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“Did you find him?” Allie whispered, staring up at the blur of concerned faces. She recognized Sharon but not the kind-eyed man in the white coat who smelled of coffee and disinfectant. She twisted her head against the pillow and checked the hospital room. Lots of cards and fruit and flowers. But no Carter.
“Did you find him?” Her arms flailed in panic as she tried to sit up. “Six miles in on the river?”
“Yes, we did,” Sharon said, grabbing her hand. “The helicopter picked him up yesterday. He’s recovering on another floor. Now lie back and rest. The doctor has an IV in your arm and we don’t want you to rip it out.”
“He needs antibiotics,” Allie muttered, still struggling to sit up.
“Yes, you already told us that,” Sharon said. “Several times. Just lie back and rest.”
Allie shook her head, remembering wisps of conversation dominated by her rush of pure relief when she’d spotted the vehicles by the bridge. She couldn’t remember much after collapsing in Sharon’s arms, only that she’d been focused on sending Carter help and that it had been incredibly hard to form the words. But something else nagged at her.
Then she remembered...Dwight.
“Did I tell you about Dwight?” she asked weakly. “What he did?”
“Yes,” Sharon said. “Bits and pieces. Carter filled in the rest. So there’s nothing more to do except sleep. Please, Allie. That’s your only job now.”
Allie sighed. Sleep sounded appealing and the timbre of Sharon’s voice was gentle. Her boss had even said “please.” Weird.
“I’ll be here the whole time,” Sharon went on. “Just know you’re safe. Carter is too.”
Safe. Allie relaxed, her eyelids drooping. Voices droned around her, talking about dehydration and exhaustion and fever. She could hear the beeping of monitors as someone fiddled with the IV stand. Still, the sounds were reassuring. Even better, her body no longer hurt—not her shoulder or her feet or one single abused muscle. Sharon was lecturing someone, clearly in full boss mode, and she had said Carter was safe. Allie tried to thank Sharon but her tongue was too heavy to wrap around the words. So she slept.
She woke to the sound of a trolley clanging in the hall and Sharon’s authoritative voice.
“You can speak to her once she wakes up. She’s still out of it.”
Allie cracked her eyes open and peered toward the voices. Sharon stood in the doorway, stopping two men from entering.
“I’m awake,” Allie croaked, surprised by the thinness of her voice. “I’m awake,” she repeated, raising her arm. “Come in.”
The two men eased in, flashing stiff smiles along with official-looking badges. At first they were solicitous, talking about her amazing trek and calling her a hero. But soon their expressions turned serious.
“We need to know if you actually saw Trina Kramer’s body,” the first officer said. “You had an incredible journey. It’s natural for exhaustion to play tricks on one’s mind.”
“I saw her,” Allie said. “Lying beneath the water.”
“What did you do? Did you touch her in any way?”
“Yes. I pulled her onto the shore but it was too late.”
“So you’re certain she was dead? Did you check her pulse?”
“No, but her arms were tied. Dwight must have held her under.” Allie leaned forward, trying to move into a sitting position so her voice would be stronger. “That’s why he was chasing me. Us. Carter and I.”
“Yes, we understand that.” The second officer was more soothing. “But we’ve taken Carter’s statement and he didn’t see Trina’s body. So we need to ask you for a few more details.”
“Did Trina seem afraid when you talked to her?” the first officer interrupted.
Allie shook her head. “We didn’t talk. I was following them. They didn’t even know I was there.”
“Why were you following? You were in a race. Weren’t you in a hurry to reach the finish line?”
“Yes, but I was hungry. I was hoping to find food, company.”
“I’m sure Trina and Dwight had lots of food,” the first officer continued. “We understand she was fishing by the river. And you’d been out there for several days, trying to survive. It must have been difficult seeing her supplies, wishing they were yours—
“That’s enough,” Sharon snapped, abruptly pushing between Allie and the officer. “This interview is over. No more questions until her lawyer is present.”
“That’s not necessary,” the second officer said, his tone more conciliatory. “We’re just trying to fill in the gaps. Right now, we have Dwight Kramer’s statement—”
“You caught him?” Allie jackknifed to a sitting position. She’d been afraid Dwight would escape and never pay for Trina’s murder. Or for the way he’d hurt Carter. With his smarmy personality, he could likely hide anywhere. Fool anyone.
“He also threw a hatchet at Carter,” Allie said. “Tried to kill him. Did Dwight tell you that?”
“He claims he was out of his mind after you killed his wife,” the second officer said, his voice more gentle now. “And that he was trying to hit you, not Carter. But don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of it. Questioning everyone is our standard procedure.”
“We understand.” Sharon jabbed her thumb at the door. “But both my employees will have a lawyer present when you talk to them again. And that’s my standard procedure.”
She ushered them out with a Barrett’s regal authority then closed the door behind them while Allie gaped in dismay. This was unbelievable. Ridiculous.
“They think I killed Trina?” she asked.
“Not really,” Sharon said, already pulling out her phone. “There are far too many holes in Dwight’s story. But you don’t deserve to be questioned so rudely. You’re the hero in this, and they need to treat you like one.”
“Carter too,” Allie said.
“Of course,” Sharon said, already turning away to speak to someone on the phone. Five calls later, she’d arranged for a criminal lawyer, a private security guard, and a pizza with extra cheese.
“There,” she said, giving a nod of satisfaction. “The guard will be here by the end of the day. He’ll keep everyone at bay while you’re in the hospital. Since the media were on hand at the bridge, they’re hot on this story. But you don’t have to worry about Dwight. He’s in police custody and my lawyer is confident he won’t be released. And,” she added, “Janet suggested you’d probably enjoy a pizza.”
Allie’s stomach rumbled. It felt like a lifetime since she and Janet had sat in the tree, talking about moose, men and all their food cravings. It seemed so light-hearted, compared to what she and Carter had endured.
“How is he?” she blurted, unable to care too much about lawyers or food or even Dwight. Not when all she could picture was a horrifying infection eating its way through Carter’s body.
“Who? Carter?” Sharon asked, absorbed in tapping out a text. “He’s fine. Don’t worry.”
“But I am worried. And I need to know his exact condition.”
Sharon looked up, her eyebrow arching. “Well, the hatchet hit exactly below the deltoid muscle and as you suspected, infection had set in. But he’s responding extremely well to antibiotics, along with irrigation and drainage. His arm will be fine. The cut wasn’t even that deep.”
“He’ll be fine?” Allie repeated, blinking with relief.
“Yes, thanks to you. It’s remarkable how you covered those miles so quickly. And that you were able to cross Dead Man’s Gorge. Kate said it was impassable without climbing equipment.”
“I used Carter’s rope. And I prayed a lot. I was so afraid he’d die.”
“Oh, Allie.” Sharon dropped her phone, stooped and gave her a rare hug. “I’m so sorry. I should never have let you go. I told Carter to look after you but I never anticipated anything like this.”
She kept talking about how the ranch would pay for all medical expenses and therapy, and that she and Carter didn’t have to worry about a thing. But Allie was too caught up in Sharon’s comment.
He’d been asked to look after her? Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bed sheet. Is that why he’d left Monty and followed her on foot, why he’d stayed beside her on the riverbank? She didn’t know why that bothered her. Maybe because she’d assumed that, like her, he was more than a little smitten.
And he was, wasn’t he? He’d thrust her in front of him, shielding her from Dwight’s flying hatchet. It couldn’t have been just the job. No sane employee would do that, even the most protective cowboy.
Still, her doubts and misgivings swirled, and it was a relief when Sharon left the room to round up snacks, reading material and to lecture the nurse on the importance of keeping Allie’s water pitcher full.
