Cold Case Justice

“Elwood wants to talk to you.” Her attacker’s gruff voice spiked the fear she felt.

With her heart pounding, she struggled to break free. White-hot pain exploded from her rib cage. The man grabbed her injured arm as black dots filled her field of vision.

As she fell to the ground, the last thing she heard was pounding footsteps.

* * *

“Get away from her.” Matthew ran up and knelt on the ground beside Rochelle.

The man reeled backward, panic evident in his expression as he stared down at Rochelle. “I barely touched her.”

“This woman is injured. She needs to be in a hospital.” Matthew pulled out his phone.

“You calling the cops?”

He glared at the man. “You assaulted her.”

The thug shook his head, turned and ran down the street. Matthew returned his attention to Rochelle. He’d deal with getting the police onto that guy later. His primary concern was for Rochelle. As he gathered her into his arms, her eyes fluttered open.

“I know that something terrible must be going on for you to leave the hospital when you did,” he said. “But you make your injuries worse by running around like this.”

She nodded as though she understood and then closed her eyes. He laid her gently on the grass and ran to get his car. After pulling up to the curb, he gathered her into his arms and positioned her in the passenger seat. She stirred slightly when he reached over and belted her in.

“You don’t understand.” Her voice was groggy. “I have to leave now.” Even in her weakened state, he heard the determination in her voice.

“You’re too weak to go anywhere, Rochelle.” She still hadn’t let go of that idea. Judging from the behavior of the man who had come after her, she was in some danger. Still, the best place for her was the hospital. He’d call the police and see if he could get their help. As he drove, he phoned the hospital to let them know he’d found the missing patient and was coming in.

Maybe if he knew what was going on, the police would be more likely to help. “Who was that guy anyway? An ex-husband or something?”

She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead. “I wish it were that simple.” Anguish colored her words.

Daniel met them at the door with a wheelchair. Rochelle got into the wheelchair without much protest.

“She was in room 112. I’ll go down to the Admitting and make sure her paperwork is still in place,” Matthew said.

“Got it,” said Daniel.

Once inside, Daniel pushed the wheelchair in the opposite direction that Matthew went. Matthew made his way down the hall and turned the corner where the admitting desk was. A muscular blond man stood at the high counter. Matthew couldn’t hear all of the hushed conversation, but he heard Rochelle’s name. The administrator clicked the keys on her computer and responded to the man.

Something about the man was just as menacing as the one with the scar on his face, the man who had attacked Rochelle in front of her house.

Trust your gut.

With adrenaline surging through his veins, Matthew turned and ran back down the hall.

When he looked into room 112, it was empty. They must have assigned her a new room. At least that bought her some time. He had no idea what kind of threat Rochelle was under or who the men were. He only knew he wanted her to have a chance to recover from her injuries. He scanned the hallway wondering where Daniel would have taken her. When he glanced over his shoulder, the blond thug stalked down the hallway toward room 112. The paperwork must still say she was in that room.

Matthew ran toward the nurses’ station. Lindy was no longer on duty. Instead, a perky young nurse named Tina smiled up at him.

“Did Daniel the EMT come by here with a woman in a wheelchair?”

“He turned her over to the nurse to get her settled in room 125.” Tina pointed down the hallway.

“Thanks, Tina.” Matthew glanced over his shoulder.

Blondie came out of room 112 and made a beeline toward the nurses’ station, stopping to glance into the rooms with open doors.

Matthew hurried down the hall and opened the door to room 125. Rochelle was pushing herself out of the wheelchair, reaching for the wall for support. She lifted her head. She looked more coherent than she had previously, though her face was still pale.

“Where’s the nurse?”

“She went to get some medical supplies. Matthew, I know you’re only trying to help me, but I need to go.”

“I agree with you.”

A look of surprise and confusion crossed her features as she shook her head.

“You’ve got company in this hospital,” he said.

Her eyes grew wide. “They found me already.” Fear made her voice falter. She shot toward the door, then stopped, swaying slightly.

