To Write a Wrong

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To Write a Wrong Page 17

by Robin Caroll


  Man, but she hurt. She’d never been so sore in all her life.

  Riley leaned forward as the nurse used pillows to prop her arm in the most comfortable position to take the pressure off her shoulder. They hadn’t been able to give her morphine because of her allergies, and what they’d just put in her IV drip wasn’t working worth mentioning.

  “There. Better?” Betty, her nurse, stood back and smiled.

  Better? She’d been shot. She ached all over. What kind of sadistic person asked such a stupid question considering everything? Riley refrained from replying. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tick off her nurse. Who knew if she’d ever get her pain medication if she did? “Thank you.”

  The nurse smiled wider and pressed buttons on the IV control panel. “We’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” She patted Riley’s foot. “You get some rest, sweetie.”

  Yeah. As if. Her mind raced. Shot. She’d been shot! She still couldn’t quite process it all. Everything had happened so fast. But slow at the same time.

  It didn’t make sense.

  A knock sounded on the door, then Hayden’s head poked in. “Hey, can I come in?”

  Her heart kicked up a notch. “Sure.”

  He came and stood at her bedside, staring at her with such intensity she grew uneasy. He must have noticed because he looked away, grabbed the chair and pulled it closer, and sat. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been shot.” She offered a weak grin. Finally, the pain meds were beginning to take the edge off the sharpness. That, or Hayden being here made her feel better.

  He grinned back. “Ha. Ha.” He pulled out his notebook but didn’t open it. “The doctor said you were very lucky.”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  “It wasn’t luck. It was God keeping you safe.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish God would have told me to keep on driving and not stop for the truck.”

  He flipped open his notebook. “Tell me about it.”

  She nodded, then told him everything that happened—the flashers, the truck, the car seat in the road. “And then everything went black and the next thing I knew, I woke up here, with doctors and nurses surrounding me.”

  He looked up from his notepad. “Can you hang on just a minute?” He lifted his cell phone before she could respond and took a couple of steps away from the bed. “Officer Gaston, it’s Hayden. Describe the crime scene to me, please.”

  He flashed her a weak smile. “Okay. Yeah.” Pause. “Yeah.” Another pause. “Right.” He shut the phone and returned to her bedside.

  “What?”

  “The truck and infant carrier are there. A police cruiser came as you fell, so no one had time to remove anything from the scene.”

  “The headlights.” She remembered that. “I saw headlights coming straight for me just before I went dark.”

  “Did you see anyone at the scene?”

  “No.”

  “Hear anything strange?”

  If only she had. “Not that I remember.” A tornado spun in her stomach.

  “It’s okay. Don’t stress over it. It could come back to you when you least expect it.”

  Right.

  “The crime unit is there gathering forensic evidence. There’s a good chance whoever shot you planned to remove the truck after shooting you so he wasn’t careful and left behind evidence.”

  There was that. She could hope.

  He hesitated.

  She recognized that look. “What?”

  “I hate to ask, but I have to.”

  “Go ahead.” Her brother was, after all, an agent. She knew all about questions and answers and reports. “Shoot. Not literally, of course.”

  He grinned, then turned serious again. “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you?”

  Like someone who would try to kill her? Shoot her and leave her for dead in the middle of a dark bayou road? “No one I can think of.”

  “You’re a journalist, Riley. Surely you’ve made an enemy or two.”

  Now it was her turn to grin, even though her shoulder throbbed and burned, which the doctor had told her was perfectly normal. More like perfectly painful. “In case you weren’t paying attention, this series I’m working on are the first bylines I’ve had at the magazine.”

  “Right.” He focused on his notebook. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Or was it? Didn’t matter. “So I don’t think I’ve made any enemies with my articles.”

  “Are you sure?” He lowered his notebook to his lap. “I mean, someone broke into Mom’s house. In the room you’re staying in. And now you’ve been shot.”

  It did seem like someone had targeted her. “I don’t know. It’s a little too coincidental, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “I wish I could remember more. I’m not much help.” Frustration mixed with the pain medication, burning the back of her throat.

  Hayden took her right hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t get yourself worked up. Rafe and Remington are on their way, and if you’re stressed out, Rafe will have my head.”

  She forced herself to smile. “You know, Hayden Simpson, I really like you. As a matter of fact, I like you a lot. A whole lot.”

  He smiled, sending her pulse into such overdrive, she could hear it thrumming in her ears. “Well, Riley Baxter, that’s a good thing, because I happen to really like you too. A lot. A whole lot.”

  Even her tummy oozed warmth throughout her body. “So, what are we going to do about this liking each other?”

  That easygoing smile of his flashed across his chiseled face. “I think we should follow through on the feelings . . . see what we uncover.”

  “Is that your professional opinion, Commissioner?” She suddenly felt woozier.

  “As a matter of fact, it is.”

  Everything shifted in and out of focus. She blinked. Again. And again, but she still couldn’t get focused.

  “Hey”—he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles—“I’ll find him.”

  Her pulse spiked as his touch warmed her.

