Read Online Life Support by Robert Whitlow - Free Book Online

world,” Alexia told him. “If I ever get a cramp, will you pull me to shore?”
    Boris ran splashing back into the edge of the surf. Sea rescue was not listed on his résumé.
    Alexia walked north along the edge of the water and looked for undamaged treasures. The beach offered a paltry selection of shells, most of them broken into small fragments before reaching the shore. Because she came so often, Alexia could be picky. Today, she didn’t find anything worth taking home to deposit in the large glass bowl in the center of her kitchen table.
    By the time she returned to the place where she’d left her beachbag, the sunset she’d anticipated from her deck stretched across the sky. The high clouds were a vibrant red tinged with pink. She took off the wet suit, dried herself with a yellow beach towel, and then played tug of war for a few minutes with Boris. Back in the boat, Boris lay quietly at her feet as they crossed the marsh. Alexia enjoyed the final chapters of the sunset. By the time she rolled the boat into its resting place, the clouds had lost their color and darkness was falling.

6
    Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit.
    MACBETH , ACT 2, SCENE 3
    T he first vehicle to reach Rena was not an ambulance. It was a police car. She heard the siren before the vehicle, raising a cloud of dust, came into view. Except for the flashing blue lights on top, the yellow-and-brown cruiser could have been mistaken for a city cab.
    A short, overweight, completely bald man got out of the car. He was dressed in a white shirt without a tie and wrinkled green slacks. When he came closer, Rena could see that he was disfigured by a deep scar that began above his left eye and continued up his forehead. The reddish color of the scar contrasted with the adjacent white skin and made the man look like he’d survived a scalping by hostile Indians.
    Rena opened the door to get out. When she did, her nausea returned with a vengeance. Gagging, she leaned over and got sick on the gravel roadway.
    The man waited until she stopped gagging then spoke in a deep, slow-moving voice. “Take it easy, Mrs. Richardson. I’m Detective Giles Porter with the Mitchell County Sheriff ’s Department. The deputy in the car is checking on the location of an ambulance.”
    In spite of her condition, Rena pointed up the road toward the parking lot for the trail and croaked, “Don’t stay here. My husband fell off a cliff.”
    â€œWe know. A helicopter is on its way and should arrive in a few minutes. It will get to him long before we could. We’re here to take care of you.”
    â€œA helicopter?” Rena asked as her strength began to return.
    â€œYes. We have an airborne rescue squad that serves this area of the state. It’s headquartered in this county.”
    Immediate validation of the detective’s words came as a helicopter roared over their heads. It was painted white with a green logo on the side.
    Porter pointed upward. “They should be at the falls in a couple of minutes. There is a landing area not far from the bottom. It would take us over an hour to get there on foot.”
    Rena closed her eyes. “It’s no use. My husband is dead.”
    â€œAre you sure?” the detective asked with concern.
    Rena nodded. “I tried to revive him. He didn’t have a pulse and was already getting cold by the time I reached the bottom of the falls to help him.”
    â€œI’m sorry. It’s a dangerous place, but don’t try to talk about it now.”
    â€œWe’d been married less than a year,” she added weakly.
    The officer in the patrol car opened the door and called out, “If she can ride in the car, the ambulance is going to meet us at the end of the road. They had to bring in a unit from the other side of the county.”
    The detective stepped closer to Rena.
    â€œWe’ll put you in the back of the patrol car and take you