Stealing Second: Sam's Story: Book 4 in the Clarksonville Series (21 page)

“Oh, God,” Sam said in panic. Is the car on fire? As she raced to the crumpled driver’s side door, she realized the smoke was just steam pouring out of the radiator. She yanked on the door handle. It didn’t budge. She jerked the handle a dozen more times trying to tear the door off its hinges. In a partial moment of clarity, she realized Helene’s door was locked. She reached in through the broken window and, without daring to look at Helene, flicked the electronic unlock switch up. A satisfying click let her know she had succeeded. She grabbed the handle and pulled. The door didn’t move. She tried again and again.

A roaring wave of panic rushed through her.

”Help me!” Sam screamed to the universe. “Somebody help me!”

I'll Never Forgive Myself

THE EMERGENCY ROOM doctor stepped back and put a hand on his hip. His gray hair and furrowed brow revealed years of scowling at uncooperative patients. “Young lady, if you don’t keep still, I’ll end up stitching that eye shut.”

Sam knew he was trying to put her at ease with humor, but she didn’t care. “Where’s Helene? She woke up in the ambulance. Is she okay? Where did they take her?”

The doctor sighed and turned to his assistant. “Would you please go see what happened to the other accident victim?” He turned to Sam. “What’s the name?”

“Bouchard. Helene Bouchard.”

“I’m on it.” The assistant opened the front curtain of the emergency room cubicle, and headed toward the bustling nurses’ station. Sam craned her neck hoping to see or hear something, anything, about Helene.

The doctor felt the area above Sam’s left eye. “Still numb?”

“Yes.”

“May I finish now?” His kind face was patient.

“Yes, but can you make it fast?” Sam urged. Trying to relax was impossible, because her mind kept racing back to the accident. When she couldn’t get Helene’s door open, she ran back around the car to get her cell phone. She lost her mind when she couldn’t find it right away. She spotted it after a frenzied glance in the back seat where it must have flown after the impact. She punched in 911 and told the operator what had happened. The operator told her an ambulance had been dispatched and within minutes, Sam heard the reassuring sound of sirens in the distance. The operator asked Sam if Helene was breathing. The question just about sent Sam into oblivion, but she held strong and put her hand near Helene’s mouth. Panic rose in her throat when she didn’t feel anything. She put her hand closer and relief washed over her when she felt a shallow puff of air hit her hand. It seemed like a lifetime, but the ambulance and a fire truck finally arrived. Aside from allowing the paramedics to clean and bandage the cut on her forehead, Sam refused to let them touch her again until Helene was taken care of. Sam gritted her teeth as they placed a collar around Helene’s neck and pulled her out of the passenger side of the car on a backboard. She forgot to breathe when they loaded Helene’s unconscious body into the ambulance.

“I need you to relax,” the doctor said forcing Sam back to the present.

“Sorry.”

After forever, the doctor stepped back. “You’re all done.”

She looked up as if seeing him for the first time. “Thank you,” she said genuinely. “I’m sorry. I’m a little distracted.”

“I know,” he said gently. “Stay right here. I’ll go see if your parents have arrived yet. You said they were coming from Watertown?”

Sam nodded. “It’ll take them a while to get here. Can you find out about Helene?” As an afterthought, she added, “And the guy in the pickup truck, too?”

“Yes, I’ll see about them both.” He scribbled something on the chart and stuck the pen in the front pocket of his white lab coat. “Now, you stay here. Stay awake. I’m fairly certain you don’t have a concussion, but we don’t want to take any chances.” He closed the front curtain behind him.

Sam called out for him to open it back up, but he either didn’t hear or chose not to hear. She leaped off the examining table regretting the fast movement. A wave of dizziness overcame her. She held onto the table until it passed and then snuck a peek through the curtains to the nurses’ station.

One of the older nurses spotted her. “Get back in there.”

“Do you know anything about Helene? Helene Bouchard?”

By then the nurse was at the cubicle. “I called upstairs. They’ll let us know as soon as they know something, but for now, you need to sit in here and wait for your parents.”

Exhausted and frustrated all at once, Sam sat down hard in the lone plastic chair in the cubicle. The nurse left her alone, and Sam took a couple of slow deep breaths to calm her nerves. With renewed strength, she pulled out her cell phone and called Lisa.

