She was just in time to see the weapon being raised and pointed in their direction. “Gun!”
Melody turned, too. But Paige knew it would be too late. Melody was in the direct line of fire.
Paige reacted, diving for the other woman. She knocked Melody to the ground, but she knew it was already too late.
She heard Mick shout her name, heard screams from the other people in the parking lot. Then her head bounced off the concrete sidewalk, and that was it.
***
Mick saw the whole thing go down right in front of him. And he couldn’t do a damned thing to stop it. He’d left his weapon in the SUV. He’d had his backup strapped to his ankle, but he hadn’t had the time to free it. At least not in time to prevent the shots.
He pointed his backup weapon at the shooter, prepared to fire immediately if called for.
The guy had his hands raised and the gun dangled from his hand. The shooter wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking.
Sebastian’s brother was bent over the two women. Sin had dropped to the ground next to Melody Beck and put his hands over her chest. “I need some help over here!”
ER workers came rushing out of the building almost before Mick had the gun from the guy’s hand. They pushed Sin aside and the other man came over to the shooter.
“Take him.” Mick ordered the other man, thrusting the guy toward Lorcan. “Paige?”
“Out. The woman with her has been hit. Pretty bad.”
“Carrie’s sister Melody.”
“Shit.”
“Her father’s inside. Someone needs to tell him.”
“I’ll take this guy once the scene’s secure.”
“Keep him in this building. I want to have a talk with him, once I know she’ll be ok. Know they both will be.” Mick wouldn’t let himself think of the alternative. She hadn’t been moving.
“Will do. And I’ll notify Ed Dennis.” Sin Lorcan wasn’t with PAVAD, but had transferred to the St. Louis office four months after his brother Seth had kidnapped Mick’s sister. Mick had met the man on many occasions. “Let him know about Paige.”
“Thank you.” Mick’s attention shifted from the shooter once the other man had the guy in cuffs. Paige was being lifted onto a gurney. She wasn’t moving. And there was blood all over her.
He was just hoping all the blood was Detective Beck’s, though that wouldn’t be a good thing for the redheaded woman he’d liked a great deal.
There was so much red.
He hurried to Paige’s side. The orderlies and nurses in his path looked at him, but none tried to stop him.
His size had its advantages; this was one of those times. She still wasn’t moving.
She looked so pale, so still. So damned like Mara at that moment he wanted to puke. Mara had had dark eyes, but her hair had been blonde. She’d been shorter, softer, curvier than Paige. But his last sight of her had been her body on a gurney much like this one.
He wrapped his fingers around Paige’s for a minute. His thumb brushed against her pulse. It was there, steady. There.
He put her hand down on the gurney, then stepped back. He looked at the doctor next to the gurney. “Take care of her. I’ll be back for her when I can.”
“We’ll take good care of her, sir. This is one of the best hospitals in the city for trauma victims.”
Mick nodded. He wasn’t sure what else there was to say.
Chapter 16
CAM checked his text messages while waiting for his connecting flight. Connor, his team’s technical guru, had sent him three. He checked the first one, getting a kick out of her style of message delivery. Hey cutie pie, Avery’s driver’s license was found in St. Louis. Message two read Booked you a flight. Have fun. Along with the flight details, and number three was Line on Denise Davies’s older two sons. Will send details later.
He could always count on Danielle Connor. The woman was great with a computer, able to find almost anything with just a few clicks of her pretty, girly little fingers on the keyboard.
Anyone tried to hide from her, it was useless. Unless they were dead. And she had a way of being able to trace their final movements better than a bloodhound. He needed her. And she was probably one of his closest friends. He sent a text right back. Thanks, sexy. You taking care of yourself tonight?
He had his response in a few seconds, like he’d suspected he would. Connor was nothing if not reliable—and she always had her phone. Date gone wrong. Going to roll myself home and sulk. Don’t miss your flight again. And keep me posted. PS>The agents in charge of the IDs is Mick Brockman—PAVAD bigwig. Have fun. Mind your manners.
