In a Heartbeat
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Janice Kay Johnson
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Chapter One
TRAFFIC WAS A BITCH, as always. Nate Kendrick ended one call when he was halfway across the I-90 bridge over Lake Washington and resigned himself to making the one he’d been putting off. Sonja would be pissed.
Nothing new about that.
She answered immediately, her tone suspicious. The minute she heard what he had to say, she screeched, “You always do this! What’s your excuse this time?”
“I’m putting together a deal. It was supposed to be a go today, but one of the major investors got cold feet overnight. I have to find a replacement.”
The silence unnerved him, since it was unlike her. Still quietly, she said, “Do you know how many thousand times I’ve heard that?”
“You knew what I did when you married me.” Venture capitalism was high-risk, high-adrenaline and sometimes high-flying, like when a company in his portfolio went public in a big way or sold to an industry leader for a billion or more. You did not succeed in the business by taking a working day off to accompany a mob of six-and seven-year-olds to the beach. Or was it a river park? Nate couldn’t remember.
“Some of us want an actual life.” She sounded sad. Playing him. “I, for one, want my daughter to love me enough to come home for Christmas when she’s an adult.”
“Goddamn it, Sonja,” he growled.
“We’ll be fine without you.”
Call ended.
Of course they would be. He loved his daughter, even as he knew she’d been slipping away from him since the divorce. But being one of two partners in a venture-capital firm meant demands that were never-ending. Who’d put Molly through college, if not him? Certainly not Sonja, who lived on her settlement from him. The settlement she wouldn’t get if he crashed and burned.
Traffic opened up enough for him to merge onto I-5 for the short distance into downtown Seattle. By then he’d already taken the next call, obliging him to accept a no answer with outward amiability. But he and this guy would do business together again, so he ignored another incoming call to chat about the investor’s son, excited about starting at Stanford this fall. Molly was ten years away from making any college decisions, thank God. Long practice let him think furiously as he talked.
What was his next best possibility? Stu Gribbin? He tended to like start-ups better than on-the-ground manufacturing, but it was worth a try.
Exiting from the freeway onto crowded streets hemmed in by tall buildings, Nate decided to wait to make the next call until he reached his office. He’d long since jettisoned his daughter’s summer day camp field trip from his mind.
* * *
HONESTLY, THIS WASN’T the most exciting outing the camp director could have planned, but Melissa might have chosen the park without actually having visited it.
Anna Grainger wasn’t complaining. Lounging on the picnic table bench with Kyle while the nearly forty kids ran off an excess of energy on the extensive mowed field was fine by her. From long habit, she kept an eye on her own two children—seven-year-old Josh and four-year-old Jenna—as well as the three additional kids she’d been assigned to supervise. All were buddies of Josh’s, participating along with him in a crazy soccer game that didn’t have any boundaries or rules she could see. Jenna had gravitated toward three or four other younger children also along for the field trip because their parents had volunteered to chaperone. Jenna didn’t have a shy bone in her body.
Anna reached for her water bottle and took a drink—tepid but wet. The coolers still held unopened cans of soda and bottles of water on ice that couldn’t have entirely melted, but she felt too lazy to get up.
“Couldn’t they just have taken the kids to a local school?” her husband asked idly, not at all put out. With his hands clasped behind his head and his legs outstretched, he didn’t look any more ambitious than she felt.
“You’d think so,” she agreed. “Except Melissa did promise we’d go down to the riverbank after lunch. There’s supposed to be a trail alongside.”
“It’s after lunch,” he pointed out.
“Mmm-hmm.” Wincing as Josh and another boy collided and crashed to the ground, she kept her eye on them until they jumped up, laughing and running back into the game.
“Some of the kids are heading that way,” Kyle observed. “Is anyone paying attention?”
Anna straightened, seeing that he was right. And, no, Melissa was refereeing a dispute between several quarrelsome boys, and Kimberly, one of the young assistants, had organized three-legged races that were winding up with most of the participants collapsed on the grass, giggling. Linda—no, she’d seen her escorting two girls to the bathroom facilities, such as they were.
“Maybe a parent,” she began uncertainly.
“I don’t see that little redhead.” Kyle sat up. “The girl?”
“Molly? Her mother’s here. She’s probably with—”
But she wasn’t. Anna spotted Molly’s mother, Shana—no, Sonja, that was it—right away, sitting at another picnic table texting or playing a game on her phone, her head bent over it. Molly had been in Josh’s class last year, and a couple times Anna had chatted casually with Sonja at special events.
Already on his feet, Kyle said, “I’ll go on ahead, just to be on the safe side. I can catch any eager beavers.” He set off at a trot across the field toward the band of trees along the Snoqualmie River.
For a second, she let her gaze linger on him. Unlike a lot of the other fathers, his body remained lean and athletic. By their mid-to late-thirties, so many men had started dressing to hide some softness around their waist, or had developed frown lines on their faces. Maybe stress did that; Kyle never seemed to feel a smidgen.
Disturbed by how acid that thought had been, Anna automatically checked on her daughter and the four boys. All were well.
