Dead Ringer

David smiled. “Let me hold the cup,” he said, but Bennie was already reaching for it herself. A bolt of pain shot through her chest, and IV tubes she hadn’t noticed tethered her arms to the bed.

Okay, so much for the independent-woman part.

“Please, let me do it.” David looped his right arm around her back, cradling her while he brought the cup to her lips so she could take a small sip of lukewarm water. Then he eased her back onto the pillows.

“That was good for me, was it good for you?” Bennie rasped, and he laughed.

“Congratulations, by the way. You’re not critical anymore.”

“I’m always critical,” Bennie said, testing out her new throat. It still hurt like hell, but at least now it was wet.

“The associates just left. Too bad you missed them.” David set the cup of water on the rolling cart, eased onto the orange plastic chair beside the bed, and hung a forearm over the molded bedrail. “How do you feel?”

“Okay.” Bennie swallowed. She sensed he was avoiding the obvious. “How are Marshall and the baby?”

“Marshall is fine.” David paused. “And the baby, well, the baby might not make it. We’ll know later today. Its blood and oxygen supply were compromised when the placenta separated.”

No. Bennie closed her eyes. “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“Girl. Named Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle. Bennie felt her eyes well up, and David squeezed her hand.

“As for you, you took a shot in your lung, but it missed your spine, which is very good news, and your pulmonary artery, which is more very good news. You had a lot of bleeding, but they didn’t have to transfuse you.” David gave her hand another squeeze. His voice sounded calm and even. “You’ve been awake a couple of times, which the doctor says is normal, with the drugs they’re giving you and the trauma your body went through.”

Bennie nodded. She’d been lucky. She prayed to God the baby would be. She couldn’t stop thinking about Marshall. What she had gone through. What she might yet have to go through. “Is Jim with Marshall?”

“Yes. You need anything? More water, maybe?”

“No, thanks.” Bennie opened her eyes and blinked the wetness away. “What about Alice and Georges? Catch me up.”

“Alice is the one who ran for the ER people when you got hit. She probably saved your life.”

Well, how do you like that? Returning the favor.

“Nobody’s seen her since, though, and Georges is fine, except for a shoulder injury, and he’s already been charged with his brother’s murder. What happened between you three?” David leaned closer, but Bennie waved him back.

“I’ll tell you if you don’t smell my breath.”

“Your breath is better than Bear’s.”

“There’s a plus.” Bennie smiled. She must look terrible. She didn’t know the last time she had washed her hair. She didn’t know what day it was. She wished for mascara, which she’d never worn in her life. “I bet I look hot in this gown.”

“Bennie, can I tell you something, quite honestly?” David leaned over, smoothed back a strand of her hair, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “I think you are beautiful, even now.”

Bennie didn’t know what to say, so she closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. It was about as sexy as a hospital room gets, and she was filled with a warm, strong rush that was better than morphine. Okay, maybe not better than morphine, but really really good.

“And Bear says hi. I’m staying at your house, if that’s okay. Taking care of him and making sure Alice doesn’t come back.”

Bennie nodded. It felt good, David staying in her place. He was in her bed, even if she wasn’t. Huh?

“So what happened? Georges isn’t saying, and Alice can’t be found. She told the cops that he confessed when he came upon you and her together. She said that when he tried to shoot her, you stepped in and saved her. Is that true?”

“Partly.” Bennie smiled. Except for that attempted-murder part. “How did she explain what she was doing there with a gun?”

“She didn’t have to. She said it was yours. It was registered to you.”

“Ha!” Bennie blinked. “She must have bought it using my name and ID. Perfect.”

“So what was she doing there with a gun?” David’s forehead knitted with concern. “Wasn’t she trying to kill you? And if she was, why would you save her?”

Bennie shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him why. She hadn’t realized it herself until this minute anyway. Instead, she told him what had happened with Alice.

“You must have been terrified.”

“Nah.” Scared shitless is more like it.

“She should be charged. She tried to kill you.”

Bennie shook her head. “They won’t find her. She’s outta here. That’s her MO.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when the shit hit the fan.” David’s tone was heavy with regret. “I called your cell when I saw you hadn’t been brought to Penn, but there was no answer. I couldn’t get here in time.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is. It happened on my watch. You were on my watch.”

“David, no.”

He rubbed her hand. “Let it go, don’t talk. Just rest. I’m here,” he said, and Bennie could hear the sadness lingering in his tone. A memory of a headline floated into her brain, from the newspaper clipping Sam had given her. The one about the cadet who had died. What had it said?

“So if something goes wrong on your watch, it’s your fault?”

“Sure,” David answered, without hesitation.

“Why?”

“I’m the captain, the head coach, the commander. I’m responsible for what goes wrong.”

Bennie nodded. She used to think that way too. Until now. “Can I have some more water?”

“Of course,” he said, and they went through their water drill again, leaving Bennie with a scratchy but moistened throat, which was all she needed.

No time like the present. “I read that about a cadet who died during SEAL training. What happened?” Bennie asked, then closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see his face. He’d be too proud, so she saved face for him. Literally.

David fell silent for a moment. “You know about that?”

Bennie waited, eyes closed.

“I don’t want to talk about that now. This isn’t the time or the place.”

“Why not?”

“You’re barely conscious.”

“Hey. Tell me.”

Bennie heard a deep sigh.

“Well, Cadet Wellington collapsed and died at one of our exercises, during Hell Week, which is the last week of training before graduation. Cadet Wellington was under my command.”

“What did he die of?”

“A heart attack. A defect of the mitral valve, which burst under the strain.”

“No one knew?”

“No one knew, not even Wellington. It was congenital. No exam revealed it, preinduction. Only an ECT would have given any sign of it, and they’re not required as part of our physical. His dad was a big cheese at the Pentagon, and they charged me.”

“I see.” Bennie kept her eyes closed. David’s voice sounded more hoarse than hers, and she’d bet his pain was worse too. “They cleared you of any wrongdoing, right?”

“Once the whole medical history came to light, yes.”

Bennie breathed easier. She’d normally never cross-examine with a question she didn’t know the answer to, but for the first time, she’d bet on the military. “The other cadets were fine, right?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing unusual about the exercise?”