Chapter 1: Lizzie

"Don't you be dead, sir. Not when you've made me care about you."

Lizzie's hands shake as she tries to find a pulse on Hathaway. She can barely feel it in his neck. Her own heart is beating so hard, she's afraid she may be imagining that the pulse is there. She places the call for help, giving the location of the empty office where she found her boss.

He's so pale, his face drained of color except for his lips which have the faintest tinge of blue. His hands are loosely gathered over his abdomen, and covered with blood. She figures he must have been trying to staunch the bleeding before he passed out. How long was he here, alone and in pain? The coppery smell of blood is everywhere.

Lizzie unbuttons his waistcoat. He'd had a white shirt on that day, but now the front appears almost completely red. She unbuttons that as well. It's stiff under her fingers as she tries to find the source of the blood. With his shirt open, she can see his chest rise and fall, though shallowly. He's breathing, he's breathing. Thank God.

There is so much blood on his skin, she can't see where it's coming from at first. Finally, she finds an area on the left side under his ribs, from where the blood is oozing. She pulls off her jacket, wads it up and presses it against the wound, worrying that it is too little, too late. She can't tell whether Hathaway was shot or stabbed. She tries to calculate how long he might have been lying there, bleeding onto the ugly patterned carpet.

Three hours ago, he'd sent her off to do some research at the history center while he headed out to interview Harold Marbury, an insurance agent with a connection to a recent supposed accident that could have been murder. With her research complete, Lizzie returned to the station to find Hathaway still gone, which was a bit concerning. When she didn't hear from him by the two hour mark, she tried to get in touch, but her calls went to voicemail.

Luckily, Hathaway had a habit of taking notes at his desk on any bit of paper rather than digging out the notebook in his pocket. She'd found Marbury's name and a Cowley address on the back of a torn scrap of a report.

She drove there, hoping she'd find him leaning idly against his car and smoking a cigarette. She found only his car, parked outside the business office. How dangerous could it have been interviewing an insurance guy? Surely, getting sold a policy would be the biggest threat.

The door was unlocked, and no one was in the outer office space, where a receptionist would typically sit and clients would wait. Lizzie called out, advancing through the door to a hallway where offices branched out. All were empty. She found Hathaway, unconscious on his back in the last room.

The silence of the office is broken by nearing sirens. Lizzie hears the doors open in the outer office, footsteps and the sounds of a stretcher being wheeled in. She calls out to help the paramedics find them.

She is so fixed on keeping her jacket in place, one of the paramedics has to pull her hands away from the wound. "We've got him now," he says, not unkindly, in her ear. Lizzie lets him move her to the side and the paramedics seem to fall upon Hathaway like a shadow.

She hears little snatches of their conversation as they communicate with the hospital. She tries to gauge how serious Hathaway's condition is from their talk, but "hypovolemic shock" does not sound good at all. Things move quickly and before she knows it they are moving her boss through the door on the stretcher.

The same paramedic who pulled her hands away is speaking to her. "We've got him stabilized and we're transporting to the John Radcliff. You can ride with us in the cab, or follow in your car."

She chooses to drive herself. She needs a few minutes to breathe and focus her thoughts. Lizzie wants more than anything to cry, but she can't allow that. Not for hours, maybe days. Not until she sees her boss safe. She digs her phone out before the ambulance pulls away and dials Joe Moody's number. He's the only one she can call. Robert Lewis is still in New Zealand with Dr. Hobson. That reality hits her like a physical blow. They're returning in a little more than a week, but that may be too long.

Trying to control her voice, she tells Moody how she found Hathaway and that they're on their way to the JR. He tells her to concentrate on getting to the hospital and he will meet her there.

She's sitting in the waiting room, a plastic bag containing Hathaway's odds and ends on her lap, when Moody arrives. She looks up, fighting the urge to cry at the sight of someone familiar. He sits next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Any news?" he asks.

"They took him right into surgery. I don't know how long he was in that office before I found him. They said they lost him twice in the ambulance. Twice, sir." Her hands are shaking so badly, Moody takes the bag of Hathaway's belongings from her. "I've never seen so much blood where the person wasn't dead.

He touches her forearm. "Why don't you go wash up. I'll stay here in case there is news."

