Ty had stopped crying, and he looked at Bailey's chair with big blue eyes. Bailey wheeled into the opening, pushing the door wider with his chair. He was so close Ty could literally crawl into his lap. If he would.
“Come on, Ty. I have a treat for you. You can have some candy, and Bailey will take you for a ride in his chair. Let Mommy have a nap.” Bailey's voice broke on the words, but the mention of candy was all it took. Ty knelt down in the foot well and climbed over Bailey's armrest and into Bailey's lap. He dug his tiny hand into the little white grocery sack and pulled out the Starbursts triumphantly. Bailey backed away from the door, away from Rita. He had to get help. And he was very afraid that at any minute Becker Garth would come running out of the bar and see him. Or worse, drive away with Rita dying in the front seat of his truck.
“Hold on to Bailey, Ty.”
“Go fast?”
“Yeah. We're going to go fast.”
Ty had no concept of holding on. Bailey needed his right hand to drive the wheelchair and his left to punch in 911 on the cell phone that was strapped to his other armrest. He dialed and hit speaker and then put his left arm around Ty, trying to secure him as he crossed the gravel and eased up onto the sidewalk. The 911 operator answered and Bailey started spilling out the details, shouting at his armrest and trying to steer. Ty started to cry.
“I'm sorry sir. I can't hear you.”
“There is a woman, her name is Rita Marsden . . . Rita Garth. She's unconscious in her husband's vehicle. He's hit her before, and I think he's done something to her. The truck is parked in front of Jerry's Joint on Main. The husband's name is Becker Garth. Her two-year-old son was there with her. I heard him crying. I have the kid but I don't dare stay with Rita, because her husband could come out any second. And I don't want him to run and take the baby.”
“Does the woman have a pulse?”
“I don't know!” Bailey cried helplessly. “I couldn't reach her.” He could tell the 911 operator was confused. “Look, I'm in a wheelchair. I can't raise my arms. I'm lucky I was able to get her child out of the truck. Please send the police and an ambulance!”
“What is the license plate on the vehicle?”
“I don't know! I'm not there anymore!” Bailey slowed and turned the chair slightly, wondering if he should go back for the answers the operator was seeking. What he saw behind him made his heart seize in his chest. He was maybe two blocks away from the bar but there were lights pulling out of the lot. It looked like Becker's truck.
“He's coming!” Bailey shrieked, increasing his speed, roaring down the street as fast as he could. He needed to cross over, but that would put him in Becker's headlights. And the headlights were bearing down on him. Tyler was screaming, sensing Bailey's panic. The 911 operator was trying to get him to answer questions and “remain calm.”
“He's coming! My name is Bailey Sheen, and I am holding Tyler Garth on my lap. I'm in a wheelchair driving down Main toward Center in Hannah Lake. Becker Garth hurt his wife and he's coming toward us. I need help!”
Somehow, miraculously, Becker Garth drove right past. He obviously didn't expect the guy in the wheelchair to be any sort of threat. Of course, he'd always underestimated Bailey. Bailey's heart leaped in relief. And then Becker hit his brakes and spun his truck around.
He sped back toward Bailey, and Bailey knew there was no way Becker wasn't going to notice the child on his lap. Bailey shot across the two-lane street, veering right in front of the oncoming truck, knowing his only chance was to get to Bob's and relative safety.
Wheels squealed behind him as Becker's truck flew past him again and tried to brake, not expecting Bailey's wild maneuvering.
“I'm turning down Center toward Bob's Speedy Mart!” Bailey screamed, hoping the 911 operator was hearing what he said. Ty had lungs and he was terrified. At least he was clinging to Bailey like a baby chimp, making it easier for Bailey to hold onto him.
There was certainly no way Bailey could hide. Ty's screams would give them away. There was no time anyway. Becker Garth had flipped around and was coming down Center, pinning them in his lights once more. The black 4X4 rolled up along Bailey's left side. Bailey could see that the passenger side window was down, but he didn't look at Becker. His attention stayed riveted on the road in front of him.
“Sheen! Where the hell do you think you're going with my kid?”
Bailey kept pushing his controls, flying along the darkened street, praying he wouldn't hit any potholes. Hannah Lake had more potholes than streetlights, and the combination was dangerous, especially in a wheelchair.
“Pull over, you little shit!”
Bailey kept moving.
The 4X4 veered over, and Bailey screamed and pulled right on his controls. His chair lurched wildly and Bailey thought for sure it would tip, but it righted itself once again.
“He's trying to run me off the road!” he screamed at the 911 operator. “I am holding his kid and he's trying to freakin' run me off the road!”
The 911 operator was yelling something but Bailey couldn't hear through the roaring in his ears. Becker Garth was drunk or crazy or both, and Bailey knew he and little Ty were in serious trouble. He was not going to live through this.