Page 4 of I'll Be There
A feral whimper emerged from the driver, a keening that worked its way into Conner’s bones, his cells. One he too well recognized. Conner got up, his stomach writhing, pretty sure he might lose it.
The cruiser had crossed the highway, pulled up, and a state patrolman ran down into the ditch.
Conner lifted his head to the rain, closed his eyes.
“That could have been us, if it weren’t for you,” Reuben said quietly, coming up beside him.
Conner’s mouth tightened around the edges. “It was me, twenty-one years ago. I wasn’t driving, but...” he glanced at Reuben. “I don’t know what my problem is. It’s not like I haven’t seen a car accident before.”
Or watched people die.
But maybe that was it. He turned back, his gaze on the driver, now rocking, weeping as Jed tried to hold him together.
As Pete continued CPR on the whitened body.
It came to Conner then, the source of the roiling of his gut. The one person missing from this weekend was the one other person who’d survived the crash that killed their parents.
The one person who should be celebrating his wedding.
Justin.
Wow, he missed him, although he lived with the wounds scabbed over most of the time. But maybe he’d gone too long without thinking about him. Without remembering how his brother loved sunrises and fishing and harassing him until Conner had finally cheered when he left for the military.Without caring that his brother lay in a crappy grave on a grassy hillside in Montana, his killer free, unknown, and with impunity.
And, thanks to one P.T. Blankenship, former lead investigator at the NSA, in charge of his brother’s murder case, never to be found.
Yeah, he should be here. Conner pressed a hand to his stomach and walked up to Jed. Crouched next to the driver. “What’s your name?”
A hitched breath. “Gunnar.”
“C’mon, Gunnar. Sit in the truck or you’re going to go into shock.”
Gunnar raised his gaze to him, brown eyes unseeing.
“There’s nothing you can do,” Conner said softly, but didn’t add any words of absolution. They wouldn’t set anyway. He grabbed Gunnar by the arm, hauling him to his feet. Led him across the grass and mud to his idling truck where he shoved him into the passenger seat.
Then he reached over and turned the heater on, full blast. Not that it would help.
The cold would seep in, latch on, and frankly, he doubted the kid would ever be warm again.
Conner grabbed his cell phone before he closed the door. He hunched over in the rain as he opened the text app and thumbed out a quick message for Liza.Will be a little late, sorry.
She didn’t text back, and he guessed the hour still might be early for her. He tucked the phone in his back pocket, folded his arms, and leaned back against the grimy truck, giving up any attempt to keep out the chill.
There’s nothing you can do.
Conner shivered against his own words.
A siren whined in the distance, an ambulance cutting up along the shoulder of the now parked traffic. The cruiser hadpulled out, routing traffic down to one lane, away from the mess. In the distance, thunder pummeled the sky cracked from bursts of lightning.
The ambulance pulled up, and Conner stayed at the truck, partially to trap Gunnar as the EMTs resumed work on his brother, packing him up. Not as hurried as they might be, but unable to pronounce him here.
The patrolman, badge name Monroe, came over, his vinyl rain poncho squeaking. “I need his statement. And yours.”
“He needs a hospital, first,” Conner said, moving in front of the door. Jed came up to join Conner. “Let him ride with his brother.”
Patrolman Monroe’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “Better hurry.”
Conner opened the door. Heat poured from the sauna inside. “You okay to ride with—in the ambulance?”
