"What happened?"

"I don't know. She sounded odd and she said she didn't want to die. Frank, can you and Joe meet me at her house?"

"We're on our way Chet."

The next ten minutes were the most agonizing minutes of Chet's life. When he finally pulled the beat up old jalopy into the driveway, he barely bothered to put it in park before he jumped out and ran up to the door.

He banged on the door frantically as he saw in his periphery the Hardy's van pull in behind Chet's car. After several long terror-filled moments the door opened and Rex Avery frowned at him tying his robe around his waist. "What's going on? What's the meaning of this?"

Chet pushed past him. "DEVON?!"

"Impertinent young man. Devon is asleep. I really must ask you to leave."

"She called. Something is wrong."

Frank and Joe ran in. "Where is she?"

Chet didn't answer but began throwing open each door with his good arm. Stepping into one room, he shouted out in alarm for Frank and Joe to hurry. The two brothers rushed in to find Chet kneeling next to Devon's bed. The teenage girl was sprawled across the bed unconscious. Her skin was as pale as newly fallen snow and her breathing was dangerously shallow and labored. Her lips were turning blue.

Frank pushed Chet aside and checked her pulse and respiration. "Chet call 911, we need to get her to the hospital. Joe, help me get her on the floor. We may need to do CPR."

Both teenage boys sprang into action at Frank's crisp orders.

Rex stared at them from the doorway, his face full of horror at what he was witnessing. "Dear Lord, what has happened?"

Frank started assisting with her breathing but glanced at the night table next to the bed. A medicine bottle was overturned and a couple of small white pills were spilled out onto the surface. He frowned. "What is that?"

"I'm not sure off hand. Devon hasn't been on any medication since right after DeLaney's death."

"The ambulance is on its way." Chet reported hanging up the phone. He hated that his arm was in the sling preventing him from being able to do more. "What can I do?"

"Don't touch anything but see if you can read the name on that prescription bottle." Joe suggested. He held her wrist lightly in his hand, grateful that there was a pulse but worried about the inconsistent fluttery feel of the blood as it passed over the bone he was touching.

"It says Ativan."

Frank nodded and concentrated on breathing with Devon, helping her get an adequate supply of oxygen to her lungs. He could hear the sirens in the distance. He glanced up at Chet between breaths. He could tell how scared his friend was and he couldn't blame him. He had to find something to occupy Chet to keep the worried teen from going out of his mind with worry.

"Chet go show the paramedics the way in." Then as an afterthought he added. "Mr. Avery, you may want to get dressed. I'm sure the police will want to talk to you."

For a moment Avery just stood there. He shook his head. "I never thought she'd go this far. I knew she wasn't well but I never expected this."

Frank bent down and was about to open her mouth again when he noticed the early beginnings of what appeared to be fingerprint bruising along her jaw line. Had he done that when he tried to breathe for her? Somehow he didn't think so.

The paramedics entered the bedroom pulling a stretcher loaded with equipment. The head medic knelt beside Frank as his partner readied the oxygen and the heart monitor. "What happened?"

Frank filled him in on the phone call and on what they had found when they arrived. He also mentioned the pills. The medic nodded and turned to his partner. "Looks like we have a possible OD. I'll start the O2 and heart monitor. You take the bottle to the rig and radio in to Medical Control for instructions."

The second medic grabbed the medicine bottle and left the room. Joe stepped from the room where Con Riley had just arrived. The officer seemed surprised to see Joe there. His eyes widened. "Devon Marshand again?"

Joe nodded as Rex Avery emerged from his bedroom wearing jeans and a navy pullover. "How is Devon?"

"The medics are working with her now. How did this happen, Mr. Avery? When I dropped Devon off this afternoon, she was fine."

"I know. When she came back this afternoon she was happier than I've seen her in years. I was glad because I've been really worried about her lately. I felt like maybe finally her friendship with your friend would be what she needed to get passed what happened to David, Leeann and DeLaney. But then after supper she got quiet. I tried to ask her what was wrong and she said she was just tired from the accident. She said she was going to bed. I didn't question her but I guess I should have. I can't believe Devon would do something like this." Rex Avery looked appropriately upset but for some reason he rubbed Joe the wrong way.

