“You asked me to cover a story, Jeremy, and I’m covering it. I’m researching, which, as you know, is how one builds a story.”
He rolled his brown eyes. “You’re not building a story. You don’t have a single goddamn person interviewed on camera. You haven’t even once called Larry to accompany you to these so-called interviews.”
Larry was the cameraman she often used on assignment, and Jeremy was right; she hadn’t called Larry to join her because she wasn’t ready to interview anyone on camera about these missing kids yet. Wasn’t sure she ever would be, but she couldn’t exactly tell him that.
Drawing in a calming breath, she reminded herself to keep her cool. “I’ll call Larry when I’m ready.”
He pushed to his feet and shuffled file folders together on his desk. “I already called him for you. He’s waiting in the conference room.”
“What?”
“I need something for the five o’clock news. He’ll tape your personal connection to the story. We’ll run it with video of the car the police discovered on Highway 26 where they also found that little boy. I’ll let you add in any details you think are important from your research, but that story airs tonight. When you have more, we’ll run the rest later.”
A sick feeling rolled through Raegan’s stomach as she pushed to her feet and watched Jeremy lift a folder and move around his desk as if he were done with her.
“This was never about the story,” she muttered to herself.
“What did you say?” He glanced up.
Shock that she hadn’t seen the truth before rippled through her. “You came up with the idea for this story the day I got the call about that little girl at the hospital.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You saw how I reacted to that news.” Her skin grew hot, but not in the good way. “You saw and you decided to use it to get your Emmy.” Holy hell, that made total sense. They were getting close to the end of January. The deadline for Emmy nominations was in mid-March. She knew he had no other emotionally moving stories to enter in the stupid news awards. He’d been complaining to her about it for weeks on their dates before that night.
She lifted a hand to her forehead, feeling like a complete fool. “I can’t believe I fell for it.”
He dropped the file folder on his desk and pinned her with a get real look. But his brown eyes lacked the same angry focus they’d held earlier. “You’re imagining things. Go do your taping and we’ll talk when you’re not so emotional.”
No, they wouldn’t. She wasn’t about to let him use her personal tragedy for his professional gain.
She tugged the station ID badge from her jacket. “I quit.”
A perturbed expression crossed his features. “I don’t have time for theatrics today, Raegan. Throw your temper tantrum on your own time. I have work to do. So do you for that matter, so go do it.”
She shook her head, stepped forward, and dropped her badge on his desk. It landed with a thud against the folders. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention. And I’d be all for this if you wanted to run this story to keep my daughter’s name in front of the public, if I thought you wanted to help those other families, but that’s not what you want. You want my personal connection to these kids, not Emma’s connection, not details on these missing kids. I’m not just a story, Jeremy. She’s not just a story. And neither are those kids. Their parents deserve to know what happened to their children just as much as I do. What they don’t deserve is to be used as pawns in a ratings quest. So I quit.”
She turned, pulled the office door open, and made it two steps out before she heard him swear and say, “Raegan, come back.”
She kept walking, wanting nothing more than to get out of this station and back to Alec. He didn’t follow her. She’d known he wouldn’t because he wouldn’t dare make a scene in front of his staff.
Just past the dark soundstage, Anna Chapman rushed up at her side. “Hey. There you are.” Breathless, she said, “This note was left for you at the front desk.”
Raegan stuffed the note in her pocket without looking at it and rounded the corner toward her cubicle. “Probably another lecture from Jeremy.”
Anna hustled to keep up with her. “You two have a fight?”
“We had nothing.” Raegan stopped at her desk, grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer, and pulled out her keys.
“What’s going on, Raegan?” Anna stood in the doorway of her cubicle, clearly not getting the hint Raegan wasn’t in the mood to chat.
“Nothing more than finally seeing the light.”
Some kind of commotion sounded behind Anna. Raegan glanced that way to see a cluster of people around a salt-and-pepper-haired woman dressed in a fancy suit who looked like she’d just stepped off the pages of Vogue Senior.
