Chapter Nineteen
Shuddering from hat to boots, Max forced himself to look over the edge, and what he saw hit him hard enough to send him to his knees. A dozen thoughts flitted through his mind: What had she been looking at? Why would she do such a thing? Was it possible she’d survived, despite the way she’d landed, arms and legs bent at abnormal angles? He didn’t see how, but he prayed for a miracle, anyway; if she was alive, it would be a miracle.
Dan, who’d no doubt heard his bloodcurdling bellow, was quickly making his way closer.
Max got to his feet just as Dan reached his side.
“Are you out of your mind, man, standing so near the edge? Did you not hear about the people who plunged to their deaths, almost from that very spot?”
Max didn’t want to be the one to break the gruesome news. Better he hears it from you than one of the paramedics, total strangers . . .
“I ran out of two-by-fours,” he began. “Went to grab a few, looked up and saw her, standing right here.” He pointed at the ground. “Didn’t want to risk shouting, scaring her so she’d lose her balance.”
“Her. You mean . . . ?” He swallowed. Hard. “Where is Anki?”
But Dan already knew. Max could almost feel the fear, pulsing from him.
He took a step forward, as if to look over the rim. But Max grabbed his forearm, and stopped him. It wasn’t like Dan to submit, no questions asked.
There were tears in his eyes when he said, “Max. Please. I have to.”
If Max allowed his partner to look down there, Dan would have to live with those images for the rest of his life. He tightened his hold. “We’re standing on shale, Dan. You know as well as I do, it breaks easily.”
“She was standing here . . .” His sob-thickened voice cracked. “. . . when the shale shattered?”
If he admitted what he’d witnessed, Dan would have to live with that every time he closed his eyes. Lord forgive me, he thought, and said, “Yes.”
Dan made another attempt to see for himself. Max said, “Don’t . . .”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Willa, who’d bundled Frannie in the blanket before joining them.
Standing on his left side, she stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear, “Where is your cell phone? I’ll call for help.”
Her eyes said it all: She knew that Anki had jumped ... and hadn’t survived. “In my truck,” he managed to say.
“Dan,” she said, “let’s get away from the edge, okay?”
Somehow, her soft, soothing voice reached Dan, and he allowed Max to lead him toward the trucks. He opened the glove box and handed her the phone, and she wasted no time dialing 911. After buckling Dan into the pickup, Max closed the door and listened as she provided a quick, concise report, concluding with, “A friend will make sure her husband meets the team at the ER.”
She started to hand him the phone, then withdrew it. “Just let me call Emily real quick, ask her to see if Phillip and his brother-in-law will pick up Dan’s truck.”
While she made the request, Max recalled a day, several years earlier, when the state police had blocked traffic on the highway to enable the high angle team to rescue a hiker. The helicopter crew had lowered a basket, then flown the body to the hospital. That accident, according to all reports, had been an accident. When they asked what he’d witnessed—and Max was sure that they would—he would not say the word “suicide.” To protect Dan, he’d carry that ugly secret to his grave.
Willa returned the phone, and he said, “I should go, so we’re sure to be at the hospital when the helicopter gets there.”
“Of course. We’ll be thinking of you.”
We, meaning Willa and Frannie. It seemed that even the baby understood the gravity of the situation. Wide-eyed and silent, she looked back and forth between her mother and Max. Oh, how he loved her!
“Don’t worry, little one. Everything will be all right.” He kissed her round pink cheek. “I promise.”
“Aw,” she said, smiling a bit, “nice Max.”
Eyes on Willa again, he said, “I have no idea how long this will take.”
“Then it’s good you’ll be with him. But . . .” She glanced at Dan, shaking his head in the passenger seat. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for him to be at the house. At least not just yet.”
“Too many reminders?”
“Exactly.”
“Good thinking,” he said again. “I’ll bring him home with me.” Max kissed her forehead, let his lips linger there for a moment. “Thanks for being you, sweet Willa. I’ll be thinking of you, too.”