She looks down at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. Hathaway's blood is crusted under her nails, staining her hands up to her wrists, lining the creases of her knuckles. Lizzie nods and walks down the hall. In the woman's toilet, she scrubs and scrubs her hands, and the water runs red and then pink but never completely clear. It feels so wrong to see Hathaway's life blood swirling down the sink drain.

She looks in the mirror and sees a wide swath of rusty red across her cheek, like badly applied makeup. She washes the blood away with a paper towel. When she gets back, Moody tells her he's given the case to Grainger's team, both the original inquiry and Hathaway's stabbing. "He'll be in touch soon to go over the details." She wants to argue but she knows her heart and mind would not be on the case.

Moody goes off to get them some coffee. It's going to be a while before they have news. "I think we need to call Inspector Lewis," she says, when he comes back. She pulls out her mobile phone to check the time on the other side of the world.

"Let's wait until we have more information." She thinks he wants to wait until he knows whether he's going to have to tell Lewis that his friend is dead.

It's another couple of hours before they know more. The doctor comes out and pulls a chair around to face them.

"You know Mr. Hathaway went into cardiac arrest twice on the way here. The good news is, he made it through surgery. The stab wound was quite deep, but there was no involvement with vital organs. We repaired the damage. The real threat is the dangerously large volume of blood he lost. We transfused him to replace it, but he is by no means out of the woods. Severe blood loss puts an enormous strain on the circulatory system. Also, we could possibly be looking at brain damage. The next 24 to 48 hours will tell the tale."

Lizzie asks if they can see Hathaway, and they are granted five minutes. They're led to the Intensive Care unit. The doctor tells them that they've sedated Hathaway to give his body a chance to heal. He's a little less deathly white, but he's so very still and he's hooked up to an array of machines. But he's breathing on his own, though with the aid of an oxygen mask. She lays a hand on Hathaway's arm as the nurse tells them their time is up.

They are shown to the waiting area for the ICU. It's more comfortable, with sofas and stations to charge mobile devices and laptops. People camp out here, waiting for the few minutes they are alloted to see their patient. A few family groups murmur together. A television set up high on the wall is tuned to a game show with the sound down and captions displayed.

Moody goes off to find them some sandwiches as it's nearly gone 9 o'clock. She eats because she knows she needs to, but the food has no taste. After they eat, Moody steps outside to make some phone calls. He doesn't seem to be leaving any time soon which surprises her.

She pulls out her phone. It's tomorrow morning already in New Zealand, as Lizzie tries Robbie's cell number and then Dr. Hobson's. Neither number answers or even goes to voicemail. She tries again an hour later with no more success. It feels wrong that Hathaway might die and Lewis be unaware.

She calls Tony, just to hear his voice, finding herself crying as she tells him about Hathaway. She tells him how much she misses being a child where Mom or Dad would come in and take over and tell you what needed to be done and that everything would be okay. Tony says being a grown up is rubbish. She does not disagree.

"No luck reaching Inspector Lewis or Dr. Hobson," she tells Moody when he comes back to the waiting area. "I can call the path lab in the morning and see if Dr. Hobson left a local contact number."

Moody rubs a hand over his face. "I checked and Lewis is listed as Hathaway's next of kin. I feel like I'm operating in a vacuum. I haven't known James that long. I have a feeling that years could go by and I wouldn't know him any better."

Lizzie laughs. "It's been a year and a half, sir, and I'm still finding things out about him. I feel like I really didn't get to know him at all until Chief Super Innocent brought Lewis out of retirement. Hathaway is like a different person around him. It seems funny, looking back. I was going to put in for a transfer after the first couple of weeks reporting to Hathaway."

"We had a briefing before she left for Suffolk," Moody says with a chuckle. "Jean told me he went through a few sergeants in a short while before she asked Lewis to come back. What did Robert do that made things work?"

"It's hard to put my finger on it," she replies. "Oh, he prodded Hathaway when he didn't thank me for something. And pointed out that Hathaway was insisting on doing everything himself, which was the thing that drove me craziest. But really, Lewis just makes things smooth. He understands people, reads them like the rest of us read books."

"I've noticed that about him. I wish I had his advice right about now."

