She was so sure that had been his voice. And then she spotted him. He was on the boat with the crew that kidnapped her. He looked like a warrior from another era with the sun casting gold highlights through his windblown hair, his wide stance powerful despite the boat sinking beneath him.
“What about them?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, they’ve got it under control.” The paramedic tipped his head toward another boat she’d completely overlooked. “Hang on. This will sting a little.”
She hissed at the sensation as he blotted at something on her cheek. She hadn’t even known she’d cut herself. Through it all, he kept asking about her health until the Brookwell Island Police Department’s Lieutenant Frasier joined them.
Dazed, she answered his questions to the best of her ability. Telling him how Royer surprised her on the dock and dragged her underwater. “I should’ve fought more. Must’ve blacked out. Too afraid,” she said, ashamed. “When I came around, I was down in the galley.” She twisted back toward the boat the authorities were trying to keep afloat but she didn’t see Trent anywhere. “Where’s Trent?”
The paramedic exchanged a look with Frasier. “What’s that about?” Natalie demanded, though her voice sounded weak. “Where is he?”
The paramedic carefully moved her hand and examined her neck. “Here, Lieutenant.”
Natalie twisted trying to see what they were talking about. The muscles at the base of her neck were tight and painful. “What’s going on?”
“You didn’t black out due to fright. Natalie,” Frasier explained. He sounded so much like her dad in professional-mode she wanted to cry. “You were drugged. We need to get you over to the clinic.”
“No!” She wanted Trent more than anyone else. “No, seriously, I feel okay.”
“Seriously,” Frasier echoed. “You look like a woman who has been kidnapped and terrorized. We have evidence here that you were injected with something. Probably a sedative.”
A chill rattled through her. “Okay. I’ll go to the clinic first.” And then she’d find Trent.
“Thank you. We’ll all feel better once you’re checked out.” He patted her shoulder. “Take a breather and rest up. I know where to find you.”
She hoped the same held true for Trent. He was the only person she wanted to talk to. “Lieutenant, is Trent okay? I heard gunshots.” And though she’d seen him looking stern and strong,she wanted confirmation. What if that was just the drugs in our system helping her see what she wanted to see?
“He is.” Lieutenant Frasier nodded. “He led this takedown and rescue like the expert he is.”
“Good.” She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. He was okay. Safe. His case was over.
“You don’t mind if I tell your sisters to meet you at the clinic?”
She’d forgotten about her sisters and now guilt piled on top of everything else she was feeling. “That’s fine, thanks.”
The lieutenant’s voice was a pleasant backdrop as he filled in her sisters. The paramedic went out of his way to make her comfortable as Chief Miller piloted the boat back to the marina. It was all strangely muted, as if she was seeing it all from behind a fog bank.
At the dock, they didn’t let her take a step on her own. It was hard to be annoyed considering how sore she was. Her left hip and elbow were just nothing but a big ball of ache. And it still hurt to breathe. They secured her into a transport chair and moved her swiftly to a waiting ambulance that wailed the entire way to the island clinic.
At the clinic, the doctor on call did an immediate assessment and insisted on transporting her to Charleston. Though she protested to the best of her ability, both of her sisters and the doctor overrode her.
Roni leaned down and gave her a hug. “It’s okay. We’ll tell Trent where to find you.”
“Thanks.” Tears welled up and leaked down her face. She wanted to see him so badly. Needed to verify with her own eyes that he was okay.
The trauma team at the hospital ran test after test, quizzing her incessantly about the whole mess until exhaustion finally took her under.
Sometime later, it was dark when she roused enough to recognize Trent sitting beside her bed. “Hey,” she croaked.
“There’s my girl.”
Those three words, in his mellow voice, warmed her straight through. She tried to smile, but her face felt weird. “Are you okay?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” he said.
“I’m feeling better. I think? Do they have me on something?”
“Oh, yeah, they do.” He took her hand and gave her a smile. “You’re on the good stuff. Don’t worry about anything but feeling better. You’ve got a couple of cracked ribs to go along with your busted cheek and some serious bruises.”
