The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  Declan shook off the latest assault to his person, Rogan scrambling around the wheelchair to assist him to his feet. His long hair tangled in the hand that Declan threw around his neck for stability. Wild-eyed, Dec fought to free himself from his brother just as another shot reverberated from within the SUV’s interior.

  “Sadie!” he screamed, her name ripped like a prayer from his throat. And the anguish was so raw, so fresh in his otherwise numb body, that it overrode the drugs, the splints and the broken bones and propelled him forward through the crush of people as easily as a shark passes through water. Rogan’s restraining hands were no more than some passing seaweed that he shook off.

  He pushed his way past the distracted cops, caught a glimpse of his sister as she burst forth from her vehicle. Her cell phone was pressed to her ear with one hand, with the other she signaled wildly to the SWAT team members. One of them yanked open the tailgate to the battered SUV, and a dark clad figure emerged shakily, hands raised just above his head. The guy’s face was battered, too swollen and bloody to identify, but Dec quickly registered the familiarity of the uniform.

  It had to be the young cop who’d been guarding his door.

  Hope welled as he moved closer, the gunshots taking on new meaning. Was it possible the cop had overpowered Marshall, that Sadie was still alive?

  His body pushed forward with renewed focus, every fiber in his being straining to get closer to the woman he loved. One of the uniforms working crowd control finally spotted him, called out a furious warning that held no meaning. He was operating on some primitive level that didn’t allow room for other concerns.

  Kathleen was in the thick of things, issuing orders to the arriving paramedics as she scrambled into the open back of the SUV. Dec called her name and behind him heard the angry voice of the cop, followed closely by an apologetic Rogan.

  He veered sharply between two parked vehicles, ducked some caution tape that the police had strung.

  Heart pounding hard enough to break his bruised ribs, he broke into a flat-out run.

  “KATHLEEN!”

  Distantly she heard the sound of her name, but Kathleen’s attention was focused on Sadie. Blood dotted her face and T-shirt like a macabre kind of glitter, but when Kathleen untied her hands and pulled her out of the ball she’d rolled into it became clear that the blood wasn’t hers. Likely spatter from what was left of Marshall. Kathleen put the image of his faceless body out of her head as she slid her fingers to Sadie’s carotid. The pulse beat against her like a rabbit’s. Behind her, two paramedics clambered in with their equipment at the ready, and she angled her head toward the man against the vehicle’s other side.

  “Gunshot wound to the chest.” And Kathleen was afraid it would prove fatal. She’d heard the whole thing on her cell phone: Marshall taking the shot, just as Officer Bainbridge appeared to come to. They’d grappled for the weapon, Bainbridge got the upper hand, and Marshall was now lying quite dead at Richard’s feet.

  “We’ve got a pulse,” one of the EMTs said “but it’s damn faint. Let’s get this guy out of here before we lose him.”

  The two men began to remove Sadie’s ex as expediently as possible from the vehicle, and Kathleen’s gut clenched as she watched them work. Rick’s skin was turning gray. There’d been no love lost between the two of them, but she sure as hell didn’t want him to die.

  Turning back toward her friend, Kathleen gently lifted one of Sadie’s eyelids. The pupil dilation came as no real surprise, nor did the clammy skin or racing heart. After what Sadie had just been through it was no wonder that she was in shock.

  “Sadie, can you hear me?”

  Sadie’s only response was to curl back in the ball, her body shaking all over. A third paramedic showed up at Kathleen’s side, and she talked to him over her shoulder.

  “Looks like shock,” she reported, relief and the aftershocks of blind fear making her voice unsteady. “I can’t see any obvious injuries, but –”

  “We’ll take care of her,” the man cut in.

  Kathleen ran her hand over Sadie’s hair before backing out of the way. A second paramedic jumped in to take her place just as she heard her name called again.

  “Kathleen!”

  She looked up to see her brother making a beeline for her, one of the locals in hot pursuit. A couple of the SWAT team turned and took in the situation, moving to intercept Declan before she could stop them. Knowing things would get real ugly, real fast she trotted over quickly, offering explanations and apologies before they broke his fool head.

