Keep Quiet(96)

“What, you’re still alive? Get on with it, man. I have to call 911, but you don’t look dead enough.” Dr. Dave took the gun off the counter and walked to Jake, cocking his head as if he were thinking aloud. “I bet I could get away with another shot.”

“No,” Jake whispered, in terror.

“I could say I was afraid you could get up, in fear for my life.” Dr. Dave aimed the gun at Jake.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the front door.

Dr. Dave turned away, toward the sound.

And all hell broke loose.





Chapter Forty-seven


“NO!” Ryan bellowed, barreling into the kitchen with Pam at his heels.

“No” was all Jake could whisper, horrified they were in harm’s way.

Ryan took a flying leap at Dave and tackled him heavily to the ground. They both yelled and grunted, struggling for the gun. Suddenly a shot fired. Pam screamed.

Tears of fright sprang to Jake’s eyes. He didn’t know whether Ryan or Dave had been shot. He prayed to God for Ryan’s life. Pam burst into tears, covering her head with her hands.

Suddenly Ryan staggered to his feet, supporting himself on the kitchen island. Pam ran to his side, crying with relief. Dr. Dave remained on the floor, moaning and holding his shoulder.

Jake thanked God. He could’ve died a happy man at that moment, but Ryan and Pam rushed together at him.

“Jake, Jake!” Pam sobbed, throwing herself to the floor beside him. “Honey, the police will be here! I worried you got in a fight, when you didn’t answer! An ambulance is on the way! They should be here any minute!”

“Dad, don’t die, please don’t die!” Ryan bent over him, distraught. “I love you, Dad! I love you!”

Jake looked up at them, feeling weaker by the second. He wanted to tell them he loved them. He wanted to tell them to be happy without him, that nothing else mattered to him as much, on the face of the earth. “Pam,” he tried to say, but it came out fainter than a whisper.

“Honey, stay with us!” Pam embraced him, beginning to sob. “The ambulance will be here any minute!”

“Dad, don’t die, please, please!”

Jake could barely hear them. He felt himself slipping away. He flashed on the bag that Dr. Dave had put in the trunk of his car, with Voloshin’s laptop and phone. It contained the only evidence that connected Ryan to the hit-and-run. If Ryan and Pam disposed of it, nobody would ever know what had happened. If they gave it to the police, they would go to jail. He tried to say, “Ryan … trunk…”

“What, Dad?” Ryan bent over him, crying. “The trunk? Of the car?”

Jake managed a smile, closing his eyes. They would figure it out when they opened the trunk. They would decide what to do.

Jake knew what he would do, if he had a second chance. But he couldn’t say, and he’d have to leave the decision to them.

Because he was gone.





Chapter Forty-eight


Jake couldn’t keep his eyes open. He was bathed in light, warm on his face, and for a minute he didn’t know if he was alive or dead. He squinted around him and realized he was lying in a hospital room. Sunshine poured through the window and fell on his bed, in a glowing shaft of gold. He thanked God he was alive.

The room was empty, and he lay there, feeling horrible, exhausted and weak. His stomach throbbed with pain. He could think only slowly, as if his brain didn’t work. His throat felt raw and dry, it was hard to swallow. An IV shunt was taped to his hand, a plastic clip covered his index finger. Monitors glowed next to his bed, and the door to the room was open. He became aware that the hallway outside sounded busy. People were talking and carts rattled, a metallic sound. He could smell the faint aroma of coffee and eggs, mingling with institutional disinfectants. He wasn’t hungry.

He closed his eyes against the sun. He tried to remember how he had gotten here. He must be snowed under with painkillers. It must’ve been last night. Dave had shot him in the gut. He’d been bleeding, lying on the floor. He remembered Dave pointing the gun down at him, about to fire again. Then Ryan, rushing in. And Pam, crying at his side. His wife and son had saved his life.

Jake thought of something else. The bag of evidence in the trunk of his car. He wondered what Pam and Ryan had done with it, whether they had shown it to the police or gotten rid of it forever. They weren’t around, nobody was, so he figured they must have come clean to the cops and gone to prison.

His heart lurched at the thought, but they had done the right thing, in the end. He prayed that Ryan had been charged as a juvenile, not an adult, so Jake would bear the brunt of their punishment. He could accept going to prison, and he understood why it was necessary. He had lived why it was necessary. He had to take responsibility for Kathleen’s death, and he’d rather live with honesty in prison than live on the outside, in guilt and shame.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the doorway, and Pam, Ryan, and Detective Zwerling entered the room. Pam closed the curtains against the sunshine, then looked at Jake and did a double-take.

“Babe, are you awake? Thank God!” Pam crossed to his bedside, with Ryan next to her, breaking into a broad grin.

“Dad, how are you?”

“Fine,” Jake answered, hoarse. He assumed Pam and Ryan must have been out on bail. They were wearing the same clothes as yesterday, so they hadn’t even gone home. Or maybe they were released on Detective Zwerling’s recognizance, waiting to see what happened to him. Jake didn’t want to jump to the last possibility, which was that Pam and Ryan had hidden the evidence and hadn’t told the police, and they were all back at square one.