“Why are we going up?” Spencer demanded, breathing heavily.
“You’re going to warn the pediatric ward and make sure they are barricaded inside. I’m going to the roof and down the fire escape ladder. Then I’ll head to the daycare. I need to find Henriksson’s wife and son.” And Tabitha.
What sort of world did they live in where a man could beat his wife, then threaten anyone who objected with a gun? The echo of footsteps below them had them running faster.
* * *
CAL HANDED OVER his insurance and registration.
Talbot was grinning at him like a man who’d won a full million on the lottery.
“Surely you have better things to do on Christmas Eve?” Cal asked the guy.
“Despite what you may think, I don’t sit around waiting for you to screw up, Landon.” The sheriff’s expression grew grim. “There was an accident on the sixty-eight, and I was just heading back to town when I saw someone speeding. Not my fault you were breaking the law.”
“Was the accident bad?” Cal asked. Shit. What a thing to happen on Christmas Eve.
The sheriff looked down at his feet. “Three teenagers driving too fast, ran off the road and rolled a bunch of times.” He hitched up his equipment belt.
Cal winced. The guy was a dick, but Cal didn’t envy him his job. “Well, I hope they’re okay.”
The radio went off, and the sheriff froze in the act of writing out his ticket. He reached down. “Repeat dispatch.”
Cal heard “man with a gun” and “shots fired” and then the location, “County Hospital.” A very bad feeling came over him.
“Ten-four. I’m en route.” Talbot threw Cal’s documents back at him through the open window. “Consider this a warning.” He jogged back to his car, put on the sirens and cherry lights, and took off.
What the hell? Cal frowned. A shooter at County?
He put his truck in gear and pressed his foot down to the floor. He tried to call Sarah on her cell, but she didn’t answer. Dammit. He called Nat instead. “Something’s going on at County. Meet me there soon as you can.”
He turned on the radio, and a chill rushed over his body. Reports of an armed intruder and shots fired inside the hospital. He called Ryan, but despite Eliza’s high-tech upgrades, cell reception was always spotty and inconsistent on the ranch. He left a message.
Seconds seemed to last forever as he drove the remaining miles to the hospital, foot pressed to the boards most of the way. The sight of Sarah’s Explorer in the parking lot sent a fresh bolt of panic through his veins, as did the sight of black-clad cops surrounding the front entrance. Sarah was in there somewhere. And Tabitha.
A tap on his shoulder had him whirling.
“Is Sarah here?” It was Eliza. Nat stood behind her, eyes scanning the milling crowd that the cops were trying to force back.
Cal swallowed his fear. Shook his head. “Radio said an armed intruder was in the building.”
“Sarah texted me to come get Tabitha.” Even as Nat spoke Cal saw a stream of children being led to safety off to the right. “Eliza, would you please go find Tabitha and look after her until Ryan arrives, please?” The inflection in his voice begged her to do as he asked.
She nodded. Then she slipped something into Nat’s hand and pulled his jacket closed to hide it. Her Glock. “I’m going to make sure Tabitha is safe and see what else I can find out. I don’t want either of you to get hurt, but I have about as much faith in the local cops as in a group of high school students paintballing.”
Nat’s cell beeped again. He checked it. “Sarah’s headed to the roof.”
Eliza nodded. She’d spent weeks here in the spring. “There’s a fire escape around the back of the building that leads from the roof to the ground floor. Go get her to safety, but don’t get shot.” Her gaze was fierce as she kissed her husband full on the lips. Then she cupped Cal’s jaw and gave him a quick smile. “And if you don’t treat her right when we get her out of there, I’m going to shoot you myself.” She shook her head at him and walked away.
Cal watched her leave. If anyone understood exactly what was going on inside his brain, it was Eliza. And he had the sudden realization that running away to keep others safe hadn’t seemed any more reasonable when she’d tried it.
* * *
SPENCER REILLY PEELED off on the top floor of the building and ran into the pediatric ward, locking the door behind him. She heard him shouting instructions to the people inside. Henriksson was panting heavily in their wake.
“I want my wife back, you lying bitch!” he screamed at her.
Great. The slurred words suggested he’d used the morning to refuel his anger with whiskey.
An armed, drunk, wife-beater at Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
She hit the roof level and said a huge “thank you” to the man upstairs when the door opened easily. She slammed it shut and used the master key to lock it behind her. She needed to buy enough time to get down the fire escape. Hopefully local cops would be in the stairwell making their way up. If they could trap the man there, maybe they could talk him down and no one would get hurt. She ran over to the metal ladder and peered down the five stories, swaying slightly as vertigo hit her. Heights were not her thing.
