Fly Away (Firefly Lane 2)

Certainly people didn’t call at 5:03 in the morning. Only bad news came at this hour.

Marah.

He lunged for the phone and answered. “Hello?”

“Is Kathleen Ryan there?”

Damned telemarketers. Didn’t they ever update their records?

“Kathleen Ryan passed away almost four years ago. You need to take her off your call list,” he said tightly, waiting for: Are you a decision maker in your household? In the silence that followed his question, he grew impatient. “Who is this?” he demanded.

“Officer Jerry Malone, Seattle police. ”

Johnny frowned. “And you’re calling Kate?”

“There’s been an accident. The victim has Kathleen Ryan’s name in her wallet as an emergency contact. ”

Johnny sat down on the edge of the bed. There was only one person in the world who would still have Katie’s name as an emergency contact. What in the hell had she done now? And who still had emergency contact numbers in their wallet? “It’s Tully Hart, right? Is it a DUI? Because if she’s—”

“I don’t have that information, sir. Ms. Hart is being taken to Sacred Heart right now. ”

“How bad is it?”

“I can’t answer that, sir. You’ll need to speak to someone at Sacred Heart. ”

Johnny hung up on the officer, got the hospital’s number from Google, and called. It took at least ten minutes of being transferred around before he found someone who could answer his questions.

“Mr. Ryan?” the woman said. “I understand you are Ms. Hart’s family?”

He flinched at the question. How long had it been since he’d even spoken to Tully?

A lie. He knew exactly how long it had been.

“Yes,” he answered. “What happened?”

“I don’t have all the details, sir. I just know she’s en route to us now. ”

He looked at his watch. If he moved quickly, he could make the 5:20 ferry and be at the hospital in a little more than an hour. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can. ”

He didn’t realize that he hadn’t said goodbye until the phone buzzed in his ear. He hung up and tossed the handset on the bed.

He grabbed his wallet and picked up the phone again. As he reached for a sweater, he dialed a number. It rang enough times to remind him that it was early in the morning.

“H-hello?”

“Corrin. I’m sorry to call you so early, but it’s an emergency. Can you pick up the boys and take them to school?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to go to Sacred Heart. There’s been an accident. I don’t want to leave the boys alone, but I don’t have time to bring them to you. ”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. ”

“Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one. ” Then he hurried down the hallway and pushed open the boys’ bedroom door. “Get dressed, boys. Now. ”

They sat up slowly. “Huh?” Wills said.

“I’m leaving. Corrin is going to pick you up in fifteen minutes. ”