Chapter 28
Liv was discharged from the Waverly County Emergency Room, her mind still reeling from the shock of the car explosion. Turk and Luke wheeled her to Jackson”s room, their expressions filled with concern as they helped her into the seat beside their unconscious friend.
“Thank you, both of you,” Liv murmured as she squeezed their hands tightly. “But please, don”t tell my family about what happened with the car. Not yet.”
Turk and Luke exchanged a knowing glance. With a nod, they left her alone with Jackson, understanding her need to be with him.
Left to her own thoughts, a sense of overwhelming grief washed over her as she sat beside Jackson”s bed, filled with worry for him. Charlotte had taken Martha home, and no one else was in the room.
Liv reached out to grasp Jackson”s hand, her fingers intertwining with his as she held on tightly, afraid to let go. He was no longer intubated but was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula.
As she sat by his side, words tumbled from her lips in a rush of desperation and fear. “I found pieces of a device, Jackson,” she whispered. “Just like you did. Michael knew there was an explosive inside. And I-I can”t shake the feeling that he might be involved somehow. He was born in Waverly Junction. And he shares the same birthday as you.”
Liv”s voice faltered as she recounted the recent events in the aftermath of the warehouse fire. Tears welled in her eyes as she confessed her deepest fears to her unconscious lover, “I”m so scared. I don”t know what to do. But I love you. More than anything in this world.”
As she spoke those words, Jackson”s fingers twitched in hers, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he whispered those four little words that meant everything to her: “I love you too.”
Liv pressed the call bell, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. With a shaky breath, she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her as she made her way to Jackson”s bedside. She looked into his emerald eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Reaching out to caress his cheek, her fingers traced the contours of his face.
Unable to contain her feelings, Liv peppered his face with kisses. Jackson chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes even as he groaned with discomfort from his fractured ribs.
“Livvy, no face baths,” he teased, his playful spirit shining through.
With a watery laugh, Liv leaned in to press her forehead against his.
* * *
Liv madeher way to Turk and Luke, leaving the intensivist with Jackson. “He”s awake,” her voice trembled. “Jackson is awake.”
Jackson’s colleagues exchanged excited glances, faces lighting up with joy. Without missing a beat, they followed her back to his room.
As they entered, the ICU intensivist was examining Jackson, his expression focused and attentive as he assessed his patient”s condition. But as soon as he saw Liv, Turk and Luke, his demeanor softened, a smile spreading across his face.
“Good news, all,” he said, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Mr. Reynolds seems to be making a remarkable recovery.”
Turk and Luke smiled, still maintaining a level of stoicism. Tears prickled at the corners of Liv’s eyes again as she watched them, her heart swelling with love, not only for Jackson but for the two brave men who stood by her side through it all.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Jackson murmured. “Did you miss me?”
A laugh bubbled up from deep within her. “More than you”ll ever know.”
* * *
Two days later, Jackson was moved to a regular room, his arm cradled in a sling to protect his injured shoulder and ribs. Liv walked beside him in the hospital hallway, her hand clasped tightly in his.
As they walked, Jackson couldn”t help but notice the slight limp in Liv”s step. Concern etched his features as he glanced down at her, his voice gentle as he broached the subject. “Livvy, why are you limping?” His brow furrowed with worry. “Is everything okay?”
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering away before she met his eyes once more. “I”ll tell you everything,” she promised, “but let”s get you back to your room first.”
With a nod of agreement, Jackson allowed Liv to lead him back to his room. Once he was settled in bed, she took a deep breath, as if to steel herself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“I’m still waiting for the forensics to come back. I hurt my leg escaping from my burning car,” she began. “It was... terrifying.”
Emotions flickered across Jackson”s face. Without missing a beat, Liv launched into the events the night of the warehouse explosion. She told him about the fire in the woods, hearing his mayday call, and his brave rescue of the burned woman. But as she recounted the moments that followed—passing the evidence in the tomato can to Michael—she hesitated, doubt flashing across her features.
“He said he”d take it before it exploded,” Liv murmured. “But how did he know it would explode, Jackson? How did he know?”
Jackson”s expression darkened with concern as he listened to her words. “Keep going, Livvy,” he urged, his voice firm with determination. “Trust me.” He reached for her.
Liv recounted the events that followed—his difficulty breathing, his cardiac arrest, the hyperbaric chamber, and Luke saving her from the explosion in the tool section. But as she reached the end of her story—the confrontation with Michael in her apartment—Jackson”s patience reached its limit.
