The Dummy Line (24 page)

The head ER nurse saw Tanner’s right eye open slightly. He was blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the bright lights. His left eye was swollen completely shut. She eased to his side, saying a few comforting words. When he seemed to relax a bit, she quietly left the room and paged Dr. Sarhan. She looked back into the room and noted that he had closed his eye.

The nurse walked across the hall to the waiting room to tell Mrs. Tillman that Tanner was waking and that she would be allowed to see him as soon. Olivia Beasley was there, wringing her hands. The two mothers hugged each other. The nurse’s next duty was to call Martha O’Brien at the sheriff’s office to alert her.

Dr. Sarhan walked very deliberately down the hall into the room and immediately checked the dilation in Tanner’s right eye. “I am Dr. Sarhan. Tanner? You know where you are? What happened to you?”

Tanner’s eye slowly rolled back in his head, then shut. Dr. Sarhan recognized the morphine fog in which Tanner’s mind floated. “You been in bad accident. You serious injuries…but you be all right. You very lucky.”

Tanner started to sit up and talk but couldn’t. Dr. Sarhan placed both of his hands on Tanner’s shoulders and gently forced him to lie still. Tanner was moaning. Dr. Sarhan looked up to check the morphine drip, then made a note on his chart. As soon as the doctor took his hand off him, Tanner tried to sit up again. He groped at the tube protruding from his mouth. Dr. Sarhan grabbed him. “Stop struggling, Tanner. You lie still…relax.”

The doctor could clearly see the terror in Tanner’s eye. “It’s OK now. I promise. You safe…nothing happen you now,” Dr. Sarhan explained in his soothing Indian accent.

Tanner tried to talk, but the tube down his throat prevented it. With his good eye, he tried to communicate his urgency to the doctor. The doctor misinterpreted the look as pain, quickly ordering the nurse to increase the morphine drip. “Now!” he exclaimed.

As the nurse hurriedly approached, she watched Tanner. Fifteen years as an ICU nurse had honed her clinical observation skills. She recognized Tanner’s efforts.

“Dr. Sarhan, he’s trying to speak!” she excitedly informed the doctor.

“What?” he replied, looking up from the medical chart. “He can’t talk…he is intubated.”

“He sure is trying…maybe he can write!” the nurse said as she rounded the bed, grabbed a notepad, and took a pen from the breast pocket of the doctor’s lab coat. She placed the pen in Tanner’s hand and wrapped his fingers around it. She guided his hand to the notepad.

“Write what you want, dear.” She spoke slowly and deliberately. She could see Tanner’s immediate relief. Dr. Sarhan also observed it.

Tanner was in a haze from the morphine, but all he could think about was Elizabeth. The image of her face was all he could see. He could hear her screaming. He fought to keep his mind clear. With great effort and concentration, he finally scribbled Elizabeth’s name then opened his eye wide with worry, waiting for the response.

“Elizabeth…he’s asking about Elizabeth!” The nurse excitedly headed for the door. As she pushed it open, she saw Deputy Lakreshia Gibbons walking quickly toward the room.

“Lakreshia, come quickly! He just scribbled Elizabeth’s name…he’s asking about Elizabeth!”

Lakreshia knew they were searching for Elizabeth but didn’t know any details. She rushed to Tanner’s side. Dr. Sarhan, still concentrating on Tanner’s injuries and pain level, reluctantly stepped back, out of her way.

Tanner had scribbled another note and was trying to give it to someone. She grabbed it and tried to read it.

“I can’t read it,” Lakreshia said in a frustrated tone, handing it to the nurse.

“I can’t either,” the nurse responded.

Lakreshia looked at him, concerned, and bluntly asked, “Where’s Elizabeth? We can’t find her? Tanner…where is Elizabeth? She’s not at your Jeep.”

Tanner’s heart monitor started racing as he struggled to sit up. He was obviously very upset. He grabbed at the tube and the IV lines in his arms. He was trying with every fiber of his being to sit up when Dr. Sarhan pushed him back and ordered the nurse to immediately administer more sedative.

“Now!” he ordered. He watched her bypass the drip machine’s settings, giving Tanner an immediate dose.

Tanner struggled to communicate. He couldn’t speak. White-hot flashes of pain coursed through him, taking away his breath. He couldn’t make his hands move like he wanted. He could think clearly, but couldn’t communicate.

“Everything OK. Pain will leave shortly,” Dr. Sarhan said, not about to let the young man suffer.

In Tanner’s mind, he was screaming
NO!
He couldn’t keep his eye open. He wanted to find out more about Elizabeth!
Where is she! They have to find her!
The drugs were kicking in hard now. Everything became heavy and fuzzy—except for Elizabeth’s image, which was crystal clear.