“Hey, baby,” Lisa said, “are you on your way?”

“No.”

“No?”

Sam tried to stop herself from crying, but couldn’t help it. “We got into an accident,” she squeaked out.

“Oh, my God. Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Helene?”

“I don’t know.” Sam’s voice caught in her throat. “They won’t tell me anything.”

“Where are you?”

“East Valley Hospital.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“How? You can’t drive.”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.” Lisa’s voice sounded confident.

Sam wanted to tell Lisa to stay home, that there was nothing she could do, but the truth was she wanted Lisa there. She needed Lisa by her side, so she simply said, “Okay.”

“Baby?” Lisa’s voice had softened.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I got some stitches over my eye.”

Lisa’s sharp intake of breath made Sam realized how serious her injuries might be.

“How many?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby, I don’t know how, but I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Stay strong and know I’ll be wrapping you in my arms soon. Think about that, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lisa blew out a sigh on the other end. “I love you. Never ever forget that.”

“Same.”

Sam hung up with Lisa and then maneuvered the chair so she could lean her head back against the cabinet. God, she was exhausted.

She wanted to doze off, but the nurses kept coming in and telling her to stay awake. After forever, she heard her mother’s voice in the nurses’ station. A quick glance at her cell phone told her it had been about an hour since the doctor left.

Sam got up and flung the curtain open. “Mother, I’m here.”

Her mother looked up from the nurse’s station. Her expression changed from one of worry to one of horror. “Samantha Rose, are you all right?” Sam’s mother was on her in a flash; Sam’s father was one step behind. The tears in his eyes surprised Sam. He was usually so composed.

Her mother wrapped Sam in a tight hug. Sam patted her mother on the back trying to reassure her and was alarmed at her bony thinness.

Once her mother let go, she directed Sam back to the plastic chair. She examined the stitches above Sam’s eye closely. “The nurse said you had four stitches.”

“Four? That’s not too bad.” Sam tried to soft pedal her injury. Her mother never did react well in stressful situations.

“Oh, Samantha Rose. I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt.” Her mother pulled Sam back into another quick hug and then surveyed the stitches again.

Sam was surprised by her mother’s sudden affection. She was not a hugger. “I’m okay, Mother.”

“How did this happen, Samantha Rose?” Her father’s voice had an edge to it, and Sam felt like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her father had a knack for making her feel chastised no matter what the situation. He stood with his hands on his hips as she relayed the details of the accident.

“Where’s the driver of this pickup truck?” Her father’s tone was all business.

“The paramedics insisted he get checked out at the hospital, so he must be around here somewhere. He was walking around after the accident.”

“Besides you, were there any witnesses?”

“Yes, an Amish family,” Sam said. “I heard the father tell the paramedics that they had just topped the hill on St. Regis Road when it happened. He saw the whole thing and said the traffic light was green for us. Helene didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Mm hmm,” was all her father said.

If life wasn’t bad enough for the driver of the pickup truck, it was about to get infinitely worse. No one crossed Gerald Payton or damaged his possessions without paying a serious price.

A tense silence filled the examining room. Sam stared at the old-fashioned green and white linoleum floor. Thank God the doctor finally came back.

He walked over and offered his hand to Sam’s father. “Dr. Wisneiwski.”

Sam’s father shook his hand. “Gerald Payton. This is my wife, Mimi.”

He nodded at Sam’s mother. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Payton.”

“How’s our Samantha Rose?”

“She’ll be fine,” Dr. Wisneiwski said. “Four stitches. She was an extremely lucky young lady.”

“How’s Helene?” Sam blurted as she approached.

“Helene is conscious and fairly lucid. She suffered a concussion and some minor bruising. They’re taking her in immediately for a CT scan now. She doesn’t remember the accident.”

“What’s a CT scan?”

Before the doctor could answer, Lisa stepped into the examining room. “A CT scan is a CAT scan.”

Sam couldn’t help the smile that burst from her face. Lisa had made it there in record time. Sam tried to turn the volume down on her smile, but it was hard.

“Yes.” Dr. Wisneiwski looked surprised that someone else had joined them.