PAVAD? Well. Things just got pretty damned interesting.
Cam made his flight easily, then settled back in his chair to rest. To review what he knew about the case.
Pretty little Ariella was supposed to call her father when she got home from orchestra practice. When she didn’t, he went out looking for her. He’d found her car with a fresh bump on the front near the concert hall where she’d had practice. Her purse and bag were gone, her clarinet and violin were still in the vehicle. That was the last sign anyone had of her. Cam had spoken with the local police himself—while there were suspicious circumstances listed, no media coverage had gone out and there were no red flags. Locals were viewing it as a college girl gone on spur-of-the-moment vacation. Never mind that Ariella wasn’t the type to just disappear like that.
And she was involved in a search for her birth family. Perhaps one of her missing siblings hadn’t really wanted to be found? He picked up his phone and called the DNA tech he still owed a dinner. “Can you do me a huge favor? Can you run that girl’s DNA against any open cases in the Texas area? If nothing pops, can you try the neighboring states? And try tracking the rest of the birth mother’s spawn, will you?”
After he disconnected from Miranda he dialed Connor. It was just past eight. She’d be up. She was a real night owl and gamer. If the date—one she’d been ambivalent about anyway—had been really bad she’d be taking her frustration out with some online role playing. Killing zombies or warriors or whatever flavor of game she needed tonight.
The girl was hell on wheels. Literally. He didn’t know the exact details, but she was wheelchair bound. She could walk, but barely. He’d not ever asked why, and Connor had never volunteered the information.
She was ten years his junior and probably his closest friend in the world. One of the only that he truly trusted.
“Hey. So, zombies or warriors? And what did the guy try? Do I need to break any fingers?”
He listened to her gripe about the man for half of his wait. He needed her to keep him grounded, to make him forget the specifics of what he would most likely find when Ariella Avery finally turned up. To make him forget the fact that his own sister’s body was probably out there somewhere rotting, too.
Sometimes…sometimes he just needed to hear Connor’s voice to remind himself that the world kept turning.
Chapter 17
MICK fought every urge he had to slam the son-of-a-bitch through the floor for what he’d done. For the very sight of Paige’s head slamming into the concrete, for the red spray of Detective Beck’s blood across that white wall. They were damned lucky to be just outside the hospital when the shots had been fired. Why in the hell had he done it?
Sin had the guy in cuffs and dragged into the hospital security office within moments of the shooting. Had the shooter been that fucking stupid? The entire lobby of the maternity center of the hospital had been swarming with FBI agents, some of whom still had on windbreakers with the FBI: PAVAD initials printed in bold white letters on the back.
Were they ok? Beck had been talking when the medical staff had lifted her onto the gurney, but she’d been hit right in the center of her chest. He’d seen wounds just as significant in the military. Wounds that people hadn’t recovered from.
And Paige?
She hadn’t been moving. Had she even been conscious?
Mick wanted to go
to her, see for himself. How many times had the woman had her head bashed against something just since he’d known her? At least four times that he knew of.
And he suspected there’d probably been a few other knocks to her head in the past that he didn’t know about.
The fear had his hands rougher on the asshole than Mick intended.
Oh, well.
There was no one in the room but Sin to see. The suspect protested.
“Shut up.” Mick loomed over the guy, taking stock. The guy wasn’t dirty, wasn’t strung out. The clothes, while not the most expensive, weren’t discount thrift or old, either. This guy had enough money for basic necessities—and the eyes were clear of the signs of drugs. “Why did you shoot that woman?”
“I want a lawyer.”
“You’ll get your lawyer. After we have a little talk. Or…I could let Agent Brick Wall here walk you out back for a few minutes,” Sin settled into the chair across from the guy. “Me? I don’t care either way. I have other business in this hospital tonight. But he…well, in case you haven’t figured it out, he likes to crack skulls now and then when he gets nervous. And he’s very, very nervous right now. He’s a bit high strung.”
