Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [135]
Zak contorted his face in what he hoped was a humorous way and pointed to a spot on his cheek until, grinning, she came close and planted a kiss. As soon as she pulled away, he pointed to another spot, which she kissed, then another. The game went on until she got Silvadene on her lips and had to wipe it off with a corner of the bedsheet. At that point she took his hand, sat in a chair beside his bed, and glanced at the doorway with a fleeting look of guilt. “I can’t stay.”
“You just got here.”
“Kasey’s going to find out where I am and throw a fit. My father’s out there trying to make sense of it, but Kasey’s story keeps changing in subtle ways. The sheriff says it doesn’t match what you guys said. They’re…they’re calling you guys liars and all kinds of other names.”
“I bet they are.”
“Zak…”
“Would you like my side in a nutshell?”
“That’s what I was going to ask.”
He gave it to her, thinking it through slowly as he tried to get his brain engaged with the process. The longer he spoke, the more rigid and tense her body became. When he was finished, she didn’t ask any questions. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, though he’d done his best to include all of the pertinent details and head off any questions she might be entertaining.
“They’re talking lawyers and jail time for you guys and, if criminal charges don’t pan out, civil suits. Kasey said you’re the reason Scooter is missing.”
“Scooter’s not missing. He’s dead.”
“Oh, my God. Are you sure?”
“I saw him. He’s dead.”
“Oh, Lord. We knew he was missing, and we knew there was a good chance he was gone, but…Oh, my God.”
“Nobody wanted anybody dead.”
“No matter what Kasey says, I know you didn’t do anything wrong. And you went back for him. Anyway, I came to tell you nothing between us has changed in my mind. At least I don’t think it has. But I have to think all this through. I have to hear the rest of Kasey’s story.”
“Nadine, I love you.”
“I know you do. And I love you.”
“Your family’s probably going to—”
“Shush,” she said, touching a finger to his lips.
“Nadine?” The voice from the hallway was her mother’s. “Nadine?”
She stood up beside the bed but didn’t turn away. “Nadine,” he whispered. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Oh, Zak.” She held his look for a long time. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.”
After Nadine left, a sheriff ’s deputy spoke to Zak. “I know it was confusing up there, and from what I gather your two groups were pitted against each other,” said the deputy, Tom Mathers, a tall, reedy young man who’d walked into the room bouncing on the balls of his feet. “The way I’m seeing it, their stories are going all over the place—especially this guy, Stephens—but you three have remained constant. To me that either means you got together and rehearsed a script, or you’re telling the truth.”
“It’s the truth,” said Zak. “I’m a little too dopey to be remembering lines. The truth is all I’ve got right now.”
“I’ll tell you one thing. And you can bank on this. You boys ever get involved in anything like this again, anytime, anywhere, I swear I’m going to come and dog you. You won’t get away with it a second time.”
“We didn’t get away with anything the first time.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’re still looking into it.”
When Stephens caught them at the nurses’ station the next morning, Muldaur’s wife, Rachel, was alongside them. The plan was for Rachel to drive Zak and Muldaur to North Bend, where they would recover their parked vehicles at Stephens’s house and caravan back into Seattle. Stephens was still in a hospital gown; Muldaur and Zak were in clothing brought by Muldaur’s wife.
Stephens had dark circles under his eyes and Silvadene cream on his ears and along one side of his neck. Other than that, he appeared in perfect health, probably the result of a night in the hyperbaric chamber. “What’d you tell the deputies?” Stephens asked.
“Nothing but the truth, the whole truth,” Muldaur said, giving a salute and lapsing into his Hugh voice. “Why? What did you tell