“Unfortunately, I think I led them here. I told that guy at your house you needed to be in a hospital. He must have phoned his muscular friend. Get back in the chair.” This was his fault. He needed to make it right. “He’s checking the rooms. Let’s move you to a safe place and then we’ll call the police and get some help for you.”

“I’m not sure if the police can help.” She wobbled and reached out for the wall.

He touched her arm lightly. “Get back in the chair. You’re in no condition to do this alone.” He realized in that moment that he was making a commitment to keep her safe until he could hand her over to the police. It was a commitment he was willing to make for Jamie’s sake. Matthew’s mother had been his saving grace growing up without a father. He sensed Rochelle possessed the same maternal strength. Without at least one parent, Jamie didn’t have any kind of a shot. Matthew couldn’t let that happen to a child when he had the power to prevent it.

Her shoulders drooped, and she turned back toward him, nearly falling into his arms. He lowered her into the chair. At the door, he peered up and down the hall. When he saw Blondie lean in to check a room a few doors down, he pushed the chair into the hallway. He quickened his pace but not so much as to call attention to himself.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Rochelle’s voice came out in a harsh whisper as she bent her head down so her long brown hair hid her face.

Matthew spoke under his breath. “He’s behind me. He can’t see you, and he doesn’t know who I am.” Matthew slipped into a supply closet and pulled his phone off his belt. He dialed the police station. “I need to talk to a police officer.”

A crisp female voice came on the line. “This is Officer Bridget O’Connor. How can I help you?”

“Listen, this is Matthew Stewart over at the hospital. I’ve got a woman who needs to be hospitalized, and I believe there is a physical threat against her. She was assaulted earlier today at her home and now there is a different guy searching the hospital for her.”

“We can send an officer over to talk with her and take it from there,” said Officer O’Connor.

“That sounds good. If he could meet us by Admitting, that would be great.”

He hung up the phone.

Rochelle looked up at him in earnest. “He’s going to meet us here?”

He was struck by how helpless she seemed sitting in the wheelchair. “We’ll be in Admitting. There’s lots of people around. I’ll stay with you until we’re sure you have the protection you need or that guy is taken into custody.”

“But that man hasn’t technically done anything to me, and he’s not the real problem,” she said.

“Maybe, but they can stop him and question him. And you can at least give them the description of the guy who grabbed you at your house, the one with the scar.”

“What if the police say that there is no reason to provide protection?” Her voice filled with anxiety. “Taking those two men into custody won’t make it stop. There is a different man behind all of this.”

Again, he wondered exactly what she was up against. She looked as though she might cry. Compassion flooded through him. Lindy the nurse was wrong. He didn’t have a rescue complex. Rochelle needed his help. He couldn’t abandon her and that kid now. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let’s see what the police say. I’ll stay with you until we get this taken care of. You need to focus on your recovery.”

She looked up at him for a long moment, probably trying to figure out why he was going to all this trouble. “Can I have your phone so I can call my son? I need to know that he’s okay at my friend’s house.”

He placed the phone in her hand, opened the door to the supply closet and backed the wheelchair out. “Everything is going to be all right. I’ll see to it that you get well so you can take care of that kid of yours. It would help if you told me why these men are after you—”

Matthew heard the thud of a single footstep. The blow to the back of his head caused an explosion in his brain. The last thing he heard as his cheek collided with the floor was Rochelle’s anguished scream.

THREE

“You’re coming with me, lady.”

The blond thug jerked her up out of the wheelchair, making her dizzy from the pain. There were no other people in the hallway. The empty nurses’ station suggested the wing might be unused. Panic washed over her like a wave.

Rochelle did not have the strength to resist the man as he dragged her toward the exit. She turned to stare down at Matthew, who had already begun to stir. “Who are you?”

“Look, lady, I was hired by a man. I’m supposed to take you to him.”

“The man you work for is a bad man. He wants to kill me.” She tried to pull her arm free, causing her to drop Matthew’s phone. The thug kicked the phone down the hall out of view. Pain sliced through her torso like a thousand tiny knifes.

