Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) (18 page)

I pulled my hand away. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I think you’ve got a broken shoulder, and you’ve reinjured your ribs. Can you hand me the flashlight?”

He handed me the Maglite. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see if there is an ACE bandage or a sling in the first aid kit. There’s not much I can do about the ribs. I could try to tape them up, but I think that would be pretty hard in this small, confined space. I’m afraid all I have is an ACE bandage.” I unrolled it. “This is what I want you to do. Slowly bend your arm at the elbow, and place your forearm across your stomach. I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt. I’ll help you as much as I can. Once we do that, then I’ll wrap this around you to keep your arm immobilized. Think you can do that?”

“Piece of cake,” Jake said.

“I’m going to cut the seatbelt strap first,” I told him as I took the knife out of my pocket, and carefully cut the strap in two. I carefully moved it to the left before folding the knife and putting it in my pocket again. I applied some pressure to the spot where I felt the broken bone as Jake moved his arm. “You’re doing good; hold on just a minute longer.” I picked up the ACE, carefully wrapping it around him. “Just rest your arm on top of your stomach and try not to move too much.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I looked at his face in the rearview mirror, and I could see a cut on his left cheek. “You’re going to have a lovely scar on your cheek,” I said. I found some antiseptic wipes, and used one to cleaned the blood off his cheek. “It’s not too bad.”

“You need to clean your own face,” Jake said.

Turning my face to the left, I could see the trail of dried blood. Using another wipe, I scrubbed the blood off. “I feel like one giant bruise.”

“I’m sure you can color coordinate your clothes with the bruises,” he teased me. “It would be terrible if the colors clashed.”

“Oh, very funny.”

The blankets were heavy fleece throws. I carefully put one on top of Jake, took some sports tape out of the first aid kit, grabbed another blanket, and crawled out. It took a few minutes to get it fixed over the broken hatch window, and by the time I was done, I was really cold. I took the last blanket out of the back seat before sliding into the front passenger seat. “Nice job with the window,” Jake said.

“I don’t know how much good it will do, but it’s better than having a cold draft coming in.” I looked out through the cracked windshield at the darkness. “Well, now that we’ve finished our first aid, I believe the next thing on the list is figuring out how to get some help.”

“Mother will freak out when she realizes we’re not home.”

“When?” Jake mumbled something. “Speak up.”

“Probably in the morning.”

“Lovely. And your dad?”

“Not even at home.”

“Too bad you aren’t a stock on the market. He’d certainly notice a drop in income.”

“Very funny.”

“So what you’re telling me is we’re on our own, and we should depend on ourselves to get out of this lovely mess we’re in.”

“Something like that.”

“Yippie skippie.” I took my phone out of my pocket and checked the battery: almost a full charge. There were more than enough supplies in the emergency bags to make it through the night. I looked over at Jake. He had his eyes closed, and in the dim light of the Maglite, his face was a little pale. Was he hurt more than he let on? I checked the time. Just after 9 p.m. “Is there a chance that someone else may drive this road tonight?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not a traffic reporter, Lizzie.”

“It will probably be easier to go down than up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about hiking to the road and getting some help.”

“No way,” Jake said. He started to turn to face me, but grimaced in pain and sat still.

“There’s no way you’re going to go, bub,” I told him. I was wearing jeans, a long sleeved shirt, a heavy coat and my new boots. I took out an extra pair of socks from the bag at my feet, and taking off my boots, pulled the socks on over the ones I already had on. “I have to try, Jake. You need help.”

“You’re hurt, too.”

“I can handle muscle aches and pains, Jake,” I said, putting my boots back on.

“Well, here’s something to consider: whoever ran us off the road might be waiting around to see if one of us decides to go for help. Did you think of that?”

No, I hadn’t thought of that. Nerts. “Then I guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, won’t I?”

“You’re just going to sit right here and wait,” Jake said. “There’s no sense taking an unnecessary risk.”

“You mean because I’m a woman?” He didn’t answer. “If the roles were reversed, what would you do?”

“That’s different.”

“The hell it is, you chauvinist pig.”

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Nope,” I replied.

“Take the bag in the back seat. You’ve already taken stuff out of this one. Look on the floorboard behind my seat for a small black case.”

Sighing, I got into the backseat, and found the case Jake wanted. “Got it.”

“Open it.”

I did what he asked. “It’s a gun.”

“Take it with you.”

“Are you nuts?”

