Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(2)

“Please don’t do this,” Celia pleaded with her husband between sobs. “Not yet. Don’t leave me.”

Debra Nixon, the lead agent on Scotty’s detail, appeared in the doorway, probably after having been told of Sam’s sprint. “What can I do?” She assessed the situation with sharp eyes.

Sam held the phone to the side. “Tell the agents at the checkpoint to let in EMS.”

“Done. What else?”

“Ask the agents at the house to keep an eye on the kids? Don’t let Scotty come over here.” Dear God, Scotty… He adored his gramps. All at once, Sam couldn’t breathe as the potential magnitude of what was happening registered, leaving her staggered, her legs nearly buckling under her. Somehow she remained standing, but only because Celia needed her to keep it together. Inside, she crumbled.

“EMS has arrived,” the operator said. “I’ll pray for your family, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you.” Sam slapped the phone closed.

Debra went to let in the paramedics, who brought equipment and badly needed competence. They immediately took over, tending to Skip as Sam and Celia stood with their arms wrapped around each other. Watching one of her worst fears play out, Sam wondered if she might be dreaming this. It had to be a dream because the possibility that this could be real was too frightening and heartbreaking to entertain.

The lead paramedic looked to Sam and Celia. “Has he had any recent health issues?”

“Nothing other than the paralysis and a persistent urinary tract infection.” Celia dabbed at her tears with a tissue. “He’s been on antibiotics for that.”

“Has he ever been unresponsive like this?”

“No.” Celia shook her head. “Never.”

Sam knew she should call her sisters but couldn’t bring herself to move or do anything other than hope and pray.

The paramedic listening to her father’s heart shook his head, and the other one sprang into action, setting up a portable defibrillator. Seeing the paddles and understanding what they were doing snapped Sam out of the dreamlike trance she’d slipped into as the surreal scene unfolded around her.

“No.” Sam said the word before the thought had fully registered. “No.”

“Sam! What’re you doing?”

Sam stared at the face of the man who meant the world to her. “It’s not what he would want.” She knew it without a shadow of a doubt. In some ways, the most difficult decision she’d ever made was also the simplest.

“Please, Sam.” Celia sobbed helplessly. “Please.”

Sam met the intense gaze of the lead paramedic. “He has a DNR.”

Hearing that, the paramedics stepped back.

Sobbing, Celia pulled free of Sam’s embrace to lean over her husband, kissing and caressing the half of his face that had retained full sensation after the shooting and the stroke that’d followed. Long after his injury, Sam and her sisters learned that, for quite some time before the shooting, he’d been dating Celia, who became his devoted nurse and, later, his wife.

The lead paramedic cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, would you like us to transport him?”

A lifetime of holidays, celebrations, parties and other events in this house ran through her mind in a flash. Skip Holland had lived there for most of his adult life. It seemed only fitting that his life should also end in the home he’d loved. If he was in pain, he probably couldn’t feel it. She took comfort in that.

“No, thank you.” Sam’s heart hurt, her hands trembled and her mouth had gone dry from fear. How would she ever go on without him?

The paramedics stepped out of the room.

Sam wanted to beg them to stay. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t bear it. Tracy. Angela. She had to call them. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely make the call to her eldest sister.

“Are you losing your mind without your man?” Tracy’s teasing tone barely registered with Sam.

“Trace.”

“What? Sam? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dad. You need to come. Tell Ang too. Hurry.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s… Just come. As fast as you can.”

“Sam.”

“Call Angela and get over here. Now.”

“We’re coming.”

Sam moved around to the other side of the bed and gazed down at her dad’s face. Tears threatened, but she fought them off, determined to stay strong for Celia, who was hysterical.

They’d been on borrowed time for almost four years now, during which Skip’s once-robust world had been reduced to three rooms. He’d been trapped in a kind of hell she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. All that time, she’d known that at some point his body would surrender the fight.

Knowing it could happen at any time didn’t make the reality easier, though.

Her sisters lived close by, so it didn’t take them long to get there, rushing into the room and bringing the scents of cold and wood smoke with them. They took one look at Skip and broke down into heartbroken sobs when they realized what was happening. Sam didn’t acknowledge them or do anything other than stare at the face of the man who’d occupied the very center of her life.

Tracy’s husband, Mike, stood behind Sam and her sisters. “What can we do?”