Mick glared at both of them. “He shot a cop. That makes me very, very…anxious. And I like to hit things when I’m anxious. Not nervous.”
“Shooting a cop…that’s going to bring a hefty ticket. Now, if we knew why Detective Beck was targeted, could understand your reasoning…” Sin was playing helpful.
Mick just wanted his hands around the guy’s throat. He was containing himself, but it was damned hard.
Paige had been so pale. Her dark hair had contrasted with the white sheet beneath her. So damned vulnerable. He wanted answers. “He lawyered up. He doesn’t care about explaining himself. I say we have him booked and let him rot in the cage.”
They couldn’t question him, not after him asking for a lawyer. Sin had read him his rights before shoving him in the chair where he now sat. Legally, they couldn’t force the guy to say anything. But they could scare him a little. “He’ll get the needle. No question about it. If she dies, he’s toast. And this state has ramped up executions lately. I’ll take a front row seat.”
He could see the sweat on the back of the guy’s neck. “I didn’t know she was a cop.”
“So that makes it all right? Why did you do it?”
“I had to.”
“Why?” Sin asked.
Mick held up a hand to stop the other agent. “Not now. Not until his lawyer is present. I don’t want him out on a technicality. I want him to face the needle for what he did. Detective Beck was on her way inside to see her niece being born. She didn’t deserve a bullet.”
It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but Mick left the room. Before he could crack the guy’s head open. Mick had always followed the rules in his position with the FBI. He wasn’t going to start breaking them now. No matter how much he felt the urge to break the bastard who’d hurt Paige, hurt Detective Beck, too.
He headed back to the waiting room, knowing at least his sister would be there. This baby would be her niece, as well. And she and Carrie Lorcan were close friends.
There were quite a few people in the room—the Hellbrooks, Dan Reynolds and his wife, Ed Dennis and his wife, Carrie Lorcan’s team. Paige’s team was trickling in. The rest of her friends that she sang with when she got the chance. Her brother.
Luc stepped up to him immediately. Mick understood the fear in the man’s dark eyes. Eyes that were just like his sister’s, damn it. Mick held up a hand to one of the few people outside of PAVAD he considered a friend. “I don’t know, yet. I was looking for my sister. She’s next of kin.”
A hand wrapped around his elbow. He looked down into the familiar blue eyes of his sister. “I checked on Paige. She’s had a pretty serious knock to that hard head of hers. She’s awake, but definitely out of it. They’re going to check to ensure she doesn’t have another concussion.”
“Detective Beck?”
“About to go into surgery. Dan is with her dad, waiting on news.”
“What happened?” Jules asked from behind Luc. Mick hadn’t realized his brother and sister-in-law had arrived. “There was chatter about an officer involved. PAVAD was mentioned.”
Which meant the hospital was about to be flooded with even more PAVAD agents. All willing to help where needed. Mick would take advantage of it. “Someone shot at Paige and Melody Beck. Paige has been admitted with a possible concussion. And Detective Beck is in surgery. It looked pretty serious,” Mick said, trying to push the image of Paige and Melody Beck laughing at something just the night before.
“The shooter?” Mal asked.
“Sin Lorcan’s in with him now. Lawyered up.”
“I’ll take a look at him. See if I can get a profile started,” Mal said. “Jules, check on the Lorcans and Paige. I know that’s what you’re wanting to do.”
Someone tapped Mick on the back. He turned around to see Sin. “Guy’s clammed up. But he gave me this.”
He handed Mick the photo he held pinched between a tissue. “I didn’t have an evidence bag.”
He turned to the crowded waiting room. “Anyone have an evidence bag?”
Mick fought down the impatience as Ed Dennis’ wife—head of the forensics lab—bagged the small photo. She handed it to Mick. “I’ll label it in a moment.”
“Thanks.” He looked at Sin, then the photo. “He say anything?”
