Nocturnal Revelations

by Amanda S Green

  “Until you hear differently from me or from the brass, all leave is cancelled. Overtime is approved. We will find the bastard who shot our captain and we will work all our other cases. Now get to it. I’m heading to the hospital. Officer Murray, you’re with me. Be ready to leave in five.”

  With that, she moved to where Marie Duncan sat at the side of the room. Mac’s admin was normally a force to be reckoned with. Today, she looked like Pat felt, scared and angry. But she was also loyal, and Pat knew Mac held a special place in her heart. Without a word, Pat escorted her out of the bullpen. A few minutes later, they entered Mac’s office. Pat closed and locked the door behind them.

  “Marie, I don’t know anything more than I told the others,” she said before the woman could ask. “Right now, I need to know if Mac received any threats or anything out of the ordinary recently.”

  “Not that I’m aware of. I’ll check to make sure.”

  “Thanks.” Pat lightly rested a hand on the woman’s arm. “I have no doubt IAB will be sniffing around before long. Wysocki will use this as an excuse to dig into Mac’s cases and her life.”

  “She can try,” the older woman all but growled.

  Pat smiled and nodded. “I’m going to contact Chief Culver and the Chief of Ds. Once I have and they’ve signed off on it, we’re going to institute the same level of security here we had during the investigation into Mike’s murder. Are you all right with that?”

  “More than.”

  “Good.” Pat smiled and slid an arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick hug. “Start locking down the computers and any other electronics you or the captain have here. Same with paper files and records. I’ll contact the Chief and let him know. Then we’ll secure the office. I’ll leave a uniform on duty outside the door.”

  “I—”

  “I know you can handle Wysocki or any of her people, Marie, but I need you at the hospital. I’m not going to be able to stay once we know how Mac is. I want someone I trust to have her back in my place. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  Marie nodded once, her expression grim. Pat relaxed a little, relieved the woman understood. Much as Pat wanted to stay at the hospital, she had an investigation to run. One she had no doubt would bring her into conflict with IAB’s commanding officer yet again.

  And wouldn’t that be fun?

  Not.

  That meant she needed Marie at Baylor, being her eyes and ears.

  Ten minutes later, having spoken with both the Chief of Detectives and Chief Culver, Pat stood in the corridor, watching as Marie activated the locks on the outer door. Locks on Mac’s private office as well as the file area had already been activated. No one except Mac, Marie and Chief Culver had the codes. Anyone attempting to bypass the locks would be caught on surveillance. That was the best they could do, at least for now.

  “Officer Malinowski, no one gets inside without authorization from either me or Chief Culver. If they try, you will verify their information and then you will contact me. Understood?” Pat asked the uniformed officer taking his place to the right of the door.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Marie, Officer Murray is waiting for us in the parking garage. Ready?”

  The woman inhaled and nodded. As she did, Pat understood. They both would like nothing more than to turn the clock back and prevent the events of the last hour or so. Since that wasn’t possible, they had only one option: get to the hospital. She prayed they weren’t too late.

  4

  “Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!”

  He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. What he wanted to do was throw his head back and scream in frustration. He wanted to lay on the horn and force every idiot driver clogging the roads to get out of his way. But he couldn’t. He didn’t dare do anything to call attention to himself. Not if he wanted to stay a free man.

  Free!

  He snorted in derision. He hadn’t been free since he opened that e-mail a week earlier.

  A week? It seemed like a year. He still broke out into a cold sweat remembering the picture of his wife and kids with the target drawn on it. The implication had been clear. Someone had them in their sights. He lived in terror for two days, waiting for something to happen. Then the second e-mail arrived. This one got right to the point. They knew who he was and what he did. To prove it, the sender attached pictures of him in places he most definitely should not have been doing. Forget about the fact they’d get him sent to prison for years, assuming he survived long enough to stand trial. All he cared about was the fact his wife would never understand, much less forgive. The email ended with the simple yet chilling statement that they would be in touch.

