The Healer

  He wiped his eyes.

  “A gun is missing that was used at the school. Did you take it? Did you bring it home?”

  His head jerked up. “No! I wouldn’t do that. Nathan plays with anything he finds.”

  She watched Adam—the flush of anger that showed with his words and the way he dropped his eyes and bit his lip for having yelled at her.

  “If you hear anything about it, will you tell me?” She waited but he didn’t look at her.

  He finally nodded.

  She could tell he was upset by the questions. “I need to know and I had to ask.”

  “It’s okay.”

  His voice said it was anything but. “Not if you feel like I don’t trust you. I know how hard you try to do the right thing. I’m just scared because I can’t find the gun. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

  Adam looked up as she spoke. “It’s okay.” He sounded like he meant it this time. He wiped his eyes again. He was nearly breaking the pencil he had picked up. The stress this boy was under was intense. Rachel moved him up to the top of her watch list.

  “I’m so sad that this happened to you and your friend. Is there anything you need or want me to tell your mom for you?”

  He thought about it then shook his head.

  “Is there anything you’re not telling me I should know?”

  He bit his lip. “Could I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you go into the high school with Kate?”

  “Because she’s my sister and I wanted to do anything I could to protect her.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “Very.” She paused to see if he wanted to ask anything else. “You know you can page me if you need me, right?”

  He pulled her card from his pocket. “Mom laminated it for me.”

  “I’m glad.” Rachel got up and hugged him. “It’s going to be okay, Adam.”

  “I want my friend back.”

  “I know.” She tightened her hug. “Cole came with me. Would you like to come say hi?” She wasn’t sure if he would want to, but he nodded.

  They joined Ann and Cole in the kitchen. Cole came over and knelt down to greet him. Rachel was relieved to see Adam rebound and start to smile under Cole’s attention. It was a tough call to make, but Rachel decided to talk to Ann later that afternoon when it could be a private conversation. Rachel sampled enough cookies Nathan had helped bake that she edged toward queasiness with the sugar and lack of sleep. After half an hour, Rachel hugged the boys farewell.

  Cole walked with her outside.

  “Does Adam know anything?”

  She was still struggling to figure out the answer to that. “He says no, but I’m not sure. I think he knows more about what happened than he’s willing to say. If he thought he was protecting Tim by taking the gun, he might have hidden it. I do know it’s not in the house. He wouldn’t want Nathan to get hurt.”

  “Who else may have it?”

  “Mark’s friend Chuck is still a possibility. Wilson was going to talk to him. Do you have time to take me by the hospital to see Marissa?”

  “I’ll drop you off and go check in with my office, then come back for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “We’ll find the gun and the student who has it, Rae.”

  “Before someone else takes a rash action?”

  The .38 had already been used in a murder and a school shooting. They needed a lead. And she felt like she was missing it. Jesus, I’m going to fail without Your help. We need to find who has this gun.

  Thirty

  Rachel eased the door open to Marissa’s hospital room. She’d been given a private room on the orthopedics floor. Marissa’s mom said she had had a peaceful night and was resting. The fever she had begun to run after surgery had come down. Marissa’s mom and dad had spent the night here but had stepped down to the private waiting room to have a cup of coffee.

  “Hi, M,” Rachel whispered.

  “Rae.” She opened her eyes, still drifting in and out and smiled.

  “How are you?”

  “They gave me something to help me to sleep last night. It worked.”

  Rachel sat down in the chair next to the bedside and slipped her hand under Marissa’s. “You look better than the last time I saw you.” Her pallor had eased. Around the room were numerous gifts of flowers and dozens of get-well cards. Rachel could hear the sound of the automated pressure cuff around Marissa’s ankle inflate and deflate every few minutes to keep a blood clot from forming.

  “Tomorrow I’ll look even better. Janie was by. She brought me makeup and a pair of wonderful earrings.”

  “I’ll bring fingernail polish. What color?”

  “Peach.”

  Rachel reached for a glass of water and held the straw for Marissa.

  “Thanks,” Marissa said. “Janie said the press was asking about me. All I did was fall down some stairs. But because I only have one leg, the press thinks I’m a better story than one of the kids who got shot.”

  “Trust me, they are interested in everybody,” Rachel said. “You can decide when and if you want to talk to them.”

  “Maybe after my leg is in a cast and it’s covered with signatures. Did you see my dad? He’s here. He helped me with breakfast.”

  “I talked with him for a few minutes. He’s coping, M.”

  “He promised to be the first one to autograph my cast.”

  “I’m glad.” Rachel squeezed her friend’s hand. “I have some hard news for you.”

  Marissa nodded. “I thought you might. Mom and Dad were doing a good job of not answering my questions directly.”

  Rachel hurt for the news she had to share. “Greg is dead. And Tim.”

  The monitor behind Marissa captured the shock as her heart rate jumped. There was a moment of disbelief, and then tears filled her eyes. “Both of them.”

  “I’m so sorry, M,” Rae said, her own eyes filling with tears.

  “Were they shot?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?” Marissa wailed.

  Rachel rubbed her arm. “We’re not sure yet,” she said softly. “Tim died in the boys’ locker room at his school. People saw Greg chasing Mark Rice. There were gunshots exchanged. They both died at the high school.”