They fall quiet after a while, each in their own thoughts. They're allowed to look in on Hathaway again for five minutes. There is no change, and she tries to take comfort that at least he's not going downhill. The lounge empties as time goes by, leaving only her and Moody and a couple of red-eyed young guys she takes for brothers. Lizzie dozes off sometime in the early morning hours.

Voices in the hallway signal the change of shifts and she wakes, lying on one of the sofas with Moody's jacket over her. He is sprawled in an easy chair, arms crossed over his chest, long legs stretched out in front of him, lightly snoring. The two brothers have left and it's just her and Moody.

Lizzie stretches and sits up. Her mouth tastes like library paste. She covers Moody with his jacket and goes off to wash up and make herself presentable. It's nearly 7 o'clock and she'll be able to try the pathology lab soon. But first, she stops at the nurses station and asks about Hathaway. The night shift doctor at the desk is typing into a computer.

"Mr. Hathaway is holding his own," he says. "He's maintaining his blood pressure, which is critical. At this point, every hour that goes by increases his chances."

She nods a thank you, afraid her voice will betray her, so great is her relief. Her affection for her boss surprises her. It crept up on her over the months. When she first met James Hathaway, she found him cold and outright rude. His clipped tone when he deigned to speak to her made her want to smack him in the back of his blond head.

She'd talked to Chief Inspector Innocent about a transfer. She groused to her girlfriends about her tight-arsed boss. She grit her teeth each morning as she walked into the office where no matter how early she showed up, he was already there, empty coffee cups dotting his desk.

It was only after Inspector Lewis came back that she realized Hathaway had a personality. She could finally see his wickedly subversive sense of humor. He was more thoughtful than she could have predicted. He brought her pork scratchings because she loved them, even though he thought they were awful. He asked how Tony was doing, and if she enjoyed her days off. To her surprise, Hathaway was an actual human being.

She'd worried a bit when Lewis and Dr. Hobson left for six months, afraid that Hathaway would revert to his previous taciturn self. But while he seemed to look around the office as if hoping Lewis might walk through the door any minute, Hathaway tried to stay engaged with her. He even went out with her and her friends a couple of times, which was a little tense at first since she'd vented to some of those same friends about her aggravating boss.

They have to try and reach Inspector Lewis. She and Moody are clearly out of their depth in this situation.

She takes a chance and finds the pathology lab number in her phone's history. It's not even 8 o'clock, but someone picks up when she calls. Better yet, it's Dr. Hobson's assistant, who has Hobson's sister's mobile number. She calls the number and is relieved to hear a woman's voice.

She returns to the waiting room to find Moody stretching and yawning. She tells him that Hathaway is hanging in there, and fills him in on the Lewis situation.

"Sir, I spoke with Dr. Hobson's sister," she says. "Inspector Lewis and Dr. Hobson are sightseeing in a fairly remote area with very sketchy mobile service. She expects them back some time tomorrow. I'll keep trying though, in case they pass through an area with better reception. And I've sent them both emails in case they have internet service but not mobile."

Moody suggests they get a proper breakfast since Hathaway seems to be relatively stable. The hospital cafe is far too bright and cheery but the coffee is good. Lizzie finds she is starving as she digs into her breakfast.

"We may not be able to talk to Lewis for days," Moody says. "Hathaway has a sister, doesn't he? I think we met her at the funeral."

"Yes. Nell. But I don't think they're close."

Hathaway's father died a couple of months into Lewis' trip. Hathaway had been quiet about the whole thing, only telling Moody he'd be out for a week or so. But Lizzie had been aware of his father's decline and figured it out. She and Moody and a few others went to the funeral to support Hathaway. He'd seemed shocked to see his coworkers, looking over his shoulder a few times during the service as if he might have imagined them. Hathaway hadn't called Lewis until after the funeral. He didn't want to tempt his friend to cut the trip short.

"They seemed fairly cordial to me," Moody says. "And I've seen plenty of family drama at funerals."

"Maybe they made up, but I took some pretty angry messages from her when their dad was still alive."

"If it was my brother, I'd want to know, even if we weren't speaking."

"Okay," she says as she pulls out Hathaway's phone. "You're right. Her number should be in here. Do you want me to call her?"

"No. I'll do it. If Hathaway is going to get angry, let it be with me."

