Meadowlark (21 page)

I also thought of Mary Sadat. Mary's car had been found in
Astoria. If someone had murdered her, the killer could have dumped
her body along this road with perfect confidence. Hunters were
always getting lost in the hills. Sometimes the ground searches found
them, sometimes not. Sometimes their gnawed bones showed up
years later, a nice academic puzzle for forensic anthropologists.

"Hey!"

I jerked back to the scene before me.

Jay indicated that he wanted to come up. I took up the rope
and braced myself. He needed it more coming up than going down.
He grabbed the tree when he reached the top and scrambled onto
the road. His face and hands were scratched and bleeding.

"Blackberry vines?"

"What? Yeah, it's a jungle."

"Are they dead?"

He shook his head. "Both unconscious, though. I don't like
the look of Bill Johnson. He was thrown. Head injuries, possible
spinal damage. The damn fool wasn't wearing a seatbelt."

"What about Jason?"

Jay divested himself of most of his gear. The canteen clanked
on the gravel. "Jason's trapped in the truck, but he was moaning a
little. They're both dangerously cold. I wrapped Bill in one of the
blankets. Couldn't get to Jason." He sat on the edge of the road and
took out the phone again. "Reception's lousy down there. The rescue
team will need the jaws."

The Jaws of Life. I wondered if the chrome roll-bar had done
Jason any good.

Jay was talking to the dispatcher. She crackled back. After a
while he signed off. "That line's not clear, but I think she said they're
on the way."

It was a good half hour before the fire department rescue
truck and the first of the sheriff's cars arrived, time for us to carry
our gear back to the Honda. I was expecting Dale Nelson, but I didn't
recognize the deputy who came.

The rescue crew was smooth and professional. The
paramedic in charge questioned Jay, as the others, who included a
young woman, readied stretchers for the descent. Then they went
down. They were at it a long time.

Jay talked to the deputy about the skid marks. He also made
it plain they should check the pickup for evidence of tampering.
There was a lot of radio chatter back and forth. Eventually, the
paramedic called for the Life Flight helicopter from Kayport.

I felt like a fifth wheel. Still, the process was interesting in a
horrible way. After a long while, Jay came over to me. His scratches
had scabbed.

I gave him a hug. "I'm cold."

"Me, too. Won't be long. They'll fly Bill out in the chopper.
Jason's in somewhat better shape, though he's still unconscious.
They'll transport him in the ambulance."

There was no ambulance. Even as I formed the idea, one
roared up from the south, from Kayport. The driver slewed the
vehicle around importantly and parked behind the rescue van. Then
Dale showed up, light flashing. He liked the revolving light. It wasn't
necessary.

Jay said, "I can ride back with Dale. Why don't you take the
car on down?"

"I'll wait until the helicopter comes."

He smiled at me.

"Well, I've never seen a helicopter rescue." I felt defensive as
well as redundant. Jay didn't argue. He gave me another hug and
walked off to talk to Dale. I remembered the thermos of coffee and
went for it.

Sitting out of the fitful wind felt good, so I drank a lukewarm
cup of the stuff in the car. As I walked back to the rescue scene, the
ambulance screamed past me, heading for Kayport. I caught a
glimpse of Jason, bundled in blankets, with an i.v. hanging over him
and a tense paramedic at his side.

The rescue squad was bringing Bill up to the road in a
basket-like stretcher. They had been arguing whether to move him
up or have the helicopter hover over the canyon. They were being
very careful. Apparently they decided the risk of gusts was too great.
The helicopter was going to land on the road.

Once that decision was made, the first deputy who had
arrived began, rather officiously, to clear an area on the road. I was
standing on the shoulder, and he waved me off. He probably
expected me to go on down to the Honda, but I walked back to Jay
and stood beside him as the rescue crew inched Bill's basket up the
hillside.

As the carrier reached the shoulder, one of the rescuers
slipped and fell halfway down the side of the ravine. He wasn't
seriously hurt, but his sudden movement jolted the stretcher.

