Chapter 6
"Why that lousy son of a bitch," said Michael with clenched teeth.
"Now wait just a minute, that’s a pretty strong accusation," said Garson defensively. "Not only are you accusing my partner of obstruction of justice; but kidnapping and attempted murder?"
"How else would he have known about the sweatshirts if he hadn’t been there that night," said Micky flatly.
Garson looked at the four of them blankly. He didn’t have the slightest idea. But Jerry Hood being a crooked cop? It just didn’t seem possible. They had been partners for close to five years now. He had trusted him with his life on more than one occasion and to even suggest that he had anything to do with Ambrosia Scarletti was ludicrous. Still those sweatshirts. How did he know? Garson shook his head in disbelief.
"I just can’t believe he’d be wrapped up in something like this," he said quietly still hanging on to the faint hope that all of this was just an incredible misunderstanding.
Hood came back into the restaurant and up to the table.
"I sent out the APB and –" he stopped short noticing the peculiar expressions on the faces of the five men that were looking at him.
"What happened?" he asked inquisitively.
"I oughta ring you neck," said Michael angrily, slowly coming out of his chair only to be stopped by Micky’s hand on his shoulder behind him. "How could you betray her like that?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Hood seemingly surprised at Michael’s hostility.
"Jerry," said Garson. "what color sweatshirt was Sabrina Aldridge wearing the morning that we saw her?"
"Blue," Hood answered.
"No it wasn’t, it was white," inserted Peter accusingly.
Hood looked at him and then at the others.
"Well, maybe I just got the colors wrong," said Hood, trying to explain the apparent mistake.
"No, you got the color of the shirt right. She was wearing a blue sweatshirt the night she disappeared," said Peter.
"You were there that night, weren’t you," said Michael, his brown eyes turning dark as night.
"Are you crazy," cried Hood defensively. "I think you guys have been seeing to many Lethal Weapon movies."
"No, I don’t think so," said Micky. " You knew that Sabrina was going to be on the plane, you knew where she was hiding out and you also knew that she was wearing a blue sweatshirt last night. You wanna explain all that?"
"Look, Garson knew the same thing," exclaimed Hood looking at his partner. Garson shook his head.
"I didn’t know about the shirt Jerry. How did you?" he asked quietly.
"You can’t be serious." Hood said his voice ringing with disbelief.
"How did you know, Jerry," Garson demanded, not liking the panic-stricken look he was seeing in his eyes.
"Carl, we’ve been partners now for-"
"Dammit Jerry how did you know?" shouted Garson.
"I don’t have to stand here and listen to this," answered Hood coldly. He started to leave only to be stopped by Micky and Peter standing in front of him. Blocking his way of escape. By this time the scene had gotten the attention of the other police officers that were still in the restaurant, including the captain whose focus was now full on the situation across the room.
Hood turned around and saw Garson and Michael standing beside each other. Michael came up to within a hairsbreadth of him. His expression was clear, cold and so full of anger that Hood was actually afraid Michael might knock him to the ground with just the force of the venomous glare he was giving him.
"Now you listen to me, " he said in a stone whisper. "I’m going to give you one minute to tell me where Sabrina is, and if you don’t –"
"Threatening an officer of the law is a criminal offense," Hood reminded him coolly.
"So’s kidnapping and attempted murder," inserted Garson heavily.
"I never laid one hand on her, I just—" Hood stopped having realized that he had said too much but it was too late; the condemning words still hanging in the air.
Garson looked at him. The reality slowly settling in his mind like quicksand.
"Why Jerry?" he asked. "For God sakes why?"
"Don’t give me that holier-than- though attitude," Hood answered bitterly. "You know just as well as I do that we don’t make enough on this job to warrant what we go through day in and day out. I got fed up with it Carl. Fed up. So when Scarletti came to me and said she’d pay me 25 thousand dollars just keep tabs on Aldridge, I took her up on it. I did it for the money Carl, for the money."
"That’s too bad because where you’re going you’re not going to be able too spend much of it," said a gruff voice behind him.
Hood turned to find the Captain standing in back of him. His attention had been so focused on Michael and Garson that he hadn’t seen him come up.
"Do you have anything else to say?" the Captain asked.
"Not without my lawyer," Hood answered angrily.
"I’ll take your sidearm and shield," the Captain said sternly.
Hood took his gun out of his shoulder holster and gave it to the Captain along with leather case that contained his badge. The captain motioned to two other uniformed officers who placed handcuffs on Hood.