Mrs. Tillman appeared in the doorway. Dr. Sarhan encouraged her to come in, thinking her presence might help calm Tanner.

Holding her hand over her mouth, she approached her son. Right behind her, Olivia Beasley came in, anxious to ask Tanner some questions.

Tanner could hear everything being said.

“He not awake long,” said Dr. Sarhan, stepping back to let the women get closer.

“Tanner, where’s Elizabeth?” Mrs. Tillman asked.

Tanner’s eye grew wider and then rolled back slightly. She could tell he wanted to talk, but the morphine had a big grip on him.

“Tanner?” she asked, trying to keep her emotions together. “Tanner?”

“He can’t talk. He has tube. He in great pain.”

“Yes…yes,” Mrs. Tillman responded, trying to be upbeat, positive.

The nurse again handed Tanner the pen and replaced the notepad under his right hand.

“Tanner, can you write where Elizabeth is? There’s a pen in your hand, sweetie. Just write down where she is. Tanner, are you with us?”

His eye rolled again. Mrs. Tillman thought he understood, but his hand never moved. Tanner couldn’t stop the heavy curtain of drowsiness from being pulled closed. Elizabeth’s image, every date, every kiss replayed in fast-forward. He silently screamed. The questions about Elizabeth hurt his soul.
No one knows where she is!

“Tanner? Please!” Olivia Beasley begged.

His hand slowly scribbled as everyone in the room watched intently. He desperately tried to write but couldn’t.

“That’s it, Tanner…just write it down!” his mother said, encouraging him.

Tanner’s hand twitched again, and then his eye closed. It stayed closed.

“Sorry, ladies. He out now,” Dr. Sarhan explained. His primary focus was on his patient.

“Who is Elizabeth?” Dr. Sarhan asked as an afterthought.

“She was with Tanner on a date, and now she’s missing,” Tanner’s mother explained. “We have no idea where she is…the sheriff doesn’t even know where to look.” She began to sob.

“I see. I alert you when he wakes up,” Dr. Sarhan said, preoccupied, looking down at Tanner’s chart.

Dr. Sarhan had not been apprised of the circumstances surrounding Tanner’s injuries. Had he been, he would not have ordered that last surge of morphine. He quietly left the room to search for Narcan to reverse the effects of the morphine. He didn’t know if the hospital had any.

Tanner had heard every word.

Mrs. Tillman again covered her mouth while she looked at him. Her right hand brushed the hair over his forehead as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Olivia Beasley took the piece of paper but couldn’t make out anything legible.
Maybe a “g” or a “9,” and the second letter might be an “a,”
she thought.
Two letters…what are they?
She walked out of the room and stopped at the nurse’s desk to study the scribbling. It didn’t make any sense.

A huge county map was spread on the table when Ollie walked in. Marlow had four Hale County deputies, three Sumter County deputies, the Sumter County game warden, and Zach Beasley all standing around the table. Ollie thanked everyone for being there, then quickly ran through the story, explaining in detail what they knew and what they theorized might have happened. He was careful not to paint a picture of Jake Crosby’s innocence. The deputies were attentive, anxious. This was the rush for which they lived.

“What we want to do is contain this area around the gate, and then set up a perimeter that will stretch out to these points,” Ollie explained, pointing to the map. “The good news is that there are only a few ways to exit the property by vehicle. The bad news is we have no idea if they are actually on it.”

“That’s a real problem,” Marlow interjected. “And the guys we suspect are behind this, Johnny Lee Grover and crew, will damn sure be armed, and believe me, they are as crazy as car-struck dogs—really dangerous.”

“That’s right, so nobody try to be a hero. Get on the radio and get some backup, OK?” Ollie said, looked at each of them, then took a sip of coffee. “We have a helicopter that will be here at daylight. That’ll be a big help covering the area. Keep that in mind.”

Ollie set his cup on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Staring at each deputy again he said, “All right, everybody, before we make assignments, I wanna emphasize the importance of this search and ask that you stay away from the media. Don’t let your excitement cloud your judgment or your training. There’s a seventeen-year-old girl out there who needs us. Job One is to find her. Got it?”

Everyone nodded or said, “Yes sir.”

Ollie continued. “Miz Martha’s prepared some fact sheets on Elizabeth. Grab one on your way out.”

“Any questions?” Marlow interjected.

“It’s turkey season…will there be other hunters in the area?” a deputy asked.

“I don’t have a clue. It wouldn’t surprise me,” Ollie added.

“I vote we don’t let ‘em go in…if we run into any hunters wantin’ to enter the property,” the same deputy responded.

