‘You have a visitor.’ The nurse with the sunny face and twinkling blue eyes smiled down at Vanessa. ‘Are you up to seeing anyone today, possum?’
Vanessa lowered the magazine she’d been trying to read, though the relentless throb behind her eyes made it impossible to concentrate on anything. ‘Who is it?’
‘A handsome detective,’ the nurse said with a wink. ‘He called in yesterday too, but we told him it was only family allowed. He’s literally cooling his heels out here.’
‘I’ve been waiting all day,’ she heard Ryder say, an impatient edge to his voice. ‘I really need to speak to her.’
Vanessa nodded. ‘It’s all right. Send him in.’
He strode into the room before the nurse had finished speaking. He looked exactly the same as the first time she’d set eyes on him at The Rambling Wombat’s Kids’ Club. Dark hair pushed up at the front, tie awry. Only the vertical frown between his eyebrows had changed. It was deeper than ever. In his hand was a small cane basket wrapped in cellophane and pink ribbon.
He approached the bed slowly, his height making the sterile room with the IVs and beeping machines look even smaller.
‘Hi,’ he said quietly, putting the basket on her bedside table. His concerned gaze roamed her face then moved to the marks on her wrists where he’d slapped on the handcuffs. ‘I tried to see you earlier. Can I … sit down?’
She nodded, watching as he brought a chair close. His face was drawn with tired lines, and when he sat down it was with a weary sigh.
‘Smythe had emergency surgery for a broken shoulder but he’s awake now. He has some kind of heart issue. His surgeon said he’ll pull through without a problem though, thanks to you putting him on ice. You saved his life, Vanessa.’
Anger welled up inside her. ‘I almost didn’t bother. I nearly let him die.’
‘But you didn’t. You even gave him CPR. You made the right choice.’
‘I hate him.’ She spat out the words, unable to stop, not caring what Ryder thought of her in that moment. ‘He forced me to choose between good and evil, and evil almost won.’ She pushed herself up higher in the bed. ‘Do you know how I feel, knowing I have it in me to do that? To just let someone die?’
‘Everyone has it in them,’ he said quietly, ‘if they’re pushed far enough.’
‘Is that what you thought, when you first saw me in the snow?’
He considered her question, his gaze holding hers so intently she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. ‘My first thought was that you’d snapped and killed him in self-defence.’
‘I didn’t snap,’ she retorted. Why was she so furious at everybody? At Benson for asking her to go out there. At the others for not keeping up. At Smythe for almost murdering her and for not dying. And at Ryder. Most of all Ryder, for treating her like a criminal.
‘I didn’t snap,’ she said again. ‘I made a cognisant decision to line him up and ram him. I was stopping him from getting away. I was doing it for Libby.’ And for you, she wanted to say, but he’d learn that over her dead body.
He nodded, seemingly unfazed by her anger. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Vanessa took a deep breath and tried to stay calm as she took him through the events. When she finished by telling him of her challenge to Smythe to take on ‘a strong woman for a change’ she saw a rueful smile tug at the corners of his lips, as though he hadn’t expected anything less.
‘He drove right at me. That should have been enough for me to let him die, but I could see he was breathing. He was cyanosed around the mouth and on the eyelids, which made me think there might be something going on with his heart. It reminded me of something I’d witnessed overseas.’ Needing to do something with her hands, Vanessa straightened the edges of the bedsheet. ‘A man, in his fifties, had a massive heart attack on the slopes. Turns out he was the luckiest guy in the world—a cardiologist just happened to be skiing behind him. He stopped and gave the man CPR. Then, he ripped his clothing until the man was naked to the waist. He grabbed a shovel off one of the ski patrollers and covered him in snow. Basically, it simulated the man being put on ice until he could be airlifted to the nearest hospital.’ She glanced at Ryder. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, hands clasped in front of him. And like the first time he’d interviewed her at the inn, he wasn’t taking notes.
‘Did he live?’ he asked.
‘He did. I was so happy for his wife and kids who were there with him. They looked like a nice family.’ She gazed into Ryder’s eyes, sadness sweeping through her and dampening her anger. ‘When you save a life, you want it to be someone worth saving, don’t you?’
He didn’t say anything, but the sympathy in his eyes brought a lump to her throat.
‘I mean, what’s to be gained from saving someone like Smythe?’ she asked. ‘So his wife and children can visit him in prison for the rest of his days?’
‘No. So Celia’s family and Libby’s family have a chance to see justice done. You’ve given them that. You saved a human life, Vanessa, but it’s up to others to decide if he’s innocent or guilty, not you.’
‘I know.’ She winced as pain shot through her temples. ‘But he killed my friend. He thought he was killing me. You know what she said to me when she asked if she could sleep on the trundle in my room?’ Try as she might, Vanessa couldn’t stop her lips from trembling. ‘She said, “You’re a lifesaver.” I can’t stop thinking about that. Why couldn’t he have just died out there?’
Ryder nodded quietly. ‘He would have done a lot of people a favour if he had, including his poor wife.’
The thought of Carmel Smythe drained some of the anger out of her. ‘Do you think she had any idea?’
‘Probably not.’ Ryder shifted in the chair. ‘Let me tell you something,’ he went on. ‘Usually when we interview a spouse, or a friend, or a neighbour of someone who’s committed a crime, it’s like listening to a song on permanent loop. You couldn’t meet a nicer person, they say. It’s totally out of character, they say. I can’t imagine them doing such a thing. If it’s shown me anything, it’s that you can never really know someone.’
