The whole Cavanaugh clan was already waiting when we reached the hospital—a side effect of texting Erik. If I’d ever doubted that I was already considered a member of the family, I didn’t anymore. They didn’t flock only to Mark. They flocked to me as well, fussing and asking questions. The doctors had to order them to move back and wait.
For the next few hours, they shuttled me around to have x-rays and CT scans and other exams that I was too tired to track. Elise went back and forth between me and Mark, updating each of us on the other.
The positive side was that the results all came back clean. I sent up my millionth Thank you, Lord prayer. I’d seen less serious accidents result in broken backs and death. Mark had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. I’d be bruised and sore, but I was okay.
Assuming you could call having a shiner two weeks before your wedding okay. I’d caught a glimpse of myself in a piece of reflective metal as they’d wheeled me from one test to another. The air bag must have hit me in the face. I had a black eye, a cheekbone already sporting a bruise, and a few scrapes. Better that, though, than the steering wheel catching me in the face.
When they finally brought me back to the room where they wanted to keep me overnight for observation, Detective Dillion sat in the chair next to my bed.
“I hope you don’t mind.” He propped one foot up on the opposite knee in the way some men had of crossing their legs. “I asked your family to wait until I’d spoken to you.”
I did mind. There was no reason some of the Cavanaughs couldn’t be with me while I gave him my statement. But I had the distinct impression that he didn’t actually care.
The nurse helped me settle into the bed and gave me a look that said Should I make him leave?
I smiled in a way that I hoped let her know I was fine. He needed to take my statement before he could hunt down who’d done this. As much as he irked me, I wanted him to be able to do his job.
“The call button’s here”—the nurse pointed to it—“in case you need anything.”
Detective Dillion watched her go, an annoyed look on his face like she should have realized he was the good guy and I was the one engaged to a criminal. “I’m sure you’re ready with a statement to give me about what happened, but I wanted to be sure before you did that you realize we’ll protect you if this was an attempted murder-suicide by Cavanaugh. You don’t have to lie to protect him because you’re afraid of what he’ll do.”
Wow. This man was one hundred percent convinced that Mark was a villain. “I was driving, so I can guarantee that wasn’t the case. You can confirm that with the first responders if you’d like.”
He took down my statement without further jabs at Mark. Any time I tried to stray into why we might have been run off the road, though, he shut me down. Which was probably for the best anyway. I couldn’t have elaborated on the possible reasons without mentioning the file, and if I wanted another copy, I couldn’t let Detective Dillion know how we’d acquired the copy we had.
Elise came into the room as I was finishing. Her patience with Detective Dillion isolating me must have finally run out.
He vacated the chair next to my bed, and she dropped into it and shot a look at Detective Dillion’s retreating back that said she’d love it if he kept on walking, straight out of Fair Haven. “If we can’t find Chief McTavish, I hope they don’t stick us with him permanently.”
I doubted Detective Dillion would be willing to stay even if they asked him. “Has everyone else gone home?”
Elise nodded. “Everyone but Erik and me. We’re going to sleep here. Just in case.”
Just in case whoever ran us off the road came back to kill us while we slept. That seemed unlikely. They’d wanted our crash to look like an accident. Otherwise, they could have climbed down into the ditch and shot us both while we dangled from our seatbelts like laundry on the line.
That said, I’d sleep better knowing Elise was here, just like Isabel had slept better in my house than she had in her truck.
Elise leaned back in her chair and then shifted around as if she were trying to find the most comfortable position to take a cat nap. “Erik wanted me to make sure you knew for future reference that your phone will dial 911 if you tell it to even if it isn’t connected to Bluetooth.”
That would have been useful information to have a couple of hours ago. That’s what I got for avoiding the voice functions on my phone because the automated voice gave me the willies. Mark might have thought of it if he didn’t have a head injury, but I hadn’t even realized the option existed.
“As soon as I have a chance at the Internet, I’m going to research everything my phone can do with voice commands. Hopefully that will mean I never need to use them.”
Elise laughed. “Is there anything else you need before I get too comfortable?”
That didn’t seem like a real risk considering she planned to sleep in a hospital chair. But I did need to call Isabel and warn her that her husband might be in Fair Haven so she should lie low at my house for now. If it had been her husband, he clearly didn’t know where she was hiding since he’d been following me. She should be safe at my house overnight.
I also needed to get us another copy of that file as soon as possible. My credit with Grady Scherwin had run out, but Elise might still have some luck.
EMS had rescued my purse from my car and Elise had it, so I called Isabel first. I got the impression that this wasn’t the first time he’d found her. And that she would have been gone tonight if she hadn’t felt responsible for returning my kindness of a place to sleep by watching my dogs while I was in the hospital.
We disconnected the call, and I laid my phone down on the bed beside me.
I placed a hand over top of it. As silly as it was, I felt better being able to reach out and touch it and know that it was there. “Now I need you to call Grady Scherwin for me.”
Elise rolled her eyes. “Funny.”
I wished I was joking. I caught her up on what Mark and I had been doing right before the crash. There hadn’t been the time or the privacy before now.
Elise’s skin took on the pale, translucent quality of tracing paper. “Grady Scherwin it is. I’ll have to call the station, though. I don’t have his personal number, either.”
I’d have wondered about her if she did.
Elise dialed. “Hey, Sheila.” Her foot tapped a rhythm on the floor. “I need to get ahold of Grady, and I know he’s working tonight. Could you give me his cell number or get in touch with him yourself to have him call me right away? It’s important.”
She hadn’t needed to tell Sheila her name. The dispatchers really must get to know the officers’ voices well.
I could hear Sheila saying something on the other end, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Elise’s gaze skittered in my direction. “Are you sure?” she asked into the phone.
More noise on the other end.
Elise’s lips moved in what might have been a silent curse word. “Thanks, Sheila.”
She disconnected the call.
