Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“And miss this happy reunion? Not likely.” He crossed the room and stood by the bed. “I promised to meet you here, and I’m a man of my word.”

“Yes, you are. But I didn’t expect you to wait here for hours.”

He shrugged. “Who said I did? Maybe I went out for dinner, or went shopping.”

She chuckled. “The doctor said there was a man pestering everyone for status updates on me every fifteen minutes, while I was in the operating room. I know that wasn’t Wesley.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was run off the road by a maniac.”

Marcus’s face drooped.

“Sorry. Bad joke.” She gingerly touched her stomach. “I’m pretty banged up.”

“That’s what you get for driving into a river.”

She tried to smile, but it made her head hurt. “Wasn’t exactly done on purpose.”

“I know.” He studied the soft contours of her face. “You do clean up well.”

“That’s good to know. So do you.”

He offered her the glass of water that was beside her bed, and she took a sip before saying, “How are my kids?”

Marcus pulled a chair to the side of her bed and sat down. “Your son and daughter are enjoying their sugar high at Hotel Hinton.”

She frowned, then realized he meant the hospital. “I hope they’re behaving.”

“They’re fine. Right now they’re watching Shrek .” He paused for a minute. “I hope that’s all right.”

“Yeah.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off his face. This was the man who had saved her. And her children. Those eyes and smile belonged to the man who had talked to her when she wanted nothing more than to scream and cry. He’d kept her sane when her world was pure insanity.

“Uh, do I have pudding on my face?” he asked.

She smiled. “Sorry for staring. It’s just that you…” She didn’t know what to say next.

“I know. You’re trying to figure out how a guy with such a sexy voice like mine could look like this.” He rubbed his bristly chin.

She held back a laugh. “Not exactly what I was thinking. But yeah, you could use a shave.”

Marcus shrugged. “I’ve been a little busy. You know, being a superhero and all.” He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs beneath her bed.

“Wow. You’re quite modest.”

He grinned. “I’m repeating what you called me.”

The man was more than charming. He was flirting with her. She couldn’t recall the last time a man had done that. It felt kind of good.

“Feel up to talking about the truck?” he asked.

“I see. First you get me all comfortable and unsuspecting, and then you bring on the questions.”

“Sorry. It can wait.”

“I was teasing.” She released a long sigh, then added, “I didn’t see much. A truck with those hunting lights. The truck was a dark color. That’s all I remember.”

“And Wesley doesn’t own a truck like that.”

She eyed him. “No. And he’d never hurt his kids.” She could tell when he squinted down at the floor that he didn’t believe her. “He wouldn’t, Marcus.”

“Colton saw a man outside the gas station when you stopped.”

“Really? I didn’t see anyone.”

“You were busy getting the key. The guy wore an Oilers cap, a T-shirt with a car on it and dirty jeans.”

She shut her eyes, willing herself to remember. “I didn’t see him.”

“You said you saw a couple of cars and a truck in the parking lot. Where were they exactly?”

Opening her eyes, she nodded. “The cars were near the pumps. The truck was…” She sucked in a sharp breath.

Marcus jumped to his feet. “Are you okay? Want me to call the doctor?”

“No. I’m fine. It’s not that.” She licked her lips again. “I remembered something.”

“What?”

“That truck had lights on the top, like the one that ran me off the road.”

“Are you sure?” Marcus asked, sitting again.

“I didn’t think of it before because they weren’t turned on at the gas station. The truck was idling, but the lights were off. Even the headlights.” She caught his gaze. “That’s weird, isn’t it? Usually if you stop and idle the engine, you don’t turn off the headlights.”

Marcus nodded. “I think that’s your truck.”

“It was blue!” she blurted. “That shiny metallic blue. Navy blue.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. The lights around the gas pumps lit it up.”

“Anything else?”

She smiled. “When I drove away, I passed the truck. I wasn’t really paying attention, but I did look in my rearview mirror.”

“What did you see?”

“Balls.” She blushed. “You know, those metal bull balls some guys hang on the hitch of their trucks.”

Marcus chuckled. “Ah, those cool cowboy wannabes.”

“Rednecks.”

They both laughed.

“So,” he said, “you saw a navy blue metallic truck with hunting lights on top and bull balls on the hitch.”

When he put it like that, she had to grin. But her smile faded fast. “Why would someone do this?”

“We’re not sure. My friend Detective Zur is working on it. They’re looking at the security footage from the gas station.”

“But you all think Wesley had something to do with this.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“No. Not that I know of.”

“Has Wesley pissed anyone off lately?”

“Probably.”

“That’s why the police are considering him a suspect.” Marcus leaned forward and picked up her hand. “We have a guard on your door, Rebecca. The kids too. Whoever did this might come back.”

“Because I’m still alive,” she said in a small voice.

“Yes.”

“Are you going back to work?”

He released her hand. “I’ve taken a… leave of absence.”

She sat up on her elbows. “It wasn’t a voluntary leave, was it?”

Marcus’s gaze shifted to the wall, then the window. “I’m on suspension. Until an investigation is completed. It’s the price you pay when you break the rules.”

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes snapped back to hers. “Hey, don’t be. I’m not. I could use a little break.”

“I guess being a 911 operator isn’t easy.”

“Some days.”

“And this was one of them,” she said dryly.

He shrugged. “It was a challenging day.” Then he grinned. “But I’d be kind of a lame superhero if I didn’t face challenges.”

“Well, I’m your number-one fan.”

“Speaking of numbers,” he said. “Remember when I told you about Jane’s habit of adding dates?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said the thirteenth was an unlucky day to plan your trip?”

Where’s this leading? “Uh-huh.”

“According to Jane you have to add up all the numbers and boil them down to a single digit. So June is six. Plus thirteen. That’s nineteen. Then you add the one and nine, which equals ten. Then you add the one and zero, which equals—”

“Sounds pretty convoluted,” she said with a laugh.

“I’m not done. One and zero equals one. Then add the numbers in the year 2013, which equals six. Then add that to the one, and voila!”

She grinned. “Seven. A lucky day. Really?”

He shrugged. “You’re still here.”

“You’re right. That’s pretty lucky, all things considered.”

She yawned and he clambered to his feet. “I’ll let you rest.”

“For a bit,” she agreed. “Then I want to see my kids.”

Marcus walked to the door. “Sweet dreams.”

“Wait!”

He turned back.

“Today’s June fifteenth, 2013,” she said. “What does that add up to?”

“Nine,” he said after a moment.

“What’s a nine mean?”

He smiled at her. “I’m fairly confident it means ‘out with old and in with the new.’ Means you’ve completed a cycle, and tomorrow you can start anew.”