Mr. Right Now (24 page)

Thankfully the spa was on the same side of town as Glenview. I took every shortcut between the two I could think of, and somehow managed not to hit anyone along the way. At least not that I know of. When I finally got off the residential side streets and pulled onto East State Boulevard, I pressed the pedal to the metal. My little two-door Civic whined in response.

A moment later, flashing reds and blues illuminated my rearview mirror. The shrill cry of a police siren immediately followed.

“No, no,
no
!”

I looked around, hoping,
praying
, the siren was for someone else. Maybe the sporty blue Mazda to my left, or the red rust-bucket pickup truck in front of me. Just not me, not today. I had to get to Grace, and I had to get to her
now
.

A second glance in the rearview mirror and my heart sank. A sunglass-wearing patrolman in the cruiser now on my tail jabbed a finger toward me, then the curb. My right foot hesitated on the gas pedal, but the debate between braking and flooring it quickly ended. There was no way my little coupe could outrun one of Fort Wayne’s finest. I pulled over and slammed my car into park.

The green digits on my dashboard clock flipped from 6:08 to 6:09 and I pressed both hands to my forehead. Tried not to panic about the seconds ticking by. Seconds my best friend might not have.

…
rode in
the ambulance with her to Glenview...

Her boyfriend’s words echoed through my head, bringing with them a fresh wave of guilt. Why had I picked today of all days to ignore her call? Had I picked up, she might have been delayed. Avoided the accident. If only I had a do-over button. Something to take me back in time and prevent me from making that mistake again. A silent prayer formed on my lips as I asked God not to take her from me. Especially not before I’d had a chance to see her again.

My gaze shifted to the blue and white sign that loomed over the nose of my car. A cruel reminder that I’d gotten to within four blocks of the hospital before getting snared by this speed trap. The patrolman responsible had yet to emerge from his cruiser, busy doing whatever cops do when they first pull people over.

And doing it
slowly
.

I contemplated making a run for it, to just open my door and sprint the remaining distance to Glenview. But running had never been my strong suit, and I really didn’t relish being Tasered. Or, worse yet, shot. So I stayed put, cursing as the last of rush hour traffic continued on its merry way.

After three more excruciating minutes, Officer Slowski finally exited his vehicle. I rolled down my window and watched in the side mirror as he strode toward my car, his dark uniform an ominous contrast to the blinding autumn sunset.

“License and registration, please.”

“Please, officer, I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Just let me go so I can get over to Glenview–my best friend was in a terrible accident!”

The cop nudged his shades down, exposing a set of brilliant blue, yet clearly unconvinced, eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“You have to believe me!” I clutched at my doorframe and searched his face for any hint of mercy. Instead, I found only the hard line of his jaw, a pair of furrowed brows, and my own distorted reflection in his copper shades. “Look, can’t you just give me a quick lecture or something?”

His brilliant blues narrowed. “Ma’am, you were going fifteen over the speed limit in a residential area. And you nearly hit a pedestrian when you blew through that red light.”

I ran a hand through my hair. The light had been yellow. Maybe burnt sienna. And that little old lady hadn’t even reached the street yet. “But–”

“License and registration, ma’am.” He pushed his shades back into place.

“Officer, please! I don’t know how much time she’s got left!”

He sighed and leaned down, providing me a look at his nametag:
Officer N. Steele
. Steele? What kind of name was that for a cop?

“Ma’am, I don’t care if your friend is the Queen of England and she’s up the road having an emergency appendectomy. There’s no excuse for driving recklessly. Ever. Now, I’m going to ask you nicely one last time. License and registration. Please.”

I hated to admit defeat, but it suddenly dawned on me that the longer I argued with him, the longer it’d take me to get back on the road. So I reached across the front seat to retrieve my registration from the glove box. Its latch stuck at first, then sprang open, dumping the box’s entire contents onto the floor in one fell swoop. Sweat beaded at my hairline. I glanced from the mess to my dashboard clock.

Ten precious minutes. Gone.

Officer Steele cleared his throat. My gaze darted back to the passenger’s side floor mat. Miraculously, a familiar-looking white rectangle sat atop the pile. I snatched up the registration, retrieved my license from my purse, and thrust both out the window toward him. “Please hurry!”

Officer Steele took a moment to compare me with the photograph on my license, then gave a quick nod. “Thank you Miss Hartley. Now sit tight.”

Sit tight
? Where the hell did he think I was going?

I took a deep breath and tried to think positive thoughts. Maybe Grace wasn’t badly hurt. A little bump on the head, a sprained wrist...

Oh, who was I kidding? Not knowing the extent of her injuries was enough to drive me mad. And being trapped in my car just a few blocks from her made it that much worse. I leaned my head back against the headrest and groaned.

Two more minutes passed. Out of sheer boredom, I decided to tackle the mess on my passenger side floor. Just as I finished cramming everything back into the glove box, my cell phone came to life. I swiped it from my purse and checked the display. There was only one number I wanted to see right now: her boyfriend Matt’s. This, however, wasn’t it.

“Hey, Mom. Listen, I can’t talk right now.”

“Hi, sweetie. Getting ready for your big date tonight?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to keep my temper in check. “I’m pretty sure our date’s getting cancelled.”