"Can I ask him one thing before he’s taken away?" Michael asked the Captain.
"You can, but he doesn’t have to answer you," he said warningly.
Michael looked at Hood. "Where is Sabrina?" he asked straight as a board.
Hood looked at him and shrugged. "I guess it doesn’t matter by now anyway. You might as well face the facts Nesmith. She’s dead."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
"Amber’s family owns some land about 35 miles west of here. Out there’s a well that’s been dry for some 50 years or so. That’s where you’ll find her. Amber wanted her to go through the same thing she went through in prison. The isolation, the loneliness and her sentence.
"Amber’s sentence was life without parole," said Michael.
"Yes, I know and to make sure she would, Amber had the top of the well sealed".
"WHAT!!" exclaimed Michael.
Hood nodded. "She’s been in there for at least 18 hours if not longer and there’s no way any air could have gotten in there."
"Oh my God," said Michael in disbelief.
"Do you know where this well exactly is?" the Captain asked.
Hood nodded.
With in a few min.’s everyone was outside getting into their cars and heading out to the highway. A helicopter was called in just in case Hood’s memory was alittle less than perfect. As they drove out Michael was silent. The 35 miles seemed to stretch for an eternity and he was trying hard to keep the horrifying visions of Sabrina suffocating to death out of his mind. Micky looked over at him. He knew that Michael wasn’t just worried, he was flat scared. He tried to give him a reassuring smile but deep down he knew. Out in the desert, no food or water, and no oxygen for 18 hours. It would be a damn miracle. They finally turned off the road and went down another five miles till they got to a gate. Michael saw Garson get out of his car and opened the gate as the other cars systematically came through. Another couple of miles through what could only be described as "in the middle of no where" the cars started stopping. Everyone got out and started walking. Just a few feet from where the cars stopped they saw an oblong piece of concrete, seemingly lying on the ground.
"The well is under that," said Hood motioning to the concrete block. They started towards it when Micky grabbed Michel by the arm. Peter and David beside him.
"What are you doing?" Michael exclaimed angrily shaking Micky’s grip off of him.
"You’re staying right here," said Micky.
"But Sabrina is over there---" Michael said.
"And right now she needs those people over there to get her out." Micky said calmly. " The best way you can help her is to stay out of the way and let them do their job." The argument sounded good to Micky but his ulterior motive was to keep Michael as far away from that well as possible. It was going to be hard enough seeing her being dragged out of there without seeing it close up. Michael reluctantly nodded in agreement. The four of them turned in time to see the police and rescue workers carefully remove the concrete. One of the rescue workers shined a flashlight into the dark opening.
"Yeah, I see her," he said looking up at the other officers. "She’s about eight feet down."
Michael’s heart was beating so hard by now that he was surprised the sheer sound of it couldn’t be heard. In about 3 min.’s the rescue worker had a harness and rope with a two-way radio in his hand. Slowly the others led him down into the well. About a min. later his voice could be heard over the radio the paramedics had.
"How is she?" Michael heard one of them say.
"She’s unconscious… and she’s not breathing," came the crackled answer over the radio.
Michael closed his eyes in anguish as he felt Micky and Peter’s hands on his shoulders.
"Is she DOA?" asked the paramedic, trying to sound discreet about it.
" Yeah, it looks like that the sit---- wait a minute. Oh my God!" cried the voice on the other end of the radio.
"What is it?" asked the paramedic.
"She’s got a pulse," he said excitedly.
"Could you repeat that."
"She’s got a pulse, can’t be more than maybe ten, and it’s weak, but it’s there," he said.
"Were sending down a rope now," said the paramedic hurriedly.
Within five min.’s time, Michael, Micky, Peter and David saw them slowly and carefully pull Sabrina out of the well. It took every once of staying power that Michael had to keep him from going over to her. To reassure himself that she was all right. But she was far from it and the realization of that hit him hard as the paramedics began working on her life support as soon as they got her out.
"What’s her pulse?"
"Still ten."
"Keep bagging her or we’re going to lose her."
"Pressure?"
"90 over 70"
"Respiration?"
"What’s the ETA on Careflight?"
"Careflight 2 min.’s"
"Respiration 0"
The scurry of the rescue workers was slightly drowned out by the sound of an approaching helicopter coming towards the scene. No sooner had it landed than the door opened and out jumped a woman in her late twenties dressed in scrubs. Moving quickly but still keeping low to avoid contact with the still moving blades.
