Page 60 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
Shea blinked. “A what?”
“A bad break to the upper left arm. He also has soft tissue injuries. But there are no internal injuries, and no head injury.”
“That’s good,” Shea said.
“Verygood. Getting hit by a car is no small thing.”
“A car?” Shea stood again, confusion warring with relief. “I thought he fell off the lighthouse.”
Dr. Sturgeon’s eyebrows winged upward. “Well, that would’ve resulted in far more severe injuries, if not been fatal. No, your husband said he was hit by a car. I’m not sure where you heard the idea of the lighthouse.”
“The man who found Pete—he said he was lying at the base of the lighthouse,” Shea informed the doctor.
Dr. Sturgeon gave a small laugh, revealing straight white teeth. “I’m guessing he assumed as much, given where he found your husband near the lighthouse. Anyway, Pete is on an IV of pain medications to alleviate the stress to his body. From what I can tell, there are no bone fragments that have shifted out of place, so surgery doesn’t appear to be necessary. We’re getting him into a sling and such. He’ll need to keep that shoulder immobile for at least two weeks. I’ll want to do an X-ray next week to make sure the fracture is healing properly.”
“If it’s not?” Shea swallowed the panic that was still unnecessarily rising in her.
“If it’s not, then we’ll reassess. Sometimes surgery ends up being required. But let’s not borrow trouble.”
“Okay.” Shea nodded vehemently. Funny how she hadn’t prayed in weeks, but suddenly today it seemed as if praying was all she was doing.
“One other thing,” said Dr. Sturgeon. “When he first came in, he was understandably in a lot of pain and a bit delirious. He said the name Annabel. Seeing as it was a hit-and-run, the police were wondering if you knew who Annabel might be?”
Shea wrapped her arms around herself to steady her nerves. “No. No, that’s just some research he and I were doing together. I-I’m not sure why he’d mention her. Annabel died in 1852.”
“Oh! Well, Pete hasn’t mentioned her name again. In fact, he doesn’t even remember saying the name Annabel. Which is understandable. The shock of the impact, the pain, all of it can lead to some wacky things being said. The good news is there’s no evidence of a concussion—although he’s sure to be groggy from the meds when we bring him back to his room.”
Shea gave a nervous laugh and nodded. Then a question popped into her head, and she voiced it without thinking it through first. “If Pete was hit by a car ... the lighthouse isn’t even by the road. How did he end up by the lighthouse?”
Dr. Sturgeon’s eyes widened, more in consideration of the question than in surprise. “I’m not sure what to tell you. I know the police will want to follow up. There’s already been a report filed.”
Shea winced.
“But Pete is going to be okay, and that’s what matters most,” the doctor concluded.
“So someone hit him with their car and then sped off?” Shea still couldn’t wrap her head around what had happened.
Dr. Sturgeon grew serious. “From what he has claimed, yes. And his injuries are consistent with that.”
“Thank you.” Shea had no intention of enlightening the doctor any further with where her mind was beginning to go. If it wasn’t Annabel—which was ludicrous—then the only personwho would even bearoundthe lighthouse with a vehicle in the driveway would be ... Holt.
Dr. Sturgeon, oblivious to Shea’s swirling thoughts, reached out and touched her elbow. “Pete will be fine. After a scare like that, I want to keep him here overnight to monitor his condition and help with pain management.”
“Thank you,” Shea repeated.
Shea hated harboring suspicions regarding Holt, but she also couldn’t fathom who else might have driven to the lighthouse, struck Pete with their car, then left him there to writhe in pain. Pete would have been welcoming to whoever had pulled into the drive, likely standing close by where he was vulnerable to someone wishing to do him harm. No doubt he believed they would stop their vehicle. And if she took the scientific position that ghosts do not exist, nor do they have the power to exact vengeance on the living, then the only logical conclusion was that someone alive—veryalive—wanted Pete dead.
24
REBECCA
But our love was stronger by far than the love of those who were older than we...
Annabel Lee
ANNABEL’S LIGHTHOUSE
SPRING, 1874
