Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“Why would you do that?”

The nurse bit her lip. “It’s in case someone tries to… uh, tamper with your IV.”

“Tamper.” Rebecca blinked, then glanced at Detective Zur. “You think someone will try to drug me?”

“Possibly. We think they’ll try to take advantage of your ‘relapse’ and make your death look like an accident.”

“I guess that’s better than having them walk in and shoot me.” She cringed. “What’s stopping them from doing that?”

Detective Zur shook his head. “Whoever planned this has been very smart up until now. He’d want to get in and out as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t risk gunshots.”

“What if he has a silencer?” she asked.

The detective glanced from Rebecca to Marcus and back to her. “I think you two watch the same movies. Listen, Mrs. Kingston, the first attempt on your life was in a remote location away from witnesses. If you and your children hadn’t survived, we wouldn’t have Delaney. It might even have appeared to be an accident. Like you’d taken the wrong turn and run off the road.”

“And you think whoever hired this Delaney guy still wants no witnesses and no evidence leading back to him.”

Detective Zur nodded. “And a death that looks accidental.”

“Plus, injecting you with a drug gives him time to get away,” Marcus said. “Less chance he’d get caught.”

“Exactly,” the detective agreed.

“So I’m going to lie here and pretend I’m fading in and out of consciousness, and try not to fall asleep.” She sighed. “I guess I can do that.”

“We have two cameras set up in your room,” Zur said. “One aimed at the door and the other at your bed.”

“So you’ll see everything.”

He nodded, then beckoned to an officer standing in the doorway. “We don’t have time to wire your room with microphones, so Corporal Raddison is going to secure a wire to your pillow.”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “But you’ll get him even if he says nothing?”

“All he has to do is make an attempt and we’ll get it on tape.”

“What if he tries to smother me with a pillow?”

“Every pillow has been removed from your room, except the one you’re lying on. We’ll be here in seconds of him making a move.” Zur glanced at his watch and picked up the TV remote control. “Ah, showtime.”

He flicked on a local television station, and Rebecca gasped. Her photograph was pasted across the screen. Below it, the caption read, “Hit-and-run victim suffers serious complications.”

The camera zoomed in on a female reporter standing outside the hospital. “Rebecca Kingston, a victim of a vicious hit and run that included her two children, remains in serious condition at Hinton Hospital. Sources say the woman is in and out of consciousness after lung surgery setbacks. Her two children will be released into their aunt’s care later this afternoon, while Rebecca Kingston continues to fight for her life.”

A man’s face flashed on the screen.

Rebecca shivered. Rufus Delaney.

She knew his face from the photo Marcus had shown her. This was the man who’d run her off the road.

“Turn it off please,” she said quietly.

The detective gave her an apologetic look, then turned off the television.

“So now all I do is lie here and wait?” she asked him.

“Yes. I’ll be able to check on you once in a while, as will one of the nurses. To make sure you’re okay. We don’t want you panicking and having a relapse for real.”

“I’m sure that’s a big comfort,” Marcus muttered.

She reached out. “I’m fine. And I’ll be fine. This was my choice.”

When he took her hand and squeezed it, she felt rejuvenated with energy.

“I’m sticking around too,” he said.

“You can’t stay on the floor,” Detective Zur argued. “Your face has been plastered all over the news. For saving Rebecca and her kids.”

Marcus shrugged. “Then it’ll make sense why I’m hanging around.”

The detective’s lips thinned. “You can’t interfere.”

“He won’t,” Rebecca said. “Right, Marcus? You’re going to stay at a safe distance and let them do their jobs.”

“Fine.”

“You can sit in the room with the recording crew,” Detective Zur said. “You’ll be able to see and hear everything in this room.”

“There. Everything’s settled.” Rebecca attempted a smile.

“It will be,” Marcus said. “Once we catch this bastard.”

She glanced at the detective. “Can I have a word with Marcus alone, please?”

“Of course. No more than five minutes. Marcus, when you’re done, meet me in the exam room across from the nurses’ station?”

“Okay.”

When she was alone with Marcus, her hands began to shake and her lips trembled in fear. “I’m not sure if I can do this.”

“You can.”

“But some guy might come in here and try to kill me.”

“Might. We don’t even know for sure that anyone will show. And even if he does, he won’t get far. Zur will catch him.” He stroked her hand, his fingers warm against her skin. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. And you trusted me once before, remember?”

“Kind of hard to forget.”

“June sixteenth, 2013,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“Today’s date. It’s a ‘one’ day. New beginnings, remember?”

She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Be brave. You’re a strong woman, Rebecca Kingston. And when this all over, you and I will go out and celebrate.”

She gaped at him in surprise. “Are you asking me out? On a date?”

“Time’s up! I have to go now.”

He was gone before she could argue.

A second later, she realized he hadn’t answered her question.

Geraldo and Simms, two plainclothes officers, sat at a makeshift desk—the exam table—monitoring a live computer feed and scarcely acknowledging Marcus’s presence as he wandered around the room. Every now and then they’d send a status report to Zur.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “How long’s this going to take?”

He didn’t expect an answer. And he didn’t get one.

The entire floor had been cleared of nonessential personnel. Patients had been covertly diverted to other areas of the floor, while hospital security restricted all visitors. Yet there had been no action near Rebecca’s room.

Come on, asshole. Take the bait!

Marcus had spent the past few hours watching the video from Rebecca’s room. Only the nurse, who had been cleared by the police, and John Zur had entered the room. The latter made an imposing figure dressed in doctor’s gear, a stethoscope draped around his neck and a bogus ID tag clipped to his jacket pocket.

Marcus hovered over one of the techs and listened in.

“Need anything, Mrs. Kingston?” the nurse asked, flicking a look over her shoulder and staring into the camera. She gave the thumbs-up.

“Maybe a glass of water,” Rebecca said.

The nurse disappeared into the washroom and returned a few seconds later.

After Rebecca had taken a few sips, the nurse said, “I have to empty the glass. An unconscious patient wouldn’t be drinking water.”

“I understand.”

Marcus admired Rebecca’s courage. She’d been through so much. She’d survived abuse at the hands of her husband and a murder attempt that had almost been fatal. And now she was luring in a killer.

His cell phone rang. “Hey, John. Any word?”

“Nothing yet. Security is tight, but there haven’t been any reports of anyone suspicious entering the hospital. ’Course it would help if we knew who the hell we were looking for.”