Dial Emmy For Murder Part 20

. . . I felt the impact from behind . . .

. . . then again from the side . . .

. . . hit my head this time . . .

. . . I fought the wheel, but then I was skidding . . .

. . . sideways . . .

. . . across the highway . . .

. . . oh, G.o.d, if there was any oncoming traffic . . .

. . . what was it? Steer into the skid . . . that was it . . . or risk flipping over . . .

. . . sirens . . .

. . . lights . . .

. . . spinning . . .

. . . spinning or dizzy? . . .

. . . around and around . . .

. . . heading for the edge . . .

. . . screeching metal . . .

. . . sparks . . .

. . . somebody screaming . . .

. . . grabbing for the door . . .

. . . screaming . . .

. . . somebody . . .

. . . me?

Chapter 37.

"Alex?"

I heard the screeching of metal, the car door protesting as it opened.

"Alex? Can you hear me?"

I felt something wet on my head, which hurt like h.e.l.l. I reached up to touch it.

"Open your eyes, Alex. Look at me!"

The voice was loud, commanding me. I didn't want to open my eyes, but I did.

"Jakes?"

"Thank G.o.d," he said. His face was illuminated by the light from inside the car. He looked worried.

"I'm not dead?"

"No," Jakes said, "you're not dead-but not by much."

"Sir?" someone said from behind him. "Can we get to her?"

"Alex, I'm going to let the EMT have a look at you, all right?"

"Sure . . . Um, my head hurts. . . ."

"He'll have a look," Jakes promised. He withdrew and a young man took his place. He asked me some questions-my name, what day it was, things like that-s.h.i.+ned a light in my eyes, told me to follow his finger. Weirdly, I noticed he needed a manicure.

"How-Where am I?" I asked.

"You're in your car."

"I know that," I said, "but I seem to remember I was . . . heading for the edge. I was going to jump out, but . . . I think I hit my head."

"You did," he said. "I'm going to take care of that now."

"But . . . how did I not go over the edge?"

"You'll have to ask the detective about that," the EMT said. "It looks like he saved your life."

"H-how?"

"Well, I don't know all the facts, but it appears he used his own car to keep you from being rammed and pushed over the edge."

"B-but how?"

"Again," he said, "you'll have to ask the detective. Now hold still, ma'am, and I'll take care of this cut."

When the EMT was done, Jakes appeared in the doorway again and asked, "Do you want to try standing up?"

"Yes, thanks," I said.

He extended his hands and I took them. He pulled me to my feet. I either fell against him or he pulled me to him for a brief hug, but I was on my feet again so quickly I couldn't be sure.

"What happened?" I asked. I turned and looked at the car. I couldn't see much, it was so dark. The air felt good on my face, though. In fact, it felt good to be alive.

"You were hit repeatedly in the back," he said. "Then on the pa.s.senger side. I was coming from the other direction when you went careening across the southbound lanes, heading for the edge."

"B-but . . . I didn't go over."

"No," Jakes said. "Both pa.s.senger side tires blew out. The metal rims sc.r.a.ping along the ground slowed you down enough to keep you from going over."

"Then what?" I wanted him to get to the part where he saved my life.

"Well, it looked like the truck was going to ram you over the edge."

"And?"

"Well . . ." He seemed uncomfortable. "I pulled my car up alongside yours."

"You got between me and the truck?"

"Yes."

"Your car is no match for a large truck. He might have pushed both of us over the edge," I said.

"He might have," Jake said, "but instead he just took off."

"You saved me," I said simply.

"But I didn't keep you from getting hurt. I'm so sorry."

I couldn't stop staring at him. Something wasn't making any sense. "What were you doing here? How did you know I needed help?"

"And I didn't get the license plate of the truck," he went on.

"Jakes . . . answer me."

"Well, in this case it was just luck. But after you told me about Randy, I've . . . been keeping an eye on you. Just in case. I didn't like the way it sounded, so . . ."

"Do you think that was Randy in the truck?" It would be hard for me to believe Randy could be a killer but stranger things have happened.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure. I have some people keeping an eye out and they haven't seen him, but maybe he slipped by."

"Frank . . ." I reached out for his face and gently held it in my hands. "Thank you."

"Well. That is my job, you-"

I stopped his words by putting my lips over his and kissing him. We came together like two long-lost lovers who had been separated by some tragedy. I looked deeply into his eyes and felt something that I was pretty certain I'd never felt before. He seemed to be feeling it, too. It was amazing. And all-encompa.s.sing. And I didn't want it to ever end.

Just then the young EMT walked up and cleared his throat.

"Uh, sorry to, um, interrupt, ma'am, but we have to take you to the hospital," he sort of muttered, looking at us sideways. Jakes and I quickly disengaged but kept staring at each other like we were seeing each other for the first time.

"I don't have to go, do I?"

"Oh, yes," Jakes interjected. "You do. The ambulance will take you, and I'll meet you there."

"My car-"

"We'll get it towed," he said. "Don't worry. It'll be safe." His hand brushed my hair from my cheek. He spoke softly like we were the only ones there. "You have to, Alex. We need to make sure you're absolutely okay." He gave me a look like his life depended on my well-being, and I thought I was going to melt right there in the middle of Pacific Coast Highway.

The EMT led me to the ambulance as Jakes walked to his car. We were both looking over our shoulders at each other, still not willing to let the moment end.

What the h.e.l.l was going on? Whatever it was, I knew I wanted more of it.

Chapter 38.

No concussion, but three st.i.tches. A true professional, I was already wondering how we could work the st.i.tches into the storyline.

Jakes was in the waiting room when I came out.

"Doesn't look too bad," he said.

I touched the bandage over my eye. "The doctor said it will look worse in the morning," I said.

"With a little luck you won't have a black eye," Jakes said. "That looks high enough."

"You didn't have to wait," I said, although I was so very glad he did. "I can call George or my mother."

"Your mother has Sarah," he said. "I'm already here. Come on; I'll take you home."

We walked out the emergency room exit to his car. He was very solicitous, offering to bring the car to me, but I told him I could walk-even though my legs felt like wet noodles. I wasn't sure if that was because of the st.i.tches or because of what had happened with Jakes. Maybe both.

He held the pa.s.senger door open for me and then got in behind the wheel.

We were looking at each other shyly, both with silly grins. Neither one of us seemed to know what to say until finally I managed to ask, "What about my car?"

"It's been towed," Jakes said. "I'll help you get it back when you're ready."

We rode in silence for several minutes and then he became all cop. "Did you see the driver?"

"No," I said, "the windows were tinted."