  “Sorry. I’ve got this one, guys. Thanks.”

  “You know this man?” one of them asked, looking at Declan’s crazed state with open suspicion. He hadn’t released his grip from Dec’s arm. At least he’d grabbed the one that wasn’t broken.

  “He’s my brother, yeah, and that’s his girlfriend they’re pulling out of that truck. She’s okay,” she said quickly to Declan, before he did something that would land him in jail. Okay might have been an overstatement, but it was what he needed to hear right now.

  The SWAT guy relinquished his grip on Dec with a frown. Dec didn’t even seem to notice, his attention focused solely on the SUV.

  “I need to see her,” he said through his teeth, the words labored with unsteady breathing.

  “We can’t have civilians traipsing through our crime scene, Detective,” the other officer stated with disapproval.

  “I assure you there’ll be no traipsing involved.”

  He glared, and she matched the expression. Dec ignored them both and started homing in on the SUV.

  “I’ve got it,” she told the other cop, grabbing Dec’s arm when the man started to protest. Then she led him carefully around the clusters of cops and hospital personnel who were going about their business. Several news crews – Kathleen hadn’t noticed them until now – had cameras trained their direction. Kathleen looked at Declan’s attire and silently thanked whichever member of her family had thought to get him some sweats. This was bad enough without him being broadcast running around in a hospital gown on the evening news.

  THE EMTs were transferring Sadie to a gurney, and Declan broke free again when he saw her. She looked small – so small and fragile, her face almost as white as the sheet, except for where it was discolored by an array of bruises – and the splattered blood marring her delicate skin had nausea churning in his stomach. Racing to her side, he looked helplessly on as the emergency workers got her situated.

  He was afraid to even touch her.

  “She’s in shock,” Kathleen said from behind him. “The blood’s not hers – it’s either Carlisle’s or Marshall’s, as they’re the ones who sustained gunshots. Marshall’s dead, and Rick… I don’t know if he’s going to make it. It doesn’t look too good. But Sadie’s clear, Dec. No bullet wounds.”

  “Sir,” the female EMT said, “we’re going to need you to step back.”

  And he reached for Sadie then, just for her hand, because he desperately needed the contact. Her eyes flew open, wide with shock, and rolled unsteadily in his direction.

  “D…. De…”

  “Shh. I’m here, baby.” He couldn’t stop emotion from clogging his throat. The EMT gestured to wrap it up, and he gently squeezed her fingers. “They’re going to take you in and get you checked out, but I’ll be two steps away, I promise.”

  They started to push the stretcher away, but Sadie grabbed onto his shirt and almost pulled him over. “N… No!” she shouted, so loudly that Kathleen stepped up to see what was happening. “N… not… d…. d-d-dead.”

  Her teeth were chattering so hard that it was difficult to make out what she was saying. But Kathleen’s rundown of the situation clicked in his head and he nodded, squashing any lingering resentment.

  “That’s right, honey. Rick’s going to be just fine.” Which could be patently untrue, although for Sadie’s sake he hoped the opposite. He knew too well the guilt anything else would bring.

  The gurney started to
move again, the EMTs becoming annoyed as they propelled it forward, but Sadie looked to Kathleen, shaking her head, as if he was too dense for her to deal with. “B-b-b…Brady.” And the look in her eyes held panic.

  Kathleen trotted along beside them, eyebrows drawn low over worried eyes. “Marshall’s gone, Sadie. I saw his body myself.”

  “N-no!” she asserted again, her voice ringing clear with frustration. “B-b-Bainbridge. B-b-b…Brady shot his f-f-face.”

  Kathleen stopped dead, Declan with her, and even the EMTs seemed to freeze in place. “She might be confused,” one of them said, “it’s common with shock.”

  But in her face Dec saw resolution. And utter, blinding fear.

  “Shit,” he said to Kathleen, and turned around to survey the chaos. “The cop who was guarding my door. I thought that was him when he climbed out of the truck. But his face –”

  Before he could even finish the thought, Kathleen was on her radio. “This is Detective Murphy. Anybody see what happened to Officer Bainbridge?”