No time to think. Even over the wind she heard Henriksson pounding on the door. She swung her leg over onto the fire escape and gripped the frigid metal with both hands. The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire had her shaking in fear. As fast as she dared, she descended, rust staining her hands orange as the wind whipped up her dress. She shook from cold and fear, her grip getting weaker as she moved as quickly as she could, desperate for the relative safety of the first landing. Suddenly she was looking along the barrel of a rifle, followed by the angry face of Henry Henriksson as he stared over the parapet.
“Get your ass back up here, bitch, or I’ll shoot you where you are.” His fingers tightened on the trigger and Sarah knew, if she wanted to live, she had to stop running. Dammit. She swallowed and nodded. The chance of making it out of this situation alive had just plummeted.
* * *
CAL SPRINTED IN the other direction with Nat on his heels. The local cops were concentrating on the front of the building and people were pouring out, white-faced with fear. The police didn’t have enough manpower to search the entire hospital, control the crowd, segregate potential bad guys, targets, and innocent bystanders. Trying to locate one doctor in this crazy melee would not be their priority. But it was his. He jumped a low wall and smashed through the shrubbery, slamming to a stop with his arm across Nat’s chest as a flash of color high above them caught his eye. Cal’s brain felt as if someone had plugged him into the mains as he watched a man grab a small blonde figure in a red dress and haul her back onto the roof.
“What was Sarah wearing when she left for work this morning?” he asked.
Nat’s mouth was a stern line. “A red dress. Let’s go.”
As soon as the sonofabitch with the rifle moved away from the wall, Cal ran to the fire escape, leaped the first eight feet to the first rung, and hauled himself up, then started climbing fast. The ladder was noisy, but Cal hoped the wind whipped the sound away. After a few more rungs, he toed off his boots. Nat swore as one hit him, but Cal was able to move with much more stealth in his socks. The ladder squeaked slightly but didn’t groan as he raced up the metal skeleton. When he got to the top, he glanced around but didn’t see any sign of the attacker. He jumped over the ledge and waited for Nat to join him. Nat’s bare feet should have made him smile, but he was too numb inside. He grabbed Nat’s arm, pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear.
The guy needed to know the truth before they got into this. “My stepbrother, Terry, threatened Sarah yesterday. That’s why I pushed her away and told her I didn’t love her. He was standing right behind her at the time.” He’d never forgive himself if Sarah was hurt.
Nat’s eyes flashed. “Terry is an asshole, but this isn’t him. I recognize the guy with the
rifle. Henry Henriksson. I’m guessing he finally put his wife in the hospital and got a little upset when someone called social services.”
Cal’s heart raced. “So this isn’t Terry?”
Nat shook his head.
Cal couldn’t believe how convinced he’d been that this was all his fault. It steadied him, though in reality, it made no difference. Sarah was still in imminent danger from a misogynist. The idea of anyone laying hands on her…
Nat pulled out the Glock and checked the witness hole. There was a bullet in the chamber.
Cal was unarmed, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. If the guy hurt Sarah he was going to throw him right off the damn roof. “I’ll circle around the back of the ventilation stack. See if he’s there.”
Nat nodded. “I’m going to head west. We’ll meet on the other side of the stairwell.” Nat pulled out his cell. “Switch yours to silent. Let’s keep an open line between us so we can hear what’s going on—I’ll add Eliza to the call too. Hopefully she can stop the cops shooting us.”
It might stop them shooting Nat, but Cal didn’t think it would win him any favors. He nodded and did as Nat suggested, holding the phone to his ear as he moved cautiously from one piece of cover to the next. There was no one near the ventilation stack.
He heard voices and made his way carefully toward the far side of the stairwell.
“Tell me where my wife and child are, you fucking bitch!” Henriksson shouted at Sarah.
Cal edged around the corner and saw a man holding Sarah by the hair, her face twisted in pain. He wanted to charge the guy, but the gun was slung over his shoulder, the barrel pointed at Sarah’s body in a one handed grip. If Cal surprised the bastard, it would be all too easy for him to pull the trigger.
Cal didn’t recognize him and doubted Henriksson knew his connection to Sarah or the Sullivans. He figured he could draw him out.
He put the phone to his ear and wandered casually into sight. He let his eyes widen in horror as both Henriksson and Sarah looked at him with matching expressions of surprise.
Cal raised his hands and slipped the cell into his shirt pocket. “Dude,” he said, hoping Sarah played along. “What’s going on, man?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Cal took a step back. Henriksson pushed Sarah out of the door as if to follow him. Come on, buddy. Come to Papa. Nat was a good shot. Cal just had to get Henriksson into the open and Sarah away from that damn rifle barrel.
