by Jodie Bailey
“Are you sure he’d want me to write about this?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you first. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Might be something you want to discuss with him.”
“I will. Eventually.” Gwen deflated in the chair, her forehead creased. “There’s something else. Before Deacon landed in the hospital, we saw on the news where someone killed John. That was one of the reasons he wanted to talk to you the other day, but then he acted like he regretted saying something.”
Casey nodded once. The news had run the story of the murder without giving any details about the beating beforehand. No need to tip their hand.
She fought a shudder. It would be nice if she could be as ignorant as the rest of the area about the state of John’s body when he died.
Reaching down, Gwen pulled a small folded piece of paper from her purse and passed it to Casey. “I don’t know much about this but maybe you do.”
Casey unfolded the paper and read the hastily scrawled words written there. Ketamine. Fentanyl. “These two came up in the story I interviewed Deacon for the first time. They’re drugs used for sedation or pain relief. Fairly common. Ketamine especially has found its way to the streets as a recreational drug. An overdose of either one can slow heart rate and respiration down to dangerous levels.”
“That’s what happened to Deacon.”
Casey’s fingers closed tighter around the paper. “He’s using these?” Ketamine especially was tricky. What might drop one man into extreme sedation could kill another. That kind of unpredictability might have saved Deacon’s life.
“I don’t know, but it’s what almost killed him. Somebody got him in the neck when he was leaving his apartment. The docs checked. There’s a mark, a small one, right by his jugular.”
The hair on Casey’s arms stood, a cold wave running through her. First John at his house, then Deacon... “Somebody tried to kill him.” Which meant someone was definitely after the team, and Travis could be in greater danger than she’d thought. Casey wanted to run to her Jeep and press the pedal to the floor to get to Travis and warn him things were growing worse by the second.
Gwen’s mouth was set in a grim line. “It looks like Deacon was targeted. And when the doctors checked his system, those two drugs are what they found.” For the first time, she grew bold enough to look Casey in the eye. “The two of you went looking for him, and if you hadn’t, whoever wanted him dead would have succeeded. They didn’t. So both of us owe you.”
Casey dropped her hands into her lap and dug her fingernails into her palms. No, these shadow people hadn’t succeeded in taking out Deacon on their first attempt. But John’s death still haunted her waking and sleeping thoughts, and there was no doubt that since whoever had tried to kill Deacon had failed, they would definitely try again. She shoved away from her desk and stood. “Who’s with Deacon now?”
“When I left, there was a police officer there. He wanted me to step out while they spoke, so I thought it was a good time for me to come and talk to you. Why?” Fear edged Gwen’s question. “What do you think is going on?”
“I think Deacon’s still in danger and shouldn’t be alone.” Casey grabbed her cell phone as she shoved away from her desk and searched her recent calls, looking for Travis’s number. She stopped and looked at Gwen. “Follow me to the hospital.” And pray we’re not too late.
FOURTEEN
“Jankowski, tell me one more time.” Travis sat in his chair and looked at the young private standing in front of his desk. Some things would never make sense, including young soldiers and some of their weekend antics. Even though the man in front of him had acted like he had no sense of his own, at least the momentary diversion kept Travis from thinking what an idiot he’d been with Casey this morning.
He shoved the thought from his mind and focused on his soldier. Kid had probably never been in trouble before. He was squared away but young and still a little bit invincible.
Behind Jankowski, Lucas sat at the platoon leader’s desk waiting for Travis to wrap up so they could go to lunch, but Travis knew better than to look at him. The tension that had built between them earlier had dissipated with the absurdity of the moment, and both of them would start laughing like a couple of high school kids. “How is it you lost your car? Not your bicycle or your skateboard or even your keys. Your car. It’s not like you could shove it in your pocket or leave it on a bar somewhere.”
Private Jankowski stared at a spot over Travis’s head. “I don’t know. It’s like I told my squad leader, it’s just gone. It was in a parking lot downtown, and now it’s gone.”
Travis propped his elbow on the chair and gripped his chin, wishing he had time to mess with the kid a little bit more, but his phone had vibrated about five times in his breast pocket, so it had to be somebody needing him pretty badly.
He said a quick prayer nothing had happened to Casey. His fingers itched to check, but he couldn’t until he’d finished his job. “You know, Private, I can’t see your future or anything, but I hear things, and I can promise you this. You keep drinking the way you’ve been drinking, and you’re going to lose a whole lot more than your car.”
Jankowski started to speak, but Travis didn’t give him the chance. “Don’t bother telling me you were sober last night. You weren’t. I already know. Nobody sober loses a vehicle. The saving grace for you is you lost it so you didn’t drive it. Get behind the wheel after a night like you clearly had last night and you won’t want to be seeing me the next day, you hearing me?”
Nodding once, Jankowski let his gaze bounce to Travis’s then to the wall above his head, ready to get out of the room. No telling why. He’d hit the hallway and have to endure the verbal hazing his buddies certainly had waiting for him. This little lecture was going to be the easy part of the kid’s day.