A whistle shrilled and, like everyone else, she turned to the camp director. “Everyone, find your group leader! Time to head for the river, but stick with your adult.”
Kids who had been spread across the field, including those who had been drifting toward the river trail, ran back to the adults. Just as the boys and Jenna reached her, Anna heard a woman say, “Anyone see Molly?”
She turned. Sonja was scanning the area.
“A couple of the girls went to the bathroom,” another mother said.
“No, they’re back,” someone else said.
Anna stood. “Kyle thought some kids might have started toward the river, so he went ahead.”
The whistle blew again. “Everybody, freeze!”
The kids became as still as statues, eyes wide. “Parents, is anyone from your group missing? Do you have an extra?”
Kids and parents sorted themselves out. Only one child was missing: Molly Kendrick, who, with that bright head of hair, would have stood out, anyway.
Hyperventilating, Sonja cried, “But I was watching! I just...”
Just let her attention stray. Which almost any parent did on occasion, although this was a poor time and place to take her eyes off not only her daughter, but also the other three children she was supposed to supervise.
Skin tight beside her eyes, the middle-aged director, a wiry, energetic woman, said, “Anna, can you take my group, too, while I make sure your husband has found Molly?”
“You bet.” Smiling, she collected the additional three girls and said, “Okay, let’s start that way, but stay together.”
Melissa jogged ahead, disappearing into the trail through the trees. The rest of them followed in a clump.
Where was Kyle? If he’d located Molly, Anna thought he’d have ushered her back to join the group. On a tinge of fear, Anna glanced over her shoulder at the parking lot. Could Molly have wandered that way? Been lured into a car? The river wasn’t the only frightening possibility.
Seeing that Jenna was lagging, Anna said, “How about a piggyback ride, kiddo?”
“I’m tired.” She still napped and, really, had held out well today, considering.
Anna crouched to let her climb on, after which she walked faster. The older kids had no trouble keeping up. The nine of them reached the trail first, plunging into the cool, shadowy depths beneath the trees.
A minute later, José said, “Did you hear that?”
“No—” But then she did. It sounded like sobbing. She broke into a run, the kids thundering behind her.
She saw the river first, green and higher than it should have been in late June. All the rivers were, after the exceptionally rainy spring and early summer they’d had. Close to the shore, the water was clear enough for her to see rocks beneath the surface, which seemed placid, except...well, those ripples might be deceptive.
The supposed riverbank trail seemed to be partially overgrown with blackberries and other nuisances like salmonberries. But a small beach allowed passage along the water.
The screams reached a crescendo. Jenna bouncing on her back, Anna raced upstream toward Melissa, who crouched with her arms around the sobbing girl. Oh, dear heavens—Molly was soaked, head to toe. She’d gone into the water. Anna’s next thought was overwhelming relief. They’d come so close to a tragedy.
Somebody brushed by her. Sonja. She raced to her daughter and dropped to her knees. “What were you thinking? You know the rules!”
Molly cast herself into her mother’s arms and cried even harder.
Melissa straightened, her gaze going to Anna as she waited for her to approach.
Only then did Anna feel a faint drumbeat of apprehension. Where was Kyle? Shouldn’t he be here, too? Unless, once he was sure Molly was safe, he’d gone looking for other strays...
But she knew. She knew, even before Melissa drew her away from the boys, who stared in fascination at the girl who would be in so much trouble.
“Molly says—” Melissa swallowed. “She says she was being swept away, but Josh’s daddy went in the water after her. That he threw her toward the bank, but when she turned around he was being carried downstream. Then she couldn’t see him at all. He’s probably made it to shore somewhere, but I called 911 to be on the safe side.”
Anna began to tremble. “Kyle can’t swim.”
* * *
NATE IGNORED THE first two calls from his ex. He was having an intense conversation with another of his “angel” investors, who was on the fence about taking this opportunity.
“Send me what your analysts have, and I’ll take a look. But you know I’m leery of anything geared to the young twenties. Hell, I don’t understand most of it. Or them.”
Nate laughed. “Who does? But the money is in that market, whether we like to admit it or not.”
“Yeah, yeah,” John Reynolds grumbled, a note of humor in his voice. “Let me look, and I’ll call you back.”
“Good enough.”
Just as he ended the call, Nate heard the beep of yet another call coming in.
And, yes, it was his ex-wife again. What, she needed to let him know what a good time they were having without him? Irritated, Nate answered nonetheless.
“Sonja?”
“Nate, you know we were visiting a riverside park.” Her voice shook. “Molly sneaked away and waded out into the river. She...she got pulled out into the current. One of the fathers went in after her and managed to push her to a gravel bar. But Nate...he didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“And you couldn’t even answer your phone!”
Sidestepping the accusation, he said, “Molly. Is she okay?”
“She’s hysterical, how do you think she is?” Sonja’s voice was thickened by what had likely been a storm of tears. “We’re on our way to the hospital. She swallowed water and... I don’t know. She wants her daddy,” she said bitterly.
