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Fatal Evidence

Page 28

by Kari Lemor


  Easing back, he pulled Heather up. “Everything still attached?”

  “I think so. You said—aah!” She pointed to a detached foot that rested near her thigh. A skeletal foot.

  “Come on, let’s check how we did.” Kicking aside the debris, his breath released when he saw a much larger hole in the wall than had been there. Larger than when they’d first gotten here too. Perfect. Glancing at his watch, his heart tripped.

  “Ten minutes until the rest of them go off. Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along and half-shoved her through the hole. He picked up the flashlight then followed.

  “Up the stairs and outside. Get away from the building and see if you can find someone with a phone to call the cops.”

  As they got to the basement level, she whirled around. “Why are you telling me to do this? Where are you going to be?”

  “I’m not letting this building go without a fight. I’ve got ten minutes and if I can disarm any of these bombs, then I plan to do that. Now go.”

  He ran along the basement flinging aside wood and soon found the first bomb. Ripping the detonator out and tossing it aside, he raced on. Heather blocked his way.

  “Why the hell aren’t you gone yet?”

  “This is my building too. No way I’m letting you risk your life for it if I’m not willing to.”

  “I don’t want you to risk your life, princess. I want you to be safe.”

  “Too bad. You pull out the detonator. That’s all?”

  God, this woman was insufferable and so damn stubborn. Wasn’t that what he loved about her though?

  “Holy shit. Fine.”

  They ran around the basement finding only three bombs then sprinted up to the first floor.

  “I’ll head up to three and four while you do one and two. But don’t take too long. We only have a few minutes left.”

  Nodding, she sprinted off and he dashed up the stairs. He found three bombs on that floor, but the time was almost gone. His concern for Heather was far more than his concern for the building, so he rushed past the second floor, briefly checking if she was still there. Nothing. Not on the first either, and his glance out the window didn’t show her out there. Damn, had she gone up to the fourth?

  He sped back up the stairs, the two bombs on this floor sitting out in the open. There was nothing to hide them behind up here. Pulling out the first, he started for the second when flashing lights in the detonator caught his attention.

  Shit. Out of time. He turned to run but the explosion threw him across the room and then everything went black.

  Chapter 23

  Pulling the last detonator out of the bomb on the second floor, Heather ran behind a pile of lumber checking if there was anything back there. Nothing. Hopefully she’d gotten them all.

  Sound on the stairs told her Scott was probably on his way down. Good, maybe they’d have something left of this building after all. Once outside though, she didn’t see him. Where the hell had he gotten to? Had he run off to find a phone?

  Glancing around, her heart beat loudly in her chest. He hadn’t gone back inside, had he?

  “What happened?”

  Heather whipped around to see Jian and a few of his men walking down the sidewalk toward her. “What are you doing here at this time?’

  “Got word of something happening here. My men say it sounded like a small explosion. Holland charged me with keeping this place safe.”

  “We were locked in the sub-basement by the guy who’s been sabotaging everything. He planted bombs all over, but I think we got most of them. I don’t know where Scott is. I thought he came out.”

  Turning back to the building, she said, “I’m going back in to check.”

  Jian grabbed her arm but she pulled away. She had to find Scott. If they hadn’t gotten all the bombs…

  The windows above them shattered as a loud boom echoed through the early morning sky. Jian pulled her close to the building as shards of glass sprinkled down.

  “Call nine-one-one and get them here,” she yelled, jerking out of Jian’s hands. No time to waste. If Scott had still been inside—she didn’t even want to think of what might have happened.

  The stairs behind her groaned as Jian followed her up.

  “You should let one of us check this out first. There could be fire or more explosions. Holland will have my ass if you get hurt.”

  Not if he was already hurt. “The bombs were all set to go off at the same time. There shouldn’t be anymore.”

  Her lungs burned as she raced up flight after flight. Rounding the top of the stairs, she cautiously approached the doorway. Windows and part of the roof had blown out or caved in. A small fire burned near the wall. Debris littered the floor, an arm sticking out from under one large pile.

  “Scott.” Her cries bounced around the room as she sprinted over to him. She pushed aside the broken timber and reached for his neck.

  “Please be alive. Please.” A deep sigh escaped as blood pulsed through his veins. Weakly, but there.

  “Jian, he needs help. Now.” Her voice trembled in fear and panic.

  The gang leader and a few of his men were kicking aside the burning timbers trying to put them out. “We already called.”

  Not daring to move Scott, she simply hovered over him, caressing his face and whispering to him. “You need to be okay. Do you hear me? I promised you all sorts of things and I don’t renege on stuff like that.” She touched the cuts on his face, then kissed his cheek. “And you promised me you’d fight. Don’t you break that promise.”

  God, how badly was he hurt? Just knocked out like they’d been after her house exploded? Or was it worse? Was she worrying for nothing and he’d wake up in a minute to say something snarky? Please, let it be that.

  Sirens in the distance got louder, but she only looked at Jian, who nodded and sent one of his men to bring them up.