“What’s that about?” Raegan asked as she shoved lip balm, her brush, and the rest of her personal items from her desk into her purse.
“Oh that.” Anna glanced over her shoulder at the small crowd and then back at Raegan. “Miriam Kasdan’s giving an on-camera interview.” Raegan recognized the name. The woman was some big philanthropist in the city who Jeremy had been trying to hook for a special interest piece. “So are you and Jeremy done for good? Chloe Hampton said he was really upset the other day after you were here.”
A tiny bit of guilt pinched Raegan’s chest, but it faded quickly when she remembered the way Jeremy wanted to use Emma for his ratings. She grabbed the framed photo of Emma from the corner of her desk and shoved it in her bag. “Look, Anna, I really have to go.”
The phone in her purse buzzed. Raegan pulled it out as she moved past Anna and turned for the elevator. “This is Raegan.”
“Raegan, it’s Ethan.”
“Hey, Ethan.” A whisper of worry rushed down Raegan’s spine when she realized his voice sounded tight. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“No.”
Her feet drew to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Alec.”
The blood drained from her face, and she gripped the receiver until her knuckles turned white. “What happened?”
“He was shot. Paramedics are transporting him to the ER right now.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt.” Alec sat upright on the gurney in the ER bay, winced at the pain he didn’t want the doctor and nurse to see, and tried to stand. “Just put a bandage on it and let me go.”
The nurse typing on a computer in the corner of the room rushed over and pushed him back down while a doctor who looked to be in his forties removed the pressure bandages the EMTs had applied in the ambulance. Another twinge of pain shot through Alec’s shoulder, making his teeth grind. “Sir, you need to calm down or we’re going to have to sedate you.”
Panic clawed at Alec’s chest as his spine hit the mattress. The pain in his shoulder from that bullet and the throb in the back of his head where he’d cracked his skull against the pavement sucked, but they were the least of his worries at the moment. He didn’t have his cell phone, didn’t know where it was or what had happened to it. He couldn’t call anyone to go find Raegan, and he was ready to scream if Nurse Ratched didn’t let go of him soon so he could make sure Raegan was okay.
He struggled for patience as he tried to hold still so the doctor could work on his arm. “Okay, just do it fast. I need to get out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere until we make sure this isn’t more serious than it looks,” the doctor said. To the nurse still holding him down, he said, “Let’s get an IV antibiotic drip going. I also want images of the shoulder to make sure we’re not missing any shrapnel.”
“Yes, doctor.”
The nurse rushed out of the room while the doctor looked back down at Alec’s shoulder and reapplied the pressure bandage. “We’ll know more after we take some pictures. Sit tight. Someone will come get you in a few minutes.”
Pictures would take hours. That panic grabbed hold of Alec’s chest and squeezed like a pyth
on. “At least let me use a phone. It’s important. My wi—”
Footsteps pounded in the hall. Alec looked up just as a frazzled Raegan appeared in the doorway, her auburn hair a tangled mess around her face, her eyes wide and frightened, her coat hanging off one shoulder and down her arm as if she hadn’t had time to pull it all the way on.
“Oh my God, Alec.” Her gaze darted from his bandaged shoulder to the doctor and back to him as she rushed into the room and around the bed to his uninjured side. “Are you okay?” She looked up at the doctor. “Is he okay?”
“Raegan.” Relief poured through Alec like a waterfall. He reached for her with his good arm as soon as she was close, ignored the sharp stab of pain in his bad one, and wrapped his hand tightly around hers to reassure himself she was safe, that the prick hadn’t gotten to her too.
“He’s going to be fine.” The doctor rested one hand on the back of Alec’s bed. “Looks to be mostly soft tissue damage. The bullet either ricocheted off the muscle on his outer arm or it went clean through. We’ll know more after we take a few pictures.” He looked down at Alec. “Do you still need a phone or are we good now?”
“We’re good,” Alec breathed, staring up at Raegan as he squeezed her hand.
