Submerged (8 page)

Chapter
Eight

Edmonton, AB – Friday, June 14, 2013 – 8:24 AM

Friday morning, Rebecca dropped the kids off at school. They were hyped up on thoughts of their trip to Auntie Kelly's and already fighting over what they'd be doing. All Colton wanted to do was go swimming in the pool, while Ella wanted to pick wildflowers and play with the "Trips," as everyone called the triplets.

Rebecca
let out a happy sigh. "Vacation, here I come!"

She
'd taken the day off to get ready for the trip. She planned to drop the kids off at Kelly and Steve's after dinner and pick them up Monday afternoon. Then she'd have three nights in a B&B in Cadomin and two full days of relaxation.

The
thought of leaving the kids made her stomach churn, but she pushed aside her fear. Her sister and brother-in-law could handle anything that came up. Besides, she really needed some alone time.

She glanced down at the checklist in her lap.
Snacks for the drive. Coloring book and crayons for Ella. Gas for car. Laundry. Pack the kids' bags. Clean kitchen and house. Charge cell phones (pack charger). House key to Heidi next door, in case of emergency. Water the plants.

She drove to the Save-On and picked up
two bags of salt-and-vinegar chips, and two bottles each of green iced tea and cola. The drive to Cadomin was long, and she'd need the distractions of snacks.

Next, she stopped off at Wal-Mart
and picked out a Sleeping Beauty coloring book and a large box of glitter crayons. They would keep Ella well occupied and out of Kelly's hair, especially while the Trips were napping. It would help keep her calm too—less chance of an asthma attack.

Rebecca
gasped, then scribbled
PUFF!
on her list. How could she forget?

T
he last time they'd driven a long distance and forgotten Puff, it had almost ended in tragedy. Since Wesley refused to go, she'd driven to Calgary with the kids to see her father, who was in the hospital, recuperating from a triple bypass. The surgery hadn't gone well. The doctor stated that there were a multitude of complications. For a while it looked like her father might not make it. That thought had eaten at Rebecca for days. She and her father had unresolved issues. Being an adult child of divorce didn't make it hurt any less.

The drive back from Calgary had started off uneventful. They were about forty minutes away when Ella started coughing in the back sea
t.

"
Can you take care of it, Colton?"

Like usual, her son balked at the extra responsibility
. "Ella knows what to do, Mom."

"
Help her."

With an exaggerat
ed sigh, Colton dug around in Ella's backpack. "Puff's not here, Mom."

"
What do you mean, Puff's not there?"

Colton dumped the contents of the bag on the seat.

"Mommy, I can't breathe," Ella cried.

Rebecca
's heart raced as she signaled to pull off the busy highway. "Try to take a slow, deep breath."

The coughing
from the back seat grew hoarse. Then the wheezing started.

"
Mom?" Colton said, his voice scared. "It's not in her bag."

Rebecca
eased onto the shoulder, parked the car and jumped out. When she opened the back door, she nearly fainted at the sight of Ella's gray face and hollow eyes.

"
Oh, Jesus." She shoved aside the assortment of barrettes and markers from Ella's open backpack. Then she checked the floor of the car. Nothing.

Ella gasped.
"I…can't…breathe."

Rebecca ripped off her daughter
's seat belt and gathered her in her arms.

"
Found it!" Colton shouted. He held up the inhaler.

"
Thank God." Rebecca released a panicked breath.

Minutes later, Ella
's asthma attack receded, and the color returned to her cheeks. "I was sitting on Puff," she said, oblivious to Rebecca's fear.

Rebecca
had kept her eye on Ella all the way home. It had been a long drive.

"
We don't want a repeat of that," she muttered now as she took a detour to the pharmacy.

Get refill of Puff,
she mentally added to her list.

A half hour later, w
ith the extra inhaler safely tucked in the glove compartment of the car, Rebecca drove home and unpacked the travel supplies. She threw a load of laundry into the washing machine. In Ella's room, she stacked folded socks and underwear on the Barbie comforter. Ella would want to pick out her own outfits.

Rebecca
meandered down to the basement. It was her least favorite place in the old home, and she made a point of avoiding it when she could. With its stale air and unfinished walls and ceiling, the dingy basement was the catch-all for everything they couldn't fit elsewhere.

She wove through the piles of boxes and bins until she found the luggage set her mother had given her when she
'd married Wes. Had this been her mother's subtle way of saying Rebecca's marriage wouldn't last?

