There was a long pause and then Tate paled. Dash rushed to where Tate stood, trying to hear Chessy’s voice, but Tate held it too close to his ear for Dash to tell anything.
“Goddamn it. No, you aren’t going anywhere. No, Chessy! I’ll be right over. Don’t you dare leave the house. One accident is enough. I don’t want you driving when you’re this upset.”
Dash’s knees buckled and he had to grab his desk to keep from hitting the floor.
Tate hung up and then fixed Dash with a cold stare.
“The hospital just called Chessy. Apparently they saw she was the last call on Joss’s cell and they called her. Joss has been in a car accident. It appears to be serious. They wouldn’t comment on her condition over the phone, but they asked that Chessy or her closest family member get to the hospital as quickly as possible.”
“I’m going,” Dash bit out. “What hospital? I can be there before you go home and get Chessy.”
Tate looked at him, anger brewing in his eyes. Then he blew out his breath. “Hermann Memorial. The ER.”
Dash didn’t wait for anything more. He grabbed his keys and ran out the door to the bank of elevators. Kylie called out as he passed her office, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t have time to explain, even if Kylie should know. Chessy would call her later. For now, his only purpose was to get to Joss and pray he wasn’t too late.
THIRTY
WHEN Dash strode into the emergency room, he immediately demanded to know Joss’s condition and if he could see her. A police officer was standing close to the reception desk, and when he heard Dash say Joss’s name, he motioned for Dash.
Frustrated by the delay, he stepped aside with the cop.
“Do you know how she is?” Dash asked bluntly. “Did you work the scene? What the hell happened?”
The police officer sighed. “Can I ask the nature of your relationship to Mrs. Breckenridge?”
“I’m her fiancé,” he lied. “She lives with me.” Another lie. “I saw her just this morning, not long before this apparently happened. I left for work and now this.” At least that much was the truth.
“Was she upset about anything? Under duress? Stressed?” He paused a moment. “Do you have any reason to believe that she’s suicidal?”
“What?” Dash asked incredulously. “What the fuck are you getting at?”
The cop looked uncomfortable. “There were no signs of tire marks to indicate she braked. She hit a tree dead-on. Going at least forty-five miles per hour in a residential zone.”
“And you think she tried to kill herself?”
“I’m examining all possible leads. Until I speak to Mrs. Breckenridge myself, there’s no way to determine the cause of the accident. But you could help by letting me know her emotional state when you last saw her. I understand she’s widowed. Could she be depressed over the loss of her husband?”
Dash was at a loss for words. Her emotional state? She was upset. Extremely so. Hell, he’d all but kicked her out of his house. And then she’d wrecked. Good God. Could she have done it purposely? How the hell else would she hit a tree dead-on going that fast and no signs of braking?
“I have no idea,” Dash said numbly. He’d like to be able to defend Joss, but who the hell knew what was going on in her head?
Guilt clutched him like a fist. He should have never left her this morning. He’d been angry, absolutely. But he should have calmed down, and they should have discussed it like two rational adults. Only he hadn’t been rational. Whether or not she’d tried to take her own life, the entire thing was Dash’s fault.
But he couldn’t contain his fury that she would have given up. Have been so weak. That wasn’t the Joss he knew. Or thought he knew.
He turned from the police officer and strode back to the desk, planting his hands down on the surface.
“I want to see Joss Breckenridge. Now.”
“I’m sorry, sir, the doctors are working on her now. If you’ll wait in the waiting area, I’ll call you back the minute you’re allowed to see her.”
“What do you mean ‘working on her’?” Dash demanded. “What’s wrong with her? How badly is she injured? Is she going to live?”
The clerk’s face shone with sympathy. “I know it’s hard waiting and not knowing, but I assure you, our physicians are doing their absolute best, and as I said, the moment I know anything I’ll inform you at once.”
Dash threw up his hands and paced back into the waiting area, but he couldn’t sit. How could he? It was déjà vu all over again. Another day. Three years ago. Same hospital. Same horrible wait only for the worst news. Carson dead. They’d been unable to save him. His injuries had been too extensive.