“It was a couple of weeks ago. She didn’t report it because it was right after inventory, and whenever they have any kind of equipment that doesn’t work properly—beds with mechanical errors, IV poles with loose wheels—they send them out for repair or replacement.” He takes a deep breath. “She said it was the usual pickup van outside, but when she’d waved and called out to say hello to Andrew, the guy who typically does the picking up, whoever was out there got right into the van and left.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head as tears stream down his cheeks. “She just figured it was a new guy stepping in, but after finding out what happened to Lani, she thought it might have meant something else.”
“She saw whoever was taking the equipment? Did she describe them?”
He shakes his head. “She didn’t get a good look at their face.”
We had a witness.
This entire time.
And now—she’s gone. But if there was one, then there must be another.
“Do you know what day she saw this?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe a week before Lani was taken? It was the day after inventory.”
Security cameras. We ran through them, but if they were altered—Tucker.We need Tucker. If someone got into the emails, they could have easily altered videos.
I file it away for later, knowing that Taylor needs me right now. “Who can I call for you?” I ask. “Your mom?” The woman is in her eighties, but she still lives here in Pine Creek and plays bridge with my mom every Wednesday night.
He shakes his head. “I need to be alone right now. I need to—God, why her? Why did He take my Carla?”
Tears burn in my eyes. “I wish I had an answer.”
Silence surrounds us as Taylor processes the loss of a woman he’s loved since they were teens at the very high school he teaches at. Born and raised in Pine Creek, that’s what they were. Soulmates from the moment they met.
And now she’s gone.
My heart breaks all over again.
“Can you pray for me?” he asks, tone broken. “Please? I—I really don’t think I can do it, and I know I need it because I am so angry. So beyond angry. At whoever did this. And at—” He trails off. “At God for taking her.” He chokes on the words, shoulders shaking as he begins sobbing again. “Why did He take her?” His hands clench into fists, so I remain where I am, one arm around his broad shoulders, as I bow my head.
“Lord, I ask that You be with Taylor during this time. While we do not understand Your plan, I know You have one. Please grant us discernment so we may see the truth in this tragedy and guide my steps so I can find out who brought it to his doorstep. God, please give Taylor strength and wrap him in your Holy Light. I ask this in the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” he chokes out through the tears. “My brother,” he says.
“What?”
“You can call my brother. Tell him I need him.”
LANI
I slammy fist into the heavy bag, and it creaks as it swings on its chain. I know nothing about boxing, but it feels way too good to hit something.
Since my brothers built this gym on our family ranch, it’s one of the few places I get to go without an escort. Of course, our security cameras are being monitored remotely by a team in Maine, and they won’t hesitate to call if anyone shows up who’s not supposed to be here.
I tried too hard to sleep last night, but ended up staring up at the ceiling until five thirty this morning when I heard my mom downstairs. After a cup of coffee and some light conversation, I knew I needed an outlet.
Something to make me feel stronger.
My brothers taught me everything I know about self-defense, though, admittedly, I didn’t pay nearly the attention I should have. And it almost cost me my life.
A quick tone sounds through the gym, so I cross over to lift my phone, only to be disappointed yet again when it’s just a message from Dr. Pierce and not Gibson. I haven’t talked to him since last night when he dropped me off here.
Dr. Pierce: I hope you’re feeling better. We miss you around here!
Me: Thanks. Miss all of you too. How’s the new doc working out?
I’d had the chance to meet Doctor Eric Street the day I came home from the hospital. It was in passing, and very brief, but he’d seemed kind. I remember being impressed with his résumé and references that included a residency at Boston Memorial.