"Okay guys, what have we got," she shouted running up.
"Female---"one of them started.
"Tell me something I don’t know," she shot back in irritation.
"Respiration 0, pulse 10. Pressure 90 over 70," said the paramedic who was bagging the oxygen mask over Sabrina’s mouth.
"Severely dehydrated," said another starting an IV in Sabrina’s arm.
"Core temp?" she asked.
"105."
"Damn," she muttered under her breath. "Okay, let’s load and go before she starts stroking out," she said aloud. "Anyone know her name?"
"Sabrina," came a voice in the distance. She looked up to find four very familiar looking men looking at her. She knew that had seen them before but she wasn’t going to try to figure it out now.
One of them started running up to her. She could tell he was really worried about her. More so than the other three.
"Her name is Sabrina Aldridge," he said to her.
"Friend of yours?" she asked quickly as the paramedics were loading Sabrina by stretcher into the helicopter.
"Yeah, she is," he said quietly.
"We’ll take good care of her," she said as she started for the doorway.
He stopped her. "Is there anyway I can go with her?" he asked.
"I’m sorry but there just isn't any room. It’s going to be crowded enough as it is," she said in a hurry but trying to be kind about the situation. "We’re taking her to the hospital in downtown Santa Fe. You can see her there okay?"
He sighed heavily but nodded his head in approval. She ran bent down to the helicopter and crawled in. Immediately the helicopter took off heading to the east. Michael stood there transfixed until he saw it fly out of site. Peter, Micky and David came up behind him.
"C’mon Mike," said David. "We’ll take you to the hospital."
It was late and the waiting room was all but empty. Evidently a slow night. He was thankful for that. He sat down in one of the chairs and looked around. What was taking so long? Why didn’t they come out and at least tell him whether she was alive or dead? He stood up, not being able to stay still. His nerves were too much on edge. He noticed Micky coming down the hallway with two Styrofoam cups in his hand.
"Here, thought you might need this", he said coming up to him and giving him the cup of coffee.
"Thanks," said Michael, taking a slight sip of it, being careful because of the temperature of it.
"Any news yet?" Micky asked.
"Not yet," he said quietly. "Where are Peter and David?"
"Back at the house," said Micky. " They’re going to try and get hold of the insurance company this morning."
"Mr. Nesmith?" came a voice from just outside the emergency room door.
"Yes?" said Michael, coming over to the man coming out, Micky close behind him.
"Hello, I’m Dr. Massuer. I’m the one who saw Sabrina in the Emergency Room."
"How is she?" Michael asked anxiously.
"Before I tell you, could you tell me what your relationship is with her?" the Dr. asked.
"We’re just very good friends." Michael answered.
"Oh, then you’re not a member of her family," inquired the doctor.
"No, but she’s staying with me while she’s in town. Her family lives in Atlanta," he said.
"Well, normally we don’t give patient conditions to anyone unless it’s a member of the family but considering the circumstances—" started the doctor hesitantly.
"Thank you, could you please tell me what her condition is?" interrupted Michael. He didn’t mean to be rude but he had been waiting a better part of four hours and his patience was running out quickly.
"Well, we got her breathing on her own which is good. Her pulse rate is up and so’s her pressure. So considering how she was when she was brought in, she’s doing better," said the doctor cautiously.
"Oh thank God," said Michael breathing a sigh of relief.
"Woah, wait a minute," said the doctor warningly. "I said she was doing better but she’s far from being out of woods yet. Her condition is very unstable. Her core temp. is still very high, she’s severely dehydrated and she’s still unconscious. We had hoped that when we got her breathing going that she would start showing an immediate improvement. She hasn’t and that’s got me very concerned at this point.
"Why, what does that mean?" asked Micky.
"We’re afraid she may be slipping into coma," said the doctor.
Michael sank numbly into one of the nearby chairs against the wall. He was still hearing everything, but he suddenly felt displaced as if all the feeling and emotion had left his body. The only thing left was hollow and foreboding.
"I’m sorry", said the doctor " I wish I had better news for you. We took her up to ICU about 15 min.’s ago. That’s where she’ll be until things change."
"When will that be?" asked Micky, hoping that Michael had heard the question, he really wasn’t sure.
"We simply don’t know. Could be tomorrow, could be three days from now," said the doctor quietly.