She smiles as she pulls up the number for Moody. Let Hathaway be well and healthy enough for a proper tantrum and she'll happily let him stamp his feet and let fly with a string of curse words.

"You must have stuff to do at the station, sir," she says.

"I do and I'll go in later. Why don't you go home and rest for a couple of hours. And in the meantime, I'll call Ms. Hathaway."

She heads home and takes the world's longest and most wonderful shower. She sets her phone alarm to go off in two hours. Even though she rested for a few hours at the hospital, she sleeps hard until the alarm sounds.

Moody calls as he's leaving the hospital, with news that Hathaway's vitals are still good, and that there is talk of moving him into the step down unit from ICU since he's showing signs of improvement. Oh, and Nell Hathaway is on her way.

When Lizzie gets back to the hospital, it is late morning. There she finds Hathaway is not alone. Lizzie waits in the doorway watching as Nell stands at her brother's bed. Lizzie is struck again by how very similar they are in appearance, both tall, angular and fair.

"Damn you, James. Damn you, damn you, damn you," Nell says, voice low and thick with emotion. She brushes Hathaway's hair off his forehead, her hand coming around to cup his cheek. "Leaving me behind again."

"Nell?" Lizzie says, as she enters the room. "I'm Lizzie Maddox, DI Hathaway's sergeant."

"Yes," Nell replies, blinking back the tears in her eyes as she turns around. "We met at Dad's funeral." She extends a hand which Lizzie takes between both of hers.

There are a couple of chairs in the room, and Lizzie thinks maybe in light of Hathaway's improvement, the nurse won't shoo them out. She sits and Nell follows.

"Mr Moody says you found James," Nell says. "He said you saved his life."

"I don't know about that. I just noticed he'd been gone a bit too long and went looking for him."

"I'm very grateful. I...I don't think I could have faced losing James so soon after Dad. I know he's not in the clear yet." Nell's eyes stray back to her brother's still form.

"He's doing better," Lizzie assures her. "They're moving him out of Intensive Care."

"I still don't understand why he joined the police," Nell says, shaking her head. "Then again, I never understood why he wanted to be a priest. Did you know he studied for the priesthood?"

"He mentioned it once," Lizzie says. He had been quite drunk when he dropped that little tidbit. "To be honest, I wasn't sure if he was being funny. He's quite the joker, you know."

"My brother?" Nell says, shaking her head. "James doesn't make jokes, at least not around me."

"Oh he's very quick and witty, though mostly when he's around Inspector Lewis. I call the pair of them the "Chuckle Brothers."

"James brought Inspector Lewis with him to the care home once. They took Dad fishing. He talked about it for days. It was very kind."

"DI Lewis is a great guy. He's out of the country right now. We haven't been able to tell him about your brother. At least now, I can tell him how much better he's doing."

They chat a while, comparing notes on Hathaway until a couple of hospital workers and a nurse come in. "We're moving Mr. Hathaway to the step down unit. His sedation has been reduced, so he should begin to come around, though the pain meds will keep him sleepy."

They wheel the bed down the hall, the Lizzie and Nell following like bridesmaids. They arrive at another area, much more a typical hospital ward. The movement has made Hathaway restless, his hands twitching every now and then. He moans a little and then settles down again. Lizzie leaves Nell by the bedside to call the office.

"Can I bring you a tea or coffee when I come back?" Nell shakes her head before turning back to watch her brother.

Lizzie talks to Moody, bringing him up to date on Hathaway. "That's good to hear. When he comes around, let me know and I'll send Grainger. Did Nell come?"

"She's here. Pretty shaken up, poor thing. She just lost her dad and now she almost loses her brother."

She returns to Hathaway's room as he continues in his restlessness. After a couple of hours, he starts to come around in earnest. His fingers pluck at the blanket and his legs shift under the covers. Nell stands by the bed, trying to still his hands. His eyes open as he comes to consciousness. Hathaway blinks as he looks up into his sister's face.

"Am I in hell?" he asks, sleepily. His voice sounds rough from disuse.

"Were you expecting heaven?" Nell asks, with a bit of an edge. James shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. "Good, then you'll not be disappointed. Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah," he says. Nell pushes the button to raise the bed a little and helps him drink from a plastic cup that the nurse had left ready.

