security detail to go party with her friends. Tiffany briefly tried to think of a way to avoid his wrath, but she knew she deserved whatever punishment he'd decide to hand out.
The door opened again, and a series of flashes illuminated the thin curtain enveloping her.
A nurse, wearing fuchsia scrubs and sporting short salt and pepper hair, bustled around the cloth barricade. "I'm sure you're used to all this attention, Tiffany, but for an old weary woman like me, it's making me crazy."
Tiffany smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm surprised the cops haven't cleared them out already."
The nurse nodded. "They're working on it. Last I heard they were calling for a sergeant in case they had to get aggressive with the press. I'm Nancy," she said, pulling a wheeled stool over to sit in front of Tiffany. She looked into Tiffany's eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm from the SART team. SART stands for Sexual Assault Response Team. I've been sent in here to determine whether or not you were sexually assaulted during your abduction. You seem like a smart girl and very brave. Do you have anything you need to tell me?"
Tiffany shook her head. "No. Nothing like that happened to me. I'm fine. Have you talked to my friend Brenda?"
"Not yet. Why? Is there something I need to know there?"
Tiffany related how her friend had been gang raped. "I've known Brenda for almost ten years. She'd barely talk to me about it and wouldn't give me details, so she might try to hide it from you."
"Thanks. I'll be careful with her, and I won't mention you're the one who told me."
"Thank you."
The door burst open, and within seconds she was in her father's arms. He was sobbing into her hair, holding her so tightly she was having trouble getting air. Preston's aide, Bain, stood off to the side, watching.
"Dad, I can't breathe."
He relaxed his grip and pulled back so he could look in her eyes. "I've been out of my mind with worry. He bent down and fixed his gaze on hers. "Are you okay? Did they…?"
Tiffany quickly shook her head. "No, Dad. I'm fine."
"Are you sure? What about your blood numbers? Any problems there?"
"I'm feeling tired, but I'll be okay."
The nurse, who'd moved out of the way when Preston rushed in, stepped forward to Tiffany's side. "I've got to go check on the detective who got shot. I'll be back in a few minutes. Is there anything you need before I go?"
"No, I'm fine," Tiffany said. "Did you say an officer got shot?"
"I'm not sure of the circumstances, but they brought her here because she was related to your rescue." The nurse smiled and then headed toward the door. "I'll be right back."
Her father smiled, then looked over at Bain.
Bain stepped forward. "Tiffany, do you think after we get your hair fixed up and get you some fresh clothes, you'd be able to do a short press conference in the hospital courtyard? You wouldn't have to say anything," he quickly interjected. "All you would have to do is sit in a wheelchair and look pretty. It would be a good opportunity for your father. His constituents need to know that now you've been found, he can get back to work running the state without distraction."
Tiffany looked at her father, who gave her an encouraging smile.
Her cheeks cooled as color drained from them. She wanted to tell her father no, she was too tired. Memories of her mother came to mind. She remembered the last interview her mother and father had done with Barbara Walters just days before her mother died. Tiffany had always looked at that interview as testament to her mother's courage. Now, she saw it in a new light. Her father had used it as publicity, just as he wanted to use her now.
Her father was an insensitive, selfish jerk. There was no doubt about that. But he'd been that way her whole life. It's just the way things were for her…and for her mother too.
One of the last things her mother had said to her was, "Your father is like a child, Tiffany. In his world, it's all about him. He'll need you to get to the White House. You must promise to be there for him. I can't be there, so I'm asking you to do it for me."
At the time, Tiffany had readily agreed. She would have promised her mother anything. But now, after all the trauma she'd been through, her father, realizing she was safe, wanted her to pick up like nothing had happened. Apparently, he didn't care people had gotten hurt because of her. She cared, and she had to make it right.
"If we hadn't found you when we did," her father was saying, patting her hand, "I was actually going to resign as governor. Thankfully, it didn't come to that."
Tiffany inwardly cringed at his tactlessness. "You know Dad, Mom always said that teenage girls are drama queens. I think you've got me beat by a mile," she said, giving her father a small smile. "I promised mom I'd help you get to the White House, and that's what I intend to do. But first," she said giving her dad a pointed look, "I've got some business to take care of and you're going to help me do it—before I help you reassure the citizens of California you can do your job."