“That’s not true.” Blondie squeezed her good arm tighter. “Just come on. He said you’d be resistant. He only wants to talk.”

She doubted Elwood only wanted to chat. Why go to all this trouble for a conversation? The only thing Corben wanted from her was her silence, and the only way he could get that would be to murder her. It seemed odd, though. If Corben wanted her dead, why not hire someone to kill her outright?

With a grip like iron on her upper arm, Blondie pushed her toward the exit. Any resistance she put up only caused more discomfort and made her light-headed. He led her out a side door into the employee parking lot, which unfortunately was empty. He shoved her into the back of the car. She laid her head against the leather seat. The pain had grown so intense she was having a hard time focusing let alone moving.

He grabbed her uninjured arm and pushed it upward toward the one in the sling. He pulled a piece of wire from his back pocket and secured her hands together with the insides of the wrists touching each other. She glanced around hoping, praying, that someone had seen them. He placed a blindfold over her eyes and then pushed on her shoulder. “Now get down.”

The thug got into the front seat and sped off through the parking lot. Any hope that Matthew would recover fast enough to help her faded. He’d already done more than any stranger should have and for that she was grateful. But now she was on her own.

Her captor swerved through traffic and then picked up speed. They must be headed out of town. She tried to push herself up, but when the pain intensified, she collapsed onto the seat. Her heart raced as fear surrounded her every thought.

This was it then. She wouldn’t see Jamie again. He was all that mattered to her. Jamie had guardians, a nice couple from her church. She’d made the legal arrangements shortly after he was born. He’d be loved and taken care of, but she wouldn’t be with him. Images of her son as a baby and a toddler flashed through her mind. Her eyes warmed with tears. He was her whole life.

She slipped in and out of consciousness, uncertain how much time had passed. At one point, the noise the tires made indicated that the road had changed from paved to dirt. The car came to a stop, and she heard the driver’s-side door open. She struggled to push herself up, but putting any kind of pressure on her injured arm was excruciating.

The back door opened. She assumed it was the thug until she heard a soft tenor voice. “Rochelle, it’s me.” Matthew slipped the blindfold off her.

She stared into the deep brown of his eyes, and gratitude washed over her.

He tugged on the sleeve of her good arm. “He’s making a phone call. Sounds like he’s lost and getting directions. Crawl out this way so he doesn’t see you.”

She inched across the seat, careful to keep her head down. Matthew’s courage amazed her. If it wasn’t for him, Elwood might have a gun to her head right now. She slipped out of the car and crouched, taking in her surroundings. The sky had turned dark gray with the promise of evening less than half an hour away. They were on a country road. Elwood must have rented a secluded cabin somewhere. The thug continued to talk on the phone and look out at his surroundings, probably trying to assess where he was.

Matthew pulled her into the cover of the trees and then quickly untwisted the wire that bound her hands together. “My car is down the road. I turned around when I saw he’d stopped.”

Twenty feet away, she could hear the shouts and expletives of the blond thug as he realized she’d escaped.

Matthew grabbed her good hand. “Come on, it’s not far.” He pulled her through the shelter of the trees. Out of breath and barely able to walk, she stopped and bent over. He wrapped his arm around her waist and all but carried her the remaining distance. Finally Matthew’s car came into view. She yanked open the passenger-side door, glancing over her shoulder. Blondie’s car rounded the corner. Matthew pressed the accelerator of his car just as she sat in the seat and closed the door. She belted herself in. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire and each inhale caused physical anguish.

She glanced over at Matthew, who focused on the road in front of him. What was going on with him that he would take this kind of risk for her?

Matthew gained speed. The other car loomed dangerously close.

He gripped the wheel tighter and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

The other car bumped against them. Rochelle braced herself on the dashboard with her good hand as her heart beat out a wild rhythm. There was a second and a third bump and then their car rolled down a steep hill. The front end impacted with a fallen log, coming to a jerky stop. She flew forward but the seat belt held her in place. Her whole torso flared from the trauma.

