Mustard on Top (31 page)

The police told him to wait where he was, but Ben couldn’t stand around. After hanging up, he found Helen’s phone book. There was no listing for Seth. An Internet search netted no address or phone number. The minutes dragged, and Ben weighed his options. The police would know where the ex-actor lived. He ought to wait.

Ben searched the house again. This time more thoroughly. He found no evidence Helen had returned home and no clues as to where she might be. Ben reminded himself her car was gone. Maybe she’d come home, seen the house, and left. Once Helen was safe, Ben was getting her a cell phone, no matter how much she objected.

He ran to Agatha’s and pounded on her door. A few minutes later Moe opened it. They hadn’t heard from Helen either. Ben sprinted down the block searching the shadows. He’d reached the corner when a police car drove by, so he jogged back. A pasty-white cop introduced himself as Officer Benson.

Ben talked nonstop as the officer pulled his notepad from his pocket. Another cop came and stood next to the first.

“Spell your name for me,” Officer Benson said.

“Oh jeez.” Ben didn’t have time for formalities.

“Your name, sir.”

The next minutes were agonizing. The officers seemed more interested in him, and his relationship with Helen, rather than Helen’s disappearance. Ben thought his head would explode. Because his legal address was in Chicago and not Helen’s home, they refused to investigate the vandalism. They informed him that Helen, the resident homeowner, was the only one who could open an investigation.

If Ben had been thinking, he would have predicted that. Exasperated, he spread his arms wide. “Helen Ableman is missing and that idiot who put those flowers in her house has something to do with it.”

Officer Benson snapped his pad closed. “She’s been missing for a few hours. Call us when she’s been gone twenty-four.”

“It’s a gut feeling, officers,” Ben implored.

“Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time these things sort themselves out. If you still haven’t heard from her by tomorrow night, call back.”

Bewildered, Ben called Theo and went into voice mail. Seeing no other options, Ben got in his Bimmer and drove in the direction Helen would likely have taken. He turned on a residential street, less than two blocks from her house, and spotted a human-sized lump laying the center of the road. His heart slammed in his chest.

Ben parked the car, got out, and ran. The human form took shape, and he didn’t need to see the dark hair, matted with rainwater, the familiar jacket, or the jeans to know, the person lying face down was Helen. He drew near, one of her legs was bent at an awkward angle, and even in the dim light and on the black pavement, he could see a river of blood flowing from her body.

Ben pulled his phone from his pocket, dialed 9-1-1, dropped to his knees, and waited for the police to answer. He brushed Helen’s hair off her face, and lowered his face to her cheek, pressing his lips to her skin. She was cool and firm like a peeled, hard-boiled egg straight out of the refrigerator.

“You’re going to be okay.” Ben’s voice shook as he pressed the tips of his fingers to her neck searching for a pulse. The tiniest of blips greeted him.

A dispatcher answered the phone. Ben scanned the street, Helen’s car was parked halfway across someone’s lawn. A few porch lights tossed swaths of light in front of houses, otherwise the street was dark.

Ben answered the dispatcher’s questions, while he placed his coat over Helen. He could make her injuries worse by moving her, so he lay beside her cradling her for warmth. He hugged her and silently cheered as her chest move with her every breath. He cooed encouraging words.

Within a few minutes, Officer Benson and his partner arrived along with an ambulance. Ben lay next to Helen until the paramedics were ready to put her on a gurney.

“Be careful,” he said getting up. The suit he’d worn was soaked through, and he watched as they immobilized her neck and leg then moved her onto a body board. Ben followed them as they carried her back to the ambulance. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We hope so,” the short, blond, female paramedic said. “You a relative?”

Ben paused. “Her boyfriend.”

“You want to come along and help us identify her?” They slid Helen into the back of the ambulance.

“Yes.”

“Hop in then.”

****

Once Ben informed the doctors Helen was diabetic, they diagnosed her with insulin shock. She remained unconscious, while they treated her through an IV and X-rayed her leg. An eight-inch chunk of both the tibia and fibula bones had been crushed.

The doctor explained that Helen was lucky her femoral artery hadn’t been severed and that the hospital had called in a specialist to perform emergency surgery on her leg. Before that could happen, they needed to raise her blood sugar.

