Breathe (46 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #adult, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Mystery

BOOK: Breathe
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Sondra caught up, didn’t seem to notice Karena at all and lifted a bag toward Chace. Chace also didn’t get a chance to look at it before she dropped it and started talking.

“PJs,” she announced. “Warm ones. You think they’d let him put them on?” she asked then didn’t wait for an answer and turned to Karena who she hadn’t yet met and informed her, “Those hospital blankets are thin. He needs warm jammies.” Then her head jerked this way and that, caught on something and she moved quickly away, muttering, “There’s the nurse. I’ll ask her.”

“I need a plug,” Silas said at this point. “Gotta charge this puppy up.”

Then he took off.

Chace watched as Silas moved away, his head down, his eyes obviously scanning for an outlet. Then Chace saw Sondra standing with an African American woman who was not a nurse, but Malachi’s doctor. She was wearing scrubs, her long, glossy black hair pulled back in a thick ponytail and both of them were looking at a pair of navy blue, flannel, little boys pajama bottoms with airplanes printed on them, smiling.

Chace looked back at Karena.

“I’ll fast-track it,” she mumbled, her lips twitching and she moved away, hand in her purse to pull out her phone.

It was Sunday and Karena Papadakis, a woman he’d worked with more than once, had taken his call and left her family to meet with him at the hospital.

Now she was making more calls to colleagues who also probably didn’t work on Sunday.

Chace grinned at her back as she walked away.

Then he moved toward Silas to help him find a plug.

* * * * *

“I’m sorry, Detective Keaton, this is awkward but I’ve asked you here because unfortunately we have to have this conversation,” the hospital administrator started. “Now that that boy is past urgent care, as he doesn’t have insurance, we need to discuss –”

“Don’t worry about the hospital bills,” Chace interrupted her. “I’ll be responsible for them. If there’s a specialist that can confer with Dr. Hughes who can assist in saving his hands and foot, please advise her that she has the go ahead to seek assistance with his case.”

The administrator blinked then rallied to inform him, “Dr. Hughes is an exceptional pediatric critical care doctor. We’re lucky to have her.”

Chace held her gaze, nodded and replied, “Glad to hear that. But if there’s more that can be done for him, I want it done. Even if he has to be transferred to another hospital.”

Quickly, she gave him information he didn’t give a fuck about, “We’re a fully-equipped Level II Trauma Center. The only one in the mountains outside Loveland and Grand Junction.”

“He’s beyond trauma care,” Chace reminded her.

“We’re an excellent facility,” she pressed.

“I believe you. I still want everything that can be done for Malachi done,” Chace returned.

“It’s my understanding the boy cleaned the wounds and treated them. Gangrene didn’t set in. He may lose some mobility but the threat of him losing them entirely is over.”

“Ma’am,” Chace leaned slightly toward her, “for an indeterminate amount of time, that boy has been livin’ in a shed in the woods by himself with no light, no heat and the toilet he used was a hole he dug himself in the corner. He does not need to endure that only to endure learnin’ to live without a limb or, possibly, losin’ some use of a limb. I get you got pride in your hospital. What you need to get is that I got the funds to see to it that boy gets the best care he can get. So I’m askin’ you to help me get him that. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to do it myself. Now, please, talk to Dr. Hughes and save that kid’s hands and foot.”

She held his gaze and whispered, “I’ll speak with Dr. Hughes.”

“Obliged,” Chace replied.

She got his point loud and clear and he knew this when she reached directly for her phone.

Chace gave her a nod, got out of the chair he was sitting in opposite her at her desk and walked out of her office. As he did, his phone rang.

He pulled it out, looked at the display and took the call.

“Keaton.”

“Blood’s a dead end, brother,” Deck said in his ear.

Deck had called earlier informing Chace he’d be with the officers who combed the woods that morning. Now, he sounded like he was in his truck.

“Nothing?” Chace asked.

“Few drops like they said, leadin’ northeast. Then they disappeared. Maybe he saw them and covered them. Don’t know. Just know there’s nothin’.”

“Tracks?”

“None of those either,” Deck replied. “Wind, snowmelt and settling, even efforts to cover them disappeared. The only thing we found is a trail leadin’ to the north side of town, goin’ in at the Carnal Hotel end and another leadin’ toward the library. Both sets, deep, back and forth, packed. But, you didn’t know he was out there, could be anyone’s since there were so many of them, packed in the snow with snowmelt wiping out individual prints so now it’s just a trough in the snow. But when he got close to the shed, he started to erase them. Smart kid. Didn’t know the trajectory, didn’t know the shed existed, which probably no one knew, by the time he made the effort to get rid of his trail, it could lead anywhere. No one would know where he was heading.”

Chace stopped at the elevator but stood to the side and didn’t tag a button.

“Your take?” he asked quietly and Deck answered immediately, knowing what Chace was asking.

“No fuckin’ clue. Cops say in those hills there are two housing developments, one upscale, one middle income and a bunch of older, individual residences not contained in a development. Beyond that, mountain’s too steep to build homes. Even so, cops say, and I could see for myself, it’d be near on impossible for him to climb up to any of those residences. Slope of the hill gives way to sheer rock face. I’m gonna grab some lunch then go back and look around more, see if there’s some opening where he could climb. If there is, see what it leads to and if he didn’t bother to cover those tracks. It was me, I was nine and someone was beatin’ the shit outta me, I’d be gone. I wouldn’t stay close. But for whatever reason, he went back for more. None of his prints, no one else’s either. No one found him at his shed and did that shit to him then left him there. So, I had to go with my gut, he was stickin’ close for a purpose. What that is, no fuckin’ clue.”

“Siblings,” Chace whispered.

“Say again?” Deck asked.