“He said he was forced to do it. To follow this woman, until this one showed up. To take out the redhead.”
Mick looked at the photo. At the eight people in it. He recognized the dark hair and eyes immediately. To her left was another girl he recognized, too.
One who bore a close resemblance to Melody Beck.
He looked at Sin, and the others that surrounded them, as what that meant sank in. “Tighten security around this place even more. Do it now. Focus on Paige’s floor—and the maternity ward.”
“Mick?” Al asked, trying to peek at the photo.
“Shooter was meant for Carrie.” Sin’s fury was clear for all to hear. “He thought Melody Beck was her sister.”
“But why?” Al had the photo now. “They’re just kids here, barely fifteen or sixteen. Think someone has targeted Carrie again?”
Her fiancé rubbed her shoulders. “Why did the shooter say he was forced?”
“Someone threatened his sister. Told him if he didn’t shoot the woman, his sister would have her throat slashed. She’s out there, missing, now.”
Ed Dennis was listening. His son-in-law, founder of the CCU, was at his side. Ed turned to him. “Hell, get your team on it. I want answers fast. If there’s a missing girl out there, she needs to be found. If there’s someone else targeting Carrie Lorcan or Paige, we need to know quickly. Mick, status of your case?”
“Following leads. Detective Beck was the TSP detective in charge of the case. That’s why she flew back with us. She was on her way up here anyway. I’ll call her partner and have him brought here now. He was going to remain behind to handle the Texas angle.”
“Good. Move quickly people. Move quickly.”
“I need to see Paige.” Mick wanted to see for himself that she was ok. The sight of her as she’d fallen—that was something he would never be able to erase.
“No talk of work.” His sister-in-law was firm on that. “She’ll need to rest. She’s at a higher risk for complications now. She’s had far too many concussions lately. She needs to be kept calm and quiet, period.”
“I won’t upset her.” But he was firm on this. He had to see her for himself. “But I’m going to talk to her.”
“We’ll both go in,” her brother said. “I need to see her myself.”
“Just remember, she’ going to be confused. In pain, certainly. And from what I recall of Paige and hospitals, not very cooperative.” Jules shuffled to a nearby bench. “When you are finished, I want to see her.”
Mick knew she and Paige, close friends to begin with, had grown closer since they had been kidnapped. He could see the worry in his sister-in-law’s eyes. “We won’t be long. You stay inside and wait for Mal to get finished.”
“Go. Be nice to her. I mean it, Mick. Nice.”
Did she think he’d be that much of an ogre where Paige was concerned? Surely Jules knew him better than that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He and Luc took the elevators to the third floor where Paige was being kept. Mick nodded to the two agents guarding her door. “Djorn, Jones, we’ll be inside for a while. Keep everyone else out.”
“Of course,” Djorn nodded. He was with Mick’s brother’s team, and Mick trusted him to keep a close eye on Paige. “She’s been arguing with the doctors about keeping her, just an FYI.”
“Of course she is; that’s Daviess for you.” If she was feeling up to arguing, then she was going to be ok, wasn’t she?
Even he realized the faults in that logic.
Mick pushed open the door. She was dressed in a thin hospital gown and a female doctor was trying to check her blood pressure. Paige was moving around, being decidedly uncooperative.
“Paige, sit still. Just let her do her job.” Mick fought to keep a bite out of his tone. It wasn’t her he was upset with—it was the stitch holding her lip together, the bandage over her forehead, and the air cast on her arm. The IV stuck in her other hand.
He hated seeing her so damned vulnerable. It reminded him of Mara far too much.
Luc hugged her. “Quit being so difficult, and tell us how you’re feeling.”
“My head hurts, but I’m fine. These people just like to keep others captive while they stick sharp things in skin.”
“They’re trained to make sure you continue being fine.” Mick stepped up next to the bed. “The faster you are back to normal, the faster you can get out of that bed and help me find the bastard responsible. So for once in your life, lie back and cooperate.”
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