Chapter 14
Anoise startled Bridget awake.
It was more than the beeps and whooshes of the machines that made the backdrop to the ICU. An alarm sounded somewhere down the hall, but that wasn’t what had awoken her. She opened her eyes and forced herself to stay still.
A man stood over Eliza. His build matched that of the man from the ER.
She shifted as she slid her phone from her pocket and hit the emergency button. At least she hoped she had. Would the police be able to locate her?
His eyes were hard and dark as he turned to her. “I wouldn’t do that.” His voice was low, lethal, hard.
“Why are you here?”
“Unfinished business.” The words were clipped.
She saw he meant them. Eliza was business to him. That chilled her more than seeing him tower over the child. “She can’t hurt you.”
“You’re right. I made sure everyone would be occupied and leave us alone.”
He’d come in knowing she was here. “Does that mean I’m unfinished business, too?”
He didn’t bother to reply, and a chill swept down her spine. She eyed the space to the door. The recliner was tucked between the wall and the bed. More equipment stood between the recliner and the door. Could she manage to get out and scream for help?
“Don’t bother.” He didn’t move with any type of speed, all his motions deliberate and unhurried.
Then she noted the nurse call button. It was tucked on her side of the bed.
She could reach that before he grabbed her.
She lunged for the button and punched it, holding on, as she rolled to the floor, hitting her head in the process.
Her ears rang, head pounding a protest at another hit so soon after last night.
She needed to clamp the button. Someone would come to provide help.
Soon.
She just needed to hang on.
As she did, her brain tried to process why he stood above Eliza seemingly doing nothing. He’d been there a while. Then alarms started blaring, and he was on Bridget, shoving a syringe in her leg.
She yelped as it pinched and stung.
“You think you beat me.” He bared his teeth as he pushed the plunger, and she felt a liquid swoosh into her body.
“What did you do?” She moaned as she wondered what poison he’d fed into her body. . . as the alarms blared and chaos grew. Panic built as her vision narrowed.
He stood and stepped back. Then he pivoted and disappeared.
She lay there panting, trying to stop the stampede of elephants in her head.
She was going to be sick.
She had to get up.
But she couldn’t move.
“What’s going on in here?” A woman’s intense voice penetrated her out-of-control thoughts. Then footsteps followed. A moment later, the footsteps retreated. “I need help.”
The voice was so loud.
“He was here.” She meant the words to be loud, but she couldn’t get them to come out that way. What was wrong with her?
“Ms. Ellis? Where are you?”
“Down here.” Bridget tried to push to her feet. She could let go of the call button now. Help was here. She’d done what she needed to. For Eliza. For her. So she could let go. She wanted to let go. Why couldn’t she let go? “What’s wrong?”
A man knelt next to her. Picked up the syringe. The man had left it behind. Sloppy of him. Wasn’t it? Or was it? Did he feel so certain it didn’t matter?
The man gently patted her cheek as if to wake her. “What happened?”
“I was shot.” She pointed at the shot. Giggled. Frowned. Tried again to press up. “I don’t feel good.”
“Has she been drinking?” He looked at the nurse who was working on Eliza.
“Hasn’t had time. She’s been here all day.”
He held up the syringe. “This was next to her.”
“What on earth? Is it labeled?”
“No.”
“Get her something sweet STAT.” She rushed to add something to the IV bag. “I’m adding glucose to the patient’s drip. Where is our help?”
“Must still be with the other patient. I’ll be back.” The man stepped away, and Bridget wanted to call him back.
It felt safer to have two people in the room. What if the first man returned? He wouldn’t circle back for a third time. Would he?
Where had he gone?
“Can you tell me what he did to you? To Eliza?”
“No.” Bridget pushed the word out. Why were her thoughts getting harder to line up? “He didn’t care I was here.”
“We were watching for strangers.” The woman sounded frustrated, but Bridget couldn’t get off the floor to check.
The floor was cool. It had to be dirty. A bad idea to be down here. But she’d need help to move. She had to get up.
“If he gave you insulin, you should be able to ambulate. Unless you’re diabetic. Are you diabetic?”
“No.” No history in her family. She rolled to her side. She could do this. She pushed to a seated position and leaned against the bed. That was better.
The man was back. He unwrapped a candy and gave it to her. “Suck on this for a minute. Then I’ve got some apple juice for you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Could I have Dr Pepper?”
“Let’s stick with nature’s sugar for now.”
“Candy qualifies?” But she put it in her mouth and tried to do what he asked.
“If this doesn’t work, we’ll have to give you an IV, too.”
“No thanks.” She hated needles. With a passion. That would make her pass out faster than whatever he'd injected in her. She slumped, praying the sugar would start working.
“We need the tech now.” The nurse’s voice was hitting a strident note. “If this isn’t insulin, we need to know so we can change course. If so, we might need to give Ms. Ellis more glucose. I’m not sure Eliza’s getting enough.” Her voice gentled. “I wish you’d talk to us, kiddo.”
Bridget wanted to affirm the many reasons it would be helpful, but she couldn’t get coordinated.
The one thought she could hold: Todd would be angry.
The principal’s house was a small Sears home, neat and tidy on the outside with a bright red door and black shutters.
After she offered Todd an iced tea, they sat on her small back patio in the sunlight.
Todd was glad he had a jacket, but the sun felt good on his face.
“Mrs. Hayes, I talked with a friend in the police here. Could you tell me more about the Brandenberg family?”
If he hadn’t been watching her, he would have missed the subtle tightening in her shoulders and the way she held her breath for a moment. “I really don’t have more to tell you. I hate to think you wasted the drive up here.”
He took a casual sip of tea. “The talk with the police enlightened me.” Silence settled between them, and he let it build for a minute. “Did Ryan attend your school?”
“Not while I was here. He was six years older than Eliza.”
“That’s quite a gap.”
“And why his family adopted. Everything I saw indicated she was adored and loved them back.”
“Was there anything that made you think that might not be the case?”
She fluttered her hands around her glass. “What do you mean?”
“Just the way you said it. Everything you saw. Makes me think there were things you didn’t see that made you wonder.”
Her spine straightened. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Of course not. I’ve learned people often see things they didn’t realize they saw, and those are the most important details. If you have any thoughts along those lines, those would be helpful.”
“Look, your ‘aw shucks’ won’t work on me.
No family is perfect, but the Brandenbergs are a loving family.
What happened to Ryan was a tragedy I wouldn’t want anyone to experience, but it was truly terrible for them.
Everything I’d been told was that he had a bright future in front of him.
” She took a sip of tea with trembling hands, ignoring the tea that splashed onto her pants.
“He earned good grades at Wayne State and had a good job at the local Runza. He even had a girlfriend who liked him as much as he liked her. There was no reason to experiment with drugs.”
“People don’t need a reason.”
“True, but he really didn’t have a reason.” She met his gaze for the first time.
“What’s his girlfriend’s name?”
“Adora Jones.” She sighed and waved like she was batting the name away. “She moved to Iowa. Needed a fresh start.”
“There’s a lot of moving around after the death of this young man.”
“Maybe that should tell us something.”
“Are there any classmates of Eliza’s I should talk to?”
Principal Hayes pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “I thought you might ask. This young lady and her mom will be home until five today.”
That gave him forty-five minutes to get over there. “Thank you. I appreciate your time and the tea.”
“I wish I could say it was a pleasure.”
“I understand.” Most people weren’t glad to see him by the time he left.
She stopped his rise with a hand on his arm. “Take care of our girl. And if she needs a place to be safe, we’ll take care of her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sank back, and he stood, leaving the glass of tea behind.