Page 140

She rolled off the bed, grabbed his shirt because it was handy. Swinging it on, she rushed to the door.
“What? That’s my shirt.”
He rolled off himself, hitched up his pants, and went after her.
Hoping for more playtime, Tic followed.
He caught up with her as she pushed open the door to the room she used as an office. She hit the lights, then beelined for her laptop.
As she booted it up with one hand, grabbed a file beside it with another, he stared at the wall.
Pictures—of people, cars, parking lots, and more—crowded together with printouts of articles, handwritten notes. More notes she’d obviously written with a marker right on the wall itself.
“Interesting decor. A bold choice.”
“Zapped him back. Tarrington’s father, paramedic, portable defibrillator. Brought him back.”
“So you said.”
“Janet Anderson, paddleboarding last summer, fell off, board hit her head, and she went under. It’s in the file. You look at the husband. Cleared him, he’s clear. Didn’t pay much attention before. But… Yes!”
“What?”
“Required CPR, mouth-to-mouth. Got her on the patrol boat. Officer First Class Wilber—I know him—resuscitated her. He brought her back. I forgot. I didn’t connect it.”
Since the room didn’t boast another chair, Nash stood, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay.”
She sat, and her fingers started flying over the keyboard.
“Maybe Rigsby—the dentist—maybe he had an accident, a heart attack, something, and required… Cumberland’s not that big a town, but there’s a local paper. He’s had a practice there for more than twenty-five years. Big house, fancy car, prominent citizen.”
Curious now, Nash walked around behind her.
“See, here he is, last October—Halloween bash.”
She brought up another, highlighting his practice’s pediatric dental work, another in the spring when he and his wife attended a local fundraiser.
“Here! Single car accident a year ago last December. Icy road, Mercedes versus tree. Tree wins. Critical condition. Need more.”
“You can’t just go into somebody’s medical records. HIPAA.”
“Yeah, yeah, the investigators can get more, but… His wife uses social media. And he has a professional page. I didn’t go back this far.”
So he watched as she sat, swamped in his work shirt, going back through Karen Rigsby’s social posts.
Food pictures, kid pictures whizzed by. Photos of Karen and her husband beaming, Karen with a group of women, happy birthday posts.
She stopped at a post in March topped by a header.
ART COMES HOME TODAY!
It’s been a long haul with a lot of tears, a lot of worry, and a lot of work. Art and I, and our whole family, want to thankall of you for your prayers, your support during this difficult time. We will never forget the friends and neighbors who did so much to help. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.
Our deep and sincere gratitude goes out to the wonderful doctors and nursing staff at UPMC. Your skill, dedication, and kindness meant everything to all of us. At every step and stage, you went above and beyond.
So, so many thanks to the first responders. Without your quick action, your skill, I would have lost my husband, our children their father, our grandchildren their pop. You brought him back to us, and now he’s coming home.
“Brought him back.”