MADDIE – 108
I couldn't believe Travis was dead. I lay in a hospital bed, looking up at fiberglass ceiling panels trying to decipher a recognizable shape in the decorative holes scattered on the tile's surface. The impossible task kept me from thinking. I had an empty ache in my heart, or maybe the Lidocaine they'd shot me with was wearing off.
I hadn't realized that during the shootout I'd been hit. It wasn't a serious wound. A bullet had creased my left breast deep enough that I'd needed thirty-two sutures. They'd actually brought in a plastic surgeon to stitch me up.
I'd been alone in the emergency room bed for at least twenty minutes. I knew no one really wanted to comfort the widow of a dead officer. That, or they were waiting for the chief, Marlon Fryer, to make an appearance. Hell, he was probably still out at the shooting scene. What a mess. I still didn't know what was going on. I was in the dark as to why the mayor and some former gangster had thought it necessary to kidnap me, then want to shoot each other. But from what Travis said, he'd upset their plans.
There was a slight tap at the door and my partner, Darius, came in. His mouth was set in a thin slash, and the muscles in his jaw jumped when he clenched his teeth. I tried not to see the unshed tears pooled in his eyes. But I did see them, and their presence caused my eyes to fill, too.
"Maddie, I'm so sorry." He came over to the bed, leaned down and hugged me. "Travis was a good cop and I know if he had to go out, he'd want to do it rescuing you."
"Stop! Don't say any more," I cried, tears streaming down my face. "I can't think about it. What I want to know is why it happened. What the hell was going on, Darius?"
He grabbed a nearby box of tissues and offered it to me. I accepted it gratefully.
"We're still trying to figure it all out. But this is what I know at this given moment – and believe me, the situation has been extremely fluid." He paused when a nurse popped her head in the room, then left without saying anything. "First, you need to know we've recovered Tiffany Truesdale and her friend Brenda. Everything with Tiffany's health seems to be checking out okay for now. Overall, both girls were in pretty good shape, but Brenda had been sexually assaulted – multiple times. "
I shook my head in disgust. "What did the mayor and Zepeda Sorriano have to do with their abduction?"
"Right now, we don't think there is any connection. We were right in our investigation that Drejohn had the girls. The plan went down just as we set it up at the Temple Street Towers, at least as far as getting the girls. The two suspects decided to shoot it out, and they lost."
I wasn't feeling generous and merely shrugged, then immediately winced in pain.
"I knew something had to be wrong when you abandoned your assignment. But I've got to tell you I was really pissed." At least my partner had the decency to look a little sheepish. "I was worried, and kept trying to get ahold of you, but then I had the girls to deal with, the crime scene at the hotel, brass everywhere…" his voice tapered off.
"And you thought I'd let you down."
<
br /> "No," he sat down on the bed next to me and took my hand. "I was worried. Obviously with good reason."
I nodded. "Does anyone know what was going on with the mayor and Sorriano?"
"Turns out Pilar Luna and Sorriano grew up in the same neighborhood. We're not exactly sure of their relationship back then. What we have learned is that once she became mayor, she used her political clout to get Sorriano's brother released early from prison."
"Why would she do that?" I asked.
Darius shook his head. "We're still trying to put the pieces together, but rumors in the neighborhood indicate there may have been pressure from the barrio for Pilar to prove she hadn't forgotten her roots." My partner ran his hand across the back of his neck. "It sucks, too. The asshole was a child molester and hadn't been out a month before he re-offended. I don't know how she did it, but the mayor got the D.A. to drop the charges down to a misdemeanor and they didn't revoke his parole."
"What in the hell was the D.A. thinking?"
Darius shrugged. "You know how it is in politics. You do me a favor and I'll pay you back next election." My partner sat up straighter and his face brightened. "But we're probably going to be able to close the McCall murder…and you're going to hate yourself when I tell you."
"What?"
"What's that famous phrase? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"The mayor was circling the drain when the ambulance arrived. They loaded her up and had some
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