“Could see him getting beat because someone caught him stealing food or just plain stealing. That’d be jacked but the town is known to have a few mountain families who take care of their own business in an old world way. Those families live outside town, in the hills or up deep in the mountains. It’d be a surprise but I could see it happening. But Malachi is a smart kid, he’d learn not to get caught again and Faye says she’s seen him on numerous occasions with visible evidence of abuse. Personally, I’ve seen it twice. So that’s not it. Also could be he went back to someplace familiar to get food or clothes, got caught, got beat. Or it could be he went back to check on something he cared about, a brother, a sister, got caught, got beat. He wasn’t hiding that shed just from the general population of Carnal. He was hiding his tracks down from wherever he came. He was hiding from whoever’s at home. He’s hiding from everyone.”

“You need to get your boys to run the occupants of those residences,” Deck muttered.

“Yeah but I already checked Colorado Vital Records, Deck, kid doesn’t exist. Not local. Not in the entire state.”

Deck was silent.

Then he said out loud what Chace was thinking.

“This is dark brother.”

“Nope,” Chace returned, “black.”

“Pitch,” Deck whispered and Chace knew Deck was thinking what he was thinking.

Two scenarios.

One, serious hill country, jacked shit where a family existed somewhere in those hills, had minimal contact with the real world and this included procreating and not birthing their babies in a hospital that had records or sending their kids to school.

Two, Malachi and possibly one or more blood or practical siblings had been taken from their real families and were being raised on the quiet by some seriously hill country, jacked person or people who hid them from the real world for nefarious reasons and in order not to be exposed.

Chace had been in that town for thirteen years. Even if there was someone in the hills that lived quiet and eschewed society, they had to mix in some ways. If this escaped his notice, Frank had grown up in that town. He would know about them, he would talk about them, they’d be on cop radar or there would be talk in town. Chace could see people in Carnal letting folks live their life as they saw fit even if they didn’t agree or thought it was whacked. Half the residents were multi-generation hardcore bikers who had been attracted to that town pre-Arnold Fuller as a haven for those who sat a Harley and lived that way of life. So they appreciated this considering they’d chosen a way of life that wasn’t exactly mainstream. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t talk.

This left option two. Malachi had been snatched by someone not right in the head. This meant he could have come from anywhere. This meant he could have a family out there looking for him.

“I’ll eat, go back, comb those woods,” Deck offered, breaking into his thoughts.

“I’ll call the Station,” Chace replied.

Deck hesitated before he asked quietly, “How’s he doin’?”

“Hasn’t regained consciousness and they’re a little concerned because he should have by now. Even so, Faye’s been readin’ to him almost all day. Got her out twice to get a cup of coffee in her and so she could eat some food when her sister came by with lunch she made. Her Mom took over while she was gone. She’s back in.”

“What’re the doctors sayin’?”

“Can’t say, he’s not awake, not movin’. The update though is that the scare is over about him losin’ his hands and foot. Mobility is in question. Color’s better though.”

“Right.”

“I’ll let you know, anything happens.”

“’Preciate that.”

“Get lunch, Deck. Speak soon.”

“Later, man.”

“Later.”

Chace disconnected and shoved the phone in his pocket.

Then he tagged the elevator button to go up and check on Faye and Malachi.

* * * * *

It was time to go, visiting hours were over, the nurse told him. He appreciated her telling him so it would be him that would be the one to go in and tell Faye she had to give it up for the night.

He washed his hands and moved through the ward to the open door, hearing her voice coming soft. She didn’t read staccato, she put emotion into it like a true storyteller, or as best as she could while needing to be quiet in that ward.

He entered Malachi’s room on the thought that someday she’d read to their kids that way.

Therefore, he had a small smile on his face when he saw Sondra first, sitting in the corner and her eyes snapped to him as she raised her index finger and put it to her lips.

With this warning, Chace rounded the closed curtain slowly, silently and stopped dead.

This was because Faye was sitting by the bed, bent over her book, focus entirely on it but her arm was stretched out and she had her fingers curled around Malachi’s forearm.

And Malachi’s light brown eyes were open, his head slightly turned on the pillow and his focus was entirely on Faye reading to him.

But even with the bruising on his face, it was plain to see he thought God had sent an angel to his bedside to tell him a story.

Chace felt his throat close and held perfectly still.

Then Malachi’s eyes shifted to him and his entire body got visibly tight.

“Faye,” Chace called gently, she stopped reading and her head came up.

But as she began to turn her head to look at him, she saw Malachi.

He saw in profile as her face got soft and her lips parted right before she whispered, “Malachi.”

His eyes shifted to her with barely a movement of his head.

She rose to a squat above her chair. Leaning in partially she kept her voice at a whisper when she said, “Hey there, honey. You sure took a long nap. We were getting worried. Welcome back.”

He just looked at her.

“I’m Faye,” she told him. “But you know me, don’t you?”

He didn’t say a word or move his eyes from her.

Faye kept going.

“That’s Chace, I told you about him. Chace Keaton. He works at the Police Station. He’s a detective. He bought you your Swiss army knife and your sleeping bag and some of your food. Remember?”

Malachi didn’t move or speak.

Faye didn’t give up.

“Over there, that’s my Mom. Her name is Sondra Goodknight. She brought you some warm pajamas that they said when they move you out of here, you can wear.”

Malachi kept looking at Faye a second then his head turned on the pillow for a glance at Sondra before he looked back at Faye.

Sondra got up, got close to the bed, Malachi’s eyes moved back to her and she reached out two fingers to touch the blanket by his side but not him.

“Nice to meet you, Malachi,” she said gently. “Now, I’m going to go get the nurse. They need to know you’re awake. All right?”

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