"Can I see her?" Michael heard himself say and looked up at the doctor.
"I’m sorry," he said regretfully "I know you’d like to but as long as she’s in ICU the only people that can see her are family members. I’ve talked to Det. Garson and he told me the situation and the police are going to keep a guard on her so she perfectly safe and she’s getting the very best of care up there."
"I’d still like to see her," said Michael quietly. Normally he would have demanded it but right now he was too tired and too distraught to put up much of a fight.
"Look, let me talk to the administrator in the morning," said the doctor. "Maybe we can get special permission."
"Thanks," said Michael.
"I’ve got to get back, if there’s any change I’ll let you know," said the doctor.
"Thanks doctor," said Micky sitting down next to Michael.
"You okay?" he asked as the doctor went back into the Emergency Room.
"Yeah, I’m okay," Michael said, feeling the perception slipping back into his head.
"Look, there’s nothing more you can do here. Why don’t you go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow," suggested Micky.
"No, I’m okay. I’ll just stay here," he said leaning back in the chair.
"Look you’re tired, you haven’t eaten anything all day and you can’t see her until tomorrow morning anyways…"
"Mic…I’m staying here," he said, a small edge to his voice. "I realize what you’re saying and I appreciate it but I’m not leaving."
"Well, I’ll stay here with….."
"No, you go ahead and go on. No sense in both of us staying here. Besides if you could help with the insurance stuff I’d appreciate it. They’re going to need a inventory of everything that was destroyed in order to claim it."
"Hey, no problem. You sure you don’t want me to stay?"
"Positive."
"Okay, tell ya what, I’ll bring ya some donuts in the morning"
"Thanks" said Michael as Micky got up from his chair. "For everything."
He extended his hand as Micky shook it firmly and hit him slightly on the shoulder.
"I’ll see you in the morning," said Micky.
As he started down the corridor, Michael leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"Excuse me?" asked a female voice.
Michael opened his eyes and looked up to find a woman standing in front of him. The same one who he had spoken with at the helicopter.
"Oh hi," he said.
"I sorry if I woke you up," she said.
"That’s okay, I wasn’t asleep," he said.
"Uh, are you Michael Nesmith?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes, I’m him." Michael said kindly.
"Oh," she said. "That’s a relief. For a minute there I thought I’d been working too hard."
"You’re the person from the helicopter aren’t you?" he asked.
"Yeah. How’s your friend?" she asked.
"Not doing very well I’m afraid" he answered.
" Oh, I’m sorry," she said sitting down next to him. " Well if it’s any consolation, this is a very good hospital. The best in the city."
"Yeah, I suppose," he said sourly and then realized how the tone must have sounded to her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just than I’m very tired…."
"And very worried," she said finishing his sentence understandingly.
"Yeah," he said grinning at her. "What’s your name?"
"Oh I’m sorry, I’m Amy Gunter. I’m a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit."
"You work in ICU?" he asked.
"Yeah. The only reason I was on Careflight this evening is that they were short an ER nurse and because I’m ALS certified, I told them I’d go."
"ALS?" he asked inquisitively.
"Advance Life Support," she said.
"Oh," said Michael understanding the initials. "Are you working in there tonight?"
"Yeah," she said looking at her watch. "As a matter of fact, I’m suppose to be up there already."
"Would you do me a favor?" he asked.
"Sure, if I can," Amy answered.
"Sabrina is up there now. If something happens, would you let me know so I can call her family?" he asked sincerely.
"Why don’t you call them now?" she asked, alittle curious that he hadn’t already done so.
"I don’t want to call them unless it’s absolutely necessary. She wouldn’t want them here worrying about her," he said.
"Sure," she said sympathetically.
She started to stand up and then stopped and looked at him.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked.
"Well, that depends, what is it?" he asked.
"I thought you kinda had a slight aversion when it comes to hospitals," she said.
"Yeah, I really don’t like them." he commented.
"Well, why don’t you go home. I mean there really isn’t anything more you can do," she said.
"No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine," he said.
"How long have you been here?" she asked alittle concerned.
"About 5 maybe 6 hours," he said rubbing his eyes wearily, being more exhausted than he was willing to admit.
"You’re not very comfortable being here are you?" she asked.
"Believe me, I can think of a dozen other places I’d rather be than here right now," he said.
"But you’re staying here because of her."
He nodded.
"You two must have a very deep relationship," she said compassionately.
