No Accounting for Murder

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Mike leaned wearily against the doorjamb as the scene played out before him. He felt like he was watching a movie, one he watched from the outside looking in. One in which he wasn't sure what part he was supposed to be playing. Inside the room, his wife was fighting for her life.

Mike's heart raced at the thought. Sure, Carly had gotten herself into situations before. Sometimes even dangerous situations. But this was different. Before, he found out about the danger after the fact. Now he was faced with the very real prospect of losing her.

Losing her. Somehow thinking those words made it seem too real, too raw. He had already lost one wife-he didn't know what he would do if he lost Carly.

And still fear held him captive as surely as if he were nailed to the floor. He wanted to do something, anything, but he was paralyzed. Once again he did the only thing he knew to do. He paced.

Bert burst out of the hospital room, shouting at the top of his lungs. "We need a crash cart and we need it now."

Up and down the hallway, curious patients stuck their heads out of doorways to see what caused the commotion. An orderly ran for the crash cart. A nurse hurried down the corridor, her rubber soles squeaking on the tiles. On the public address system, a voice paged the doctor to Carly's room.

Mike went back into the room. His head dropped when he glimpsed Carly lying limp in the bed, one hand drooping over the side. He hurried to her side and touched her cheek. "Hold on, Carly. Wake up. You can't leave me like this."

Tears rolled down his cheeks and a sob escaped. His knees shook and his dry tongue filled his mouth. Beside the bed, a nurse checked vital signs.

His mind desperately searched for words to give her reasons to live. "Hey, love, hang in there. We've got Denise and the grandkids coming to visit and Doc is waiting at home for you."

Running footsteps and the squeaking of wheels intruded on his thoughts, jerking him back to the here and now. The orderly with the crash cart. The footsteps stopped outside the room and a bump at the door signaled the orderly pushing the cart through the door.

Then Bert's voice boomed out orders. "This is a secure room and only authorized personnel are allowed. This patient is a witness in a murder case. Sheriff's orders."

Mike looked up as Bert shouldered the orderly aside and took charge, clumsily maneuvering the cart into the room. Mike winced as Bert bumped the foot of the bed.

From the hallway, more rubber soles squeaked on the linoleum floors. A young man burst in through the door, his stethoscope swinging from side to side. The doctor. He strode past Bert into the room, calling for the nurse to assist him. Both medical professionals bent over Carly's lifeless form. Bert closed the door on curious onlookers. Time was of the essence here and there was no time for explanations.

An hour later, an exhausted Mike left the room with Bert close behind him.

The Sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. The doctor said she's stable for now. At least they were able to resuscitate her."

"Sure, Bert, but to what? The doctor said there might be brain damage. She went a long time without breathing."

Bert patted his back as they made their way to the elevator. "Let's not worry about that until she comes out of the coma, okay?"

"But she might not come out of it. And she came so close to telling us who killed the mayor. I know she knows and I believe she even has the evidence. Without that, we might never get the person who did this. If she doesn't make it, she will die for nothing."