Daniel hated some parts of the job. Telling bad news to good people was top of his list. “Let me get to the hospital and assess. I’ll call from there. Mr. T has a weak heart. No sense causing him to panic if it can be avoided.”
“Yep. Okay. I’ve got this. Keep me posted.”
With a nod, Daniel retreated to his vehicle and turned on his flashing lights as he drove away. Triage. After responding to an accident, he assessed and acted accordingly. With almost two decades of experience, he trusted his professionalism to carry him through the hard stuff like calling the Thomases. He needed to apply the same principles to her. Emma presented a different challenge. He’d get a statement, although he needed different answers.
What did it mean that she was back? Did she also have questions about her sister’s untimely death? That summer had defined his life. He wanted to be a man of God in every way that he could. Giving back and protecting his town was the best path he’d discovered. And if staying also meant he could help make sense of the case that still haunted him—the accidental death that had never sat right with him—so be it. Maybe in getting to the truth, he’d be able to find peace for himself and prove himself worthy to the girl he’d always loved.
Two
Emma sat on the edge of the neatly made hospital bed and kept her eyes open wide. She tried not to blink as the doctor shined a light at her pupils. Her eyes watered, and she shifted on the bed. The sharp tang of antiseptic stung her nostrils. She’d rather be anywhere else. But Daniel had asked her to get checked out, and she had agreed.
“I’m sorry to get these linens dirty. I really feel fine,” she apologized.
“It’s fine. Laundry is part of the job,” Dr. Knick said. She clicked the pen light and slipped it into her pocket. “Alright, you should be fine. I see no cause for concern. No trauma. Just a little light-headedness. A natural response to what you witnessed.” The doctor offered a pleasant smile.
Emma released a heavy sigh and wiped her eyes. She had never fainted before and felt a little silly that she had done so and required medical attention when someone else was in dire straits. The doctor’s reassuring bedside manner eased some of Emma’s embarrassment.
She had bigger concerns than saving face in a hometown she had left years ago. “What about Owen? How is he?”
On the ride over to the hospital, she couldn't help but recall Owen completely vulnerable and almost lifeless on the stretcher. Her mind flashed back to the images of her sister's body at the bottom of the hill. She should never have looked at the crime scene photos when the sheriff had talked with her parents. Another stormy summer night decades ago wasn’t the same as this evening, Emma reminded herself. A shiver threatened to shake loose. If she gave in, she might never stop shuddering.
Owen had medical attention. He’d been found within those precious minutes following the accident. He’d make it. When her sister had been discovered, Liz had been a shell of a person, cold and unmoving, already gone.
Emma shifted on the bed again, sitting on her hands to combat the urge to fidget.
“I can't discuss other patients,” Dr. Knick said. “I’m sorry.”
Emma’s cheeks flushed. She knew that. “Oh, of course. I’m the one who should apologize. Ignore me.” She tucked her chin to her chest. In a moment of personal trauma, she forgot about the basics. Doctor patient confidentiality was part of an oath guiding caregivers. She had a similar agreement in her profession.
A knock sounded at the door.
Emma raised her head, grateful for any interruption.
A nurse poked his head in. “Doctor. We need you.”
“You’re okay to hang tight for a minute?” Dr. Knick asked, striding toward the door.
Was she? Emma didn’t know. Her head pounded with too much information. She flashed a thumbs up.
The doctor left.
Another knock sounded.
Daniel appeared. “Emma, how are you feeling?” he asked, stopping inside the door.
“Hi, Sheriff. Good evening again.” She lifted the corner of her mouth in her best attempt at a kind smile. She felt a mix of chagrin and distance, an off-balance sensation. “I’m fine, but I’m feeling a little overdramatic given what happened to Owen. How is he? Do you know? Can you tell me?”
“I can’t offer any specifics.” Daniel folded his arms over his chest.
His words hung in the air.
“Will he be here overnight?” she asked. Conjecture probably wasn’t in his code of conduct.
Daniel didn’t react.
She gulped. She wanted to ask about the other car. Had anyone found it? Was this targeted? She supposed a kid could have been out for a joyride. That seemed unlikely on that twisty stretch of road. If the driver wanted to floor it, wouldn’t the person choose the section of highway that was straight?
“Do you need a ride back to the camp?” he asked.
