Author's Note: Not much to say here, except, "Please don't hurt me" and another massive "Thank you" for all the likes so far. Your support for this story so far is much appreciated.
***
To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.
- Ps. 113
***
Chapter 5
Moving Target
The Hudson Hawk: Your Eye on Hudson
A BLOG
Is It Foul Play in Briar Ridge Owner's Death?
Thursday, May 2, 2019
Anyone who knows anything about Hudson has heard about Briar Ridge and the late Val Stanton. She was a well-respected pillar of the community who supported various causes and elevated the sport of showjumping. Her death comes as a shock, especially due to the unpleasant circumstances surrounding it.
Authorities have been slow to finger any suspects, nor have they publicly speculated about possible motives. It would seem they would rather chalk this one up to an unfortunate hunting accident than entertain the notion it could be willful homicide.
This blogger finds it hard to believe her death was accidental. There have been recent reports of bears in the Hudson area, but only a visually impaired hunter mistakes a woman on a horse for a bear. A woman on a horse also cannot be confused for cougars, wolves, coyotes or any other type of prey animal a concerned rancher or farmer might have cause to take down.
I mean, sure, an errant bullet is a possibility, but if so, Stanton would have to have been especially unlucky to be struck by a round so far off the mark. Furthermore, Hudson police have been unable to find any proof of active hunters in the general vicinity of the fatal incident.
The question, then, is who would want Stanton dead?
Facts so far, as reported by the press:
1) Stanton went for a ride on a horse by herself on the morning of her death.
2) Stanton did not return by the expected time.
3) Family members reported her missing, citing the particular urgency of Stanton's health as a reason for concern.*
4) Stanton's body found early the next morning at Lookout Point by a Hudson resident out for a ride.
5) Coroner determines cause of death to be a single gunshot wound; Stanton fell from her mount, causing further trauma, but the injuries sustained in the fall did not ultimately contribute to her demise.
*I've been unable to find out exactly what "health" issue might have been troubling Stanton, but sources close to this blogger say she had fought two bouts of cancer in the past decade. It should also be noted that one need not wait a specific time frame in order to file a missing-persons report in the province of Alberta (i.e., 24 or 48 hours).
Comments? Theories? Let me know in the comments below.
I've got my eye on you, Hudson.
- Hudson Hawk
Sign in to leave a comment or comment as a Guest.
Comment: The Hudson Times said the horse Stanton was riding was attacked by a bear. Do you know anything more about this, Hawk?
-Animal_LuvR
Reply: I can confirm the story the horse was attacked by a bear. I'm told it is in a safe place now and being treated, but I cannot reveal my source.
- Hawk
Reply: Okay, thanks. Is the horse going to be alright?
-Animal_LuvR
Reply: My source tells me he is in expert care and will most likely make a full recovery.
- Hawk
Reply: Good. Thanks!
-Animal_LuvR
Comment: No theories, but just want to say it's crazy what happened. I hope the cops get to the bottom of this. This used to be such a safe place to live.
- A Hudson Rez.
Reply: Hey "A Hudson Rez". I noticed your handle. You're not the "Hudson resident" they talked about in the papers who found the body, are you?
- Guest
Reply: No, totally not. Why?
- A Hudson rez
Reply: OK, thanks. Just curious.
- Guest
***
"Okay, I'm heading off to my investors meeting in Calgary," Lisa said as she flew through the kitchen towards the mud room, pausing as Jack turned from the sink to catch up with her. He planted a kiss on her cheek and bid her a safe drive. "Good luck talking with those detectives today while I'm away."
"Thanks, I think I'll be okay," Jack said, noting the hint of warning in her voice. He had heard all about how uncomfortable the investigators had made her feel the week before during her own interview. "What time do you expect to be back?"
"In time for a late afternoon glass of wine with you," she said, eyes dancing merrily. "I'll text if I'm delayed."
Jack gave the phone at his hip a pat. "I'll make sure it's on," he said.
"Yes, you've got a lot better at that, Mr. Bartlett, haven't you?"
"What are you insinuating?" he retorted with mock indignation.
Lisa's mouth twisted into a playful smile as she swallowed a chuckle. "Oh, nothing."
"All right, all right, I know my track record has been the pits when it comes to these things," Jack said, raising his hands in submission. "But it is on, and I will be paying attention."
"Good. And on that note, I'm off."
"Love you," Jack said.
"Love you more," Lisa responded sweetly, then was out the door.
