Sara reached through the water, touching the fingers of moonlight shining down. The cold had turned into a shroud of warmth. She opened her mouth. Air bubbles traced up her face. Her heartbeat was slow, lethargic. She let her emotions wash over her. She let herself feel the luxury of surrender just one more second before she forced herself back to the surface, twisting her body around so that she could find hold on the rock.
“No!” she screamed, raging at the river. Her arms shook as she clawed her way up the rough surface of the stone. The water gripped her like a million hands trying to drag her back in, but Sara fought with every fiber of her being to drag her way to the top of the granite.
She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the sky. The moon was still gloriously shining down, the light reflecting off the trees, the rocks, the river. Sara laughed, because she was sick of the alternative. She laughed so hard that she started coughing. She pushed herself up to sitting, and coughed until there was nothing left inside.
She breathed deeply, drawing life back into her body. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. The cuts and bruises riddling her skin started to make themselves known. Pain woke every nerve ending, telling her she was still alive. Sara took another deep breath. The air was so crisp she could feel it touching every part of her lungs. She put her hand to her neck. The necklace was gone. Her fingers did not find the familiar shape of Jeffrey’s ring.
“Oh, Jeffrey,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
Thank you for letting me go.
But go where? Sara looked around. The moon was so bright it might as well have been daytime. She was in the middle of the river, at least ten feet from either bank. Water churned white around the smaller rocks that surrounded her. She knew some of them went at least eight feet down. She tested her shoulder. The tendon clicked, but she could still move it.
Sara stood up. There was a weeping willow on the bank, its waving tendrils beckoning her to the clearing underneath its branches. If she could get to one of the smaller rocks without being swept away, she could stand on top and jump to shore.
She heard a branch snap. Leaves rustled. Will came into the clearing. His chest heaved up and down from running. He had a rope coiled in his hands. She could read every emotion on his face. Fear. Confusion. Relief.
Sara raised her voice to be heard over the rushing water. “What took you so long?”
His mouth opened in surprise. “Errands,” he managed, still breathless. “There was a line at the bank.”
She laughed so hard she started coughing again.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, struggling against another coughing fit. “What about Lena?”
“She was in the basement. Jared called an ambulance, but…” His voice trailed off. “She’s in bad shape.”
Sara leaned her hands on her knees. Yet again, Lena needed help. Yet again, it fell to Sara to pick up the pieces. Oddly, she didn’t feel the usual reluctance or even the anger that had been her constant companion since that awful day she had watched her husband die. Sara felt at peace for the first time in four years. Tessa was right-you couldn’t fall off the floor. Eventually, you had to get up, dust yourself off, and get back to the business of living.
“Sara?”
She held out her hand toward Will. “Throw me some rope.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WILL SLOWED THE PORSCHE TO TURN ONTO CAPLAN ROAD, trying to follow the directions Sara had given him. She had drawn arrows by the street names, and as long as Will held the sheet of paper in the right direction, he should be able to make it to Frank Wallace’s house without losing his way. Sara had even given him her reading glasses, which were so small on his face that he looked like Poindexter’s idiot cousin. Still, she was right. The glasses worked. The words on the page in front of him still did their tricks, but at least they were sharper.
His phone rang, and Will fished around in his pocket, steering with his knees for fear of dropping the directions. He saw Faith’s number in the caller ID.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve left two messages on your cell. I even called Amanda.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on maternity leave?”
“Emma’s asleep and I’m sick of being in this stupid hospital.” She began a litany of complaints that started with the bad Jell-O and quickly segued into breast tenderness.
Will stopped her there. “I got my bad guy.”
“What?” Faith’s voice went up in surprise, and he realized that she’d had no great hope that he would solve the case so quickly.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, shut up. You know I’m just annoyed because you did it without me.”
Faith wasn’t given to sudden fits of emotional honesty. Will knew better than to pursue the point. Instead, he told her about the drug trial and the lengths that Darla Jackson had gone to in order to take out her blackmailers and get rid of Lena Adams.
Faith asked, “How much money are we talking about?”
“We don’t know how many records she was falsifying. Maybe tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Holy crap. Where do I sign up?”
“No kidding,” Will agreed. The money would’ve come in handy. He wasn’t looking forward to going back to Atlanta and digging up his front yard again. “ Lena ’s still at the hospital. I think they’re going to keep her for a while.”
“I’m surprised Sara helped her.”
Will had been surprised as well, but he guessed being a doctor meant you couldn’t pick and choose who you saved. Still, there hadn’t been much talking while Sara hooked up the IV and ordered Jared to get Lena water, then more blankets, then more water. Will wasn’t sure how much of this was meant to help Lena and how much of it was designed to keep Jared from having a nervous breakdown. Either way, it had worked to bring a much-needed level of calm to the situation.
Jared had been frantic from the moment they entered the children’s clinic to search for Lena. His erratic behavior had cost them several valuable minutes. He’d kicked down doors that weren’t locked. He’d overturned desks and toppled filing cabinets. By the time Will had found the locked basement door, the young man was so spent that he’d barely had the strength to help Will break it down.
And then Jared’s second wind had kicked in. He’d rushed downstairs, heedless of anyone hiding in the shadows. They had found another locked door at the back of the basement. Deep ruts were cut in the concrete where metal shelving had once covered the entrance to what had to be a bomb shelter. An old but sturdy deadbolt held the door firmly in place. Jared had pounded away, popping off the steel like a pinball, nearly dislocating his shoulder, before Will came back with a crowbar from the workbench.
Will had to admit that he didn’t think of Sara until after the door was pried open. Lena was barely awake, shaking with fever. Her body was drenched in sweat. Jared cried as he untied the rope from her hands and feet, begging Will to get help. That was when Will had gone upstairs to find Sara. He was staring at her empty BMW when he heard her screams from the river. It was sheer luck that she’d managed to call for help before Darla pulled her back down into the water. It was even better luck that the rope that was used to tie up Lena was long enough to help Sara get back to safer ground.
Not that she had needed it. Will was pretty sure she was capable of taking care of herself. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see her walk on water after the hell she had survived.
On the phone, Will heard a baby gurgle and another woman talking.
Faith’s voice was muffled as she said something to the nurse. She told Will, “I need to go. They brought Emma for her feeding. Didn’t they, baby?”