Travis aimed a finger at the door. “If I were in your shoes, I’d go find my phone and start calling tow companies. I’m going to make an educated guess one of them has your vehicle.”
Without another word, Jankowski turned and left the room, making an obvious effort to keep his head high.
Lucas waited several beats before he spoke, the corner of his mouth twitching as though his amusement wasn’t going to stay inside much longer. “Lost his car? Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was.” Travis yanked open the breast pocket of his uniform and jerked his phone out. “I think it’s a first for me.”
“Both of us did some dumb things, but I’m pretty sure neither of us lost anything as big as a vehicle.” Lucas shook his head and stood, ready to get moving. “Who’s so desperate to get in touch with you? I could hear your phone buzzing from here.”
Travis’s hand tightened on the device. “Casey.” Seven missed calls from Casey, but no texts or voice mails. Deacon’s warning rang like a fire alarm in his memory.
Surely not. He was jumping to conclusions. He had to be, because anything else was too much to think. Maybe she’d decided what had happened between them this morning wasn’t such a bad thing after all and wanted to talk.
Doubtful. Either she was boiling mad over the way he’d kissed her or she was in trouble. Since Casey tended to have a slow burn that built over days, anger probably wasn’t the answer. Something had to be desperately wrong for her to turn to him when she’d made it clear she was turning away this morning. The desk drawer squealed in protest as Travis yanked it open and grabbed his truck keys then stood, pressing the screen to return her call.
Across the room, Lucas pulled his maroon beret from his leg pocket, preparing to follow Travis wherever he was headed. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” He held the phone to his ear as it rang until voice mail kicked in, then cut the call and tried again. “She’s not answering.” Standing beside his desk, he squeezed his keys tighter, digging the
jagged edges into his palm. He was helpless, unable to go anywhere or do anything without knowing where she was.
His past failures weighed on him. He couldn’t miss the cues again. Not now. Come on, Casey. Answer.
Lucas was at attention, as ready to get moving as Travis. “Want me to call Kristin?”
Pressing the screen to shut off the sound of Casey’s voice mail, Travis nodded once. “Can’t hurt. I’m going to her office to—” The phone vibrated in his palm and nearly fell from his hand.
He glanced at the screen. Casey. Holding the phone to his ear, he strode for the door. “Are you safe? Where are you?”
“Headed to the hospital.”
His heartbeat quickened and he practically ran out the office door, Lucas close on his heels. “What happened?”
“Nothing yet. But things aren’t good.” The more she talked about Deacon’s condition, the faster Travis walked.
“Ketamine and fentanyl?” Travis stopped at the door that exited the company building and glanced around to make sure no one was in the immediate area. With lunch having started a couple of minutes ago, all the soldiers had vanished until one. He tilted the phone so Lucas could hear. “Fentanyl I’ve heard of, but what’s ketamine?”
“I called a source from my addiction story to double-check. That’s why I didn’t answer you when you first called. It’s an anesthetic. In small doses, it can cause disassociation and hallucinations and some pretty nasty side effects. High enough doses can knock somebody out. It’s becoming a hot commodity with the younger crowd, pretty easy to get on the street and used in a cocktail to create designer drugs. Stolen from veterinary clinics a lot. Mixed with fentanyl in the right proportions, it’s lethal.”
“Definitely not something Deacon would have mixed himself unless he was suicidal.”
“Exactly. I’m heading to the hospital now to make sure he’s not alone. Gwen’s behind me.”
“No.” Tugging his beret onto his head, Travis shoved through the door into the sunlight, squinting against the brightness of a Carolina noon. The last thing she needed to do was go to the very place Deacon had warned them away from. “Lie low. Call the cops and have their man stay with Deacon. Don’t you dare get in the middle of this. Somebody’s out for blood.”
“Gwen’s already called ahead and someone is with him, but somebody who knows what’s going on should be there, too. Besides, I’m not the one in danger. You are. It’s pretty clear now this is about your team, don’t you think?”
He should have told her about what happened last night, but he’d kept it from her, trying not to add any more stress to the situation. “Stay out of this, Case.” He wasn’t about to risk losing her, especially not since he was figuring out exactly how much he needed her. The thought ripped through him, hot and cold at the same time.
She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke again, her voice was firm. “A man’s life is at stake.”
“And so is yours.” Travis yanked open the driver’s door of his truck and looked across the interior at Lucas, dipping his chin toward the other man’s phone. “Call the hospital. Make sure they paid attention when Gwen called and they’re getting somebody to Deacon’s room now.” He tilted the phone speaker closer. “Casey, listen to me. There’s no reason for you to go there.”
“I’m going.”
“Then stay in the car when you get there and wait for me.”
“What can you do that I can’t?”
Travis pulled his head back as though he was dodging a blow. Casey wasn’t usually combative. In fact, almost never. She was either desperate because of the situation or furious with him about this morning. “I can have your back.”
Her silence said everything Travis didn’t want to hear. He’d failed to have her back before. Why should things be any different now?
Because he was a different man. And he wasn’t letting her walk alone into danger.
