Martin stood outside the cubicle in the trauma center, watching Lonnie Ames' distraught parents hover over their critically injured son. Lonnie had come through the surgery all right, but the doctor who'd operated on the young man told Martin it was still touch and go whether the boy would survive. "And even if he does, we can't be sure whether there's any brain damage until he wakes up and we can do neurological tests," the surgeon said. "Traumatic brain injury is always a possibility."
"Do the best you can, Doc," Martin said. He watched the doctor turn and walk back into the surgical area.
Trooper Marilyn Evans, a buxom blonde trooper from the State Patrol, walked up to Martin. "Hi, Martin, how's the Ames kid doing?" she asked.
"He's critical," Martin told her. "The doctor who operated on him says they won't know if he's going to make it for twenty-four hours at least."
"Damn," Trooper Evans said. "You got a minute?"
"Sure," he said, "why don't we go down to the cafeteria and get some coffee?"
A few minutes later they were seated at a table in the hospital cafeteria, with steaming cups filled with coffee sitting on the table in front of them.
"What did you see out there, Martin?" the trooper asked. "Did you get a good look at the scene at all?"
Martin shook his head. "I was only there a couple of seconds before the fire started," he said. "After that, I didn't have time to see much."
Marilyn smiled and shook her head. "I heard what you did. You know, you probably saved that kid's life you crazy bastard," she said. "If you hadn't gotten him out when you did, he'd be toast now."
"You'd have done the same thing if it'd been you," Martin said. He was a little embarrassed by her compliment.
"Maybe," the blonde trooper said. "That biker says he saw the skid marks, that's why he stopped. He says he didn't see any other cars."
"It's a pretty sharp curve," Martin said, "You think the kid was drinking, or maybe going too fast?"
Marilyn shook her head. "Hospital did blood tests, he was double zero," she said. "And, judging from the skid marks, I'd say he was going well under what would have been a safe speed."
"You think he fell asleep?" Martin asked.
"Could be," she said, "but I sure as hell wish I could talk to him. One of the local cops knows the kid, says he's one of the few teenagers in Jamestown who's a careful driver. This doesn't make sense, Martin."
"Jesus!" Martin thought, when an idea occurred to him. "I wonder where Mr. Mark Lewis was tonight?"
"You looked like you had an idea, there," the trooper said. "You have any thoughts on this crash?"
"Maybe," Martin said, "but nothing I can prove."
"Tell me what it is," Marilyn said.
He explained about the story Ann had told him, and about how it looked like Martin Lewis had done to set Lonnie up for stealing.
"You think this Lewis guy could have run the kid off the road, is that it?" Marilyn asked.
Martin nodded. "Maybe," he said, "but how the hell can we prove it? I mean, Lonnie's mother said he told her he was going out for a drive, but she didn't know where he was going. How would Lewis have known where he was?"
"Maybe Lewis was out driving around, too, and he stumbled onto the kid, followed him, and ran him off the road when he got a chance?" the trooper suggested.
"Yeah, but how do we prove it?" Martin asked.
"I don't know," Marilyn said. "I suppose I could go ask him."
Martin shook his head. "I'd rather you didn't do that right now," he said. "That might spook him, and I don't want to do that. I'm meeting with Sonny Dawson tomorrow...this...morning, to discuss a plan to bag Lewis for some of the other shit he's done. Maybe that will help us nail him for this, too."
"Whatever," Marilyn said. "You going to keep me posted?"
"Of course," Martin said. "You going to hang around here?"
"For a little while," she said. "If the kid doesn't wake up in an hour or so, I'll tell the hospital to call the office when he does and we can get a statement from him."
"OK," Martin said, standing up. "I'm going to head down to Jamestown PD and meet with Sonny. Then I've got to head over to Lincoln County, to my daughter's place."
"How come?" trooper Evans asked.
"There's someone else I need to tell about what happened to Lonnie Ames," he said. And that was a notification he dreaded making.
Before he left the hospital, Martin called his daughter, explained what happened, and asked her to do what she could to keep Ann from seeing any newspapers or hearing any news on the radio. He said he'd be up later in the day to tell Ann what happened to the young man in person.
"I'll do what I can, Dad," Melissa said.
Martin left the hospital and drove to Jamestown Police Headquarters. He, Sonny Dawson, and Luis Rivera from the Prosecuting Attorney's office discussed the case, and decided that the best way to get proof against Mark Lewis would be to see if they could somehow get him admitting it on tape. That would have to involve Ann, though. All of them felt it was very likely Lewis would gloat about what he'd done to her as a way of trying to cement his hold on her.
"That will put the lady in considerable danger, though," Luis said. "This guy sounds like he's really out of control. Especially if you're right about him running that kid off the road last night, Martin."
"We should be able to cover her, I think," Martin said, "if we have a team in the house, maybe a second team in the garage, and some detectives in cars near the house."
"What if the asshole brings a gun and just blows her away?" Sonny asked.
"We better make sure that doesn't happen," Martin said. "We could put her in a vest, that would help."