  “No.” Marissa’s voice trembled.

  Rachel leaned across the bed and hugged her. “I know, honey. I know.” She would feel the same way if something had happened to Jennifer. Rachel got Marissa tissues and sat quietly, letting her friend absorb the news.

  “I told Greg he should go to the principal.”

  Rachel stilled at the mention of his name. “Was something going on?”

  “Mark picked on Tim. Greg and Mark got into a fight once about it. It just got worse. I know Greg talked to Mark’s mom about it.”

  “Carol Iles?”

  Marissa nodded. “It was after Tim came home with skinned knees. He’d been skateboarding at the park and Mark and one of his friends hassled him.”

  “When was this?”

  “A couple months ago. I thought it was getting better. Tim hadn’t said anything lately, and Greg hadn’t mentioned it.” Marissa’s hand tightened on hers. “Greg promised his mom he would look after Tim. Did Greg die because of that?”

  Rachel brushed back Marissa’s hair. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out.” She could offer so little comfort but her presence. Marissa’s mom and dad would be the ones to help her through this loss, but there was one part of the shock she could help alleviate. “When did you last see Greg?” Rachel tried to pull out the happy memories, knowing there was comfort in them.

  “Greg was teasing me over lunch that he was going to get me to dance with him at the prom, even if he had to hire the band to stay around after everyone else went home.”

  Rachel shared a smile with Marissa and leaned against the bed railing. She rested her chin on her hand. “I’ll tell you abou
t my first date with Cole if you share your first one with Greg.”

  “Greg took me to a movie.”

  Rachel reached forward and gently wiped away a tear slipping down Marissa’s cheek. “Romance or adventure?”

  Marissa smiled. “Romantic comedy. He was pulling out all the stops.”

  The fire station was humming with activity Wednesday. It had become the staging area for the extra police who were assigned to patrol the community and deal with the intense media and community interest in the schools. The scene yesterday had taken its toll, for more than one member of the department had children attending those schools.

  Cole set down his coffee and moved the stack of phone messages on his chair so he could sit down. He wasn’t staying long, but he needed to get a feel for what else had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “Did you get any sleep?” Jack asked. His friend leaned against the office door.

  “A catnap or two. I’ll cut out later this afternoon. I dropped Rae off at the hospital to visit with Marissa, and I’ll pick her up in an hour to give her a lift home.”

  “What can I handle for you?”

  Cole appreciated the offer. He handed Jack the top folder. “That diner fire last Saturday? I heard the lab reports came in. They’re somewhere on Terry’s desk. Would you see what’s there?”

  “Glad to.”

  His assistant poked her head in the doorway and leaned around Jack. “Cole, line 5. The district attorney.”

  “I’m not here.”

  She smiled back at him. “I already tried that one.”

  Cole reached for the phone. “Jeffrey, what can I do for you?”

  Jack followed Terry out of the room.

  Life didn’t stop because a school shooting happened. Cole moved as much paper as he could as he talked about an arson case coming up on appeal. No wonder Rachel was so often exhausted. He’d been working the school shooting for twenty-some hours, and the idea of going another five days through the funerals before the first break came felt impossible. He had to make sure Rachel got at least six hours of solid sleep this afternoon.

  He wished the rest of her team would get here soon so someone better at debriefing could help her talk through what she had seen. What Rachel had been through was more than just traumatic, and he worried about the aftereffects. She had pulled herself together to focus on the job at hand. But when her pager went off and the next crisis came? He dreaded the day she got word of another disaster. She wasn’t nearly as far from danger in her job as he would like.

  He hung up with the district attorney and then started returning phone calls.

  He was hanging up the phone after his ninth call when he heard his assistant say in surprise, “Rachel. Hi.” It gave him time to turn toward the door just as Rae appeared.

  “I told…Marissa said…” She was crying in such deep sobs her breath was missing. His first thought as her grief sucked him in was that she’d been driving while she cried. He had to break her of that habit. Whoever had brought her a car when she was this tired hadn’t been thinking. Since his guest chair was stacked with books, he caught her hand and led her to sit on the credenza so he could mop her tears. “What did Marissa say?”

  “Everything okay in here—” Jack froze in the doorway.

  Cole met Jack’s gaze over Rachel’s bent head. “Go away.” Cole kicked the door closed.

  He wiped Rae’s tears. She was losing it. He tilted up her chin and held her gaze, awash in the depths of what she was feeling.

  “It could have been prevented.”

  “I know.”

  “Earlier. Greg talked to Mark’s mom. It’s linked somehow, Cole. Carol’s death and the blowup at the school. There is history there going back months.”

  He’d been expecting a wave of emotion from her, but this… “Oh, honey.” He pulled her onto his lap and held her tight as she sobbed, resting his chin against her hair. One person should only have to be asked to carry so much, and Rachel… “Shh, it’s going to be okay.”

  Her hands curled into his shirt. “Why, Cole? Why do kids have to be the victims?”

  He rubbed her back. “I don’t know, precious.” How he wished he did.

