Chapter 22
Dakota
I catch Molly when she collapses, barely keeping her from hitting the floor.
I can't imagine how she feels, because I know how I felt watching them load Caleb into the back of the ambulance.
This is one of those times when you don't want to know the person who is injured.
You definitely don't want it to be the man you think of as your second father.
"He's gonna be okay," I whisper to her, my mouth at her ear. "Caleb is strong. He's going to be fine."
She turns to me, those eyes of hers swimming in tears. "I hope you're right."
I hope I am too, but I don't say that part out loud because what she needs from me right now is not my fear.
What she needs is positivity and steadiness, and that is something I can give her even when the inside of me is about to fucking fall apart.
I've been doing that since the moment those two cars went sideways in front of us on that S-curve, when my whole body went ice cold for about two seconds before training took over and me and Levi got to Caleb's cruiser.
I have not let myself think about how bad this is, and how much worse it can get.
The ER is loud and full of chaos as I look around, taking stock of what’s going on around us.
The waiting area has more uniforms in it than I've ever seen in one room outside of a departmental function.
All agencies are present, some off-duty people who came in on their own once the radio traffic went out, which is what happens in a town this size when it's one of their own.
There's something about law enforcement looking out for its people that I have never once in my career taken for granted, because I grew up without that kind of thing and I knew what the absence of that felt like until Levi and I were friends.
The doors from the parking lot push open, and I know before I look up who it's going to be, because there is exactly one person in Laurel Springs who moves through a room the way this man does.
It’s Chief Harrison.
I’ve known this man most of my life, and he’s never scared me.
Right now though? I’m getting out of his way.
He's got his jaw set and his eyes are doing that thing they do when he's in command mode, reading everything in the room at once, and he walks directly to where Levi is standing near the desk.
"Where the fuck are they?" he asks, his voice calm and quiet, but deadly at the same time.
Levi puts a hand on his grandfather's arm. "Grandpa."
"I want to see the men who were brought in with Caleb."
"I know you do." Levi's voice is careful in a way that tells me he's been thinking about this since before the Chief walked through the door.
"But you can't. Not like this. Not right now.
This needs to be done completely by the book.
" He keeps his hand on his grandfather's arm and holds his gaze.
"You are too close to this, and you know it as well as I do, and if you go in there right now, you compromise everything that comes after.
Dad wouldn't want that. He wants these fuckers arrested and doing time. "
Mason looks at Levi for a long moment, and I can see the argument happening behind his eyes, the part of him that has spent decades solving things by going directly at them wrestling with the part of him that didn't get to be Chief as long as he has been by being reckless. It's not a quick fight.
Then Ryan steps forward, and he does it the right way, which is to say he does it without making it a big thing, just a man who has a job to do stepping into the space where the job needs doing.
"Chief." He addresses Mason directly, and there's the particular respect in it that Ryan has always had for the people who came before him, which is one of the reasons he's good at what he does.
"I'll take lead on this until the state police can get here and sort out jurisdiction. You have my word that everything gets done right.”
The Chief looks at him. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and I think about what this costs him, handing off an investigation that involves his family to someone else, even someone he trusts.
There are things you can train for and things you can't, and watching a man you respect swallow his own instincts because the right thing and the thing he wants to do are pointing in different directions is one of the things you can't train for.
You just have to watch it and respect it.
"All right," Chief Harrison says finally, and it's two words, but they carry the weight of a much longer sentence. "You keep me informed."
"Yes sir," Ryan says, and means it.
The Chief moves toward the family waiting area, and the room lets out a collective breath that nobody was consciously holding.
I close my eyes, and when I open them again, I notice Macie.
She's either came down with Molly or she’s come down on her own.
I didn’t see her when I saw Molly, but a lot was going on.
She's standing just inside the ER doorway in her scrubs, and when Darren turns and sees her, something happens on his face that is quick and controlled but not quick or controlled enough that I miss it.
He crosses toward her and they stand close together and exchange a few words that I can't hear from where I am, and her hand comes up and touches his arm briefly before she pulls it back, and he gives her a single nod before he goes back to what looks like coordinating officers to take shifts to cover those who have showed up here.
I file that away for later, because I have enough on my hands at the moment and whatever that is between the two of them is their business, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice it.
Molly is still pressed against my side and I've kept my arm around her through all of it, and now I look down at her to make sure she’s alright.
She's holding herself together in the way she does, because she’s a nurse she pulls the competent professional in front of the terrified daughter and keeps it there, but I can feel what's underneath it in the tension in her body and the way she's got her hand wrapped in the fabric of my jacket.
