I nodded, feeling the effort of even that much movement. “Detective. Beaulac PD.”
“Hunh. Make all sorts of enemies as a cop. I was a deputy with St. Tammany for more than thirty years. Retired now. Get to fish all I want.” His eyes swept over the river, and I could see what I knew was plain old naked love. He dialed 911 and gave the dispatcher a brief rundown of the incident. He glanced down at me. “What’s your name, darlin’?”
“Kara Gillian.”
He relayed my name and told the dispatcher that he’d meet them at the landing by the bridge. A few minutes later, I felt the boat crunch up against sand, and he leaped deftly out and pulled it farther up. I stood as soon as I was marginally stable, though my legs were still insanely wobbly. But he grabbed my hand in his thick, calloused one and practically lifted me to the bank. I gave him a smile of thanks and then staggered two steps to a spot on the bank that was reasonably rock-free and sank to sit. Holy crap, I’m not dead. I looked back at the bridge, wanting to laugh and shiver at the same time. Did someone want me dead, or was that an accident? I hugged my arms around myself, then shifted into othersight and looked at where my car had gone in the water. The truck had hit me twice. Tough to believe that was an accident.
I could see none of the incredible potency of the river that had surrounded me before. Was it because I didn’t need it anymore? No way to know, but I knew the river was just a river now. I wonder if they’ll be able to get my car out. And what they’ll think of the damage to it. I’d barely been able to make a blue glow in my hand back at my aunt’s house, but just a few minutes ago I’d harnessed and controlled enough potency to rip a car into pieces.
And even that might not have been enough if the old fisherman hadn’t been nearby.
I turned back to him. “Thank you,” I said. “I don’t even know your name.”
He smiled, a nice, friendly, open smile. “Raimer. Hilery Raimer.”
“I’ll remember that name.”
He nodded and looked back at the river. “Y’wanna hear somethin’ strange? You’re gonna think I’m crazy.…”
“I’m the last person to call anyone crazy,” I said with a weak grin.
He gave a small snort of laughter. “Funniest thing … ’bout five minutes before your car went into the river, I was anchored around the curve. Never woulda seen your car go in, and even if I’d heard it, I never woulda got here in time.” He shook his head. “But I coulda sworn I heard a lady yelling at me.” He glanced at me, uncertainty flickering across his face.
“Go on,” I urged.
He shrugged, trying to play it off. “I dunno. I been out in the sun a long time. But I coulda sworn I heard some lady yell, ‘Hey, old man, get your bony ass to the bridge. My knees hurt!’” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not the kinda thing a guardian angel usually says, huh?”
I echoed his chuckle even as a chill walked down my spine. My knees?
Or my niece?
AS SOON AS I CHECKED MYSELF OUT OF THE ER, I HAD Jill take me over to the neuro center so I could check on my aunt. The fisherman’s words seemed to echo through my head as I made a righteous scene, barging my way past the receptionist and nurses, holding my badge up and baring my teeth at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get in my way.
But when I made it up to her room, I got the shock of a lifetime.
“Where is she?” I whirled away from the sight of Tessa’s empty and made bed to confront the nurse assistant who had followed me into the room. Cold misery threatened to sweep over me as my mind quickly ran down the possible reasons why Tessa wasn’t in her bed.
“I’ve been trying to tell you!” the young woman panted. “She’s been moved to another section.” She bit her lip, hesitating.
The misery began to tighten my chest. “Where? Is she still alive?”
The nurse assistant gave me a nod that was clearly more emphatic than necessary. “She just needed to be given better care than she could receive here.”
I gave her a hard look. “Is she on a ventilator now?” I’d tried to mentally prepare myself for this possibility, especially with how much her body had been declining, but it was still a harsh blow when the young woman sighed and nodded.
“Yes. It happened only a few hours ago. We tried to call you, but there was no answer.”
“My phone got wet,” I said numbly, in drastic understatement. “I need to see her.”
“Of course,” the woman murmured. “This way.”
She led me to the third floor, a section of the hospital that looked like a hospital, with beeping monitors, and tubes, and a lingering absence of hope. She directed me to a room that held three other patients, each separated by a curtain.