***
Traffic on the Range Road was seldom busy, and today was no exception. Lisa counted maybe two other vehicles that passed her along the way; none from the opposite direction. She knew she could expect to hit heavier volumes once she reached Calgary, which was one reason she left Heartland with enough of a buffer to ensure she was not late for the meeting.
The nature of the meeting would be more serious in nature than others in the past. It would be the first time the group of investors would be meeting since Val died, meaning there was an empty spot Tanner Gunn would be looking to fill. Fortunately, someone was willing to do just that: Jesse Stanton.
Val's death sure has brought about a real change in Jesse, Lisa thought. She admittedly never had dealings with the heir to Briar Ridge, but with his mother gone, Jesse seemed to be willing to step up to the plate and continue as an investor with Tanner Gunn's group. Lisa had heard stories of how miserable Jesse had tried to make life for Ty once upon a time; that immature, vindictive phase was clearly behind him.
He would be in attendance today; one major item on the agenda would be the rather perfunctory business of naming Jesse as Val's replacement in their group. Other items included the possibility of raising the reward money amount for information leading to an arrest and conviction in Lanny and Paige's murders.
It's so terrible the police have nothing after all this time, Lisa mused sadly. And now Val... Thinking of the seeming lack of progress in Chief Parker's investigation, she wondered if Tessa Haywood, Jesse's girlfriend, was simply blowing smoke when she bragged Jesse was planning to hire a private investigator to look into his mother's death.
Maybe it's something Paige's parents ought to be doing, Lisa thought, knowing the case had gone cold in Calgary. Maybe I should suggest it at the meeting. Maybe we could offer to put up money to hire a P.I., instead of raising the reward.
From some distant point behind her, the obnoxious roar of a motorcycle reached Lisa's ears. A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed it: a lone rider approaching at a clip. Lisa kept glancing at her mirrors to keep tabs on this motorcyclist's movements. A few moments later, she watched as he pulled out into the oncoming traffic lane, then pulled back in behind her.
Is he trying to pass? Lisa wondered. She purposely let up on the accelerator so the rider could safely go by. When he didn't, she lowered her window and stuck out her arm, waving to encourage him; nothing was approaching them at this time from the opposite direction.
"It's clear," Lisa muttered more to herself, since she knew he could not possibly hear her over the roar of the bike's engine. Again, the motorcyclist swerved out, only to inexplicably pull back in behind.
What is he doing? she thought in borderline annoyance. She had already reduced her speed; maybe letting up some more would embolden him. Once more, Lisa released the pressure on the gas pedal; beckoned through the window more insistently now.
"I'm fifteen under the limit, buddy," she spoke out loud, voice heavy with exasperation, "if you're going to go—"
No sooner had she said this did the motorcyclist put on a burst of speed. He pulled abreast of her, keeping pace with the Porsche. Lisa glanced to her left, taking in the rider's dark leather jacket, mirrored helmet, and the pricey-looking bike. His head turned in her direction, but he still did not overtake. Lisa gave a slight shrug before returning her attention to the road ahead. If he did not want to go past, that was his business. He would only be risking a head-on collision if someone did happen to come up ahead on the road.
Lisa glanced at him yet again, still puzzled and now growing annoyed at his unusual actions. Is he trying to play "chicken"? she thought. An incline was in the distance, and she wondered if he would ever pass, as it would be dangerous to attempt on a hill. His right hand now clutched a pistol, which was pointed at her. Lisa's breath caught in her throat, instant fright replacing her annoyance. Instinctively, Lisa twisted the steering wheel to the right in a desperate attempt to veer away from the threat.
Two shots rang out.
The Porsche careened off the road into the ditch, its engine racing for several seconds before finally cutting off.
The would-be assassin continued down the road towards the incline without stopping as he shoved the weapon back inside his breast pocket. He instantly regretted the action, having misjudged how hot the piece had become after firing it, nearly yelping in pain when the metal radiated scorching heat through his jacket and shirt.
He chanced a final glance behind him at the wreck; the thought crossing his mind that he should perhaps turn back to see if he had been successful in carrying out his deadly objective. As he reached the hill's summit, he cursed himself when a horn blared. What seemed to be an inevitable collision with a pickup truck was avoided by mere inches as he finally pulled back into his proper lane.
