Banana Muffins & Mayhem - Culinary Competition Mystery #5

Chapter 19

(Carla)

Carla lifted her thumb off of the steering wheel and bent it to crack the joint. She had been gripping the wheel a little too tightly, and her hands were paying for it. Bruce was too. He didn't look impressed in the least as he clutched the armrest of the passenger seat while she pushed on the accelerator pedal and threaded her car into an opening in traffic.

"I have an idea for a new job for you," he said as he looked over his shoulder at the car she had just pulled in front of, which was flashing its headlights in protest. "You can help with driving courses at the police academy by pretending you are a fleeing suspect. Most police officers who I know would have a hard time keeping up with you."

She ignored her husband's attempt to lighten the mood. It was impossible that she was heading to the emergency room to see a loved one for the second time in less than a week. Impossible. Yet it was happening. Her mother had called after Alex's Jeep blew up on Main Street. Not in an accident. Not hit by another car or even caught on fire. Blew. Up. How did something like that happen?

Bruce probably had some ideas on what could cause a vehicle to explode, but she couldn't discuss that. Not while she needed to focus on getting both of them to the hospital as quickly as possible. Amy was injured. And Carla wanted to be by her side.

"Slow car!" He braced his right arm against the dash. Carla's gaze flicked to the side mirror. More than enough room. She jerked the steering wheel and veered into the left lane, neatly inserting the luckily compact Nissan Juke between a delivery van and a semi-truck. Bruce's shoulder bumped into hers. He grunted and swore under his breath as he grabbed the door handle to straighten himself. Her husband was most definitely going to be happy when his wound was healed. For now, his arm was in a sling to help keep the injured area immobile—a disadvantage while he was trying to brace himself for the sudden lane changes.

They fell silent for a few minutes as Carla concentrated on getting through a knot of congested traffic. The route to the hospital was tattooed into her mind, following the roads and turns a reflexive memory from years of driving there and back home in various states of exhaustion—mental and physical. Autopilot mode was a survival feature. Carla guided the car into the turning lane. She stomped on the brake pedal when an ambulance, sirens suddenly blaring, barreled out of the emergency room parking lot and crossed in front of her. The sound still made her pulse quicken, even though she hadn't worked there in over six months.

There was a parking space open in the first row nearest the doors. Bruce grunted again when the front tires smacked the curb. The ride had turned him into a caveman. Carla scrambled out of the car and turned toward the back seat to get Macy. But the baby wasn't there. The next-door neighbor with the budding soccer team of children had offered to take care of Macy many times. Carla had finally accepted the offer. The need to see what condition Amy and Alex were in overrode the reluctance to let her sweet defenseless baby hang out with a soccer ball-toting horde of older children. She'll be fine. Carla repeated the mantra to herself as she sprinted to the entrance doors. Hopefully, Amy would be too.

The admission nurses in the waiting area buzzed her through the doors to the exam rooms when she called out who she was looking for. Inside the inner sanctum of the ER, she scanned the arc of glass-walled rooms as she veered toward the nurse's station in the center of the space. "Amy and Alex Ridley. Came in from a car accident downtown," she said to Belinda. One of the many nurses who had been like a sister to her.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Belinda said. She pointed to the left. "They're together in room four."

The large rooms had space for two beds. When strangers occupied them, a curtain was drawn in between to give the patients privacy. The divider was drawn back. Amy lay on her side, facing Alex's bed. Both were being prepped for stitches on their heads.