“She may be dying. I shouldn’t call you. She wouldn’t want me to. But I had to let you know! She was in a c–car c–crash!”
Michael felt his body jerk as though electrocuted. The edge of the cell cut into his palm when his fingers clenched around it. “What do you mean…dying?” He could hear the woman’s broken sobbing, and he shouted, “Talk to me, damn it!”
Vicky poured out what she knew, obviously trying for control, but her voice shook. As Michael listened in numb horror, certain phrases resonated. Didn’t want to see him…losing the baby…massive hemorrhage.
Michael extracted as much information out of Vicky Sotero as he could. Cathy had discovered that she was pregnant. She had declared that Michael didn’t need to know because she had broken it off. She did not want to see him again. There had been a multiple-car collision on the freeway. Vicky’s conscience had gotten the better of her. She hadn’t had his business card with her, but she had found the phone in Cathy’s purse. She was calling from the hospital.
“I’m coming to the hospital, Vicky.” Michael ended the call, clipping his words. He jerked to his feet and strode swiftly across the office. His mind was whirling. He felt almost physically ill from the fear and adrenaline that rushed through his body.
Darryl had long since set aside the papers. He stood up and followed. “What’s going on, Mike?”
Michael yanked open the office door. Over his shoulder, he said brusquely, “I’ve got to go. Catherine is in the hospital.”
Darryl immediately palmed his keys. “I’ll take you.”
“No, that’s okay.” Michael started through the door.
Darryl grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Mike, you’re not in any shape to drive. Look at yourself, man! You’re hands are shaking! I’m not going to have you wreck on the way over there.” There was a mulish set to his mouth. “I’m driving.”
Michael nodded. It wasn’t worth the time to argue. Besides, on a certain level, he was even grateful. “Okay. You drive.”
They made it to the hospital in record time, though to Michael it felt like an eon. He jumped out of the BMW, not even glancing as Darryl sped off in search of a parking spot. Michael strode into the emergency-room waiting area. He swept a searching glance around and found the woman he remembered. His brain fleetingly registered that the Thompsons were also there. But Vicky Sotero was the one he was interested in. She was the one who had called him. “Vicky!”
She was seated tensely on the edge of a chair. Her head jerked up at sound of her name. Her eyes were reddened and puffy. The black tracks of mascara had melted under her dark eyes. She leaped to her feet and surged toward him, her hands outstretched. “Michael!”
He caught her hands in a painful grip.
“Lambert? What are you doing here?”
Michael didn’t acknowledge the astonished query. All of his attention was focused on Vicky Sotero and what she could tell him. He snapped hoarsely, “Where is she, Vicky?”
The expression in Vicky’s huge eyes was tragic. “In ICU. The doctor said—”
But Michael didn’t wait to hear what else she would have said. He swept past her, making his way purposefully to the doors of the ICU.
“Michael!” Vicky hurried after him and grabbed his arm. “Cathy wouldn’t want you to do this! I just called you because—”
He turned an icy stare on her, demanding fiercely, “What did you think I would do? Did you really think that I was just going to walk away? Maybe come back to watch her buried? I’m not going anywhere! She wouldn’t let me be there for her and Chloe, but I will damn sure be here for her now!”
Vicky shrank back. The Thompsons appeared to be shocked to speechlessness.
A nurse tried to head Michael off. “Sir, you can’t go in there. Sir!”
Michael paid no attention. He shoved open the metal door to ICU and went in, the others following in his wake. By then, Darryl had hurried in, and he brought up the rear.