Chapter 18
“…perhaps a slight concussion but she’s stable. The chloroform will just have to wear off by itself. She doesn’t seem to metabolize things very quickly.”
I didn’t recognize the voice.
“She’ll be okay, though,” James prompted anxiously.
“We’ll know more when she wakes up, but it looks good,” the voice reassured him. “She isn’t suffering from smoke inhalation like her friend.”
“He kept her as low to the ground as he could and drug her out of the cottage to try to keep her below the smoke,” James informed him. “How is he?”
“His sats seem fine,” the voice began “And he...”
“Sats…?” James interrupted, puzzled.
“His oxygen saturation level, in laymen’s terms, the amount of oxygen in his blood,” the voice explained. “We’ve also done blood gases and x-rays which all appear to be within normal parameters. We will probably keep him overnight for observation, and send him home tomorrow. They were both very lucky.”
“Yes they were,” James agreed wholeheartedly. “Thanks for everything, Doctor.”
“No problem,” he replied kindly. “The nurses will page me if I’m needed.”
I heard footsteps retreating.
I opened my eyes as I heard James approaching the bed. The agony on his face was almost more than I could bear. Our eyes met and I saw wetness in his.
“Allison,” he whispered taking my hand.
He didn’t seem to have enough breath to do otherwise.
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t find my voice. My throat was parched and I realized I was thirstier than I had ever been in my life. I attempted to mouth the word ‘water’, but wasn’t sure I was having much success. James seemed to understand. He reached into a cup on the table by the bed and put something cold into my mouth…ice. It felt wonderful. I mouthed the word ‘more’ and smiling slightly, James continued to feed me ice until I shook my head…big mistake.
My head suddenly started pounding so hard that I thought it was going to explode. I closed my eyes and moaned in pain.
“What’s wrong…Allison…did I do something?” James panicked.
“Head hurts,” I was able to whisper thanks to the ice.
“I’ll call the nurse,” James offered, locating the call button.
“No,” I whispered, grabbing his hand to stop him, “Fine now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” whispering was going to get old very quickly.
Carrying my hand to his lips, James kissed it gently.
“I thought I’d lost you,” his voice broke.
“I’m sorry.”
“If it hadn’t been for Stover…” he stopped unable to continue.
“Richard?”
“He pulled you out of the cottage.”
“How…?”
“Maybe I should wait until you’re stronger.”
“No, now…”
I frowned and then regretted it. Every head or facial movement set my head pounding.
James hesitated a moment, unsure whether to humor me or protect me.
“Please,” I begged.
As usual, James couldn’t deny me what I wanted.
“You remember you mentioned to him that you thought Natalie was following you the last couple of weeks?”
“Yes,” as hard as it was to talk it was the lesser of the two evils since I couldn’t nod without suffering excruciating pain.
“Well it was a good thing you did because when he saw Becky following you after lunch and then get into Natalie’s car and tail you out of the parking lot, he was worried. He disliked and distrusted Becky, and he knew she was jealous of your relationship with him and Natalie, so he decided to follow her. Although he lost sight of her as she turned onto the Fowlkes’ street and disappeared, he knew the Fowlkes well and recalled you telling him that my mother worked for them. The connection wasn’t clear in his mind, but he thought he would at least pull in and ask my mother if she had seen you.”
“He saw both cars pulled up next to the cottage and tried to get in, but it was locked. Walking around the cottage, he was able to see you and Becky through a window. You were already unconscious and Becky was dragging you into the kitchen. I can’t imagine how he felt watching Becky lighting a cigarette and dropping it near the can of paint thinner on the floor. The whole carpet was blazing. He stopped her as she escaped out of the cottage, but didn’t realize she had a gun. They struggled, the gun went off…”
“Richard!” I whispered in alarm.
“Becky was the one that got hit. She fell to the ground, but Stover didn’t have time to bother with her. After tossing the gun as far as he could throw it, he ran into the cottage and began dragging you out. Becky must have gotten up and followed him, because suddenly she was there trying to stop him. He pushed her out of the way, she was probably weak from loss of blood, and he managed to drag you out of the cottage and over towards the house. You were both unconscious when my mom and Mrs. Fowlkes arrived a few minutes later and called 911.”
“Is he…?”
“The doctor just told me that he’ll be fine.”
“Good,” I relaxed and closed my eyes.