Matthew’s hand touched her shoulder. Concern filled his voice. “You all right?”

The intensity of the pain nearly blinded her, but she managed a nod. The warmth of his touch calmed her.

His hand brushed over her cheek. “I’m so sorry. The last thing you needed was to be in another accident.” He stared at her so intensely it was clear he was doing his paramedic thing and assessing her responses.

“Why are you doing all of this?”

He looked directly at her. “I just figure a kid who doesn’t have a dad deserves to at least have his mom around.”

His comment pierced straight through her. He was willing to do all of this for Jamie.

He clicked the key in the car, but nothing happened. “I’ve talked to your kid a couple of times when we ran into each other in the neighborhood. He’s a good kid. He deserves a shot at a normal life.” He shook his head. “I don’t think this car is going to start.”

Still reeling from what he had said about Jamie, Rochelle was seeing Matthew in a new light. For nine years, she’d been alone in caring about Jamie’s future. With Dylan gone, she’d assumed it would always be that way.

Rochelle glanced around. They’d rolled down a steep, snowy embankment. The road was above them, a forest on the other side. Blondie had hit them with such force that his own car had rolled down the hill, too. It was upright, but the smashed roof indicated that it must have turned over at least once.

Matthew tried his car one more time. Clearly it wasn’t going to start. He drew his attention to the thug’s wrecked car. “I’m going to make sure that guy is okay. And see if his car will run.”

Rochelle was amazed. Matthew never stopped being a paramedic. Blondie had nearly killed them, and Matthew still cared enough about his fellow human being to check on him.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I can handle it. He’s not getting out of the vehicle. He’s probably incapacitated.” Matthew pushed open the door and stepped out.

She waited for a moment and then thought it would be better if Matthew didn’t confront their pursuer alone. Still in pain, Rochelle pushed herself from the car and trailed behind Matthew. She watched him reach through the broken window of the thug’s car and touch the unconscious man’s neck to make sure he had a pulse.

Concern filled his expression when he noticed her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

“I was worried the guy might hurt you,” she said.

“I’m not sure how much help you would have been. You’re in pretty rough shape.” The corner of his mouth turned up and a smile danced in his eyes. “We need to call for help.” He looked down at his belt. “I don’t suppose you have my phone?”

“I dropped it when he grabbed me.” She peered inside the car. “His phone must be in there somewhere.” She went around to the passenger-side door and opened it to search.

Blondie’s eyes shot open. He grabbed her hair and started pulling. “You.” His voice filled with rage. Her scalp burned.

Matthew ran up behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist and wrestled her free. The thug crawled across the seat, reaching out for her, but Matthew pulled her back. The thug emerged from the wrecked car, swaying on his feet. His injuries from the accident had left him debilitated, and he stalked toward them slowly, stopping frequently. Matthew helped Rochelle sit down. After patting the thug down for a weapon, he led him back to the car where he tied him up. Weakened by the accident and his outburst with Rochelle, the thug resisted only once.

After returning to Rochelle, Matthew glanced up at the road above them and then at the forest. “Follow me.” He raced over to his wrecked car and pulled a first-aid kit out of the backseat.

She staggered toward him. Her side hurt every time she wheezed in air.

He must have seen the pain in her expression. “You can’t keep running like this. It will mess you up more. You can’t walk back to town in your condition.” He stared up at the steep incline that led to the country road.

“We have to at least try,” she said. “Someone should be along to pick us up.”

She swayed, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. He glanced over his shoulder to where the thug remained slumped against the car. “Guess we don’t have a lot of options. We’ll call for someone to come and get him when we get to town. I’ve got you. Walk as fast as you can.”

They made it only a short way up the hill before she stopped, breathing heavily and leaning against him. This wasn’t going to work. She could hardly walk, let alone climb a hill.

“I don’t think we should stay out in the open long. Other people might be coming when that guy doesn’t show up with me,” she said.

He walked parallel to the road, still supporting Rochelle. “Where was that guy taking you?”

