Page 6 of The Third Girl

CHAPTER 3

MATT

Rain hammers the roof of my patrol car, and the wipers blur across the windshield at top speed. It’s not doing much good. The weather is fucking awful tonight. If I didn’t have to be out in this, I sure as hell wouldn’t be. Night shifts like this make my nerves raw. Doesn’t help that I have Nathan, a junior officer, with me tonight.

The kid’s been riding with me all month, and this is his second to last shift with me, then he’ll be on his own. He grumbles from the passenger seat, readjusting the shoulder strap of his seat belt. “This sucks.”

I grimace. “Yeah, but you’re probably going to be stuck on graveyard for a while, so you’d best get used to nights like this.”

I travel through our sleepy town at a much slower pace than usual due to the downpour, eyes scanning the dark. Water rushes over the road, creating some rather terrible driving conditions. But the radio’s been practically silent since we started our shift at midnight. That’s a good thing. I’d like it to stay that way.

My mind wanders for a bit as I come to a stop sign near the library. I can’t wait to head for home. Tell Terri I’m sorry. We’ll work things out. I heave out a breath. Just a few hours to go, and I’ll be home. We can spend a sleepy Sunday together. This weather isn’t forecasted to clear anytime soon, and there’s nothing Terri and I love more than cuddling up in our bed and listening to the sound of rain on the roof. Especially now that we have our tiny cuddle bug, Sailor. I’ve been soaking up the infant stage with her, even though it’s been tough at times.

Waffles. I think I’ll make Terri’s favorite waffles. Maybe if I’m lucky I can get them made before she’s had a chance to wake up—if she and Sailor manage to sleep in. Which, knowing my girls, they might. At eight months old, Sailor hardly ever sleeps through the night, so she usually wakes her mom at an ungodly hour to eat before the pair falls back asleep for a while longer. One day she’ll learn that 4 a.m. is too early for breakfast.

Something up ahead of our car catches my attention. “What the hell is that?” I mumble as I slow the car.

Nathan leans forward, bracing his hand on the dash. “Uh. Oh, you mean the lights, there, off to the side?”

I nod and squint, then blink hard, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. It’s so goddamn dark at three in the morning, and the weather isn’t helping matters. Up around the bend, I see what appears to be vehicle taillights, but they’re at an odd angle from the ground and off the road.Oh, shit.The closer I get, the harder my heart beats. I pick up my radio without taking my eyes off the road.

“Unit six-four-two to Wake County. Accident on Route 11 about a mile south of the supermarket. Send all available emergency personnel.”

The voice of the dispatcher comes crackling over the radio. “Wake County to unit six-four-two. Sending personnel now.”

Nathan turns on the emergency lights, while I pull off the road a distance from the vehicle.Christ.It’s flipped and in the ditch on its roof. A big SUV. Before getting out, we grab our nylon rain ponchos and tug them over our heads. “Follow my lead. Is this your first exposure to a potential fatality?”

He nods, his voice rough. “Yeah.”

“Keep a cool head. We’ll do our best to help.” Even as I say the words, I know this could be a rough lesson for him. Accidents like this are never easy, no matter how many times we deal with them.

We step out of the patrol car at the same time, then move quickly toward the vehicle.

And then, I stop. My breath catches in my throat, my lungs seizing hard. Rain comes at me sideways, and a new officer at my side awaits my guidance… yet all I can focus on is the vehicle. A Chevy Tahoe. Red. Terri’s favorite color.

Time slows as I blink water out of my eyes.No. No, no, no.For a second, I can’t process what I’m seeing.It can’t be.Why would she be out of the house at three in the morning?

“Matt?”

I glance to the side and immediately see the confusion radiating from Nathan, who’s stopped beside me. My gaze swings back to the SUV, then to the familiar license plate, which I’d know anywhere, even though it’s upside down. MOM2SJ. My voice catching, I choke out, “It’s my wife.”

Time speeds up again as my heart thumps hard in my chest, kicking me into motion. I hurry around to the driver’s side and drop to the soaking, muddy ground. I’m semi-aware of shards of glass and pieces of who knows what else digging into my knees through my pants, but I pay it no mind. The front end of the SUV’s roof has caved in part way, the airbag has deployed, and the window is a shattered mess. I tug on the door handle. “TERRI!” I can’t fucking see her, it’s so dark.

From inside the vehicle, Sailor’s high-pitched wailing both terrifies and thrills me. She’s alive. Nathan’s sure voice reaches me, and I cling to every word. “I can see her. Just barely. She’s crying hard, but I think she’s okay.”

I yank futilely on the door handle again, but it won’t budge, not that I expected it to. “Terri, sweetheart, can you hear me? I’m here.” I get down on my stomach and reach through the window to move the airbag out of the way so I can put eyes on my wife. As sirens shriek in the distance, my whole world shatters. Terri’s lifeless eyes stare back at me.

* * *

Motherfucker.Harsh breaths heave from me as I shoot up to sitting from flat on the mattress, sweat rolling down my back and coating my chest. It takes me several minutes before I’m able to regroup. I may never calm myself down from this nightmare.

I’m in hell, doomed to live those moments over and over again. The rush of fear when I recognized Terri’s overturned vehicle on the side of the road. The panic when we couldn’t get to them immediately. The all-encompassing anger when the other responders held me back as my family was pulled from the wreckage. And then day upon day of mourning the loss of my other half—the person who made me whole.

It shouldn’t surprise me that the nightmare popped up again now. I’ve had the same one on and off for the last year. It wakes me from a dead sleep more often than not. I guess Dad was right to force me to take an extra day off this weekend. He said he recommended it as my dad but required it as my boss. I was unsure at first how to feel about that demand, but now… I see his point. I feel almost as raw over my wife’s loss today as I did the day it happened.Three hundred sixty-five days without you, Terri. I don’t know how I’m going to make it.

The baby monitor on my nightstand gives a chirp before my daughter’s voice comes to me. “Daddy? Daddy?”

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers to them. That sweet voice. It’s for Sailor that I’ll find a way to move on.

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