In a flash, he realised he recognized that pickup before it vanished from sight behind the hill: it belonged to the Hudson veterinarian, Dr. Scott Cardinal. One side of his twisted brain urged him to turn back and kill Cardinal, too, but the more rational side prevailed. There were too many risks and unknowns at play now. What if someone else happened upon them? It was not worth it. So he rode on, anxious to put as much distance between himself and this job. In any case, Cardinal wouldn't be able to identify him. He was safe. But if the veterinarian did somehow become a threat, he would not be difficult to find…
***
"Scott, watch out!" Ty shouted in warning as they crested the hill.
Scott's heart skipped a beat when the guy on the motorbike narrowly avoided being splattered all over his windshield.
"Idiot," Scott spat in disgust, watching in the rear-view mirror as the retreating rider slipped from view behind the hill. His heart nearly skipped another beat when he saw a familiar silver-grey SUV sunk in the ditch just up ahead on the left.
Ty saw it, too. "Wait, I think that's Lisa's," he said, cold dread drenching him.
Scott eased up on the gas and pressed the brakes, bringing his truck to a complete stop while activating his emergency flashers. It could only be Lisa's; it had to be. No one else in Hudson drove that exact make and model in that colour. Even if it was not Lisa, the pair would certainly have halted to assist any accident victims.
"Ty, call for help!"
In seconds, Scott had snatched some gloves from his vet kit and hopped from the cab of the truck. He pulled on the gloves as he sprinted across the road towards the SUV. There was no discernible motion from within. Scott reached the driver's side window, which was still rolled down.
"Lisa?!" he called.
What he saw caused him to reach in to unlock and yank open the driver's side door in one frantic pull, willing himself not to panic or lose his focus. Lisa was slumped over the steering wheel, face partially obscured by the folds of the deflated airbag. The upper portion of the left sleeve of her dark grey blazer was saturated with blood.
"Lisa! Can you hear me?"
No response. He reached over to feel along the carotid artery; listened closely to determine if she was breathing. Her breath seemed shallow and laboured. Pulse? There it was: rapid, but barely perceptible beneath his gloved fingers. His attention quickly returned to the perfectly round wound to Lisa's upper arm, the first obvious source of the blood. Scott immediately squeezed his hands around her arm just above the site, applying as much pressure as he could manage, hoping to stop the flow.
"Ty!" he barked over his shoulder. "Grab our kits and get over here!"
He realised they would need to apply a tourniquet as soon as possible. At first, Scott could not figure how such an injury could have occurred in a car accident, since there was no evidence of shrapnel or anything of the sort. For a second, he flashed back to the thigh injury he sustained in the plane crash from several years ago. Nothing like that appeared to be the reason behind Lisa's trauma. It began to dawn on Scott there was already far too much blood soaking Lisa's blazer to have been caused by a single entry site. With the utmost care, he shifted her arm for a closer examination. What he saw caused his spirits to sink further: another perfectly round hole in Lisa's side that matched the ones perforating her left bicep.
"Scott, is she okay?"
Ty stood next to his mentor now, trying not to crowd him; his own hands currently wearing protective gloves as he lugged the kits over and set them down. He unclipped his cell and activated the speaker function, waiting for the 911 operator to answer.
Scott's face was grim. "Ty, I think Lisa's been shot."
"Shot?!" Ty echoed in dismay, angling for a closer look into the SUV. "What—are you sure?"
"It went through her arm and into her side," Scott said, throat constricting as he tried to swallow; his mouth bone dry. "It's pretty bad."
"911, what is your emergency?"
Ty shook himself after seeing the streaks of blood on Scott's own gloved hands which were still clenched firmly around Lisa's arm.
"Yes, I'm at the site of an automobile accident on Range Road 292 heading south towards Hudson," he answered the dispatcher. "Uh, a woman has been badly hurt."
"Okay, sir. What is your name, and can you confirm how many people are involved in the accident?"
"I'm Ty Borden—I'm a vet; I'm with Dr. Scott Cardinal," he stated. "The woman is Lisa Stillman. She's the only one hurt. We just found her. She's not conscious but she's bleeding pretty badly from, uh, from what looks like a gunshot wound."
If the 911 operator was fazed by what Ty described, her voice did not betray it.
"Thank you, Dr. Borden. We're dispatching police and ambulance services to your location right now. Did you say Dr. Scott Cardinal is with you?"
"Yes," Ty confirmed. "He can hear you; I've got you on speaker."
"Scott, it's Heather LaPlante," announced the dispatcher. "You're my vet. I know you guys are animal doctors, but your medical training will still be extremely useful here."