  “Help is here. You’ll be fine,” she sobbed, anxious that Scott hadn’t woken yet or even stirred. Why hadn’t he woken up?

  When the paramedics arrived, they tried to push her aside, asking if she was injured.

  “I was outside when it exploded. He’s fine, right?”

  “Let us do our job and we’ll know more in a few minutes.”

  Jian helped her up then led her toward two officers who tried to herd her downstairs.

  “No, I’m not leaving him.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood her ground, her eyes never leaving Scott. He still hadn’t come to.

  As the cops asked her questions and she filled them in on Stokinger and his connection to Victor Cabrini, she carefully watched what was happening with the paramedics. They’d started an IV and were strapping Scott onto a backboard.

  “Are they involved with the judge?” one cop asked, indicating Jian and his men who stood on the perimeter of the large space.

  Shaking her head, she said, “They keep an eye on this place for us. They’re here because of the earlier explosion when we got out of the sub-basement.”

  The dubious expression made her want to defend the street gang members, but the paramedics lifted Scott up and began to leave. No way they were going without her.

  Trotting down the stairs after them, she remembered her first time here when she’d tripped. Scott had picked her up and carried her. Made some silly comments and set her on fire with his touch. Now he was covered in blood and unconscious.

  “Is he going to be okay?” she asked as they loaded him into the ambulance.

  “We’ll know more when we get to the hospital.”

  They started to close the door but she shook her head, desperate. “I need to go with him.”

  “Not in here,” the paramedic answered. “If you don’t have a ride, I’m sure one of the officers would be happy to drive you.” He indicated the officer who had followed her down. T
he door closed and the vehicle took off, sirens blaring.

  Go, yes, she had to go too. Her car was around here some place. Where the hell had she parked? Her mind was muddled and tears slipped down her face. She had to stay with Scott.

  “Would you like a ride?” Jian said, taking her elbow and escorting her away from the building.

  A ride, yes, she needed a ride. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything more than that. Jian steered her toward an SUV and helped her get in. Why wasn’t she able to function? She needed Scott.

  “Is there anyone you should call? Holland’s family?”

  “Call? Yes, um, I should call Jack. That’s his cousin.” Looking around, she patted the seat next to her. “I don’t have a phone.” She knew that. Why was it such a surprise? God, she needed to get a grip.

  “Use mine.”

  Taking the cell phone he handed her, she stared at it for a minute. Jack. Yes, she needed to call Jack. What the hell was Jack’s number? Callie’s house. She remembered that number. Her fingers moved automatically over the screen, and then she waited for the phone to connect.

  “Hello?” Jack’s deep voice sounded cautious. It was an unfamiliar number. And it was close to five in the morning.

  “Jack, it’s Heather.”

  “What’s wrong and where have you been? Scott missed an appointment yesterday afternoon and Callie tried to call you all day.”

  “I’m on my way to the hospital.”

  “How bad are you hurt? Where’s Scott?”

  “I’m fine.” Her tears made her a liar. “It’s a long story but we found out who’s been sabotaging the mill. There was an explosion…and Scott…he’s in an ambulance, but he hasn’t woken up yet and he was covered in blood. I’ve got someone driving me there. I thought you should know.”

  Jack confirmed which hospital and said he’d meet her there. Good, she’d need some support. Eventually, though it seemed like time had stood still, they arrived. Jian walked her in then went off to find her some coffee while she spoke to the people at the desk.

  “The ambulance just brought my fiancé in. I need to know how he is. They wouldn’t tell me anything.” So she lied and they weren’t engaged. But no way were they keeping her from Scott due to a technicality. She’d had that happen when Jonathan was hospitalized last year.

  The woman at the desk took Scott’s name and told her to sit while she got the information. Wandering to a vacant chair, she sat and pulled her knees to her chest. He had to be all right. Had to be. He’d said he loved her and then…boom. There hadn’t been time to say it back. But she did love him. Had for some time. It’s why she’d been so afraid of him after their night in Vermont. He’d brought out too many deep feelings in her. Stupid fear. She could be independent and still be in love. They weren’t mutually exclusive.

  “Thought you could use this.” Jian appeared in front of her and the scent of coffee filled her nose.

  “You are a god. Thank you. And for bringing me here. And all you’ve done to help Scott. I know he’d appreciate it.”

  “No worries. Holland will be fine. He’s made of strong stuff.”

  Yeah, she had to believe that. Jian sat next to her, silent but supportive as she pulled herself together and attempted to stop the flood of tears that insisted on falling. When she thought she had herself under control, Jack and Callie flew in, Callie scooping her close for a hug. Or as close as Callie could get in her condition.

  “How is he?” Jack all but demanded.

  The flood started again. “I don’t know. No one’s told me anything yet.”

  “I’ll go get some answers.” Callie sat next to her as Jack stormed off.

  Jian stood, then bowed low. “You have family now. Here’s my number if you need me.” Handing her a card, he bowed again then left.