She heaved the luggage
up the stairs, then inhaled deeply. "I want a new house. With a finished basement."

Wesley always said she was a dreamer.

The phone rang, and she picked it up. "Hello?"

"
I'm glad I caught you," Kelly said, panting as if she'd run a marathon.

Rebecca
's heart sank. "Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

"
Measles."

"
Which one?"

"
All of them. The Trips."

"
Oh God, Kelly."

Her sister tried to laugh.
"I know. It doesn't rain here. It pours."

Rebecca
glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. "I have to pick up the kids soon."

"
That's why I'm calling. I really hate to do this, but with three kids with the measles―"

"
Kel, don't worry about it. I wouldn't expect you to take Ella and Colton now. Besides, Ella hasn't had the measles."

"
I remembered that. That's why I wanted you to know." Kelly paused. "So what'll you do? Mom can't take them. She's in Yuma."

Rebecca groaned.
"I'll think of something."

"
I'm so sorry, Sis."

"
No worries. If worse comes to worst, I'll take them with me."

She sure as hell wasn
't leaving them with Wesley.

"
That's what I thought you might do," Kelly said. "I know Wesley is a no-go."

Kelly always could read her mind. They might as well have been
twins for the connection they shared.

"
You worry about the Trips," Rebecca said. "I'll have no problems adjusting my plans. The hotel can always add a cot."

Kelly snickered.
"I guess it's a good thing you weren't planning a romantic getaway with a handsome stranger."

"
Yeah, I guess."

The thought made Rebecca
sad. She missed having someone to snuggle up to at night. She missed having someone to talk to, share her day with. Sure, she had the kids, but it wasn't the same.

"
One day a handsome stranger will sweep you off your feet," Kelly said.

Rebecca laughed.
"I see you're still living in fantasy land."

"
Always, Sis. Fantasies make the world go 'round."

After
they hung up, Rebecca stared at the small bag of snacks she'd purchased. She'd need a few more if Ella and Colton were coming with her.

On the way to her bedroom, she
passed the hallway mirror. Pausing, she stared into it and thought about her sister's words.

If a handsome stranger were
going to make an appearance, she hoped to God it was on a day when she'd had time to shower and brush her hair.

Today wasn
't that day.

After a late lunch, she finished the laundry. Then she went to work on packing clothes for the trip, including a sleek black dress she hadn't worn in over a year.

"
In case I meet that handsome stranger," she murmured.

This made her laugh. She was going to Cadomin, a town so small that if you blinked you
'd drive right past it. "Yeah. What are the odds?"

Catching sight of her cell phone charger
on the nightstand, she unplugged it from the wall.
Suitcase or purse?
With a shrug, she tossed it in the suitcase. Her phone had more than enough battery power to last the trip. Anyway, she had a car charger in the glove compartment, though she'd never used it.

She headed downstairs and spent the next half
hour preparing snacks for the road. She'd have the kids pack them in their backpacks, and she'd keep a small cooler up front.

"
Ah, water bottles."

They usually kept
a case of bottled water in the refrigerator in the garage, but when she opened the fridge door, she found the plastic and cardboard wrapping for the case and no water.

"
Great."

She glanced at her watch. It was time to pick up the kids. She
'd stop at the store on the way home, all the while dreaming of the perfect vacation—the peace, the freedom, no stress.

By six o'clock that evening all hell had broken loose. Ella had dissolved into temper-tantrum mode because she couldn't bring her bike on the trip, and Colton was busy in his room sulking because he had to finish all his homework before they left.

"
I don't get why I can't do it there," he yelled down the stairs.

Because we both know you
'll get distracted as soon as you step out of the car.
"Colton, just get it done, please."

Her patience was wearing thin. She released a
sigh of frustration. This wasn't how she wanted to start their weekend getaway.

Chapter
Nine

Edson, AB – Friday, June 14, 2013 – 2:05 PM

"Looks like today's going to be a slow one," Marcus said.

Leo hovered over his shoulder.
"Slow is always good in our line of work."

"
Yeah, it is." Marcus sighed.

It was days like this that made him yearn for the adrenaline rush of the old days. When he was a paramedic, he never knew what to expect. Every call was different. Different people, places, conditions, traumas. As soon as the alert would sound, his entire body would speed into overdrive.

Leo handed him a mug of coffee.

"
Thanks."

"
Don't thank me yet, Marcus."