  A day later, the third e-mail came. The instructions had been simple. After picking up the van in a specified location, he was to drive to Santos’ home. Using the gun he would find in the van, he was to kill her. If he did as instructed, he’d never hear from them again. If he failed. . . .

  He hadn’t wanted to do what they instructed, but they left him no choice. They warned him about trying to warn Santos, saying they had both of them under surveillance and would know if he reached out to her either in person or through other means. If that hadn’t been enough, they included more images of his family, including his children at school. The description of how they would suffer if he failed to do as they said made his blood run cold. They’d left him no choice.

  Even then, he’d done his best to warn Santos. He sent several warnings to her personal email account. He might not have been specific but if she was as good a detective as everyone said, she should have realized what he meant. Besides, it was all he could do. He couldn’t go to her. He couldn’t risk it. So he’d done what he could.

  It wasn’t his fault.

  No, it was all her fault. If she’d paid attention to his warnings, none of this would have happened. She could have used the emails sent to him to find the person responsible. Instead, she’d turned him into a killer.

  Damn her.

  Damn them all.

  He checked his mirrors and changed lanes. So far, so good. No flashing lights. No unmarked police cars approaching. But he needed to get off the main streets before someone reported seeing a van that matched the description of the one seen leaving the scene. He didn’t care what the anonymous person behind the emails said. He wasn’t going to drive the van across county lines and ditch it in some parking lot he wasn’t familiar with where he could be caught on camera. He certainly wasn’t going to keep driving in high traffic areas. No, he needed to ditch the van somewhere it wouldn’t be found for a while.

  First things first, he needed to find out what the cops knew.

  He glanced at the passenger seat and the portable police radio scanner sitting there. Returning his attention to the road, he reached over and turned it on. A moment later, Dispatch relayed requests to block traffic here and stop it there. The urgency in the dispatcher’s voice told him all he needed to know. He’d failed, at least for the moment. They wouldn’t be trying so hard to get a unit through morning traffic to the hospital if Santos still lived.

  Damn it!

  What the hell was he going to do? She’d seen him. If she survived, she could identify him.

  Fear ripped at him. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Sweat pooled at the base of his spine. Somehow, he had to figure a way out or his family would pay.

  “Get a grip,” he told himself.

  First things first. He needed to ditch the van before some cop decided to check it out. Then he’d make sure his family was safe. All he had to do was buy a little time until he could figure out how to get them all out of town without those bastards who put him in this situation figured it out.

  He could do it.

  He had to.

  5

  “We’re almost there!” Jael said.

  The SUV’s siren echoed off the buildings lining Gaston Avenue as she sped toward Baylor. As she neared Hall Street, she blew out a relieved breath. Squad cars blocked the
intersection from all traffic except her. Officers waved her through and then blocked Hall behind her. More units, marked and unmarked, lined the road. People, some in scrubs and others with cameras, phones and other recording devices pushed against the human cordon, trying to get a look inside the SUV.

  Damned vultures.

  “Hang on,” She sped down the drive to the Emergency Room entrance.

  As she braked, the ER doors slid open. A trauma team ran out with a gurney. At the same time, police cars pulled up, surrounding the SUV, protecting its occupants from prying eyes and cameras. A wall of blue formed, silent and grim, before she had a chance to climb out of the vehicle.

  Without a word, she raced to the rear of the SUV. Several officers joined her. The moment they opened the hatch, the trauma team approached.

  “What can you tell me?” Dr, Patek asked.

  Jael glanced at the tall, slender man. If anyone could save Mac, it was him.

  “Four shots, three penetrated at side, shoulder and neck. The fourth hit her mid-back. Her vest stopped it,” she said.