Within an hour, Helen regained consciousness. She moaned and writhed in pain until the doctor prescribed a pain-killer that knocked her out. She stayed that way until the surgeon arrived.

While they’d allowed Ben to stay with her in the emergency room and through the X-rays, they banned him from the operating room. With a heavy heart, he entered the mute, latte-colored waiting room. Another man, slumped in a chair, slept while a teen-aged boy sat watching TV. A monitor hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room listed each patient and their current state of surgery.

Helen’s name showing on the monitor, gave Ben a sense of comfort. Nothing on television at 4:21 a.m. held his attention, so Ben leafed through tattered magazines. Time played tricks on him. His time with Theo had flown by in the blink of an eye, now time was being cruel, with minutes feeling like hours. Ben ached to talk with Theo, but had already left him two messages.

He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Beneath the haze, his thoughts bubbled and growled. At 7:46 a.m. Helen’s status on the monitor changed from a red
In Surgery
to a green
In Recovery.
The tension squeezing Ben’s heart loosened and he took a deep breath

He’d been told that until she left recovery, he couldn’t visit. After surgery, however, the surgeon would come out and talk to him. Ben stared at the entrance to the waiting room and fidgeted until a petite woman in khaki-green scrubs entered the waiting room.

“Ben Smiley?”

Ben crossed the room. “I’m Ben Smiley.” He offered his hand and they shook.

“I’m Dr. Abeti.”

The woman was too young and simply too small to be a doctor, but Ben had been told she was one of the best. “How’s Helen?”

“I understand you came in with her?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?” Her intelligent eyes were appraising him.

“I don’t know. I found her in the street.” Ben’s voice cracked from the emotion of picturing her lying in a heap. “I’m guessing she was run over by a car.” His throat constricted, and Ben couldn’t say more.

“Hmm.” Dr. Abeti’s features softened. “Her tibia and fibula bones were crushed. Pieces of the bone were ground into the surrounding tissue. The tendons and muscles have been shredded. All I could do today was clean the area out and try to stabilize it. Six inches of both bones had to be extracted.”

Lightheaded and nauseous, Ben leaned on a nearby chair back.

“Do you need to sit?” Dr. Abeti asked.

“No. Go on.”

“I’ll be brief. With her diabetic condition, her chances of a full recovery are compromised. She needs to be diligent with her insulin and to eat healthier.”

Ben nodded.

“She’ll need at minimum two more surgeries if she hopes to walk again. She’ll be in a lot of pain, and it’ll take rehabilitation. Iven with that there’s no guarantee she’ll heal properly. A lot will depend on her motivation and dedication.”

“I understand.”

“I like to prepare people.” The doctor nodded then said, “I am sorry. The accident was unfortunate.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Ben felt as if he were wandering around in a nightmare. “When will she be moved from recovery?”

“An hour or two. It varies by the individual.”

Back to waiting. At least morning had descended, and he had a receptionist to pester. Exhaustion bore down on him, and Ben slumped in a chair. He made calls to Theo and Emma’s parents. Neither answered. Cupping his chin in one hand, Ben let his gaze skim the room. Then his eyes drifted closed, and he fell asleep.

Ben woke with a start when someone shook his shoulder.

“Sorry. You’re Ben Smiley?”

“Yes.” Ben sat up. A woman wearing scrubs covered in tiny red hearts stood before him.

“Helen Ableman’s been asking for you.”

“She has?” Ben shot out of his chair.

“Can I take you to her?”

“Let’s go.”

The woman led him to room 342 then stepped away as Ben entered. Helen looked pale, nearly translucent, under the harsh lights. An IV dangled off a pole and fed into her arm. Her leg was in a cast and attached to a contraption that hung from the ceiling. When she looked up, a smile lit her face and Ben wondered how she could be cheerful.

“You’re okay,” she said.

“I’m okay?” Ben almost laughed at the absurd statement. He moved into the room, and sat in the chair next to her bed then reached for her hand.

“I was worried…” Her voice trailed off.

“About what?”

“Seth. I thought… I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Seth did this to you?” Barely contained rage bubbled beneath his calm demeanor.