"
Why not?"

"
It's decaf."

"
You trying to kill me?"

"
I was thinking that you drink too much coffee. Maybe that's why you aren't sleeping."

I
'm not sleeping because when I try, I see Jane and Ryan.

"
I get enough."

Leo snorted.
"You don't get enough. Of
anything
."

"
Please don't start."

Leo shrugged.
"I'm worried about you, man." He paused and shuffled his feet. "Val wants you to come to dinner on Sunday."

"
She does, does she? Who else is coming?"

Leo
's face reddened. "Who said anyone else was coming? Why can't it simply be the three of us enjoying a good meal together? We're all friends."

Marcus cocked his head to one side.
"Uh-huh…"

"
Jesus, Marcus, you're always so…untrusting."

Marcus said nothing, his gaze locked on Leo
's.

Leo let out a huff.
"Okay, fine. Val invited one of her girlfriends from work. Marcy. She's smart and very attractive."

"
Leo, my good friend, you've gotta stop trying to hook me up."

"
It wasn't me. It was—"

"
Val?" Marcus finished. "So it's all Val's fault, huh?" He picked up the phone.

"
What are you doing?"

"
I'm calling your wife. It's time I set her straight on my love life."

"
What love life?"

Marcus scowled.
"The one I'm supposed to be in control of."

Leo leaned forward and disconnected the call.
"Okay, it was my idea. Not Val's." He sighed as if the whole world were on his rugged shoulders.

"
I knew that." Marcus grinned.

"
Shipley's heading your way," Carol called out as she passed them.

"
Lucky me," Marcus muttered.

Leo ducked down behind the partition.

"Coward."

"
I doubt he's coming to talk to me," came Leo's muffled reply.

Seconds later, Pete Shipley appeared.
"You messed up on yesterday's reports, Taylor."

"
Great. What did I forget this time? To dot the i's?"

Shipley slapped the papers on Marcus
's desk. "The dates are wrong."

Marcus glanced at the top report
, taking in the dateline. It should have read
June 13th
. Instead it read
12th
.
What the hell?

He picked up the paper and held it closer.
The
1
was darker than the
2
and it slanted to the right. He tended to write his numbers vertically. Someone had deliberately sabotaged the form. And there was only one person motivated to do something that vindictive.

He gave Shipley a bland look.
"Wite-Out will take care of this."

Shipley shook his head.
"I'd like you to retype the forms."

The man was looking for a fight. He
'd do anything to goad
Marcus into making a move that would land him in jail.

Marcus smiled.
"Sure. No problem."

Shipley
's face flickered, shifting from arrogance to confusion, then back to arrogance. "This is going in your file. Too many mistakes like this and we may think you're not doing your job effectively enough to satisfy your rehab agreement."

We?
Had Shipley just cloned himself?

"
Who else have you mentioned my
mistake
to, Pete?"

"
The powers that be have asked me to report in to them. They take your rehabilitation very seriously."

"
As do I."

They locked eyes again. Shipley was the first to back down.

"Get to work, Taylor." Shipley looked at the partition. "And Leo, enough socializing with our addict here. Do what we pay you to. Work." He marched off in the direction of his office, puffing and primping along the way.

Leo
's head appeared above the partition. "What a pompous peacock."

Marcus chuckled.
"You have a way with words, Leo."

"
Maybe that should be his nickname. Pompous Peacock."

"
Nah. Titanic suits him better. He's heading for disaster and doesn't even know it."

"
Yeah, and one day he's gonna go down with his ship."

The afternoon passed uneventfully after that. Marcus retyped the reports. When he handed them in to Shipley, he said, "I've decided to make copies of my reports. In case we have another issue with the dates."

Shipley squirmed in his chair, his face slightly pink.

Marcus's message was clear. He wouldn't put up with sabotage.

The guilt-ridden part of him knew he deserved Shipley
's disdain. But hell, he was clean now. He worked hard, ate well and did everything to prevent that other Marcus from showing up.

Except you still have that box.

Why the hell was he still holding on to it?

Because it
's a reminder of everything you've lost.

Jane had given him the wooden box with the medical insignia on it when he
'd been hired by EMS. She hadn't thought about what he'd store inside it. He supposed she figured he'd use it for his cufflinks, watch and his father's ring. It had started off that way. He'd even kept his passport inside.

Until he started using drugs and needed a place to hide them.