There came a series of additional questions and instructions from Heather, clarifying the extent of Lisa's injuries, and what more the two veterinarians could do to keep her alive.
"Don't move her unless it's absolutely necessary," Heather cautioned, once she had verified from Scott that Lisa was still breathing and a pulse was present. "Is the bullet wound a puncture or perforation?"
"Both," Scott advised. "The bullet perforated her left arm through the bicep and punctured her side—the ribcage. No discernible exit wound."
"Then the bullet is still inside her somewhere," Heather remarked in a matter-of-fact manner, but both men heard an edge of anxiety colouring her words. "You said her breath sounds are labored and the pulse is rapid, so you could be dealing with a pneumothorax. If you haven't already done so, you and Dr. Borden need to apply a tourniquet immediately to her arm, and you've got to deal with that side chest wound until more help arrives."
"Scott," Ty interjected with urgency, "the air bag. Look."
Scott took a moment to follow his protégé's gaze. His stomach flipped. A red stain bloomed ominously on the white material of the air bag below Lisa's face. "Ty, you gotta check her for a head or face injury," he said. "I don't want to let go of her arm until we can get the tourniquet."
"What's happening?" asked Heather, having heard the exchange.
"The air bag deployed when she crashed," Scott explained to the dispatcher, "but we're seeing bloodstains. It looks like she sustained a head injury on impact, or…" His voice trailed off, not wanting to voice the alternative. He knew they were all thinking the same thing, anyway.
There was barely room for Ty to maneuver. He clipped the phone back to the holder on his belt so as to have both hands free for this next action. The way the Porsche was angled in the ditch meant it would be impossible to gain access through the passenger-side door, so Ty popped the lock on the backseat door. Once inside, he squeezed himself over the console between the front seats to get closer to Lisa.
Life over limb, Ty thought grimly, as he cautiously supported the neck of the still-unconscious woman while raising her head for Scott to get a closer look.
"What do you see, Scott?" he asked, straining to keep proper support from his awkward position.
A bloody welt, gory and deep red in colour, showed plainly on Lisa's pale skin, just below the hairline, an inch above her left eye. Blood was now streaming down, darkening her left eyebrow, lid, and eyelashes. A single rivulet crept its way down her cheek; droplets stained the collar of her light blue blouse.
Scott sighed, his apprehension ramping up even higher. "She's been shot in the head, too, Ty. That ambulance had better get here fast."
Ty blinked hard. "Heather, I'm going to lean her back so her face isn't pressed into the steering wheel."
"Okay, do it gently as possible, always supporting her neck."
"Right."
Once this action was complete, he dashed out of the SUV and snapped open the vet kits. After withdrawing the necessary items, he and Scott applied a neat tourniquet to Lisa's left arm. Knowing they might need to shift Lisa to address the wound to her side, Ty reached in to unbuckle the seatbelt and carefully snaked it back to its original position.
"Make sure you keep paying close attention to her breathing and pulse, Scott," Heather warned. "Let me know right away if anything changes. If her chest cavity fills up with too much air, her lungs could collapse… and she could die right there before the paramedics can get to her. Here's what you have to do immediately to buy her some time..."
***
"All right, everybody's here except Lisa Stillman," Tanner Gunn said, calling the investors' group meeting to order.
"Yeah, that's Lisa—always on her own timetable, never mind what everyone else is doing," Dan Hartfield said disparagingly.
"Really?" Tanner remarked, turning to look at the other man. "I hadn't ever noticed that about your ex-wife, Dan. As I recall, she's normally early for these meetings."
"I'll send her a text," Dan grumbled, having been caught in his lie.
"Car trouble, maybe?" Fred Garland posited with a frown.
"That Porsche of hers is over ten years old," muttered Dan, still tapping on his phone, "but it's in excellent condition. I'll see if she responds to my message."
"I say we just start the meeting and get her up to speed when she arrives," Stanley Belmont, owner and operator of the Hudson Funeral Home said impatiently.
Emma Fitzroy nodded. "I agree. We have quorum in any case, and since we're not deciding on any new investment opportunities this meeting, we don't need any unanimous votes."
"Any objections from anyone, then?" Tanner asked, looking around the room. The members, plus newcomer Jesse Stanton, were all shaking their heads in the negative. "No objections. Good. Let's get a recap of the last meeting's minutes to start. Hopefully that gives Lisa enough time to get here before we move onto the first item of business on the agenda, which is namely you, Jesse..."
