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“They know what caused the explosion at the park. It was a basic homemade bomb. Something anyone who looked on the internet could put together. Nothing special that might lead them in the right direction. Ingredients you can buy at any hardware store. Or even online. You already know there was nothing helpful at the park. They did find out that the tunnel had been there for years. The owners knew about it, but it seems it was added by the original owner. Not sure why, but it could have been a way to get some of their workers out of the park if the police came around. Or they might have been smuggling something in. No way to know now. The guy who built the park died a long time ago, and they haven’t been able to find anyone still alive who was there when the tunnel was built. Of course, that was over seventy years ago.”
“So our guy knew about the tunnel, especially since he worked the Ghost Shack. He had this all worked out. What was at the other end of the tunnel?”
“Just a gravel road. No visible tire tracks. Nothing left behind.”
Jeff leaned back in this chair and frowned. “It will take a miracle for them to find her.”
Monty shrugged. “I believe in miracles ... and in Alex. You know what she’s capable of.”
“Yes, I do. But unless she can find a way to communicate with us, it really will take divine intervention for her to get those women to safety.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe we should pray for her?”
Monty’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry. Did you just say we should pray?”
“Don’t look at me like that. You all have made an impression on me. I see your faith and your love for one another. And ... well, I guess I owe the man upstairs something after He saved me from drowning.”
“I’m happy to pray with you,” Monty said. “But before we do that, could I tell you how to get God directly involved in your life?”
“Is this that ask Jesus into your heart thing?”
Monty gazed directly into Jeff’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it is.”
Jeff leaned forward and stared down at his desk for a moment, then said, “Okay, let’s do this.”
Dr. Schmeidler moved the light away from Logan’s eyes. Then she straightened up and frowned.
“So you’re telling me your eyes filled with tears, and then when they dried you could see?”
He nodded. “I know that sounds weird, but that’s exactly what happened.”
The doctor walked several feet away and turned over one of the papers on her clipboard before writing something on it. Then she held it up. “What does this say?”
He smiled. “It says I would never try to confuse Dr. Schmeidler. I’m telling her the truth.”
She let the clipboard drop to her side. “I don’t understand it, but I’m thrilled.”
“You told me my eyesight might improve on its own,” Logan said. “Why do you seem so surprised?”
“Blindness caused by anesthesia heals gradually. But because of tears? And this quickly? Never heard that before. Let’s just be happy you got this result. A nurse will add some drops to your eyes. Rest them. I’ll recommend an ophthalmologist familiar with brain tumors. After you’re home and doing better, go see him, okay?”
“You got it, Doc.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Still some pain.”
She nodded. “Not surprising. When I send you home, I’ll also prescribe some medication that will help you. But let’s get you off the opioids and onto an over-the-counter pain reliever as soon as we can.”
“Sounds good. Don’t know what I would have done without them before the surgery, though. The pain was horrendous.” He studied her for a moment. “I was surprised when Dr. Morton prescribed them. Did he tell you he was ordering an MRI? And did you think he suspected a brain tumor?”
“I know he did. We talked about it. Your symptoms were classic. I expected you to get an MRI much sooner, though. One of his staff dropped the ball. I wanted that test run two weeks ago. I think that woman lost her job.”
“People are people, Doc. They make mistakes. Trust me, in my work I’ve seen it happen. Even when lives are at stake.”
“As far as I knew, yours was. I can’t make mistakes, and neither can my staff.”
“If you believe that, you’re probably setting yourself up for failure. I’m afraid my colleagues made a mistake that could cost a . . . a dear friend her life. But I know they didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You’re not angry with them?”