“Cancelled? Now Jessica, I know you’re having a hard time getting over Da–”

“Grace was in an accident on her way home from work, Mom. An ambulance took her over to Glenview. I’m headed there now.”
At least, I was, until a certain someone pulled me over.

I scowled at my dashboard clock. What was taking him so long?
Probably playing a few games of Solitaire just to piss me off...

“Oh! Oh, how awful! Is she alright?”

“I don’t know. I was on my way there when, uh…” I glanced up at the flashing lights in my rearview mirror. “You called.”

“Well, has anyone called her parents?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that Matt told me to get over there ASAP. I’ll call you as soon as I–”

“Miss Hartley?”

I jumped at the sudden reappearance of Officer Steele. The phone bobbled in my hands.

“Sorry, gotta go.” I hung up on my mother and batted my eyes at the patrolman. “Yes?”

Officer Steele tapped a pen on the notepad in his hands. “I found no prior traffic violations in your records, and your plates and registration are all up to date.” He handed my license and registration card back to me then cleared his throat. “And while I do not condone your reckless driving today, I’m going to let you off with a verbal warning.”

He leaned down and nudged his shades to reveal those piercing blue eyes once more. “Don’t let me catch you driving like that around here again. Had you been going much faster, I would have hauled both you and your car downtown. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, officer.”

He slid his shades back into place and straightened up. “Good. Now get out of here,” he said, and rapped a fist on the roof of my car.

Relief washed over me. “Oh, thank you, officer! Thank you!”

I turned my key in the ignition, waited for a break in traffic, then zipped away. One quick glance in the rearview mirror was all the more attention I gave to the man who’d stolen fifteen minutes of my life. Then I set my sights on the road ahead, intent on reaching the one person I couldn’t bear to live without: Grace.

* * * *

Eight minutes later, I dashed into Glenview’s emergency room waiting area and scanned the room for any sign of Grace’s boyfriend. Thankfully, it took only a second for me to spot him among its orderly array of blue vinyl seats. At six-foot-four and built like a brick you-know-what-house, Matt was usually fairly easy to find. He sat perched on the edge of his seat near the registration desk, head bowed, arms crossed, and right knee bouncing at the speed of light.

I crossed the room and skidded to a stop in front of him.

“How is she?”

He looked up, a mixture of frustration and worry upon his face. “I don’t know. They shooed me out of the examination room as soon as we got here.”

“You don’t know?” I planted a hand on my hip and worked to catch my breath. “Matt, you rode in the ambulance with her. Didn’t the paramedics tell you anything?”

“I tried to stay quiet and let them take care of her. Besides, I don’t speak
ER
, Jessica. Hell, I didn’t understand half the shit they were saying.” He shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I don’t understand any of this. Why Grace?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and lowered myself into the seat next to him. “I’ve been a nervous wreck since you called. And then I got pulled over–”

“Pulled over? For what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I ran a hand through my hair and tried to ignore the overwhelming smell of industrial-strength disinfectant permeating the room. “So, what happened?”

Matt slid back in his seat, knee slowing to the speed of sound. “I was on my way home, coming across North River Road like I always do. Only, traffic was horrible, barely crawling. A DJ came on and said there was an accident near North River and Maysville. And about a blue car in the ditch.”

“The ditch?”

He nodded, avoiding my eyes. “I tried calling Grace, but she didn’t answer. And somehow I just knew...” His knee went slack. He sucked in a ragged breath and turned his pained face toward me. “When I saw her Infiniti, Jess, I nearly lost my mind.”

I put a hand on his shoulder and tried to come up with something comforting to say. Something that would ease both our worries. But I was at a complete loss for words.

For as much as I loved my best friend, Matt’s love for her went to an entirely different level. They’d been together almost two years now–long enough that I’d started bracing myself for the day when he might pop the question and steal her away from me.

His gaze returned to the floor. “By the time I got there, they were getting ready to load her into the ambulance. A cop tried to hold me back, but after I explained who I was, he let me through.” Matt shuddered. “There was just so much
blood
…”

“Blood?” Definitely not one of my favorite subjects.

“From the cut on her head. They think she got it when her car rolled.”

My stomach began to do some rolling of its own. I changed the subject in a feeble attempt to keep whatever was left of my lunch down. “Was anyone in the other car hurt?”

“There wasn’t another car. Just hers.”

“Well, did she tell you what caused her to go off the road then?”

Matt’s shoulders slumped. “No. She was unconscious. Has been this whole time.”

“Oh.” My voice sounded a mile away. I struggled with the image of my fun-loving roommate, my vibrant best friend, unconscious and bleeding atop some wobbly gurney. I needed to see her, to know she would be okay. Then it dawned on me, so did her parents. “Did anyone call Sharon and Norm?”

“Yeah, I did. Her folks got here about ten minutes before you did. A nurse rushed them back to see Grace. They’ve been gone ever since.”

“They’re here? We should go find them!” I hopped to my feet and started forward, but Matt caught my arm.

“Can’t.” He tipped his head toward the hallway behind the registration desk. “Only family’s allowed back there.”

“Says who?”

“Says the woman behind the desk.”

I glanced over at the forty-something heavyset woman with fresh-out-of-the-box platinum blonde hair popping her bubble gum behind the desk. She looked harmless enough.