  The team worked to carefully maneuver Mac out of the SUV and onto the gurney. The moment they had, one of the nurses began taking her vitals. Another started an IV. The rails on the gurney were lifted and locked into place. Then, as one, the team raced into the Emergency Room, the gurney between them. A second wall of blue formed, an honor guard and escort to make sure their captain made it safely inside.

  As the doors slid closed behind the gurney, Jael turned her attention back to Patek. Jackson climbed out of the SUV and hesitated. Then both Chelsea and Brandon were at his side. Chelsea slid her hand into his and looked at her mother, fear in her eyes.

  “She was conscious briefly after I arrived on-scene. She didn’t remember much about what happened.”

  Patek nodded as if that didn’t surprise him. “Jackson, they’re going to evaluate her injuries and start getting the images we need to decide how best to proceed.”

  “Just save her, Doc.”

  “I’m going to do my best.” He rested a gentle hand on Jackson’s arm and then glanced at all the grim faces around him. “We’re going to do everything we can. For now, if you’re the praying type, it never hurts. If you can give blood, do so.”

  “We’ll do whatever you need, Doc,” Jael assured him.

  “Jackson, you’ll need to talk to the Admissions clerk. She’s waiting inside for you.”

  Jackson said nothing. He stood there, staring at the doors now separating him from his wife. Understanding, Jael drew a deep breath. She’d already asked so much of her kids and she was about to ask even more.

  “Chelsea, Brandon, take him inside. I’ll be there in a minute,” she said softly.

  Chelsea nodded. “C’mon, Uncle Jackson.” Gently, she urged him toward the sliding doors.

  “Mom?” Brandon looked older than his fourteen years and she wished she could turn back the clock and spare both he and his sister from the morning’s events.

  “Go on, son. I’ll be there in a minute.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’ll call the school and tell them you and your sister won’t be there today. Then I’ll call Moira and see if she can’t come for you.”

  He hugged her once more before running inside. Jael blew out a breath and turned her attention back to Patek. “I know I don’t have to say it, Doc, but standard protocol. Complete media blackout until the chief gets here and takes command.”

  Patek nodded. To anyone listening in, they were talking about hospital protocol for when an officer was injured. But there was another protocol, one known to only a few of them. That was the one Jael referred to. It was in place to protect those like Mac and Jackson from having their true natures revealed to the normals. The fact it also meant extra security, making it all but impossible for the shooter, or the media, to get to Mac was an added benefit.

  As Patek followed the others inside, Jael glanced around. Seeing a patrol officer she knew standing nearby, she motioned him over.

  “Kaplan, secure the SUV.” She handed him the keys. “Make sure no one gets close to it until a forensic team is here.”

  “Understood, Sarge.” He glanced around and nodded slightly. “Halstead, Gamez, you’re on the SUV. No one touches it and no one gets close enough to see inside unless they are part of the forensics team or have been cleared by Sergeant Lindsay. Trust me, I’ll make sure the sergeant gets first crack at the two of you if anyone from the media or the public gets close. I don’t want a single picture of it surfacing. If there’s anything left of you after the sarge finishes with you, then I’ll let Lt. Collins have a go. After that, you’ll get to deal with me and the rest of the division. Understood?”

  A slight smile touched Jael’s lips as she listened to Kaplan. Six months earlier, Mac talked with her about transferring him to Homicide or one of the other squads under her command. She’d seen something in him that impressed her and Jael knew she’d been right. He had exactly what it took to be a good cop—or a good DI. Jael made a mental note to talk to Pat about the young man. It was time to have him transferred to the squad to see exactly what he had in him. But that had to wait. Finding out who shot Mac and why took precedence over everything.

  She turned and hurried inside. Jackson stood a few feet away, Chelsea on one side and Brandon on the other. The Admissions clerk waited nearby, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts. Understanding, Jael moved in his direction.

  “Jackson, come on. You need to talk with the Admissions clerk now,” Jael said gently. “I need to report in and then I’ll join you.” As she spoke, she motioned for Chelsea and Brandon to go with the man.