“Okay.” The doctor stepped back, tugged off his gloves, and tossed them in the trash can by the door. “The nurse will get your IV started, then someone will be in to take you to imaging. After that, we’ll get you stitched up and out of here.”
“Thanks,” Alec said, still focused on Raegan, his relief so sweet it pushed aside the pain.
Eyes wide and not totally focusing, Raegan looked toward the door as the doctor left.
As soon as he was gone, Alec sat forward, wincing at the tug in his wounded shoulder, and pulled her down to hold her against him.
“Oh my God, Alec.” She closed both arms around his neck and held on just as tight. “When Ethan called and said you’d been shot, I thought—”
“I know.” Thank God he’d been on the line with Hunt when that shit had gone down. And thank God he’d been conscious to tell Hunt where he was. Hunt had obviously called Ethan right after calling 911.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, closed his eyes, and breathed in the sweet scent of her, not feeling the pain anymore, not feeling the ache in the back of his head, not feeling anything but her. He’d thought the same thing—that his time was up, that it was all over, that he’d never see her again. His throat grew thick. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Knew he never would be.
“I’m okay,” he said, fighting back the hitch in his voice. Knowing he needed to reassure her . . . and him. He swallowed hard. “’Tis but a scratch.”
His stupid Monty Python reference pulled a half laugh, half grunt from her chest. Pushing back, she sat next to him on the edge of the gurney. But there was no humor in her shimmering green eyes when she stared down at him, just pure terror. “If it had been a few inches to the left—”
“But it wasn’t.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m okay, Raegan.”
The nurse came in with the IV bag, dragging at his attention. She hung it on the pole and moved around the room gathering supplies.
“Don’t freak out.” Alec looked back at Raegan. “This is all just precautionary.”
Tears filled Raegan’s eyes. “I thought I’d lost you. Right after I found you again.”
Emotions closed his throat—that she could love him so much after all this time. That he was so damn lucky to have her in his life. That he was such a fool for having ever let her go.
Wrapping his good arm around her once more, he pulled her against him and held her close. “You’re not gonna lose me. Never again, okay?” He pressed his lips against her temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded and held him tightly, sniffling and fighting, he knew, tears that wanted to consume her.
The nurse cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to get his IV going, and I need his good arm to do that.”
“Oh.” Raegan stood quickly and let go of Alec, swiping at her cheeks with trembling hands. “Sure.”
She moved to the other side of the bed, near his injured shoulder, and looked down. Sickness rolled over her features while the nurse tied an elastic band around his good arm and searched for a vein.
“Look away, Raegan.” To the nurse, he said, “Blood makes her light-headed.”
The nurse glanced up. “You can wait in the hall if you’d like. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Raegan crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll be fi—”
Footsteps sounded outside the door again, and Alec looked in that direction just as Hunter O’Donnell peeked his dark head around the corner. “Hey. Okay for me to come in?”
“Hunt.” Alec breathed easier. “Yeah, come in and block Raegan so she can’t see this.”
Raegan frowned. “I’m fine.”
No, she wasn’t fine. She was emotionally wrecked and still shaking. Ignoring Hunt’s raised eyebrows and his unspoken what the fuck is she doing here? question, Alec said, “I don’t want her passing out.”
Dressed in jeans, a black button-down, and a leather jacket, Hunt moved into the room and stood between Raegan and the bed. “I remember that. Didn’t you end up needing your own X-rays? They thought you cracked your skull when you hit that gurney.”
“It was only a bump,” Raegan said with a note of irritation in her voice.
Hunt chuckled. “One hell of a bump.”
Raegan sighed. “Ethan said you were on the phone with Alec when it happened. Did the police catch the person who did this? Do they have any leads?”
Alec winced as the nurse pushed the catheter into his vein.
“Don’t know.” Hunt slipped his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough to get Alec’s statement.” He glanced over his shoulder at Alec as the nurse pulled the elastic band from his arm. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Alec’s jaw clenched as the nurse placed a sticky plastic cover over the IV. “I remember everything, even that asshole’s face.”
