Page 1 of Montana Mystery

Chapter 1

Kate Tilbeck

I played the voicemail again on speaker as I pulled into the parking lot. Because I got what it was saying, and yet I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. It was a nurse, calling to tell me that my brother had been brought in to the ER, was alone, and was going into surgery.

This was the last thing I’d expected today. But then again, no one ever really expects to get that phone call, do they?

Terror gripped my chest. The last time I’d gotten a call like this, I’d been too young. It had changed my life, and Brandon’s life, forever.

Silently, I begged the universe not to turn my life upside down again today. Please. I couldn’t handle it.

Parking took too long. Why were there so many people at the hospital? Shouldn’t there be like, emergency parking for people who were in a hurry? There. A space near the back. At this point I didn’t care, I just needed to get inside.

Thankfully, I was wearing the right shoes to sprint.

The automatic doors weren’t opening fast enough for me. Amazing how something so trivial on a good day took an eternity on a bad one.

I shoved the thought to the side. But this time, it didn’t want to leave. Part of me had been waiting for this particular call. The fear had been lurking in the shadows for a while. But its arrival didn’t bring me relief. Dread was the only thing left.

The emergency room nurse looked up as I ran in, eyebrows raised. This wasn’t a town full of running-worthy emergencies. Except for me. Today.

“Brandon Tilbeck,” I managed, trying to catch my breath. “I’m his sister.”

“Sure. Can I see some ID?” She was already looking him up, though from the call I’d gotten, I was shocked she didn’t know who he was. Fumbling with my wallet, I managed to get my driver’s license out, though my hands were still shaking with adrenaline.

The nurse nodded. “Down the hall and to the left. He’s in room three, and the doctor will meet you there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

I tried not to run, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Oh my God.” The words tumbled out under my breath as I pushed into the room.

Brandon was still as death, and if I hadn’t known that it was him, there was a chance I wouldn’t have recognized him. His face was swollen and bruised. Lip cut, one eye black and puffy. He looked like someone had held him down and used a meat tenderizer on him.

What I could see of his arms wasn’t in better condition. Darkening bruises and blood that was dried and not yet cleaned. Were those... bite marks? Nausea rose in my gut.

“Miss Tilbeck?” I jumped. A doctor stood behind me. He held up a hand. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s okay.” I pressed my hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow down. “Just a bit jumpy and wrapping my head around this.”

He nodded. “I can understand that. It’s never easy to see a relative in his condition.”

“What... happened? The message said that he was in surgery?”

“Dr. Godin.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “You mean what caused it? That I can’t tell you. He was dropped off outside the emergency room and was barely conscious. There was some internal bleeding that we addressed in surgery. Currently, he’s sedated, and I’m afraid that he needs to stay that way. For now.”

I sat down, rubbing my hands over my face, trying to take it all in. “Why?”

“He has a concussion. A bad one. His brain might be swelling, and there’s no telling what effect that will have. But for now, we need to keep him under so his body—and brain—can rest and heal.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

The doctor made a face that he quickly covered. “I’d say the chances of a full physical recovery are good. Whatever happened, he got lucky. No broken bones, and with the bleeding addressed, he’s out of danger in that way. But like I said, until we can safely wake him, we won’t know the state of his mind.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I took a shaky breath.

The doctor looked away, probably deciding whether or not to sugarcoat it. Thankfully, the drop in his shoulders and sigh convinced me he was telling me the truth. All of it. “At the absolute worst? Brain damage, though I’m sorry I can’t tell you what form that could take. It could be accompanied by memory loss. There’s also a chance for memory loss without cognitive impairment. But,” his eyes softened in sympathy, “there isn’t a way to predict which way it will go. Brains are funny that way.”

“Yeah.” I knew all about that, at least. It wasn’t the first time I’d been told that someone I cared about might not be themselves when they woke up. “But he will wake up?”

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