Jay reached down to steady it, and I caught a glimpse of
Bill's face. I looked away. Bruises had swollen and turned black,
reducing both eyes to slits, and one of the many lacerations had torn
his nose, exposing the cartilage. When the paramedics had slipped
the stretcher onto a gurney, they wheeled it over to the rescue van.
They changed i.v.s, and the woman began monitoring his vital
signs.

Beside me, Jay stirred and cocked his head. "It's coming," he
said quietly. I could hear nothing, but Jay was a medic in the army,
and he tends to recognize the sound of helicopters.

He was right. The Life Flight copter landed on the road
about five minutes later, churning an amazing amount of dust and
debris into the air considering it had rained the night before. The
helicopter medic and the rescue crew had Bill aboard and secured
within two minutes, and the aircraft took off. I watched until it was a
speck in the sky above the Coho River.

Jay and I walked back to the Honda. He had changed his
mind. He was going to drive the Honda to the hospital and stay there
as long as he was needed. He drove slowly, carefully.

At the base of the shortcut the road came to a T. One arm led
east toward the farm, the other to Kayport.

"Do you want me to drop you off now?"

I started. I had been brooding over the meaning of the
accident. "No. I want the car."

"Okay." He turned right in the wake of another log truck.
"Don't say anything, not a damned thing, about this business.
Pretend it didn't happen."

"All right. The workshop starts tomorrow. There should be
enough adrenaline flowing about that to keep their minds off Bill and
Jason."

He sighed. "I can't believe that woman didn't cancel the
conference."

Neither could I. And I was beginning to get stage-fright.

"I just talked to Frank Hrubek," Bianca said. "Can you drive
to Portland tomorrow to pick him up?"

Hrubek was the first of the two science writers who were
going to address the workshop. I admired his writing. Even so, I was
not tempted.

"No," I said with great firmness. "Rent the man a car."

"He doesn't drive."

We were standing in the seminar room of what I thought of
as the conference wing of the house. In spite of catastrophe, chaos,
and the memorial service, the room had been freshly dusted and
vacuumed, and Marianne, arms folded, stood silent witness to the
conversation.

I drew a long, careful breath. "You did not hire me as a
chauffeur. I'm supposed to help you run the workshop."

Bianca thrust a hand through her hair. "I know. I apologize. I
was going to get him myself, Lark, but you must see that I can't be
away from the farm for six hours, not now."

The drive from Kayport to Portland International Airport
took two and a half hours in good weather. It was raining again.
"More like seven hours altogether," I said coldly, "what with waiting
around and claiming luggage. Let Keith do it."

She shook her head. "He's distraught over the
students--Mary missing and now Jason. Keith's on medication. He shouldn't
drive." She didn't mention Bill. Maybe Bill was too much Jason's
shadow for her to notice him. He was lying in the hospital, probably
with a broken neck. Bianca didn't know that yet. I gritted my
teeth.

"Come on, Lark," she wheedled.

"Why not Angie?"

"Angie and Del will be putting in a full day of work.
Farming," she added with maddening complacence, "operates on its
own time line. They have to plant the spinach."

"Send one of the interns." I was flailing around and knew it.
"Send the Carlsens."

"What if they had a wreck on the way? With the others
missing..." Her voice trailed and the intense eyes pleaded.

I got the point. Parental lawsuits. "What if
I
have a
wreck?"

"You won't," she said with superb confidence.

"Send Mike."

"No." Marianne didn't even bother to raise her voice. She
knew how to deal with Bianca.

"If I agree to drive to Portland tomorrow to fetch Francis
Hrubek, my husband will divorce me on the grounds of mental
incompetence."

Bianca smiled a sad smile. "You have a great sense of
humor."

"When does Hrubek's plane arrive?" The moment I asked
the question I knew I was defeated.

Bianca did, too. Her face lit. "Ten. Nine forty-five,
actually."

"In the morning?"

"Of course in the morning. He wants to be here for the
reception."

I groaned. "I'd have to be on the road by half past six." I tend
to wake at six spontaneously, so six-thirty wasn't all that horrible,
but Bianca didn't need to know about my biological clock. I wanted
her to owe me bigtime. I gave another artistic groan. If she could
manipulate, so could I.