He seriously doubted Molly had expressed any such desire. Since the divorce, she’d grown increasingly shy with him. Each time he took her for a weekend, she acted as if she was being palmed off on a stranger.
He said simply, “Overlake Hospital?”
Background voices told him Sonja wasn’t alone with their daughter, thank God. She came back. “Yes.”
He strode out of the office. “I’m on my way. Wait for me there.” Pausing only to tell his assistant that he had an emergency, he went down the hall to the elevator.
As it dropped to the parking garage, Nate saw that he had missed texts, too. He’d felt the phone vibrating, but that was normal—texts piled up all day. This time, there were three from Sonja. The last one was all caps, multiple exclamation points.
MOLLY ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!!! WHY WON’T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE????
Shit.
At least it was early enough that traffic should still flow. Tension riding him, he pushed the speed limit, weaving in and out, risking a ticket during this reverse commute to the Eastside of Lake Washington. Molly almost died because of you!!! What about the man who’d rescued his daughter? Had somebody really died, or had that been Sonja hyperbole?
Pain shot up his neck, wrapping around his temples and forehead. Fear, regret, guilt—they all churned in his belly.
He didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.
Overlake Hospital overlooked Highway 405 in Bellevue. Even so, after exiting the freeway Nate had to make several turns before he reached the parking garage beneath the hospital. Frustrated at each red light, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. In the garage, he took the first available open slot, ran for the elevator and rode up to the ground-floor emergency services.
A dozen people sat scattered throughout the waiting room, but Nate saw Sonja and Molly immediately, merged into one with his daughter on Sonja’s lap, head on her shoulder.
Sinking into the chair beside them, he said huskily, “Kiddo. How are you?”
The distress in Molly’s big eyes felt like a sucker punch to Nate’s belly. Instead of answering, she buried her head against her mother’s neck so she didn’t have to see him. Maybe it hadn’t been a punch. A knife twisting, instead.
Staring straight ahead, Sonja didn’t want to look at him, either, but she said in a near monotone, “The doctor says she swallowed a lot of water, that’s all. Mostly, she was petrified. I’d take her home, except I was too upset to drive. My car is still at the park. I’ll have to take a taxi.”
He ignored that. Of course he wouldn’t let her take a taxi, and she knew it. “What about the man? Was he brought here, too?”
Very slowly her head turned. Her eyes blazed, her lip curled. “So they could bring him back from the dead?”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh. “He really died?”
“You think I just said that?”
“No. I hoped they’d pulled him out.”
“They did. Dead.”
A man had died rescuing Nate’s daughter. Because I wasn’t there.
“Who is—” Oh, hell. “Who was he?”
“Kyle Grainger. His son, Josh, was in Molly’s class last year. Both of Josh’s parents came today.”
The searing words were bad enough, but the hatred in her eyes...
No wonder Molly had become so skittish around Nate. What had Sonja been telling his daughter about him?
“Is she here?” he managed to say. “Josh’s mother?”
“How would I know?”
What would he have said, anyway? I’ll come to your husband’s funeral in thanks for him saving my kid’s life?
“All right,” he said. “We can go pick up your car if you feel up to driving. If not, I’ll take you home. If you’ll give me the keys, I’ll have somebody bring it to your place.”
“Mr. Fixit,” she jeered. “But why not? Molly needs to go home, not drive all over the county.”
She was right, of course. Maybe he did suck at being a parent. He loved his daughter, though, and he’d have sworn she loved him, too. He worked long hours, but he’d spent a great deal of his off time with Molly. The one who had been shorted was Sonja, but he’d expected her to understand. But, hey, probably his marriage had been over a lot longer than he’d known.
Standing, he reached out for Molly. “Let me carry her.”
“No!” Shielding their little girl with her body, Sonja struggled to her feet. “She needs her mother. Just take us home. Then you can go back to work.”
Aware that people were staring, he clenched his teeth and said nothing. He might go back to work. Clearly, Sonja wouldn’t be inviting him in so he could talk to Molly about her terrifying experience. His beautiful house wasn’t much anymore but a place where he slept. He’d have happily let Sonja have it, but she’d wanted only money.
“If I stayed in this house, I’d keep thinking you might walk in the door anytime.” Her ringing endorsement of their marriage.
He walked beside his ex-wife and daughter down the corridor to the elevator. Molly clung to her mother and didn’t once look at him.
They had the elevator to themselves until it stopped at the lobby level, where the doors opened. A lone woman waited, blond hair falling out of an elastic, strands straggling around her too-pale, fine-boned face. She looked drained, as if she couldn’t summon the will to so much as step into the elevator even if she had pushed the button to call it.
Instinct drove Nate to take a step toward her. As he did, her vacant stare shifted from him to Sonja and Molly. Horror took over her face. Her eyes fastened on him, and she lurched back. The next thing he knew, she was hurrying away, walking faster and faster.
The elevator doors tried to close but bounced back open with him in the way. He didn’t move. It tried again, and finally he stepped back.
Not looking at Sonja, he said, “That was her, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
An impassive expression was his default. Inside, he’d been shredded. His heart raced. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the way the new widow had looked at him.
