Submerged

“And you don’t know anyone who owns a truck like the one that hit you.”

“No.”

“Anyone have a grudge against you? Former friend, coworker… lover, maybe.”

Rebecca blushed. “Not that I know of. And to clarify, I don’t have a former lover. I’ve been with Wesley for years. And only him.”

Gabbie’s brow arched. “You told Detective Zur you were sure your husband had nothing to do with the attempt on your lives, yet medical records show you’ve had a number of injuries that are conclusive with abuse.”

“The detective knows about this. I told him. It’s one of the reasons I’m getting a divorce. The main reason. Yes, he has hurt me in the past, but Wesley is not the kind of person to outright murder someone.”

Gabbie and Ashton exchanged skeptical glances.

“I’m telling you,” Rebecca said, “he would never try to kill me and his children. He loves Ella and Colton.”

“He know you were going away with them?” Ashton asked.

She blinked, trying to remember her conversation with Wesley. Dread washed over her. “Well, no, not exactly. He knew I was going away. The kids were supposed to be with…” Her voice trailed away. No! It couldn’t be Wesley!

Was she in denial? Could Wesley have orchestrated the murder attempt? Was he really that eager to be rid of her?

Gabbie checked her pulse. “Supposed to be where, Mrs. Kingston?”

“With my sister.”

Wesley had known she’d planned to go away and the kids were supposed to stay with Kelly.

“You and your ex fight recently?” Gabbie asked.

“Not really.”

Rebecca thought about the missing money. Wesley was a gambler, an out-of-control, desperate addict.

And desperate people do desperate things.

“What is it, Mrs. Kingston?” Gabbie asked.

“I… he… he needed money. He always… needs money. He… gambles.”

The ambulance hit a pothole, and she was overcome by a fit of coughing. When it subsided, she said, “It’s getting harder… for me… to breathe.”

“We need to give you more oxygen,” Ashton said.

As he set a mask over Rebecca’s nose and mouth, another episode of lightheadedness surged over her. “Don’t… let me… drown.”

The paramedic’s face swam into view. “Her lung’s collapsed.”

“Hold on, Mrs. Kingston,” Gabbie said, her face fading in and out.

More words drifted by. “Pneumothorax… chest tube… ”

In a blink, the lights went out.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Hinton, AB – Saturday, June 15, 2013 – 2:10 AM

Marcus parked close to the emergency entrance of the hospital. He noted the two patrol cars nearby. Both were empty.

That’s a good sign. They must be inside.

He strode through the doors and made his way to the intake desk.

“Fill out this form and take a seat in the waiting room,” the receptionist said without looking up.

“I’m not a patient,” he said. “An ambulance brought in a mother and her two kids. I need to know where they were taken.”

The woman scrunched her face and peered over wire-rimmed glasses. “And you are?”

“Marcus Taylor. The guy that pulled them out of the river.”

“One moment, please.” The woman picked up the phone, dialed, said something into the receiver, then hung up. “The boy and girl are on the third floor, room 312.”

“And their mother?”

“She’s in surgery. Collapsed lung.”

“Damn it.”

“Mr. Taylor, the police are with the children. They want to talk to you.”

“Detective John Zur?”

The receptionist nodded. “And another officer.”

Marcus sprinted to the main elevators. He stabbed the button, watched the numbers slowly tick down from 4 to 3. It stopped at 2. With a frustrated groan, he spun on one heel and headed for the stairs. He took them two at a time.

On the third floor, he followed the signs to room 312.

A police officer stood guard outside the room. Another good sign.

Marcus flashed his ID at the man. “Marcus Taylor. I work at the 911 center in Edson. I found the mother and kids.”

The officer nodded and opened the door. “They’re waiting for you.”

The first thing Marcus saw was two kids propped up against starched white pillows in the beds. Both were grinning, their faces flushed and healthy.

When Colton saw him, the boy’s face lit up like it was Christmas. “It’s Marcus!” he said to his sister.

Marcus moved toward the beds. “Hey, you two. Enjoying the hospital food, I see.”

“The nurse gave us green Jell-O,” little Ella said.

Even though he’d only seen her briefly in the ambulance and had spent a small amount of time with Rebecca, he could tell Ella was the spitting image of her mother—all blonde hair, blue eyes and pretty face.

John Zur was seated in a chair next to Colton’s bed. “They’re both doing fine, Marcus. They’ve polished off a plate of chicken and fries.” He let out a short grunt. “And they’ve been talking my ears off about some superhero dude who saved them. Don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?”

Marcus grimaced. “I didn’t see anyone in tights and a cape.”

“We meant you,” Colton said, laughing.