The box had been a safe place. After all, why would Jane need to look at his few pieces of jewelry?

Stupid.

He recalled the night he'd come home after work and found Jane sitting at the dining room table, the open box in front of her. Her eyes were swollen. She'd been crying.

"
Jane, what are you doing?"

"
That's what I was going to ask."

He approached with slow steps, his mind churning over all the lies he could t
ell her. His stomach churned with each step closer.

"
Marcus?" She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. "Why are there drugs in this box?"

He leaned over and closed the li
d. He shut his eyes, ignoring the magnetic pull of his old friend. "Don't worry about it, hon."

"
Are you doing drugs?"

His eyes flared open.
"Why would you ask me that? Am I not providing for you, working hard, taking care of everything?"

"
Of course you are, but—"

"
But what? You've got nothing better to do than snoop through my things?"

"
I wasn't snooping."

"
No? Then why in hell were you looking in this?" He waved the box at her.

"
I was going to surprise you on our anniversary."

He snorted.
"Surprise me?"

She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes.
"I was going to get your father's ring sized. So you can wear it."

He clenched his teeth, fighting back the rising anger. He wasn
't simply pissed off at Jane. He was mad at his father for giving him a ring that didn't fit. At himself for lying to Jane. At the drugs for making him so weak.

"
You didn't answer my question," she said in a subdued tone.

"
What question?"

She stared into h
is soul. "Are you doing drugs?"

"
Only to manage my back pain. It's no big deal." He snatched his hand away. "I know what I'm doing."

"
Do you? There's no prescription label on the bottle. Where did you get it?"

"
From work. We don't need prescriptions—merely someone to okay it."

She gave him a doubtful look.

"Look, I'll stop taking anything except ibuprofen. I promise."

"
So you'll get rid of this?"

He took a deep breath and prepared for his biggest lie.
"I'm not an addict, Jane. I don't need this. It was a quick fix. A
temporary
fix."

He walked over to the kitchen, opened the cupboard beneath the sink and tossed the box in the garbage can.
"See? Gone."

Jane stood and made a beeline for him, her hands shaking as she reached to touch his face.
"I was so worried, Marcus. I thought…well, you know what I thought."

He smiled, then kissed her lips.
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

In the early morning, he had rummaged through the garbage until he found the box. After wiping it down, he hid it behind some tools in the garage.

Now it was in his brother's footlocker.

It called to him.
Use me. You'll feel so good. You'll be free. No more pain.

He took a long swig of coffee. It was cold.

During the dinner break, he pulled Leo aside.
"I need to go to a meeting."

Leo patted his arm and
nodded. "We'll go together."

Carol entered the break room
, and they moved away from each other.

"
You two whispering secrets over there?" Carol asked.

"
Wouldn't you like to know," Leo said with a grin.

The woman let out a dramatic sigh.
"There are a lot of things I'd like to know, Leonardo. Like why your wife lets you out in public wearing corduroys. Didn't you know that went out in the '80s?"

Marcus laughed.
"She's right about that, my friend." He'd teased Leo about his cords for the past few months, but Leo liked to be different.

"
What are you two—the fashion police?" Leo waved a hand in the air. "You two know nothing about fashion. Everything comes back eventually."

"
So you're saying you're
ahead
of the times?" Marcus asked.

All three started laughing. Well, if you could call Carol
's
"snort, snort"
a laugh.

Footsteps.

"Shit!" Leo muttered. "It's probably Titanic."

They erased all signs of laughter from their faces
the second Shipley rounded the corner. He headed for the coffeepot without saying a word to any of them.

With a small wave to Carol, Marcus headed back to his desk. Leo was right behind him.

"The man has a radar for anything remotely like fun," Marcus said.

"
Maybe he's bugged the break room."

"
Your inner mobster is showing again, Leo."

The phone rang and they went back to work.

The early evening crept by with fewer than normal calls. Marcus handled a store fire and one suspicious call that turned out to be a crank call by a couple of bored teens. The police were on the way to their home, and Marcus could only imagine the parents
' reactions when they discovered what their sweet little boys had been up to. The officers would give them a warning. Maybe the parents would ground the boys. Who knew in today's age of parenting?

He wondered if Ryan would
've been so mischievous had he lived. Marcus had missed out on time with his son. Work had gotten in the way at first. And then the drugs. One thing he could always say: he had never used around Ryan. Usually he snuck out into the garage late at night. Or right before his shift. Not too responsible.