  “I promise you that—I’ll find whoever shot you and see him punished.”

  And she had no doubt Hayden Simpson was a man of his word.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “The LORD within her is righteous; he does no wrong. Morning by morning he dispenses his justice, and every new day he does not fail, yet the unrighteous know no shame.”

  ZEPHANIAH 3:5

  “Crime unit’s about done gathering what they can.” Officer Gaston gestured to the technicians closing suitcases. “They’ve called for fresh eyes and more lights to search the area for forensic evidence from the scene, but they’re impounding the truck and that infant car seat to go over it with a fine-tooth comb.”

  Hayden nodded as he surveyed the area lit up by standing flood lights blazing against the black backdrop. He tightened his grip on the handle of his police flashlight. Various official vehicles parked at odd angles—his cruiser, Officers Fontenot and Gaston’s, the crime-scene unit, and . . . local sheriff?

  “Who’s here from parish?” He motioned to the out-of-place car.

  Officer Gaston shrugged. “Introduced himself as a deputy sheriff. Don’t know him. He’s talking with the crime-unit techs.”

  Great. A probable jurisdiction battle. Technically, it was a gray area and the lines were blurred. Usually in cases like this, first on the scene took the case. Officer Fontenot had arrived before Riley even hit the ground. Hayden’s team should get the case.

  He’d make sure of it. The deputy would probably be grateful not to have to fill out any paperwork. Then again, he’d come even though Hopewell PD was already on-site.

  Hayden turned, inspecting the scene.

  The white
truck sat on the shoulder. An infant’s car seat on the road beside it. Her car almost sideways in her lane. Just like Riley had described.

  “Have they recovered the bullet?”

  Gaston shook his head and kept his flashlight beam on the ground. “No, sir. And the techs have looked. I’ve looked. Nothing.”

  “Keep looking. That bullet’s here somewhere.”

  “Yes, sir. Crime unit has called in more techs and better lights.”

  Hayden had to steel himself against flinching as he stood beside the taped outline of where Officer Fontenot had found Riley. He glanced over his shoulder shining his flashlight, then down the road, then to the outline. “She said she got a funny feeling, so she was walking back to her car when she was shot.”

  Gaston remained silent but nodded.

  “She was shot in the back, which means the shooter had to be over in that area.” He spun and peered into the wooded area separating the road from the bayou. “According to the doctor, the wound came from the back and at an angle.” He gauged about thirty degrees and pointed. “From about the height of those old trees there.”

  “I’m on it, sir.” Gaston sprinted in that direction with his flashlight, calling out to one of the technicians to join him.

  The uniformed sheriff’s deputy closed the distance between them with his hand extended. “Deputy Max Ingram, West Baton Rouge Parish sheriff’s office.”

  Hayden shook his hand and introduced himself. “Little surprised to see someone from parish here since we called it in on-site.”

  “Normally, we’d leave it alone, but we have a couple of recent homicides we’re hoping forensics will connect to this one.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Two guys were taken out by high-powered shots from over four hundred yards. Both chest shots. Both on isolated roads. At night, but not overly late.”

  Sounded similar enough that Hayden would check it out too, if he were the sheriff. “But your victims were male?”

  “Right. And they were both killed on impact.”

  Which Riley probably would have been, had she not turned slightly because something creeped her out. That bullet could have easily entered her chest, killing her. Chills crept up the back of Hayden’s neck. “Did you recover any forensic evidence at either of your scenes?”

  “Not much. We got the bullets. Our estimate of distance and angle of shot is consistent with both homicides, which according to what I see here, looks to be about the same as yours.”

  “We haven’t recovered a bullet yet.”

  “Your crime techs are good. Heard they called in more lights to scour the area around where the body was found.” The deputy straightened. “You stand a much better chance of getting evidence with the truck and infant seat. Who knows, might be the killer’s MO and he had time to clear the scenes before we got to ours. But you got here too fast for him. If the bullets match . . .”

  Then there was a good chance they’d catch the guy. If that was the case, the two departments would have to work together. And then there was Rafe.

  “I should warn you. The victim, Riley Baxter, her brother’s an FBI agent and on his way.”

  “New Orleans office?”

  “Nope, Little Rock.”

  “A little out of their area, but they’re feds and can do what they want. Think he’ll pull the case?”

  “They could, but I know him. He’s a friend of a friend . . . of sorts.” The relationship dynamic was too complicated to explain. “He won’t be shut out, that’s for sure, but I think he’ll be okay with me working the case.”

  As if he wouldn’t. This was Riley. She might be Rafe’s sister, but she was Hayden’s . . . what? He didn’t know, but it scared him to think he might not have had time to figure it out had the bullet been an inch off.

  “Well, until we rule out there’s a connection to our homicides, I need to work the case too.”

  Normally, Hayden might make noises about calling jurisdiction from the get-go. But this was Riley, and he wanted any and all resources available to catch her shooter. Federal, parish, local—it didn’t matter as long as someone was brought to justice for nearly killing her.

  Just the thought had Hayden fisting his hands.