  She was about to tell him she had his number in her phone, but then remembered Stokinger had taken it. Reaching for her hand, Callie moved closer and kissed her cheek.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  That was Callie. Always a good friend and supportive, but never overbearing. No wonder Jack loved her so much.

  “Where’s Jonathan?”

  “Believe it or not,” Callie said with a grin, “your sister came over to stay with him. He wasn’t awake yet.”

  “Charlotte was up this early? My sister, Charlotte?”

  “She was up once I called her. And she wants to know what’s going on as soon as we know anything. She was worried when you didn’t come home last night. She admitted she hoped it was because you were with Scott.”

  “I was.” Her lip trembled and she bit it to keep it steady. “But we weren’t doing what she thinks we were.” Telling Callie about Stokinger and what had happened helped build her strength and keep her mind off the lack of information on Scott. Finally, Jack strode across the room, purpose in his step.

  “They’re prepping him for surgery. He’s got some internal bleeding that needs to be stopped. They said there’s a separate waiting room for that. Come on.”

  Helping Callie up first, Jack then held his hand out for her. She fell against him and his arms enveloped her. “He’s tough. He’ll make it, Heather.”

  She couldn’t do more than nod as she followed him to the new waiting room. It was smaller and more comfortable than the big Emergency Room. One and only one other person sat there reading a book.

  “Did they say how long it would take? What his chances were? Is he really going to be fine, or is he on the verge of death? I need to know so I can prepare myself.” She glanced at Callie. “You know how I like things planned and organized.”

  Jack slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Oh, so not good. He was preparing her for the “Scott’s about to die” speech. She didn’t want that one. She wanted the “it’s just a routine procedure and won’t take long at all” speech.

  “The doctor said he wouldn’t know until they got inside and took a look. He’s got a few possible fractures and a concussion. But he’s young and healthy and there isn’t any reason he shouldn’t pull through.”

  “You’re quoting directly from the doctor, aren’t you? Sounds too practiced.”

  “I’m not all that good with words. I need to borrow them occasionally.”

  They sat in companionable silence and she rested her head against the back of the chair, closing her eyes, but refusing to sleep. She needed to stay alert for when Scott came out of surgery.

  The sound of deep voices woke her. Had she fallen asleep? How could she do that with Scott under the knife?

  “Did Stokinger confess once they arrested him?” Jack was asking Drew. When had Drew gotten here? Glancing at the clock, she saw it was after eight. Damn, she’d been tired.

  “You got the judge?” she questioned, her nerves shot to hell. That man could not be allowed to roam free. Not after what he’d done to them. Drew moved to sit next to her. Callie had disappeared.

  “They picked him up in Florida about an hour ago. How are you feeling? That was quite an experience you had.”

  Ignoring his question, she faced Jack. “Any news on Scott?”

  His negative shake had her curling in on herself, resting her head on her knees. Let them think she was still tired.

  Drew patted her shoulder, then spoke to Jack. “Stokinger lawyered up once they got him. I still can’t believe what he did. He was a good friend of my dad’s.”

  “He pretended to help Scott so he could save his own skin.”

  “The bodies are being autopsied and they should have dental records to identify them soon.”

  “They didn’t all explode? I definitely had a few skeleton parts fly on me when the bomb detonated.” Shivering, she tried to get her mind off that gruesome detail.

  “Most of the skulls were still intact.”

  “You must be starving, swee
tie,” Callie said, walking in with a bag in her hands and a tray of coffee. “I would have gotten you something as soon as we got here but you nodded off. I figured sleep was more important than food at that point.”

  Drew got up to make room for Callie and he and Jack drifted off to the other corner of the room. She wanted to know what they were discussing, but for the moment her stomach took precedence over her curiosity. It had been more than a day since she’d eaten.

  “It’s only bagels and an egg sandwich. You choose first and I’ll take whatever you don’t.” Callie tipped her head to the side. “Unless you want them all. I can send Jack to get more.”

  The egg sandwich had more protein. She grabbed that and practically inhaled it. Between sips of coffee and bites of the egg and ham combination, she told her friend more details about what had happened while they’d been encased in the chamber.

  “It’s very Edgar Allan Poe and ‘The Cask of Amontillado.’ Remember we read that story in high school?”

  Heather laughed. “Yeah, and I remember Kayla Reems saying she was going to do the same thing to Mr. Peabody.”

  A scrub covered man entered the room, stopping them in their memories. Jack turned swiftly and Heather jumped up, heading over.

  “Mr. Holland.”

  Jack shook the man’s hand. “Scott?”

  At Heather and Callie’s presence, the doctor introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Ruiz, the surgeon who worked on Mr. Holland. We managed to get the bleeding stopped but he had quite a bit of damage we had to fix. A ruptured spleen and a small puncture wound to his left lung were the worst.”

  “He’ll be okay, though?” Heather needed to know.

  “It’ll be touch and go for the next few days. We’ll keep him in the ICU so he’ll be under constant care. But barring any unforeseen circumstances, in time, he should make a full recovery. We got to him fast enough and managed to do an arterial embolization. As long as there aren’t complications with that, he should be fine.”

 

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