He grinned at her. "You might say that."
Amy got up. "Come on."
"Where?" Michael asked.
"You’re going up to see her right now," she said definitely.
"Wait a minute. Now I’ll admit I want to see her very badly but I don’t want you getting fired over it." He said with a concerned look on his face.
"Don’t worry I won’t get fired. I think it might do you both a lot of good to be with each other right now," she said as they headed for the elevator.
She pushed the button and the door opened immediately. A few seconds later they were on the fourth flour, heading down the corridor towards a pair of doors which read "ICU and CCU No Unauthorized Personnel Admitted". She went though the doors with Michael close behind her. The area was low lit with a nurse’s station in the middle with four nurses already there. Amy went into the station area while Michael waited for her on the opposite side of the counter.
"Good evening ladies, anything I need to know about?" she asked the other four, stopping to look at the chart rack and pulling one out to look at.
"Patient in room three coded about an hour and a half ago," said one of them.
"Blue or Red?" Amy asked seriously.
"Red. He’s stable now though."
"Who’s on call from Respiratory?" Amy asked closing the chart but keeping it with her.
"Marc is," the nurse replied.
"Okay, I’m taking the gentleman down to room seven I’ll be right back," she said and left the station, motioning Michael to follow her.
They walked a small ways. The rooms in ICU surrounded the nurse’s station. Most of them had patients in them which could be seen through the glass windows in each room. Most were on heart monitors and a few were on respirators, which were the sound culprits in this otherwise silent section. She guided him to a closed door. An uniformed police officer was sitting nearby. He started to stand but then waved them through when he saw Michael. As Amy started to push the door open he stopped her.
"Before we go in, I want to know if…well," he took a deep breath. " I’d like to know if she’s connected to every machine in here," he blurted out.
"No, she’s not. She’s on a heart monitor and she does have an IV. She’s on oxygen but not like she was in the field," she said reassuringly. She was use to this. Quite often when people came to see someone in ICU they seemed to always imagine the scene worse than it actually was.
He nodded and they both went through the door. From the doorway he saw Sabrina quietly lying in the bed. Michael slowly came up to her and stood there looking at her. She was on a heart monitor and she had a thin tube across her face, which rested just under her nose that supplied the extra oxygen that she needed. The IV on the opposite side of the bed was attached to the inside of her wrist and the head of her bed was raised slightly. Her complexion was almost gray and dark circles were present under her closed eyes. She had a few scratches on her face and some bruises on her arms and one on her forehead. She looked like she had been to hell and back and the sight of her tore at his heart.
"I’m so sorry sweetheart," he whispered, keeping the misery from spilling over in his eyes.
He reached out to touch her and then stopped short. Seemingly not knowing whether he could or not.
"It’s okay," said Amy quietly, going around to the opposite side of the bed to check the IV. "If you want to you can talk to her, hold her hand…….she knows you’re here."
He reached out and timidly, lightly began rubbing his fingertips over the back of her hand.
"Her skin feels hot," he commented in broken tones.
"It’s because of her temperature and the dehydration," she said quietly. "I’ve got to get back to the station."
"Would you mind if I stay in here alittle longer?" he asked, still lightly rubbing the back of her hand.
"Stay as long as you like. If you need me, just pull that cord over there near the wall," she said, motioning to it.
Michael moved over and sat down on the bed next to Sabrina, gently taking her hand in his.
"Thank you Amy," he said as she reached the door.
She turned and smiled at him. "Just remember, don’t underestimate the power of human contact and love."
Michael looked back at Sabrina as she left. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her gently.
" Hi Bri," he said quietly. "Can you hear me honey?"
She remained motionless. He continued to hold her hand, squeezing it slightly.
"I know that you’re lost. That you’re trying to find your way back. Please don’t give up. I won’t let you. You are the most important person in my life and I will be damned if I’m going to let anyone or anything take you away from me," he said gently but forcefully, his vision becoming blurred from the pooling tears in his eyes. He leaned forward, carefully swept the few strands of hair from her forehead and kissed her tenderly. Without releasing her hand he reached over and pulled a nearby chair up next to the bed and sat down. "I’m right here….. and I’m not leaving without you."
He would have preferred to have stayed awake. He wanted to desperately, but the exhaustion and anxiety of the past 36 hours were taking their concession. Finally, not being able to keep his eyes open any longer, with her hand in his, he laid his head down next to her and drifted off to sleep.