"Hey." I duck my head to get into her eyeline. "Does your mom know yet?"
She shakes her head, and I can see the moment the implication of that lands on her.
"I don’t think so, she’d be here by now.
I don't want her to find out from someone else.
She shouldn't have someone she doesn't know come to the door.
" She straightens slightly, and I watch the decision forming.
"I need to be the one to tell her. I need to be there. "
"Then let's go." I don't ask her if she's sure, because she said what she said and she doesn't need me second-guessing her when she's already carrying enough.
I look across the room to where Levi is standing near his grandfather, and when he glances over I catch his eye and nod toward the exit.
He reads it immediately, and he gives me a short nod back that says go, I've got this end of it.
I keep my arm around Molly and we walk out.
The parking lot air is cold enough that it hits us when the doors slide open, and I feel her pull in a breath that's probably partly temperature and partly trying to keep herself upright, using the unexpected coldness to let her know she’s alive. I know that trick. I've used it myself tonight.
I get her into the truck and I get in, but I don't start it right away. I just look at her for a second.
"You don't have to say anything on the way," I tell her. "You don't have to hold a conversation or explain anything or be okay. You just have to sit there and let me drive you."
She closes her eyes for a second and then opens them. "Okay."
I start the truck, and we head out.
The drive to the Harrison house takes nine minutes on the dot.
Molly is quiet beside me, and I let her be quiet, and I keep one hand on the wheel and one on her knee, and she puts her hand over mine for most of the drive, not saying anything.
I don't say anything, and that's what we need right now so that's what we do.
The lights are just popping on at the Harrison house when we pull up.
The porch light is warming up in the setting sun, turning on so that it’ll give light through the night.
I wonder if Ruby is worried about Caleb.
He probably should’ve been home by now. Is she sitting there worried?
Or is she sitting in there without any idea what the last hour of her husband's life has looked like, and my chest twists roughly.
We get out, and I take Molly's hand. Together, with entwined fingers, we walk to the front door.
She doesn't knock. It's her parents' house, and she lets us in, and I follow her inside. “Mom?” She questions.
I have to give it to her, her voice doesn’t tell anyone the fear she has right now.
Ruby is in the kitchen, and I hear her voice before I see her, calling out without looking up from whatever she's doing.
"Molly? I thought you were — " And then she turns and sees us, and she sees Molly's face, and she sees mine.
She is a perceptive woman who has been married to a law enforcement officer for many years.
She knows. She knows before either of us says a single word, and the color leaves her face so fast that I take two steps toward her before I'm fully aware I'm moving.
"Ruby," I say, and I keep my voice as even as I can. "I need you to sit down for a second."
"Caleb." It's not a question. Her hand comes to her mouth.
Molly crosses to her and takes both of her hands, and she does what nurses do, which is lead someone through information without any of it being personal.
She puts on that cool unaffected face, when I know she’s very affected.
"Dad was in an accident today during a pursuit.
He's at the hospital. He was unconscious when they brought him in, but he’s alive.
" She says the last part clearly, because she knows it's the part her mother needs to hear first. "He’s alive, Mom.
We're going to go be with him right now. "
Ruby's grip on Molly's hands tightens, and I watch her do the thing that strong people do in the first moment of hard news, which is to compress it, to take all of the fear and all of the what-ifs and push them into a box and shut the lid so that they can function.
She's not unlike her daughter in that way, or her son.
"Okay," Ruby says, and she straightens. "Give me my purse."
I get her purse.
Molly gets her mom' s coat off the hook by the door and helps her into it without being asked. I watch the two of them and I feel something settle into place inside of me that I don’t want to look at right now.
All I know is this is my family, and I’m going to make sure they get where they need to go.
When we walk outside onto the porch, my parents are in their driveway. “Dakota,” Dad yells. “Want us to follow you?”
“Yeah, stay on my bumper,” I answer, thankful my parents are going to be there with us.
I hold the door open and I let them go first, and when we get to the truck I open the back cab passenger door and help Ruby in, and Molly climbs in beside her, and I get in on my side and I drive them back to the hospital without saying anything unnecessary, because there is nothing necessary to say right now except through the act of doing this, of being here, of not letting them do this alone.
Ruby reaches over in the dark of the cab and puts her hand on my forearm briefly, just once, and she doesn't say anything either. She doesn't have to. It’s a thank you for coming and getting her.
I keep both hands on the wheel and I get them there.