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I look over her head to the medic, “Can you treat her here?”
I can tell he wants to argue, but he nods.
Cupping Elouise’s cheek, I give her a nudge until she looks up at me, “He’ll look you over in the ambulance. But if he says you need to go to the hospital, then we’re going.”
She blinks up at me, “Okay.”
Someone hands over a jug of water, and we use it to clean the worst of the mud off. The room temperature liquid feels almost warm cutting through our current chill. And I know we need to get out of the elements soon or else we’ll end up with hypothermia.
There’s a commotion on the hill leading down to the lake.
Elouise starts to turn towards the sound, but I catch her by the shoulders and turn her towards me.
Her lip wobbles and I don’t know if it’s from cold or emotion, “Is it him?”
I slide my hands up until I’m holding her face still, then move my eyes over her shoulder.
A handful of first responders crest the edge of the road, pulling a stretcher up with them. Once they’re all up, they lift the stretcher and carry it to the back of the other ambulance. A few emergency flood lights have been set up, making it easy to see the hilt of the knife protruding from the dead man’s chest.
Some part of my brain is telling me I should be repulsed by the sight, but the knife sticking out of his heart is the same knife that threatened Elouise’s life. And if it wouldn’t land me in cuffs, I’d jerk that blade free just to stab him all over again.
I press my lips to her forehead, holding them there until the ambulance doors close on Mr. Olson’s corpse.
“He’s gone.”
She shakes her head, “I don’t get it. He always seemed nice…”
I kiss her again, “Later.”
Guiding her into the ambulance, I follow her in and sit down next to her. The heated air swirls around us as the medic checks vitals, asking Elouise questions and cleaning the cuts on her neck.
With no signs of a concussion and no need for stitches he reluctantly lets us go.
Of course, the cops stop us, needing questions answered.
With Elouise visibly shivering, I’m able to convince them to follow us to her house, so we can shower off the rest of the mud and warm up.
I help Elouise up into my truck and reach across to buckle her seatbelt. I wish there was a way to get her home without putting her right back into a vehicle, but there’s no other option.
She shivers, and I adjust the air vents so they’re blowing their hot air directly at her. “Sorry Babe, I wish I had another blanket in here for you.”
She holds her hand out over the vent, “It’s okay we’ll-” she cuts off and looks over at the lake, “Your sleeping bags!”
“Uh,” I glance out to where her eyes are pointing. “What?”
Her eyes hold far too much sadness when she looks up at me, “Your sleeping bags are still in my trunk.” She sniffles. “I meant to give them back to you. I’m so sorry.”
The tears break loose again and I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Smoky,” I kiss the salty streaks off her cheeks, “I can buy more sleeping bags.”
“But-”
I shake my head, “No buts.” My thumb runs over her skin again and I want to see her smile so badly. “I can buy a whole store of sleeping bags. I’m rich. Remember, Baby?”
Instead of smiling she just nods like I’m being serious, “I remember.”
Pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, I decide I’ll only make it through the rest of the night if I focus on one task at a time.
And right now, it’s getting us home.