‘Is that why you pulled your gun on me?’
‘No. I’d already drawn my firearm. I thought … It looked like—well, like you’d witnessed Smythe’s death at the very least. I couldn’t know the circumstances at a glance.’ He sighed. ‘Look, people can turn on themselves after they’ve experienced a trauma like you had.’ His voice wavered a little. ‘I’ve been there, Vanessa, I know. That’s why I put the handcuffs on you. It was for your own safety.’
‘You pointed a loaded gun at me,’ she whispered, remembering how she’d stared, disbelieving, into the black, threatening hole in the barrel. ‘You were terrifying.’
He ran the tips of his fingers over tired eyes then clasped his hands together again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to do it. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘I can’t … un-see that.’
He nodded. ‘I understand. But, like you told Lew to tell me when you went out there, you were just doing your job. I was doing mine.’
Ryder saw a change in her then, as though his words had cut through the trauma and taken the fight out of her. He worried at the effects of her concussion, and the medication she’d been given for shock. He saw how she winced every time she turned her head, and he could only imagine the nauseating headache the whiplash would have caused.
Now wasn’t the time to tell her of his feelings, or of how scared he’d been for her out there. He was desperate to reconnect with her in some way, but this wasn’t about him.
‘I know you were just doing your job,’ Vanessa said, wearily laying her head back on the pillow. ‘I can imagine how bizarre that scene must have looked.’
Ryder took a chance then. ‘If you ever doubt yourself, remember you were your best self then, not your worst. You were a sight to behold, standing there soaked in blood and clutching your weapon. You’d fought for your life and you’d won, Vanessa. I can’t un-see that … nor do I want to.’ He reached out and offered her his hand, resting it on the bed beside her, palm up.
Before she could take it—or not—the door burst open, and a woman rushed in, a small child perched on her hip. ‘Oh, my God, Vanessa! I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
Ryder retracted his hand as the anxious woman made a beeline for the bed. He stood up as she set the child down on the floor then leaned over the bed to put her arms around Vanessa. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s okay, Eva, settle down. I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ came the woman’s muffled reply.
‘I’m sure. I have concussion, bruises and sprained muscles. I’ll be out of here before you know it.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ The woman brushed Vanessa’s hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. ‘Everyone knew Charlotte’s was shut down but, when I spoke to you, you insisted you were fine.’
Vanessa caught Ryder’s eye, and the woman swung around.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, coming around the bed to greet him. ‘I’m Eva. Vanessa’s sister.’
He could see the resemblance. She was older than Vanessa by a few years, and quite a bit shorter, but she had the same eyes and the same easy smile.
‘Detective Pierce Ryder,’ he said, shaking Eva’s hand.
‘Oh.’ She looked him up and down. ‘Pleased to meet you, Detective. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.’
‘We were just finishing up.’
‘I would have been here earlier but I had to organise someone to look after the lodge. It took forever. Then, there was an accident at Bredbo. The drive today took nearly four hours.’
‘It’s okay, Eva. Don’t stress, you know Mum and Dad have been here since I was admitted. They only left half an hour ago.’
‘I know. We’re all staying at the same hotel.’
‘Mummy. I want to get up on the bed and kiss Auntie Nessa.’
Ryder would have given anything to kiss Auntie Nessa too. And he would have given anything to have his daughter back. Conscious of Vanessa’s gaze on him, he smiled down at the little girl who was tugging at her mother’s jeans, the familiar deep yearning so strong it almost robbed him of breath. The child looked about the same age as Scarlett had been when she’d died.
‘This is Poppy,’ Eva said, blithely unaware of the tension in the room. ‘Say hello, sweetheart.’
The little girl gazed at Ryder with clear blue eyes and twisted a strand of blonde hair around her tiny index finger. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi there.’ Ryder turned to Eva. ‘Would you like me to lift her up for you?’
‘Oh, thank you. She’s getting heavier by the day.’ Eva slipped Poppy’s Wiggles backpack off her shoulders, then dumped it in the corner. Ryder swung the child into the air then settled her on the bed beside her aunt. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Poppy, and for a few heady seconds both of them were holding her, their hands brushing, their eyes focused on the little girl between them.
‘Oh, Poppy.’ Vanessa hugged the child close, burying her face in her niece’s neck. ‘I’m so happy to see you both.’
Ryder slid his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out again, remembering from some course or other that it was a sign a man didn’t feel like talking. And he did feel like talking to these two women and the sweet little girl.
‘I’ll go so you can catch up,’ he said, stepping away from the bed. Vanessa looked from him to Poppy and back again, her expression showing concern, as if she were worried about how he might be feeling. It gave Ryder hope. ‘As far as the investigation goes, I have everything I need for now,’ he said.
By this time, Eva had pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed. She smiled at him. ‘It was nice to meet you.’
‘Get better soon,’ he said to Vanessa, feeling strange that he was leaving without touching her. But even a chaste kiss in front of her sister might be as unwelcome as it was inappropriate.
‘Wave goodbye to the detective, Poppy,’ Eva said.
The little girl gave him a half-hearted wave. ‘Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, little one.’
‘What’s a de-tect? What did you call him, Mummy?’ Poppy demanded as he headed for the door.
‘Spend time with your family, Vanessa,’ Ryder said over his shoulder. ‘It’s the best medicine of all.’