***
Jack heard the unexpected approach of a car. This was unusual, since he knew Lisa could not possibly be back at this time, and it was early still for his appointment with the detectives. He peeked out the kitchen window, mildly surprised to see it was indeed a police cruiser. It pulled to a stop and parked in the spot normally occupied by Lisa's Porsche. Are they here already? Jack thought. He was further surprised to see both Jim Parker and Ty exiting the vehicle. A strange disquiet stirred in the pit of his stomach. Some instinct told him this was not going to be a social call from the Hudson chief of police. He did not wait for the knock and instead opened the door right away for the two men.
Ty let the senior officer go ahead of him, unable to meet Jack's eyes. He was thankful Chief Parker was there and would do all the talking.
"Jim, it's good to see you," Jack said heartily, offering a firm handshake.
"Jack," Jim replied cordially, though his manner was reserved as he tried for some professional detachment.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked Jack uneasily, his eyes wandering momentarily to Ty, who continued to avert his gaze. The younger man hung back, unsure now if he ought to be present for this. But no, he thought, Jack needed his support. Better to stay.
"Let's sit down first, please?" Jim implored, nodding towards the kitchen table. "Ty, you can join us, too."
Jack offered the chief something to drink while he pulled out a chair for him to sit down. Jim politely declined. The old cowboy rounded the table to take the place opposite. Ty mutely took up a third spot at the table to Jack's oblique left.
The Bartlett patriarch sensed something must be terribly amiss but could not quite make any sense of both Ty and Chief Parker's presence. He tamped down the rising tide of foreboding. "All right; what's this about?"
"I'm here because your wife—Lisa has been in an accident," Jim said plainly.
The words slammed into Jack like a gale-force wind, knocking the breath from his lungs. "Wha-? An accident?" His eyes flew once again to Ty for an explanation or some kind of confirmation of the chief's news. "Is she all right?"
"She's still alive, but her condition is critical. They've taken her to the South Calgary Health Campus," Jim replied evenly. "But, Jack, there's more."
Ty sucked in a sharp breath, knowing full well what "more" Chief Parker was referring to.
All kinds of dark memories engulfed a dumbstruck Jack; images and emotions from the night a similar conversation occurred between him and another officer about Marion and Amy.
"It wasn't merely an 'accident'," Jim continued, monitoring the other man's features carefully. "Someone shot your wife."
The words were so incongruous, Jack needed Jim to repeat them. "Excuse me, but did you just say someone shot my wife?" he exclaimed, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Ty covered his own mouth with his hand, remembering the sight of an unconscious, injured Lisa in the seat of her SUV.
"That's correct," Jim acknowledged.
"But—who? W-why?" Jack sputtered, rising from his chair, staring at the chief as his heart clenched painfully within. Rage soon replaced the disbelief as he imagined tearing to pieces the person who had dared harm his wife in this way.
"We don't have any suspects right now," Jim said calmly, noting how Jack's face had deeply reddened and how his hands were gripping the back of the chair. "I was actually hoping you might be able to help with that."
"How could I possibly 'help'?!" Jack snapped. Someone had shot his wife. She was in critical condition in the hospital, and Chief Parker was keeping him here, insinuating he might know who did it.
"Can you think of anybody who might want to hurt her? Does Lisa have any enemies?"
"'Enemies'? Lisa?!" echoed Jack, his voice rising from its usual gravelly timbre to a higher, incredulous pitch. The idea was absurd. "No!"
"Forgive me for having to ask," Parker said soothingly. "I know she is in the high-stakes racehorse breeding business. Have there been any disgruntled clients or staff? Jealous rivals? Think carefully, now."
Jack lowered himself into his chair once more. He attempted to focus; he forced his voice to speak something coherent. "Jim, you've met my wife. She's one of the kindest, most generous people I've known my whole life. She would rather sell her vacation home in France than let go her staff when she was going through a rough financial patch. That's the kind of person she is. Of course she has no enemies!"
If Parker was disappointed with this response, he did not let on. However, he did not give voice to what he was thinking: Very seldom in his experience did he encounter a person who went through life without upsetting someone else. The question, then, was if Lisa Stillman had ever upset someone else enough to want to end her life.
"Um… There was this jockey…" Ty murmured.
Jim turned to look at him expectantly. Jack glanced over in surprise, having nearly forgotten Ty was there.
"Go on, Ty," Jim encouraged.