  There was a click, then a masculine voice. “He went off to get medical attention. I imagine he’s in the ER.”

  Declan glanced at Sadie, watched her eyes flare wide, and knew that she wasn’t mistaken. “It’s him,” he said to Kathleen, words trembling with sudden fury. “Son of a bitch. He’s going to just walk away.”

  “Not if I can help it.” And because she couldn’t trust radio communication in case Marshall was still in possession of his, she ran over to the remaining cluster from the SWAT team. The EMTs stayed where they were, unsure now what to do.

  “Is Sadie in danger?” Dec asked the emergency tech who’d spoken earlier. “I mean, does she need medical care immediately?”

  The woman shook her dark head. “She’s in psychological shock, not circulatory, and her blood pressure seems to be stabilizing a little.” She gestured to the cuff. “She needs to be looked at, definitely, but I wouldn’t classify it as urgent.”

  “Good.” Declan squeezed Sadie’s fingers. “Until they figure out where Marshall went, I don’t want her out of my sight.” He looked up then, saw Kim and Rogan approaching, his dad not far behind. Rogan wore a worried expression, which intensified when he saw his face.

  “Sadie?” he asked, gaze falling on the stretcher, where Sadie’d squeezed her eyes closed once again.

  “She’s hanging in. For now. But it looks like Marshall pulled one over. He’s gone.”

  “What?” Kim radiated shock. “I thought the young cop shot him.”

  “You and everyone else. The bastard’s a freaking Houdini. I want Sadie far, far away from here,” he expounded. “We’ll drive out, hire a plane, I don’t care what we have to do, but I want her well out of Marshall’s sights before he decides to try his luck again. You’ve got pull,” he growled at Kim. “Do something.”

  “Hey.” Rogan started to protest, but Kim stopped him with an outthrust palm. “You’d feel the same,” she told him succinctly.

  “So are we taking her into the ER or not?” the EMT demanded.

  “Not.” Dec looked at his father, whose weathered face was pallid and drawn. “It’s dark, so how about if Kim drives Sadie and I in your car and Rogan can take you home in his.”

  Rogan looked like he wanted to protest again, lips thinning when he realized it was futile. Declan felt bad about hijacking the woman he loved, but she was the only one of them currently carrying a weapon. And he was not about to move Sadie anywhere unless it was under some kind of armed guard.

  “Where’s Kathleen?” Patrick asked, anxious eyes moving to scan the crowd.

  “She went to rally the troops.”

  “Which is exactly why the best place for Sadie, and you for that matter, is right where you are.”

  Dec turned to glare at Kim.

  “Think about it, Declan. Dial down the emotion for just one moment, and look at this using your head. They’re going to be locking the hospital down – no one in, no one out – setting up roadblocks, creating a net. If this guy is still around, well, you’re surrounded by most of the law enforcement firepower in the county.”

  Declan swallowed hard and looked at Sadie. Saw their past. The future he wanted. “I want to take her away from this. I… need her to be safe.”

  “I know.” Kim laid a hand on his arm. “How about we get her set up in the back of one of the ambulances. I’m sure one of these fine technicians would be willing to wait there with you, keep an eye on Sadie’s vitals?”

  “Looks like I’ve got nothin’ better to do for a while,” the woman said in response to the implied question.

  “Okay.” Declan reached up to rub his stinging cheek, embarrassed at the dampness he found there. When the hell had he started crying? “And, uh, you guys will stick around too?”

  Thank God they seemed to understand that he was almost overcome with the need to circle the family wagons.

  “Like glue,” Rogan promised while Kim stretched up on her toes to press a kiss to his embarrassingly wet face.

  Then Kim seemed to fly against his chest with unexpected force, propelling him backwards on his still-unsteady legs. They landed on the gurney, which went toppling over just as all hell broke loose around them.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  BRADY Marshall watched the redhead drop, taking Murphy with her. Two for the price of one. Then he leveled the cop’s gun at the overturned gurney. Ms. Mayhew had obviously shaken off the drug just enough to tell them all about his switch-a-roo.

  Little bitch.