  Jackson nodded and followed the clerk, the teens close behind. As they crossed the waiting area, Jael watched Jackson, her heart breaking. In that moment, he was a man dangerously close to losing it and she understood. Mac meant so much to all of them, but she was his wife, his mate. That meant he was dealing not only with his own fear but that of his jaguar as well. Somehow, she had to make sure they both maintained control, at least until they were somewhere private where secrets the public wasn’t ready to learn wouldn’t accidentally be revealed.

  Chel, text if he needs me before I get back. I need to update the Chief and a couple of others, she texted. A moment later, her phone dinged and she nodded. Chelsea understood. Relieved, Jael looked around for someplace private. She didn’t want anyone overhearing what she had to say.

  A moment later, she stepped into the ladies’ room and checked each stall to make sure she was alone. Then she pulled out her cellphone. As she did, she drew a deep, calming breath. As difficult as the last twenty minutes had been, what she was about to do might be even more so.

  “How is she?” Pat demanded the moment she answered the call. “And what the hell happened?”

  “You know as much as I do. Hell, by now, you probably know more.” She paused and ran a hand over her face. As she did, she released a long shuddering breath. Then, realizing Pat waited for her to say something, she continued. “I got to her house no more than a minute or two of her being shot. She took four rounds to the chest, side and back. The shooter either knew what he was doing or he was very lucky. Three of the shots penetrated above the edges of her vest. All look to have been from close range. So you know what sort of damage they could do, even the one that didn’t penetrate her vest.”

  She paused, giving Pat time to consider what she said. “Pat, it’s bad. Bad enough that I didn’t dare wait for an ambulance. The only reason she’s still alive is because of what she is. But even that might not be enough.” She paused and slammed the door shut when it began to swing open. As she did, she told whoever happened to be on the other side to find another restroom. She needed this one. At the same time, she heard Chelsea suggest the person give her a little time. Despite the seriousness of the situation, a smile of motherly pride at her daughter’s calm command touched her lips. “Pat, I don’t know if she’s going to make it,” she added softly.

  “I’m less than
five minutes out. The brass is on the way as well.”

  “Understood. Do you want me to go back to her place?”

  “No. Stay with Jackson. Make sure a perimeter is set up around ER and security is set on all entrances. I don’t want Jackson or any of the family being harassed by the media. Talk with hospital security as well as the ER supervisors. Impress upon them how disappointed we’ll be if anything about Mac’s condition or her identity leaks to the media.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “I’ve sent members of the squad to Mac’s house to start the investigation. The rest will come to the hospital as soon as they can. The DA’s Office is trying to get postponements on our court appearances today. Once we know more about Mac’s condition, I’ll make assignments re: hospital duty and this afternoon’s funeral. But you consider yourself on hospital or family duty until further notice.”

  Jael nodded even though Pat couldn’t see.

  “Get here soon, Pat. Jackson needs all of us right now.”

  “I’m almost there. Don’t leave him and make sure the doctors do whatever it takes to keep Mac alive – and make sure nothing else happens to her. You’re in charge until I arrive.”

  As she slipped her cellphone back into her pocket, Jael cursed long and hard. If she’d only been a few minutes earlier, none of this would have happened. She bent over the sink and hissed as she splashed cold water on her face. She had one more call to make before finding Jackson.

  “This is Flynn,” the man said a few moments later.

  “General, it’s Lindsay.” She swallowed hard. This was more difficult than she expected. “Sir, we have a situation.”

  For a moment, General Gerald Flynn said nothing. As she waited, Jael pictured him frowning into the distance, wondering what new emergency they faced this time.

  “Talk to me, Master Guns.”

  “Sir, approximately half an hour ago, someone went to Mac’s house and rang the bell. When she answered the door, they shot her four times at basically pointblank range. The good news is she was wearing her vest. The bad news is that three of the shots missed the vest and hit their target.”