Helen responded slowly, blinking her eyes with exaggeration. “I’m loopy from the drugs and my leg hurts like the dickens, but at least I’m alive. How was Chicago?”

“What did Seth do?”

Helen closed her eyes. “Not now. I’m tired, Ben.”

He didn’t want to grill her; she’d just lived through hell, but he needed to know. “Chicago was busy. I’m glad to be back.”

She squeezed his hand in response. Ben wondered if she realized the extent of the damage to her leg and if not, who should tell her. “I’ll never let Seth hurt you again,” Ben said.

Helen sucked in a deep breath and on the exhalation said, “Don’t start fighting with him like a bull elk. I don’t think Seth intended to hurt me.”

Ben bit back a retort. He didn’t want to argue with her, but disagreed about Seth’s innocence.

“This was mostly my fault. I didn’t manage my diabetes well.” She laughed, while frowning. “Theo was right I guess. I apparently need a keeper.”

“It wasn’t all your fault Helen.”

“Does Theo know about this?” She gestured toward her leg.

“Not yet.”

“Please don’t tell him about the insulin shock, he may not go to college.”

“Helen.” Ben’s voice dropped an octave. He disagreed with her decision.

“I know.” With her free hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose and asked, “Did you get everything done in Chicago or do you need to go back?”

“I need to go back.”

“Don’t tell Theo that. I don’t want him to delay college over this. I’ll be fine.”

Ben’s wanted to protest, he didn’t want to lie more to Theo. “Have they told you about your leg?” he asked.

“My crushed bones? A year in a wheelchair unless it’s the rest of my life?”

Ben tried to smile at her nonchalance and failed.

“No. They haven’t.”

“You’re taking it well.”

“My leg will be crushed whether I complain or not. Besides I’ve got good drugs.” Helen winked, seeming is if she felt no pain.

“That’s true.”

“I’ll walk again, don’t you worry. Honestly, I’m lucky to be alive at all. But enough about me.”

“You never did like being the center of attention.”

“What happened that made you so late to Theo’s party? Nothing bad I hope.”

That seemed like a lifetime ago. “I was supposed to meet with the attorneys I’m handing my cases over to, but I ended up in a meeting with all the partners.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“They offered me a partnership.”

“Partner? Isn’t that a big deal?”

Although he’d turned the offer down, their asking had meant a lot. Ben smiled at the memory.

“Mom.”

Ben’s gaze swiveled to Theo as he walked in the room. Helen pulled her hand from Ben’s and reached for Theo. Theo veered around her leg then leaned in for a hug. The look of affection and concern on Theo’s face caused Ben’s eyes to mist over.

“Hey Sweetie,” Helen said.

“What happened to your leg?” Worry lines etched Theo’s face made him appear older than his eighteen years.

“Oh this. A little break. I’ll be fine. Did you enjoy your party?”

“Dad left messages on my phone saying he couldn’t find you last night. What happened?”

“Call me from Emerson College tomorrow and I’ll we’ll talk. Right now I’m kind of tired.” Helen closed her eyes.

“But—”

Helen held up a hand. “Not now. I want you to go home and pack like you planned.”

“The pain killers she’s on would knock out a horse,” Ben said in collusion. “Maybe we should let her sleep?”

Finally, Theo acknowledged Ben. “What’s up, Dad?”

Ben stood and they slapped into a fierce handshake. “Are you okay?” Ben asked.

“Better than Mom. So what happened?”

“How about we talk while you’re packing. I can help get all that stuff your mom bought for your dorm packed in your car.”

“Does this have anything to do with Seth?” Theo asked.

“Why would you ask that?” Ben wanted to know.

“He’s been all over the news. He died in a car accident early this morning.”

“What? What happened?” Ben asked.

Theo shrugged. “I guess the police went to his house to question him about something. They were knocking on his front door when his garage opened, and Seth tore out of the place in his Jaguar.”

“And?”

“It turned into a high-speed car chase that lasted an hour. There were seven different cop cars from two counties. Seth lost control of his car, hit a median, and flipped.”

“Was anybody else hurt?”

“No. It was a single car accident.”