“It checks for brain injuries,” Lisa continued. “Like bleeding in the brain, right?”

“Yes, exactly. They’re hoping the CT scan will rule out more serious injuries.”

“Will they read the scan right away?” Lisa asked.

“They’ll give Miss Bouchard the very best care.”

Although Sam was comforted by Lisa’s take-charge energy, Sam didn’t want to hear about bleeding brains, especially when the brain they were referring to was Helene’s.

“They asked me all kinds of questions about Helene in the ambulance,” Sam said. “I didn’t know if she was allergic to anything, and I didn’t know if she’d had a concussion before. Has she?” Sam looked from her mother to her father.

Her father shrugged. “Not in the eighteen years since she’s lived with us. Before that, I’m not sure.”

“Daddy, why don’t we know these things about Helene?” Sam heard the panicked edge in her own voice.

“Kitten, calm down.”

“When can I see her?” Sam asked the doctor, ignoring her father.

“How did I know you were going to ask that?” The doctor tried for a reassuring smile, but Sam wasn’t interested. “She’s been admitted upstairs, and as soon as they’re done with the scan, they’ll settle her in a room—“

“The best room,” Sam interrupted. “Daddy, make sure they put her in the best private room they have.” She sent a pleading look to her father not bothering to hide her tears.

“Yes, of course.” Her father put a reassuring arm around her. Sam let herself be comforted.

“Who do I talk to about getting Helene a private room?” Sam’s father asked the doctor.

“Someone at the nurses’ station can help you.” He pointed with his chin. “I’ve let them know upstairs that Helene has family waiting for her. That stairwell,” he pointed with his chin again, “will take you straight to the second floor waiting room.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Sam’s father said.

“Now as far as this young lady is concerned, I’d like her to come back in about five or six days to get those stitches removed.” He turned toward Sam, “Make sure you keep your hands away from the stitches. We don’t want to risk infection, especially so close to your eye. You can shower, but try not to soak the stitches. No baths. No swimming.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded. “Thank you. How’s the pickup truck driver?”

“He’s fine. Only minor cuts and a few bruises.” The doctor handed business cards to Sam’s mother and father. “Call if you have any questions.”

Once Dr. Wisneiwski left, Sam turned to her parents. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Kitten,” Sam’s father said in the ultra-calm voice Sam hated, “we can handle it from here. Why don’t you go home?”

“No!”

“You’ve been through a lot. I’ll see what’s happening with Helene.”

“I’m staying.” Sam folded her arms in front of her.

With a resigned sigh, her father nodded. “Okay, go on upstairs. I’ll arrange for the private room, and then I’m going to find the driver of the pickup truck.”

The serious look Sam’s father exchanged with Sam’s mother made Sam more than a little nervous for the pickup truck driver. Her father headed to the nurses’ station.

“Samantha Rose, go on upstairs without me,” Sam’s mother said. She whispered, “I want to make sure your father doesn’t kill the driver.” Her tone was somewhat serious.

“Thanks, Mother.”

“You okay,
gringa
?” Susie said.

Sam jumped. She hadn’t seen Susie and Marlee come in.

“I’m okay, I guess.”

“Four stitches,” Lisa said as they headed for the stairwell.

Susie hugged Sam. “Your face was scary enough, without adding stitches to it.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“Where are we going?” Susie asked.

“To find out about Helene.” Sam pushed the door open to the stairwell.

Lisa filled them in on Helene’s concussion and impending CAT scan as they made their way up the stairs. Sam stopped on the first landing of the secluded stairwell.

Marlee gave Sam a quick hug and then moved out of the way for Lisa. Lisa wrapped Sam up in her strong arms. Sam wanted to stay locked in Lisa’s embrace forever, but her parents were somewhere nearby, and she stiffened up.

Lisa let go. She checked the stitches above Sam’s eye. “Are you okay, baby? You look like Frankenstein.”

Sam laughed. “Thanks a lot. How’d you get here so fast?”

“My mom drove me to Marlee’s and then Susie picked me and Marlee up there. Susie was at the college setting up labs or something.”

“And then Susie broke the land speed record getting here,” Marlee said with a grin. “Two, your eye’s getting puffy.”