“He was taking me to a man, an evil man who I am pretty sure wants me dead.”

“Why does he want you dead?” He continued to hold her up and plodded forward.

“Because...I...witnessed him...kill a man. Jamie’s father.” Recalling the horror of ten years ago weakened her even more. Her knees buckled.

He caught her in his arms and then looked directly at her. His hand touched her cheek. “You need to get your strength back up. You can’t walk anymore.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to go up there anyway.” She was having a hard time forming a complete thought. “They’ll be looking for us on that road when I don’t show up.”

“We’ll have to come up with a different plan, then,” said Matthew. He pulled her into the shelter of some trees. He ripped open the first-aid kit and doled out two pills from a packet. “Take these. They’ll help somewhat with the pain.” His face was etched with concern. “What you need more than anything is rest. We’ll have to walk awhile on the flat ground, find a hiding place. Can you do that for me?” He shoved other items from the kit in his pockets.

She nodded even as she felt herself growing light-headed. She peered over her shoulder wondering if the thug would be able to figure out which direction they’d gone and tell whoever showed up. The snow was patchy and their footprints faint. “I guess hiding is our best option for now.”

With Matthew supporting her, they walked until they came to a place where the tree cover was fairly thick. He gathered tree branches and laid them on top of the snow. Using the branches as a chair, Matthew helped Rochelle to the ground.

“You need to stay here and rest. I’m going to scout around and see if there is another more accessible road where we might be able to catch a ride into town.”

“What if they come looking for me or that man in the car gets away?”

Matthew knelt beside her. He touched her cheek with his palm. The warmth of his touch seeped through her skin. “I know this plan is not perfect, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you get back to the hospital and get well for your son.”

“This is above and beyond your job description.”

He hesitated. “It’s what I need to do.” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a granola bar. “In case you get hungry.” He removed his winter coat and placed it around her shoulders.

“I won’t be gone for more than forty-five minutes. If anyone does come looking for you, you should be able to hear him coming. Find a place to hide. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

How long would it be before Elwood realized something had happened and he came looking for her? “Won’t you be cold?” The sweater Matthew wore looked like it was wool, but it couldn’t totally shut out the November chill.

“You’re the one who needs to stay warm. Rest. Try to regain your strength. I’ll find a way to get you back to the hospital so you can get better.”

“Thank you.” Though she doubted she’d be safe in that hospital, she was overwhelmed by the extent to which he had gone to help her.

Matthew tilted his head. “It’s almost dark. That works in our favor.” He turned on a flashlight that was attached to his key chain and set off, his footsteps crunching in the snow. The noise slowly faded. Rochelle sat in the dark listening for the sound of approaching footsteps.

Matthew wasn’t wrong. Both accidents had weakened her. She was in no condition to travel, but what choice did she have? She slipped into Matthew’s coat, surprised by how warm it was. The coat smelled like him, kind of a woodsy musk scent. Her heart was opening up to him in a way that hadn’t happened since Dylan’s death. Yet she didn’t trust her own feelings. These were desperate circumstances, and Matthew had made it clear that his concern was only for her physical health and a secure future for Jamie. She didn’t dare read more into his kindness than that.

Despite her hypervigilance, exhaustion overtook her and she nodded off, grateful for the warmth of Matthew’s coat and for his help. She only hoped he was able to find a way back into town before Elwood Corben’s brand of trouble caught up with her again.

* * *

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest to stave off the evening cold. He’d be all right as long as he kept moving. His back muscles ached more than they should have. He’d probably strained them in the accident. He might be sore tomorrow, but he didn’t think he’d sustained much damage.

So far he hadn’t seen anything resembling a road. He hated leaving Rochelle behind. But he would have done more damage making her follow him around with no clear direction to go. He’d made a tough choice when there were no good choices.

Rochelle hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she needed to leave town. Clearly, her life was being threatened. Her initial solution had been to run, but she was in no condition for any kind of travel. When they got back into town, he’d have to convince her of that. The police had to provide some kind of protection and find the man responsible for all she had gone through.