"Clear the way!" The medic called out as he exited the bedroom pulling the stretcher with him.

Joe forced himself to look at the girl. She was lying still as death as the second medic depressed a blue ambu bag connected to a tube in her mouth once every five seconds. Frank was at the other end of the stretcher. Joe didn't understand the squiggly lines on the heart monitor lying across her legs but the slow erratic motions couldn't be a good sign.

Chet followed the stretcher looking as pale as Devon did. Joe gave Avery one quick look and turned to Con. "I don't think Chet needs to drive this upset. I'm going to make sure he gets to the hospital okay. We'll be there if you need us."

A few minutes later, Joe was behind the wheel of Chet's jalopy following Frank as the older brother followed the ambulance at a safe distance. Joe glanced over at Chet. "She's going to be okay."

Chet nodded. "I know. She has to. I don't think I could take it if something happened to her. Not now that we are finally have a chance together. But Joe this doesn't make sense. Devon wouldn't try to kill herself."

Joe nodded. "I know, Buddy. Something about this whole thing seems fishy to me. Hopefully we'll know more once we get to the hospital."

But at the hospital, all they could do was sit and wait. It was almost two hours later before a doctor emerged from the exam room to speak to Rex Avery. "She's a very lucky young lady. Ativan is not a drug to mess with when it comes to overdosing."

"What is Ativan?" Chet asked impatiently. The doctor glanced at him.

"It's an anti-anxiety drug. The prescription was made out to her but it was filled over four months ago. I don't know how many were in the bottle."

"She hasn't been taking Ativan since she came to stay with me." Rex offered. "Her psychiatrist put her on Ativan when she left the hospital last year. She was on it for three months and he weaned her off. I think he may have put her back on it after DeLaney died. I didn't even know she had the pills with her. I should have prevented this somehow."

"Is Devon okay, Doctor?" Chet asked, ignoring Avery.

"She's still unconscious. We pumped her stomach and we have her on oxygen and a heart monitor just to be safe. We are sure she didn't take enough to put her in a coma so that is a good sign. I think she'll make a full recovery in a few days."

Chet smiled in relief. "That's great. Can I see her?"

The doctor shook his head. "Not tonight. The nurses are moving her to a room now. Mr. Avery, if you'll come with me there are a few things we need to discuss."

Once Joe and Frank were alone with Chet, Frank shook his head. "This doesn't make sense to me. When she left our house this afternoon there was no indication that she would do something like this. In fact seemed very happy."

"Devon didn't try to commit suicide." Chet insisted. "Someone did this to her."

Joe turned to Chet. "Tell us again exactly what she said when she called you."

Chet repeated the conversation word for word. Joe shook his head and jammed his hands in his pockets. Devon's cry for help seemed ominous but he didn't say so. Chet was worried and upset; he didn't need to hear that it did sound like something had moved Devon to try something desperate.

Frank said nothing but it was clear by his expression that he was lost in deep thought. He wondered, now that his sole attention wasn't needed to be on saving Devon, about the bruises around her chin. It looked almost like someone had forced her mouth opened. But why? To force her to swallow pill after pill that could send her into a coma or to her death? But who and why?

Rex Avery returned, his expression grim. "The doctor is putting her on a suicide watch. As soon as she recovers he's going to recommend that she be placed in the psychiatric unit for evaluation."

Chet's expression turned hostile. "You can't do that. She's not crazy."

Rex held up his hands. "I don't want to but she's obviously a danger to herself. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her when I could have prevented it."

Suddenly Frank remembered what Devon had told them before she left. With her partial emancipation status, the only way anyone could commit her without her consent was if she were a danger to herself. Could the person who was causing the accidents have tried to kill her by making it appear she had committed suicide? If she died, his problems were forever solved. If not and she was committed, he didn't have to worry about her identifying him. After all, who would take the word of a mental patient seriously? Before he could voice his thoughts or even fully form them, Chet went ballistic.