  “No reason we can’t work together, right?” He peered at the deputy. “Maybe get all three cases solved.”

  “I think we’re on the same page.”

  “Good.” Hayden walked back and forth between the truck and Riley’s car. He liked to try to get into the head of the perp. He retraced the steps back to the truck. Back to the car. Again. Once more.

  This was planned . . .

  The flashers, attention getter. The truck, the big blockade. The infant seat, the guarantee stop for a woman. All carefully planned to get Riley out in the open to get a shot.

  Why? Was it just a shooter’s MO, or was this one different? Personal?

  Hayden stared into the night illuminated by the stand of lights and his own flashlight. Why would someone want to kill Riley?

  He didn’t know, but he was certainly going to find out.

  “Really, Ardy. There’s no need to go to any trouble.”

  “Nonsense. I want to do this.” Ardy glanced at her daughter. “We want to do it, right, Emily?” She poured water into the cup and set it on the adjustable table at Riley’s bedside.

  Riley’s new friend winked at her. “You might as well tell Mom your favorite dessert and let her make it for you, otherwise she’ll make about twenty and you’ll have to eat them all. You’ll get fat and then my brother won’t fall madly in love with you.” She grinned wider as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “What’s this about Hayden falling in love with my sister?” Rafe blew into the room, Remington on his heels.

  A fresh wave of heat shot across Riley’s face. Why did Rafe have to hear Emily’s teasing? “She’s just picking on me, trying to make me laugh.” She held out her hand to him. “You didn’t have to rush back. I’m fine. Doctors say I’ll be released tomorrow, probably. I hate that you wasted the time.”

  “Wasted my time?” He took her head, bent, and kissed her forehead. “Silly girl. Coming to see my baby sister who’s been shot isn’t a waste of my time.”

  “Nor is it mine,” said a familiar female voice from the door.

  “Mads! You’re here.” Happiness bubbled inside.

  “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be with my sister shot?” She moved Rafe out of the way, leaning down and hugging Riley one-sided. She pressed her lips to Riley’s temple. “I love you, goofy.”

  Tears snuck into Riley’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Well, although unnecessary, I’m glad you’re both here.”

  Remington gave a little cough. “Ardy and Emily, this is Rafe and Riley’s sister, Maddie. This is Hayden’s mom and sister.”

  The polite exchanges went around the room, then moments later, Ardy patted Riley’s feet hiding under the covers. “We’re going to head on to the house.” She smiled at Remington, Rafe, and Maddie. “We have rooms set for all of you, so we’ll see you back at the house whenever you’re ready.”

  “We can stay at a hotel, Mrs. Simpson,” Maddie said.

  Riley chewed her bottom lip. Would Maddie fare any better with the same argument as Riley had?

  “Nonsense. I insist you stay with me. It’s settled.”

  Riley locked stares with Emily, and they both giggled.

  Maddie looked at Riley. “What’s funny?”

  Both Riley and Emily laughed even harder, until pain radiated down from Riley’s shoulder. She sobered immediately.

  “Are you okay?” Remington asked.

  “Just really sore.” She shifted against the pillow. “I keep forgetting not to move my shoulder.”

  “We’re gonna he
ad on out, honey. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Ardy patted her feet again. “You feel better.”

  “Yeah, take it easy.” Emily smiled before following her mother.

  “Mrs. Simpson?” Maddie called out.

  “Yes?”

  “Chocolate pie.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s Riley’s favorite dessert.”

  “Merci, my dear.” Ardy and Emily left.

  “Do you need any more pain medication?” Maddie asked.

  “No. It’s okay now.”

  Rafe went agent on her. “What happened?”

  Yet again, Riley retold the story. Maybe she should just record it and play it back for anyone who asked. Finally, she reached the end. “And Hayden left to go to the scene. That’s all I know.”

  Rafe nodded. “I think I’ll head over there. See if I can help.”

  Remington grabbed his arm. “I think I’d better go with you. To remind you it’s Hayden’s case. Not yours. Stop you from trying to take over.”

  He shook his head, then kissed Riley’s again. “Okay, squirt. Try to stay out of trouble.”

  She chuckled. “I’m already shot . . . what more can I do?”

  “Maddie, we’ll come back for you as soon as I’m done at the scene.”

  “No rush. I want to catch up with Riley anyway.”

  In moments, she was alone with her sister. “I can’t tell you how terrified I was when Rafe called.” Maddie pulled the chair up close to the bed and held her hand.

  “Hey, I’m okay.” But Riley couldn’t help loving that her sister was here now, like this, with her. “Doctor said I’m going to be back to 100 percent in no time.”

  “I know.” Maddie sniffed. “But it made me scared all the same. You and Rafe . . . since Mom and Dad . . . y’all are all I have.”

  “Mads, we all have each other.”

  “Rafe has Remington now.” Maddie grinned. “I think he’ll pop the question before the end of the year.”

  “Really?” But she wasn’t surprised. The way the two of them interacted. . . Yeah, she could see them married. They’d be happy together. “I’m happy for them.”

 

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