“I want to talk to Brad Killian,” he insisted, his voice firm with resolve. “If Michael is the arsonist, we need to know why. And we need to stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”
”Okay,” Liv replied, her voice tinged with apprehension. She reached for her phone and dialed Brad”s number, her fingers trembling slightly with nerves. ”Let”s see what Brad has to say.” Her foot tapped nervously waiting for Brad to answer.
”Hey, Liv, are you okay?” Brad”s voice came loudly through the line for Jackson to hear him.
“Jackson is awake. Can you come over to the hospital? It”s urgent,” Liv said.
”Sure, I”ll be there as soon as I can. Is everything okay?”
”We”ll talk when you get here,” she replied, her voice tight with tension as she hung up the phone. ”He”s on his way.” Her gaze flickered to the television screen as Jackson squeezed her hand reassuringly.
As Liv and Jackson waited anxiously for Brad to arrive, they turned on the news to watch the latest updates. But as the news anchor began to report on the hospital power station fire, a wave of dread washed over them both.
The camera shot panned to the scene outside the hospital, where Michael and Joey were walking the grounds, their expressions grim with determination. Liv”s breath caught in her throat at the sight of Michael.
“What”s he doing there? He should be in jail,” Jackson muttered, his voice tense with worry as he watched the scene unfold on the screen before him. “And why is Joey with him?”
Liv sighed. “They’re investigating the cause of the fire. It burned hot. Just like the other fires. And we can’t arrest Michael because of gut feeling.”
But before they could dwell on their thoughts for too long, Molly Everhart knocked and entered.
“Hey, guys,” Molly greeted them. She kissed Jackson’s cheek and gave Liv a hug. “I have some results. I checked Jackson”s DNA against the cigar Liv took from the Waverlys.” She put the file in her lap. “Before I go over the results, Jackson, you need to decide if anything will change if there is a match.”
Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “I am Martha and David Reynolds’ son.” He smiled. “That will never change. But I need to know. It may help figure out why the arsonist is doing this.” He reached for Liv and pulled her onto the bed beside him.
Liv pressed her forehead to his. “Are you sure?”
“Molly, what are the results?” Jackson used his legs and pushed himself taller in the bed.
Molly opened the folder. “We found one donor’s DNA on the Partagas Series D N°4 cigar. A helluva Cuban cigar.”
Liv exhaled loudly. “Molly, please.”
“Jackson, we compared your DNA to the donor sample. The paternal side is an exact match. If the sample on that cigar came from Sinclair Waverly, you are his son.” Molly looked at him.
The revelation hung in the air. Jackson”s jaw tightened.
“Are you Rainey Ashcroft”s son?” Molly continued, her voice soft with sympathy. “To be sure, we need to do a genetic comparison.”
“I don’t understand. Jackson was found beneath her. I thought we knew he was her son,” Liv said.
“Livvy, you’re functioning from your heart. Molly is a scientist,” Jackson said.
Before Jackson could say more, Brad arrived. He extended his hand to Jackson. “Pleasure to see you awake and talking. How are you feeling?”
“Doing a lot better; thank you for asking. I appreciate you helping Livvy. What info do you have for us?” Jackson asked.
He sat heavily in one of the room’s chairs. “Liv’s car was rigged with two devices—two ignition spots. Also, the locking device was tampered with. The occupant of the vehicle was not intended to get out.”
Jackson grabbed Liv’s hand. Molly sat on her other side.
Brad continued, “We tested prints on the remnants of the plastic Liv found at the warehouse, as well as on the inside of the lock system on the driver”s side door of her vehicle. They matched, and matched the prints on file for Wheaton.
“We identified the plastic as being a part of an aspirin bottle.” He frowned. “Liv, I confirmed Lt. Shane passed Michael Wheaton a tomato can in front of you. When our lab people requested a copy of their report, there was no record of the evidence.”
Liv”s words gagged in her throat. “Could Michael truly be behind all of this?”
As Brad continued to speak, Molly”s analytical mind kicked into overdrive. “Sinclair Waverly is blood type B negative,” she noted, her voice filled with quiet intensity. “And, Jackson, we know from the sample you gave me, you are also B negative. I can check Michael Wheaton’s records for his blood type.”
Brad frowned. “His personnel records show he’s blood type B negative too.”
Jackson blew out a harsh breath. Each revelation uncovered a dozen more questions.
“We need Rainey Ashcroft”s DNA,” Molly insisted, her eyes shining. “I believe she gave birth to Jackson. But is she an Ashcroft? And we need to get Michael Wheaton”s and his mother”s DNA too. There could be more to this than meets the eye.”
“How did this start?” Liv asked. “Why did he start killing the council?”
Brad”s frown deepened at Liv”s questions. “We need to find him,” he replied, his voice laced with determination. “And we need to stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”