"His name's Liam," Ty said, clearing his throat. "Liam Comox. He once jockeyed for Lisa. Amy and I—we suspected him of using an illegal shock device on one of the horses that was acting up. Lisa found a bunch of buzzers among his possessions and fired him. She also reported him to the Steward's Office. He was barred from racing."
"When was this?" asked the chief eagerly, seizing on this potential lead.
Ty considered. "Uh, maybe eight or nine years ago?"
A dubious expression replaced the hopeful one on Jim's face. "Hmm. Do you think he's still hanging around and holds a grudge against Lisa after all this time?"
Ty expelled a breath. "I don't know," he said with an honest shrug. "That is a pretty long time to be nursing a grudge. As for where he is now, I have no idea."
"Thank you, Ty. This is definitely something we'll be looking into," Parker said, scribbling down the details provided.
He turned now to Jack. "Thanks for answering my questions. If anything else occurs to you that you think might be important, I want you to call me right away, okay, Jack? No matter how insignificant you may think it is."
"I will," Jack said, rising as Jim stood up to leave.
"The same goes for you, Ty," Parker added, placing his card on the table. "I know you gave us a statement at the accident site, but if you think of anything else—something you remember that you didn't tell us—you call us."
"Okay," Ty replied with a nod.
"I'm sorry we had to meet again like this, Jack," Parker said with sincerity. "I don't like it when things like this happen under my jurisdiction, especially so soon after what happened to Valerie Stanton. You have my word my team and I will be nose to the grindstone to bring the responsible party to justice."
Jack was almost too numb to speak but managed a feeble "Thank you."
"I'll be in touch, Jack. There's bound to be more questions at a later time. You have my best wishes for a speedy recovery for your wife. Now, I'll see myself out," the chief said as he made his way over to the mud room.
Once the door shut behind the Hudson chief of police, Jack turned his attention to Ty. The numbness receded as his mind begged for more details. "Ty, what the hell is going on?" he hissed. "What is this about your giving a statement at the 'accident site'? How come you were with Chief Parker?"
"Because Scott and I were the ones who found Lisa," Ty answered, eyes downcast. "Her Porsche went off the road."
"And?" Jack prodded, his heart again screaming in pain while his mind conjured up horrific images of his wife trapped inside a mangled vehicle. "Don't you dare B.S. me, either, Ty. You tell me everything you know."
"It's—It's bad, Jack," Ty admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "We must have got there almost right after it happened. She, uh, wasn't conscious when Scott got to her. We could see one bullet wound to her left arm. That one did the most damage. It actually went through the arm into her side. No exit wound, so…"
"What else?" Jack demanded, steeling himself for what he feared he might hear next.
"There was another bullet wound to her forehead," Ty replied slowly, pointing out the approximate location on his own head. "I know that doesn't sound good, but when the paramedics arrived and got her out of the SUV, I think they were optimistic the bullet didn't actually penetrate her skull."
"Jeez," Jack breathed out, unable to articulate anything further.
"Scott and I applied a tourniquet to her arm. Sealed up the chest wound with gauze and… it's possible she could have a collapsed or punctured lung," Ty added reluctantly. "But she was still breathing when the paramedics and police got there, then Chief Parker arrived."
"I need to get to her right now," Jack stated resolutely, already moving to exit the house.
"I'll take you," Ty rushed to say. "You're in no state of mind to drive, Jack. Don't argue with me on this one, please."
Jack gave a swift nod without pausing in his tracks. "Fine," he grunted, tossing his keys to Ty. "Let's go!"
***
The drive out to the hospital was filled with a stifling tension. Ty dared not say a word while Jack sat in stony silence next to him. By the set of his jaw, Ty knew Jack was seething in mental torment and emotional anguish. Only once did Jack say something when they reached Calgary city limits and were minutes from the South Calgary Health Campus: "If she dies, I will kill the bastard responsible."
Ty sent a cautious glance over at the man who had become like a father to him. He saw a deadly resolve in the older man's lined face; his words clearly not an idle threat. Ty felt a chill pass through him at the thought Jack might actually resort to murder to avenge Lisa. He wanted to say something to get Jack off that destructive thought pattern but held his tongue for the time being. Had Ty not almost beaten Wade to death for his abusive actions towards Lily? He understood well that blinding rage and irrepressible need to exact justice for wrongs committed against innocent loved ones. The irrational emotion gripping Jack would eventually run its course—or at least Ty hoped it would—and there was still the chance Lisa would pull through.
