Page 55 of Shelter for Martina

“We did the best we could. The next forty-eight hours will tell the tale,” the man explained.

“What happened?”

“The bullet went through. Clean through-and-through. There was some bleeding, but we stopped it. Very little damage, just some tissue and the bleeding, but it was hard to stop. It could start again and if it does, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get it stopped again. She’ll hemorrhage out, and that’ll be it. Fingers crossed, sir.”

“Can I see her?” Bud asked, his throat hoarse from crying.

“When we move her to ICU, yes. She’s in recovery now. But it won’t be long. We’ll let you know.” And so he went back to the waiting room to sit.

At eight o’clock that morning, a nurse led Bud to a small cubicle in ICU. His heart broke. Martina lay there in the bed, still and quiet, pale as the sheet tucked in across her chest. There were machines everywhere, whirring and buzzing and beeping, and he didn’t know what he could or couldn’t touch, but he reached out and took her hand. It was cool, too cool, and he was gripped with fear. All he could think about was how he’d lost Becky, how bad it had been, how she’d fought and fought. Martina had fought too. She’d fought for her daughter, and she’d lost. She’d fought for him, and he was still there.

But if he lost her, he’d be lost. It was over. Loving someone and losing them was just too hard, but two in a row, especially so soon, was just too much. He sat there, praying she’d open her eyes, but she didn’t. They came to check on her and asked him to leave the room, so he went down the hallway to where his family sat and broke down. His heart ached and he wanted to die beside her.

The day went by and he sat there with her. At one point, Riley came in to tell him Nola had called Martina’s phone to tell her Darnell had made it home. Since it was the only chance they’d have to talk to anybody, she’d told Nola what had happened and had been assured that Renita’s in-laws would be contacting all of Martina’s family.

By that evening, Janine, Martina’s sister, and her husband, Luther, were on their way from Florida, and they assured Riley that Martina’s dad and stepmother were on their way too. Bud had hoped that would make him feel better, knowing she’d be surrounded by family, but it didn’t. Nothing helped.

And to his shock and amazement, at nine thirty that night, a shadow darkened the door and he turned to see MartyBurgess standing there. “Marty?”

“Detective. Just wanted to come by an’ say how sorry I am. Is she gonna be okay?”

Bud shook his head as he looked down into her face. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m so, so sorry. My daddy was a piece of shit. No wonder my mama didn’t want me knowin’ he was my daddy all them years. I ain’t had nothin’ from him ‘cept heartache since I met him. Look what he done to Renita, an’ she was my friend.”

Bud stepped out into the little commons area and took Marty by the shoulder. “Marty, think. Did Phil sayanythingthat could lead us to Renita? Anything?”

Marty shook his head. “No, sir. I don’ think he did. I gone over it an’ gone over it in my head an’ I can’t think of nothin’.”

“What exactlydidhe say? Can you remember?”

Marty stood there, staring at the floor. “He said, ‘You ain’t gotta worry about it no more, Marty. She ain’t gonna hide steal yore stash again. She’s gone an’ she ain’t never gonna bother you again.’ That’s all I ‘member.” Then he stopped. “Wait. He said, ‘Long as they don’ look up, everthin’ll be fine.’ I ‘member that. What did he mean?”

Something tickled at Bud’s brain. There’d been something in one of those pictures ConorPaxton had made that had bothered him, but he hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. He pulled out his phone and opened the folder of pics, then pulled up the one of the area where the four-wheeler had been stuck.

And there it was, in the background. The thing he’d missed, the one that had bothered him but he hadn’t realized it. She’d been there all along and they hadn’t seen her.

Because they hadn’t looked up.

* * *

Bud tookMarty and met ConorPaxton and TannerSmithson in the woods the next morning. He’d called Len, Ted, Tyler, and Andy too, and they had Brad and the lab on standby. Tanner spread out a map of the entire area and Bud pointed to it. “Marty, can you show us where all of them are?”

“He may-a had a few I didn’t know ‘bout, but I know where most of ‘em are.” Marty started pointing out locations, and as he did, Tanner would mark them and Conor would set the coordinates for them. All of the men picked one, put the coordinates in GPS apps on their phones, and set out.

They walked along with instructions to look around when they got to their location. Some were close and some were far, but as they reached them, they checked in on their radios. They’d been out for about forty minutes when TylerBridges’ voice came through the radio. “I’ve got a location with broken rungs but a fresh rope nearby, buried in leaves.” Once they converged on his coordinates, they watched as Conor put on a set of spurs and a harness with a flipline, then ascended the tree carefully, avoiding the broken ladder that led up to the plywood-enclosed deer stand. When he finally climbed into the dilapidated shelter, he stopped and took off his cap. “Bud?”

“Yeah?”

“Call the coroner. I’m not moving anything until he gets here.”

An hour later, undisturbed, packed full of lime, and wrapped in plastic fastened with duct tape, a bundle was lowered in a basket by an OhioCounty search and rescue team. When it reached the ground, the coroner cut it open, and there was no mistaking the hank of red hair on its scalp, the skin dessicated paper-thin by the lime, and the muscles, tendons, and ligaments shriveled until its maw was open in a silent scream. Horrified, Bud fell to his knees and sobbed, and the rest of the group of grown men standing there in the woods wept openly.

RenitaAnderson was finally going home.

Chapter 9

It had been five days.No one at the hospital would discourage him, but they didn’t give him much hope either. Her dad, stepmother, sister, and sister’s husband were taking turns sitting with her so he could at least go and get something to eat, but the idea of leaving long enough to shower or sleep was lost on Bud. He’d promised her he’d find her daughter, and he had. He’d promised her he’d never leave her, and he wouldn’t. He’d promised her he’d shelter her and protect her. He hadn’t. So he was there for the duration. It was the least he could do for failing her.

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