"Come and have some lunch," Marianne interposed.

I glanced at her. She looked grave and sympathetic. I hadn't
had lunch, as a matter of fact, and it was past one. The muffins were
ancient history.

Bianca turned the big brown eyes on me. "You'll go, won't
you? That's wonderful. I'll get the flight number for you."

In my own defense, I will say that I didn't stick around to be
manipulated further. I left the farm. After lunch.

I drove straight to the hospital in Kayport. The receptionist
told me Bill was in surgery and Jason in Intensive Care.

"Second floor?"

She frowned. "You can't see either of them."

"I know. My husband is here, probably in the nearest
waiting room."

"He's a relative?"

I stared at her, unwilling to explain that Jay stood
in loco
parentis
, as far as the college was concerned.

"Second floor. West elevator," she conceded. "The waiting
room's across from the nurses' station."

"Thanks."

The Shoalwater hospital is one reason the Peninsula is
becoming a retirement center. It has excellent diagnostic and
immediate treatment facilities, good stroke therapy, an attached
nursing home for long term care, and the Life Flight service, which
can airlift patients to Portland as well as rescuing them from obscure
country roads. The average age of patients was around fifty. Bill and
Jason were bound to be oddities.

I don't like hospitals. Most people don't. A woman I knew
had died of a stroke in this one a few months earlier, and memory
was making me edgy.

The elevator decanted me opposite an empty alcove with a
philodendron and a built-in sofa upholstered in soothing shades of
blue and purple. A tasteful watercolor of the Kayport marina hung
over the bench. I stood for a moment looking at it and thinking of the
view from Hugo's apartment. Then I made myself peer around the
corner.

At the far end of the long corridor, a knot of people stood
talking in hushed voices. I could see Jay, head cocked, hands in his
jacket pockets, listening to someone. As I watched, a figure emerged
from the clump and strode toward me. Dale Nelson. I retreated to the
alcove and sat waiting.

He spotted me as he was reaching for the elevator button.
"Hey, I thought you were at the farm."

I stood up. "I was. What's happening?"

He made a face. "The usual waiting game. Jason Thirkell
hasn't regained consciousness yet. Jay's dealing with Johnson's
parents, thank God. Kid got out of the operating room half an hour
ago. He's in post-op. Thirkell's there in intensive care."

I cleared my throat. "Bill's pretty bad, then."

"They think he'll live, but--" The elevator arrived. "Hey, I
gotta go. See you." Dale hopped in, and the doors slid shut.

I watched the illuminated buttons until Dale reached the
ground floor. Then I sat again. In a surprisingly short time, a middle
aged couple, the woman crying, the man with his arm around her
trying not to, came around the corner and pressed the elevator
button. Bill's parents, I suspected. I got up and started to say
something, offer my sympathy, but they were speaking in low, intent
voices and it was apparent they didn't notice me. I decided not to
intrude. What could I say?

When the elevator doors had closed on their anguished
faces, I stuck my head into the corridor again. Jay was still standing
by the nurses' station, but there was only one other person with him.
As I passed the first of the two-bed wards, the man shook hands with
Jay and went off in the other direction. Jay took a seat on the
dispirited sofa in the hallway and picked up a magazine.

He looked up as I approached and gave me a smile that was
half grimace.

I sat beside him. "I saw Dale."

Jay sighed. "Then you know about Bill."

"I know they operated on him."

"He's a healthy kid. He'll live." His face was bleak.

"Is he... Will he be paralyzed?"

Jay shrugged. "It's too soon to tell. At the moment, the
doctors seem more worried about brain damage. His skull was
fractured. They operated to relieve the pressure."

I tried to digest that.

"What about Jason?"

"He's still in a coma, and there's a strong possibility he'll
develop pneumonia. He was damned cold."

"What about injuries?"

"Bruises, some lacerations. Nothing like Bill."

"I think I saw Bill's parents."

Jay's hand clenched on the
National Geographic
, but
he didn't say anything.

"Have you talked to the Dean?"

"Left a message for him."

"Did you eat lunch?" I asked because Jay is a little apt to
forget the practicalities in stressful situations.