FIFTEEN
On the third level of the cramped hospital parking deck, Casey’s Jeep was empty.
Travis planted his fists on his hips to keep from pounding his palm on the hood of her vehicle. He should have known she wouldn’t stay put after she’d all but hung up on him earlier.
Lucas stood at the bumper of the Jeep and crossed his arms. “Looks like she didn’t listen to you any more than Kristin listened to me when somebody was after her last year.”
“Yeah, well, why should she?” Travis turned on one heel and strode for the stairs at the opposite corner of the parking deck, his bootfalls echoing in the concrete structure.
“Because both of you are in danger and both of you are so busy denying it and pointing fingers at each other that you can’t see it.” Lucas caught up and kept pace beside him. “Face it, Heath. You’re as stubborn and closed minded as she is. It’s no wonder things didn’t work out between you.”
“You can stop talking anytime.” Travis burst into the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time.
“Just observing. Kind of like you did to me not too long ago.”
“You mean I was this annoying?”
“Even more. You thought you were funny.”
Forget it. He could stop in the stairwell, whip around on Lucas and have it out right now, but his buddy wasn’t the problem. Invisible killers were the problem. Deacon’s near-death experience being a violent act was the problem. Kissing Casey was the problem.
Lucas and his sarcasm were the least of Travis’s worries. All he could envision was someone jerking Casey into a dark corner of the parking deck or shoving her into a dented, rusty old van like the bad guys drove in the movies. His brain was running away with him, and he couldn’t make the video stop. Like those nights right after Aiken died, the replay made him want to dig his fingers into his skull and physically claw the visions out.
Exiting the deck, he forced himself not to run as he crossed to the hospital’s main entrance and stepped into the air-conditioned main lobby dominated by a large welcome desk.
Thankfully, Lucas didn’t push the issue and stood at the desk beside him, swiping his maroon beret from his head and tucking it into his leg pocket.
For once, there wasn’t a line at security, and Travis sent up a quick prayer of thanks. He ran his hand over his hair then pulled out his wallet and passed his military ID to the security guard. “Travis Heath. I’m going to see Deacon Lewis.”
The woman took the card and typed something into her computer. She stared at the screen, and her eyebrows drew together before she glanced at Travis, then to the screen again. “Deacon Lewis?”
Something as close to panic as he’d felt in a long time rammed Travis in the chest. There was too much suspicion and concern in her voice.
The phone calls Lucas and Gwen had made to the hospital had been too late. “Is Deacon okay, ma’am?”
The woman didn’t look up as she slid his ID across the counter toward him with one hand and reached for the phone with the other. “I think you should talk to—”
“Travis.”
He turned and brushed past Lucas, walking toward Casey’s voice before he’d even fully located where it was coming from.
She stood to the side, her uniform doing very little to hide the woman she was, her mouth tight, face lined with worry.
Wanting to hold her close and knowing he shouldn’t, Travis ignored the security guard calling him for a visitors pass and stopped in front of Casey.
She seemed to have shrunk in the past few hours, and her gray eyes were missing the spark he’d fallen in love with. “Deacon coded, but they were able to resuscitate him.”
Somehow, he’d known the news wouldn’t be good, even on the drive over when he hadn’t wanted to admit it. He hurt all over for her, for Gwen, for Deacon...
Without worrying what she’d think, Travis opened his arms and invi
ted her in.
Casey walked into his embrace, her hands pressed between them, and buried her face in his shoulder.
Closing the circle, Travis held her close in the only protection he could offer, certain he could somehow shield her from everything going on around them, believing for the first time in months she might actually still trust him.
Like he might be worthy of her trust.
She didn’t cry, just sort of melted into him, as though he was the one thing that could hold her up. It didn’t matter what had changed from this morning, only that right now, when she needed someone most, she’d turned to him.
Not only was she drawing on his strength, he needed hers, as well. There was a give-and-take between them he’d never felt before, his own grief mingling with hers in a whole new shared experience.
After an entirely too short time, she backed away and straightened her shoulders, nodding to Lucas then staring at the rank on Travis’s chest like she couldn’t quite muster the energy to lift her head.
As much as he wanted to rewind time about fifteen seconds and have her in his arms again, where they’d both been safe, this space between them was probably saving him from saying or doing something insanely stupid. “What happened?”
“Nobody’s sure yet.” Edging around him, she tipped her head toward the door and led Travis and Lucas outside and along the sidewalk, away from anyone who might overhear. “When Gwen came to my office this morning, she said Deacon had a rough night, almost like he’d dosed himself again, even though it would be impossible for him to get his hands on anything and no one’s signed in to visit him. Then, she dropped the bombshell about him being drugged. While she was with me today, he bottomed out. They brought him around, but the doctors can’t give her a reason why any of this is happening. They’re running tests now.”
Travis dragged a hand against his cheek, scrubbing his palm along the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow, not liking his thoughts. No matter what angle he turned this, the conclusion never changed. “Somebody with access to Deacon is afraid he’s going to talk about something.”