  He should have just killed her and been done with it. But he’d figured it would provide more of a distraction, leaving at least one of the two alive. That in the rush to get her into the ER, he’d have plenty of time to sneak out of there.

  But now the cops were right on his tail.

  He’d barely outmaneuvered one in the corridor.

  So he aimed toward those messy blonde curls and calmly squeezed the trigger.

  KATHLEEN felt the vibration of the bullet leaving the chamber all the way up to her shoulder. Center mass. Perfect shot. The bastard’s black heart probably exploded.

  But she fired again for insurance even as Marshall was going down.

  DECLAN felt almost detached from his body as he and Kim went cartwheeling backward. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Sound was muffled, his vision blurred. Something whizzed over his head. There were shouts, more screams and by the time they hit the ground, three gunshots in rapid succession.

  His bones jarred as they impacted the pavement.

  Rogan vaulted over the fallen gurney, pulling Kim off Dec’s chest. Declan sucked in a much-needed breath while she groaned, then let forth with a blistering blasphemy.

  “Are you hit? Are you hit?” His brother was ten kinds of frantic, and Declan realized that what had knocked them on their asses was the impact from a bullet.

  “It hit the vest,” Dec heard Kim say, talking about her body armor. “Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live through it.”

  Declan sat up, shook his head to clear it, and then joined his brother in panic. He crawled toward Sadie, who was still strapped awkwardly to the gurney, relieved when those baby blues blinked his direction.

  “You okay?” He ran shaking fingers over every part he could reach. “Dammit, did a bullet hit you?”

  “N-no.”

  Declan looked for signs of fresh blood nonetheless.

  “B-Brady?” she quietly asked, just as his dad came around to help them.

  “Kathleen got him.” Patrick’s voice shook, too much emotion making it unsteady. He helped Declan and the EMT get the gurney righted.

  Declan looked over toward his sister, and the group of cops ringing what had to be Marshall. Then swung his gaze toward Kim. “He was aiming for me, but you stepped into the line of fire.”

  Kim looked up from where Rogan cradled her and winced. “Purely by accident, so don’t go getting all mushy.”

  He felt the surprising beginnings of a smile. “You oka
y?”

  She nodded, and Rogan kissed her. Then Kathleen came trotting up. “Everybody in one piece?”

  “Seems like.” Their eyes met, and he could see the relief that flooded through hers.

  “Marshall’s dead,” she summed up, and Declan could feel the fine tremors in the hand she laid over his. He knew that taking a life had cost her, even if the life she’d taken hadn’t been worth much. He’d experienced the very same thing.

  “He was hiding in the supply closet and apparently decided to break out when he realized the hospital was going into lockdown. I guess he just couldn’t resist taking a final shot at you when he saw I was right on him.”

  Their dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “You want us to take your girlfriend in now?” the EMT asked Declan.

  “Definitely.”

  “This one, too,” Rogan added, even though Kim was rolling her eyes.

  “I have to get back over there,” Kathleen said with emotion. “Love you. All.”

  And when she headed off, Declan’s eyes met Sadie’s, and he leaned down close to her ear. “I love you. All.”

  And kissed her as the gurney started moving.

  EPILOGUE

  “AFTER an extensive search of Edward Cooper’s former residence, authorities have determined…”

  There was a snort from somewhere beneath the covers, probably a commentary on the fact that Declan had been less than thrilled with all the people – authorities and otherwise – climbing all over her house and around the property, a few of whom had been audacious enough to actually set foot in his yard, but Sadie ignored his bad temper and continued reading aloud from the Sunday paper.

  “…authorities have determined that the stolen necklace believed to be at the center of the three month crime spree which cost at least seven people their lives, and possibly one Mount Pleasant police detective his livelihood, may have disappeared once again, after having been lost for almost two centuries. Family members of Nora Beth Dennison, the eighty-five year old Beaufort resident murdered in the original theft, expressed their disappointment at the investigation’s outcome. “It’s a loss,” claimed Marcus Fanning, Dennison’s great nephew. “Nora Beth planned on donating the necklace to the Museum of Southern History, and it would have been a fitting memorial if we’d been able to recover it. As it stands, I guess we’ll never…”