“No. I know you know how to use one.”

“I haven’t handle a gun since that night.” The night when I was forced to choose between saving T.J.’s life or killing my half-aunt. I guess you know how that turned out.

“I know,” Jake said, suddenly sounding very tired. “But you’ll have it just in case…”

Just in case someone was out there waiting. “Gotcha.”

“Go down. It will be easier than trying to find something to grab to haul yourself up.”

“Right.” I leaned forward between the front seats. “Keep that blanket wrapped around you, and try not to move too much. You don’t want one of those ribs to accidentally puncture a lung.”

“Lizzie? Be careful.”

“I will.”

“T.J. will kill me if I let something happen to you.”

“Hm, there’s a thought…”

“Not funny at all, Crenshaw.”

“I’ll be back.”

I got out, dragging the bag with me. I made sure the safety was on the gun before I put it in my right pocket. I slung the bag over my shoulder, made sure the blanket was secure over the back window, and pointed the flashlight down the hill. Taking a deep breath, I headed back to the road.

Chapter 23

I wish I could tell you I went on some long, courageous walk through the woods to the road. You know, like you see in all those
Lifetime
movies. The heroine fights off wild animals, spends the night in the cold, and stumbles into town the next day to mount a rescue of the injured members of her group. I wish I could tell you that…

…but I can’t.

Truth be told, it was far less dramatic than all that. More like Queen Klutz walking around with a flashlight, tripping over fallen branches, stepping in a couple of holes, and stumbling into the middle of the road…right in front of a car.

I fell down on the road, closed my eyes, and braced for impact, but the driver managed to stop in time. I heard a couple of doors open, and heavy footsteps running toward me. “Ms. Crenshaw?”

The glare of the headlights were blinding me, and I wasn’t sure who was there. I pulled the Sig Sauer out of my pocket. “Back off!”

“Whoa! Hold on,” a male voice said. He was standing to my left. “It’s Sheriff McDonald and Garth.”

“Garth?” How the heck…

“Why don’t you put the gun down first, Ms. Crenshaw?”

I put the Sig Sauer down on the ground. “The safety’s on.”

McDonald picked the gun up, made sure the safety really was on, and walked back to the car. Garth helped me to my feet. “Where’s Jake?”

I pointed at the hill behind me. “He’s still in the SUV. He’s hurt, Garth. I think it’s a broken shoulder, and reinjured his ribs.”

“Was he having trouble breathing?” I shook my head. “What about yourself?”

“I’m fine.” Was I really? It’s not like I had taken the time to check for injuries. Adrenaline does strange things to a person. I’d worry about myself later. “How did you know we were out here?”

“I put a tracker on the SUV when I loaded the emergency kits. Just in case…”

“In case of what?”

“Well, someone is harassing you, Ms. Crenshaw, and you two are trying to find a murderer. I thought it would be prudent to make sure you were safe,” Garth replied, taking the emergency bag from me. He walked to the back of the car and put the bag in the trunk.

Great, Big Brother is watching. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Something else to deal with later. “You and I really need to have a long talk, Garth.”

“Classified information, I’m afraid, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jake told me the same thing.”

The sheriff joined us again. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Sure. Someone decided to play bumper cars using real cars, and ran us off the road. Can we talk about this later? We really need to get up to Jake.”

It was decided it would be easier to go up to the place where we went off the road, and then work our way down to Jake. By the time we found the broken guardrail, two other vehicles had joined us. “How far down do you think he is?” one of the men asked me.

“I don’t know, maybe halfway? I’m not familiar with this area, and I had my eyes closed when we crashed through the guardrail.”

“We’ll find him,” the man assured me.

“You’ll have to crawl through the back window to get to him. Both sides are crushed in. His left shoulder is broken; I used an ACE bandage to secure his arm against his chest. He fractured a couple of ribs last week, and I think the accident may have made them worse.”

“Good to know. Anything else?”

“Those are the most serious injuries.”

“We’ll take it from here.” The man turned to McDonald. “Tell the ambulance to meet us on the road below. It will be easier to get him down, and less stressful for him.”

I wanted to go down there with them, but I knew I would just get in the way. The adrenaline rush I had been feeling for the last few hours suddenly disappeared, and I leaned against the nearest car. Garth helped me over to the car he and the sheriff had arrived in, and I gratefully sat down in the back seat. He drove us back down to where they had found me so we could wait for them to bring out Jake. “Why don’t you let me take a look at you?” Garth said while we waited. “Just to make sure you’re not doing the ‘take my buddy, he’s hurt worse than me’ routine.”