“Agreed. We don’t need the added confusion,” said Ollie. “Turn ‘em around if any show up. But don’t tell ‘em anything.”

The group nodded in unison.

“Good,” Ollie continued. “One other thing: We just got word that Tanner Tillman woke up briefly; he couldn’t speak, but when they asked where Elizabeth was, he scribbled what appeared to be a
G
and an
A
before he passed out again.”

“That could mean
gate
,” one deputy commented.

“And it could mean Gainesville,” another added. “That’s not but fifteen miles away.”

“It could mean gang…or even garbage…you know the big dump is right up Highway Seventeen!” a deputy blurted excitedly.

“All true, but let’s not let our imaginations run wild. This information is not really helpful at this point. It simply adds more confusion. I believe we will eventually determine that it means the gate,” Ollie explained. He loved the group’s enthusiasm but needed them to focus.

“Everyone knows R.C., right? He and Steve Tillman have gone to look around on the property where we believe the kids were tonight. If we hear anything, we’ll pass it along. I expect a report from them soon,” Ollie added as he stood.

“One last thing…I have a man named Mick Johnson that may show up to help. He knows Crosby, and he knows the property, so let him through,” Ollie explained, watching them all write down the name.

“Zach, do you have anything?” Ollie asked kindly.

This caught Zach by surprise. He wasn’t prepared to talk. The men watched him with compassion. Ollie hoped to inspire the group with Zach’s presence.

“Please find my daughter. Please find her and bring her home,” he said with a quiver in his voice. All were clearly touched by his emotion.

“All right, gentlemen. Here is what I want everyone to do.” Ollie ran his hand over the map and began laying out his plan. The group listened to every word. Even Sheriff Marlow paid attention. For Ollie, it was like his football days when he would take over the defensive huddle and rally the team for a fourth-quarter, red-zone stand.

Jake stopped to check his map when they came to an intersection of two logging roads. He was out of breath. He knelt down, letting Katy slide off his back. He hid the light as he got his bearings. He now knew for certain where they were. The field was not very far. He clicked off the light and looked at the girls.

Elizabeth was trying to catch her breath. Katy simply studied Elizabeth.

“OK, ladies, we don’t have much farther. There’s a perfect place for us to hide and rest. Can y’all make it for ten more minutes?” he whispered.

They both nodded. Jake could tell Elizabeth was numb, mentally and physically. Katy was subdued but definitely more upbeat since her focus and concerns were now on Elizabeth.
Thank God she doesn’t understand how serious all this is
. He gently rubbed the top of her head reassuringly before he picked her up, grunting lightly.

Jake consciously thought about where to walk in an effort to leave the least amount of tracks. He even thought of splitting up, but that was no good. Jake didn’t want the guys chasing Elizabeth by herself, and they might not ever be able to get back together. No, they were a group and needed to stay a group, he decided. He had to protect her as well.
It’s my fault she’s in this mess.
Jake decided to stay on this higher ground, in the pines, and hope for the best as he made his way toward the field.

“Katy, you’ve turned into a chunk. How much do you weigh, girl?” he whispered, readjusting her weight.

“Only fifty-two pounds, Dad. Less than the dog,” she whispered back.

“I think you’ve put on some weight in the last few hours,” he quietly grunted.

“Dad, I’ll walk…let me walk.”

“No, no. It’s muddy and there are sharp sticks and pine cones. This is better, trust me. I’m fine. Just don’t ever let me forget your boots again, okay?”

“OK.” She giggled.

“You still have Cheddar?”

“Oh, yeah.” She held the Beanie Baby in front of his eyes, temporarily blocking his vision.

“Good. I don’t wanna have to go back and look for him somewhere.”

“And I’d make you,” Katy said smartly, momentarily forgetting their circumstances.

“I know you would,” Jake replied.

She grabbed his head and put her lips right next to his ear and said, “I’m gonna give him to Elizabeth when we get outta here. He’s a good-luck charm. I think she needs some good luck.”

“That’s a great idea,” he whispered as he snaked his way through the dense trees. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Elizabeth with her crude crutch and that the cushion was still on the bottom of the gun barrel.

Jake tried to think through potential outcomes to their situation. He wondered if Mick understood his call for help. He reached into his vest for his cell phone, found it, and punched a key to light it.
No service. Damn it!
He hated cell phones. He jammed it back in his pocket and kept walking.
I should’ve tried to call back from that same spot,
he thought, cursing himself.
I panicked
. Even if Mick didn’t hear enough of Jake’s call to alert the authorities, surely somebody would miss Elizabeth and her boyfriend.
They aren’t old enough to stay out all night. Would their folks even know where to look? Probably not,
he realized.
Just keep walking; it’ll come to you
.