  Cole eased her to her feet. He picked up the keys he’d tossed beside his dying cactus. “Come on; I’ll take you home.”

  “I need to talk with Lisa and Marcus. I’m sorry I’m crying all over you.”

  “We will. And I don’t mind.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and opened the door. She had hit the wall, and the best hope he could offer was some desperately needed sleep. “Would you like to guess what Jack was doing this morning?”

  Rachel leaned against the door of her apartment after saying good-bye to Cole. Lord, thank You for sending me a man who understands the comfort found in a hug. She would have asked Cole to stay a while, but she desperately needed some sleep. She was turning to Cole in ways she’d never asked of someone other than family before, trusting him to take this explosive grief and carry her. Even with family she had tried not to lean too hard. With Cole she was dumping it all and hoping he could bear it. She loved him and trusted him even with her breaking heart.

  She loved him…

  The words were welling up from a place in her heart where dreams were born. For the first time she trusted someone with everything, and she was finding in Cole that the trust was well placed. It felt right.

  Lord, thank You.

  The peace in her thoughts lasted until she looked down and saw the faint remnant of blood on her shoes. She stepped out of them where she stood and left them there.

  Rachel went straight to bed, so tired it felt like a weight was pressing on every inch of her body. She buried herself between the pillows and closed her eyes. Instead of the relief of sleep, she felt a fierce tension build. She couldn’t shut off the images or the sounds. She could hear the school alarm blare and Kate scream her name. The harder Rachel tried to forget, the more the memories sped up—of Kate shoving her, of the agonizing images of an injured boy trying to pull himself to safety, and of the girl lying dead where she had fallen.

  Rachel stumbled out of the bed and went into the living room to curl up on the couch. She’d left the apartment Tuesday morning expecting a laughter-filled day with Jennifer and her sisters, and thirty hours later she couldn’t remember how to smile. She needed to sleep, but she was scared of what it would be like to dream.

  God, would You please take away this panic? Death came and it was unexpected and it was random and this time I witnessed it firsthand. She wiped at tears. I’m not even sure what it is I’m afraid of. I just can’t stop the memories.

  It helped knowing at this moment she wasn’t alone. In the last hours the only peace she’d been able to offer many of the students and their parents was that God was strong enough to handle this. She was doing her best to lean hard against that strength.

  She reached for the phone and placed a page. Please, Kate, be somewhere you can answer.

  The phone rang back in less than a minute.

  “Rae, what’s wrong?”

  She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

  Kate’s voice gentled. “That bad, huh?”

  “I’m trembling.”

  “I’ve had the shakes today too. Where are you?” Kate asked.

  “Home. Cole brought me about an hour ago.”

  “Want me to get him back for you? He can hold your hand until it passes.”

  “I don’t want him to worry about me any more than he already is.”

  “Guys are in our lives to worry about us.”

  Rachel hugged one of the couch pillows against her, her favorite huge lavender one that had a soft center. “Maybe if it doesn’t pass. Are you doing okay?” She hadn’t stopped long enough to do the follow-up with her family that was normally her role. Everyone had been there and was affected in various ways, but she didn’t know other than generally how they were doing today.

  “Dave brought me roses
and dinner late last night, and he gift wrapped a bulletproof vest for me.”

  Kate had the ability to get shot and a day later chuckle about getting a bulletproof vest as a gift. For Kate the school shooting was only one of many incidents she would deal with this month. Rachel was grateful Dave was there to help Kate in a way that best supported but didn’t limit her. “Dave’s good for you.”

  “Three weeks and the stitches will be gone. I’ll recover, Rae.”

  Rachel felt herself relaxing as Kate’s calmness became hers. “What did I interrupt?”

  “I’m at my desk looking at ballistics reports. Those .45s that were recovered at the school have a long history. At least this time they’ll be melted down.”

  “Thankfully. Have you talked to Jennifer today?”

  “I spoke to Tom at about noon. Jennifer is really worn out. He’s hoping she’ll sleep the majority of the next few days.”

  “Is she going to bounce back from this?”

  “She saved lives. She’s jazzed, Rae. More than I’ve seen since she had to quit seeing patients last year when the chemotherapy began. She’ll find a way to recover from the exhaustion.”

  Rachel leaned her head back against the couch cushions and looked toward the ceiling. “I hope so.”

  “Go to sleep, Rae. Think about Cole. There should be enough good memories to take the place of the tough ones.”

  She had some wonderful memories and was holding on tight to them. “Please tell me the shakes go away.”

  “They do. I promise you that.”

  “I hope you get a boring day stuck at your desk.”

  “I appreciate the wish. I’ll talk to you later, Rae.”

  Rachel said good-bye to her sister. She had hoped to avoid this backlash of emotions until after the funerals were past. She was going through her own decompression at the same time the kids were. When they described having been in the parking lot when the shooting was going on, she heard and saw those same memories. She had to stop this reaction. She had so much she needed to do in the hours ahead.

  She took a deep breath and hugged the pillow against her chest. God, life is so hard. She had to see Jennifer. Rachel knew how rough this crisis had been on her sister’s health, and yet Rachel had never been so relieved to have someone with her. Jennifer and Lisa had saved lives.