I waved him off. “I’m fine, really.”

“It’s either me or a free ride in an ambulance, which means you won’t be here when they bring him down.”

“That’s playing dirty.”

“Whatever works, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“Please, call me Lizzie. Ms. Crenshaw makes me sound so old.”

“Very well, if you insist. Why don’t we get out and stand in front of the headlights?”

He opened the back door for me, and held out his hand for me to take. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand in his. Every muscle screamed bloody murder as I got out. “I feel like I’ve been through a brutal workout,” I groused as we moved to the front of the car. “I haven’t hurt this much since…” I stopped when I realized what I was about to say.

Garth must have understood what I meant, but wisely didn’t say a word. “You’ve got a cut near your hairline,” he said.

“It looked worse before I cleaned it up. Jake had a cut on his left cheek. It didn’t look too bad. I took care of it.”

When Garth reached out to check my arms for broken bones, I involuntarily flinched and stepped back. He held his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s just…” I wasn’t sure how to put into words what I was feeling.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He hurried off.

I looked up the hill, wondering if Sheriff McDonald and the rescue crew had reached Jake yet. I knew leaving him had been the right thing to do, but I still felt a little guilty about doing it. All I could do now was pray.

“Ma’am?” I turned to see a young female paramedic standing next to me. “This gentleman tells me you were with the injured man that’s trapped in the SUV up there. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you walked away?” She sounded surprised. “Your friend here wants me to check you out, just to make sure that you’re not seriously injured. Why don’t we step back to the ambulance? We can do this privately.”

I looked at Garth, who simply nodded. He understood, and he wasn’t offended. “Thank you, Garth.”

“You’re welcome, Ms…Lizzie.”

“Will you let me know when they come out?”

“Absolutely.”

The paramedic and I walked back to the ambulance and climbed inside. She closed the door behind her while I sat down on the stretcher. “Your friend explained to me that you were a victim of an assault recently. He thought you’d be more comfortable being examined by me.”

“He’s a wise man.”

“Why don’t you take your coat off so I can check your vitals?”

Fifteen minutes later, I opened the ambulance door and climbed down. There was a band-aid on the cut on my forehead, an ACE bandage around my left knee, and an ice pack for my right shoulder. The paramedic had found an long, ugly bruise forming from my shoulder and across my chest where the seatbelt had been. She had suggested that I get some x-rays when Jake went to the hospital. I said I’d think about it.

I slowly made my way back to Garth’s car. He must have been watching for me in the side mirror, because he jumped out and hurried over to me as soon as he saw me. “What did she say?”

“Nothing broken, just badly bruised. Any word yet?”

“They’re still working on getting him out of the car.” We stood there looking up the hill for a minute. “Did you get a look at the truck?”

“Just the headlights.”

“Not much help.”

“Afraid not.”

Sheriff McDonald appeared, sliding his way down the hill. When he got to the bottom, he walked over to us. “They’re bringing him down.”

“How is he?”

He glanced at Garth briefly before answering. “He’s unconscious. Beyond that, I don’t know. I’m not a medic.”

“What did the paramedics say?”

“Nothing that I could really understand,” the sheriff said ruefully. “Biology was not one of my best subjects in school.”

I looked up in time to see them coming down the hill. Two in front, two in the back, a stretcher basket between them. Ropes were tied to the four corners of the basket, and they were carefully guiding it over the rough terrain. A couple of times, they picked up the basket and lifted it over a log or a hole. Garth and the sheriff went over to help them carry the basket over the ditch. I followed them to the back of the ambulance. They put the basket on the ground, and I noticed they had Jake strapped to a backboard, his neck immobilized. Carefully, they lifted him out of the basket, and put him on the stretcher. The female paramedic secured him to the stretcher before she and her partner, who had helped bring him down, rolled him into the back of the ambulance. I turned to Garth. “I’m riding with him.”

“I don’t think…” he started to say. I glared at him.

“It’s okay,” the female paramedic said, “she can ride with him.”

“Where are you taking him?” Garth asked her.

“Tazewell,” she replied.

He nodded and looked at me. “I’ll go to the house, get you a change of clothes, and meet you at the hospital with Mrs. Mathias.”

“Thank you,” I said as the ambulance doors were closed. A minute later, we started to move, the red and white lights flashing in the darkness.