“You saw him?” Hunt turned Alec’s way. Behind him, Raegan stepped close, glancing at his IV and then looking quickly back up to his face.
Alec nodded. “It was John Gilbert.”
The color drained from Raegan’s cheeks. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” A bitter betrayal whipped through Alec as he looked up at Raegan. He had plenty of reasons to hate John Gilbert, plenty of reasons to suspect Gilbert had been involved in Emma’s disappearance, but he never in a million years would have expected that his father—his own flesh and blood—would try to murder him in cold blood in the middle of a downtown street.
Alec’s vision turned red, and he wanted to reach for Raegan’s hand to soothe him, but she was standing hear his injured shoulder and the nurse was still messing with his IV. Forcing himself to look at Hunt, he focused on the facts, not on the hatred brewing inside him. “I was crossing the street, talking to you on the phone, when I heard a baby on the far sidewalk cry. I looked up, and that’s when I saw him. He was standing behind the woman and child in the opening to the alley.”
“Did you tell the cops?” Hunt asked.
“Yeah. But by the time they got there, he was already long gone. I should have expected something like this.” Alec shook his head, feeling like a complete idiot. “He left that note for Raegan. He roughed her up in that alley and threatened her. I’m just glad it was me and not her.”
From the corner of his vision, he watched Raegan pull something out of her coat pocket and look down. Her cheeks paled even more. Worry seeped in to mix with the hatred as Alec glanced at her. “What?”
“I . . .” She lifted a piece of paper. “Someone left this for me in the lobby of the station. I . . . I didn’t think to read it until just now.”
She handed it to Hunt, who read it and scowled, then held it up for Alec to see. Only one line was scri
bbled on the page.
YOU DIDN’T LISTEN BEFORE. MAYBE TODAY YOU FINALLY WILL.
Rage bubbled through Alec, a familiar rage linked to years of abuse and taunting, only now it was fueled by what had happened today and the fact that fucker had gone to Raegan. “It’s Gilbert’s handwriting.” He looked up at Raegan. “He was at your station?”
“I don’t know. I never saw him.”
Hunt tugged his cell phone from his jeans. “I’ll call my guy down at Portland PD and get them to send someone over to KTVP to get a statement. Who gave you the note, Raegan?”
“Anna Chapman.”
Hunt nodded and stepped out of the room so he could get a signal.
Alone, Alec looked over at Raegan only to see both hands covering her face. A little of the rage ebbed, replaced with a wave of relief that Gilbert hadn’t touched her.
“Hey,” he said softly, desperate to reach for her but still unable to because she was standing on his injured side. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” She dropped her hands. “You told me it was him, and I didn’t listen. When he left that note. When he . . .” She pointed to her face, unable to say the words. “I didn’t want to believe it could be him, so I ignored it. He’s your father. Fathers aren’t supposed to do those kinds of things. And now you’re lying in this bed, and—”
“Don’t do that.”
She swiped angrily at her cheek. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t blame yourself for this. If you want to blame someone, blame him.”
“They don’t even know where he is, Alec. And if he had something to do with all these missing kids—”
“Then we’ll catch him. He’s not a smart man, Raegan. He’s a drug dealer and an addict. If he’s involved in whatever this is, I guarantee he’s not the mastermind. He’s a grunt, and grunts like him make mistakes. Like today. Today was a massive fucking mistake. I guarantee no one told him to take a shot at me. He did it because I went to see him the other day. He feeds off shit like that, knowing I’m upset.”
Alec looked up at her worried face, sick to his stomach because he had a strong hunch none of this would be happening if he hadn’t gone to that prison. “I triggered this. I basically told him we were looking into these missing-kid cases, and he jumped on that because he knew it would get to me. The same way he knows going after you will get to me because I still love you. If I hadn’t gone to see him, I doubt he would have left you that note on your car. He wouldn’t have gone after you in”—his stomach pitched at the thought of John Gilbert alone with her—“that alley. He wouldn’t have gone to your station today.”
Gone (Deadly Secrets Book 2) Page 20