"Would the devil give you a sip of water in hell, do you think?"

"I suppose not, " he says with a slightly loopy smile. "Thank you."

Nell turns and beacons Lizzie to come closer. "You gave us all a scare, sir," she says. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah," he says, with a sigh. "Marbury. He panicked when I questioned him. He was obviously more involved than we thought. I should have figured…should have realized..." He seems to be getting agitated as he tries to remember.

"It's okay, sir. Just rest," Lizzie says. "Grainger will be by to get your statement later."

Nell pushes the call button to let the nurse know James is awake. For the next hour, Hathaway is seen by doctors and assessed while Lizzie and Nell sit in the waiting room. Both of them are slightly giddy with relief. "I'd open a bottle of champagne if I had one," Lizzie says.

The doctor comes to tell them the news is all good. Hathaway's cognitive abilities are intact, which means he is still the smartest person in just about any room. His other organs are all functioning normally. The danger was from the blood loss and as that was now resolved, a full recovery is expected. According to the doctor, being young and athletic had helped him to escape permanent damage, smoking habit notwithstanding.

Hathaway grows tired very quickly after the examination. As his eyes start to close, Lizzie decides to return to the office for a few hours, promising Nell that she will be back the next morning.

The relief around the station is palpable. Lizzie can't walk two feet before someone tells her how happy they are to hear that Hathaway is on the mend. More embarrassing are the hand shakes as her coworkers say she saved her boss' life. She didn't do anything more than any other officer would have done. If she deserves credit, it's for being a worryguts.

She meets with Grainger and Moody, going over the details of the case. Grainger has issued an all ports warning for Marbury, who turned out to be the secret lover of the victim's wife. Marbury had falsified the signature on the large insurance policy for the deceased. As it was still early in the investigation, Hathaway had not made the connection before he went to the interview. The wife was now in custody.

Lizzie tells them that her boss was still a bit fuzzy headed, so Grainger agrees to wait until the next morning and interview Hathaway. Moody insists she go home and make an early night of it, for which Lizzie is grateful.

The next morning, Lizzie is walking into the hospital when her phone rings. It's Inspector Lewis, who sounds extremely worried. As she makes her way through the hospital, Lizzie tells him about finding Hathaway, and how he is finally out of danger and conscious. And she tells Lewis that she and Moody called Nell.

"Hathaway might not thank you for that, lass," Lewis says.

"He almost died, sir," she replies, tearing up as she remembers how terrified she had felt. "He flatlined twice in the ambulance. We didn't know what to do."

"I am so sorry you had to deal with that on your own," he says. "I would have done the same thing and called her."

"I can only imagine what she's going through."

"You and Moody did the right thing, Lizzie. Tell James I'm glad he's going to be okay."

She arrives at Hathaway's room and sees that he is awake. "You can tell him yourself, sir. He's right here."

She hands her phone to Hathaway, who had been picking at a bland looking breakfast. He breaks into a big smile when he hears Lewis' voice.

"I'm fine, Robbie," Hathaway says. "I walked the length of the hall this morning. Feel totally knackered now, but honestly, I'm doing well. The doctor said I can probably get out of here in a few days."

"Somehow I think you're downplaying the whole thing, but I'm glad you're on the mend. So, I understand your sister has been by. How has that been going."

Lizzie can hear Lewis through the phone as if it was on speaker. He is from a generation when people believed long distance required a loud voice.

"A bit of a mindfield, but not awful. Nell's attitude fluctuates between genuine concern and simmering rage."

"Sounds like you could use reinforcements. Laura and I are going to change our flight. We'll leave here as soon as we can."

"Robbie, that'll cost a fortune in fees. You leave in less than a week anyway. You'll be coming home to watch me sleep. Please just travel on your original schedule."

"What about when you're released?" Lewis asks.

"Nell and I talked last night. She'll take time from work and stay with me for a few days." Lizzie raises her hand. "And I think Maddox is signaling that she will help."

"You're sure? Laura and I will pitch in when we get home."

"I'll be fine, Robbie. One thing though. If I seem to be missing when you get home…"

"I know, I know. Check the garden for a long narrow James shaped mound of fresh soil."