“I just came up for a smoke,” said Cal. He hoped to hell the guy didn’t notice his lack of footwear.
Sarah hid her reaction to his appearance with a squirm that Cal prayed wouldn’t earn her a bullet.
“Mr. Henriksson here is looking for his wife.” Sarah’s eyes spat defiance. “I told him his wife discharged herself and is probably on her way home with their son, right now, but he doesn’t believe me.”
Henriksson tightened his grip on Sarah’s hair and she cried out. Cal had to clamp down on the desire to pummel the bastard to death for laying a hand on his woman. Instead he took a step back, and the guy lumbered toward him. “Dude. This isn’t cool. Let the doc go and go find your wife. Your missus isn’t up on the roof, that’s for darn sure.” He guffawed like an idiot and drew the guy out another step. Come on, asshole.
Henriksson jabbed Sarah hard in the ribs. “She set social services on me. I’m gonna give her a reason why bitches should keep their big mouths shut.”
“Hey, man, I get it.” Cal sent a silent apology to women everywhere. “Some bitches deserve what they get.” He let his voice get hard, and Sarah’s brows rose to her hairline. But finally Henriksson was out in the open and Cal watched Nat slip around the door until he was standing just a few feet behind the guy. Henriksson was even bigger than Nat. Hell, the guy probably weighed the same as the two of them put together.
He waited for Nat to strike the butt of his weapon into the gunman’s temple. But even then, Henriksson didn’t go down. Instead, he gave a huge bear-like bellow and twisted violently, Sarah and the gun both still in his grip. Cal leaped on the gun, shoving the barrel until it pointed away from their bodies. Henriksson pulled the trigger and Cal held on, the barrel burning his fingers as it jerked in his hands. He drove his knee into the big man’s balls while Nat dragged Sarah out of harms way and pushed her behind him, into the stairwell.
“Run, Sarah!” Cal shouted. “Get out of here.”
Henriksson changed tactics and drove forward, pushing Cal backward. Oh, shit. He gained momentum. The lunatic was going to drive him right off the edge of the building. Cal shoved his legs between the other man’s and hooked his foot around his knee. Henriksson tripped and landed like a beached whale on top of Cal. The gun went off again. The noise deafening in intensity, bullets pinging off the brickwork. His eyes searched for Sarah, but he couldn’t see her, thank god. Then Henriksson pressed his forearm across Cal’s throat and Cal couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t defend himself without letting go of the rifle barrel, and if he did that, he was dead. Instead, he helped the asshole empty the magazine, praying the ricochets wouldn’t kill him as his eardrums threatened to burst from the noise. His vision started to gray, but he remembered his legs. He brought his knees hard into Henriksson’s kidney although they didn’t seem to have an impact. The gun finally clicked without firing. Empty.
Cal smiled. Now they were even.
He pried one arm loose and clawed at the giant’s eye, digging his short nails deep into the socket. Nat was behind him trying to draw a bead, but right now they were so tangled up it was impossible to shoot Henriksson without nailing Cal.
Cal dug his fingers in harder. Henriksson reared back in pain, taking the pressure off Cal’s throat and letting him catch a breath.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” Nat called.
Henriksson rolled, dragging Cal to his feet, holding him like a shield in front of him. The man threw down his empty weapon. Sarah ran out of hiding and stood beside Nat, love for Cal clear in her eyes. The big man literally carried him backward, toward the drop off that would kill them both. All Cal could think was he’d never said the words. He’d never told Sarah he loved her.
The knowledge spurred him on. He hadn’t defended himself and his mother all those years ago just so he could die at the hands of another abusive bastard.
He drove his elbow hard into Henriksson’s gut. Then smashed his fist backward into the man’s nose, driving the cartilage upwards into his skull. Henriksson stumbled on the very edge of the building. Cal went down hard on his knees, but the big guy had too much momentum, and was too close to the edge. His arms windmilled and he started falling. Dammit. Part of Cal wanted to let him go, let him fall, and eliminate the problem. But he couldn’t. Cal lunged forward and grabbed Henriksson’s hand. He heard the rush of feet behind him as Nat leaped to do the same. And suddenly there they were, holding onto the fucking asshole as he dangled off the hospital roof.
“Don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall,” Henriksson begged.
“I’m tempted to just let him go,” Nat deadpanned. “World would be a better place.”
They let the words sit there for a moment, small revenge for the panic and fear this man had caused on a day that should have been filled with nothing but joy and peace.
“No,” Cal said clearly. He knew what he wanted now. He’d finally figured out bad things sometimes happened whether he was around or not. At least if he stuck close he could watch out for the people he loved, rather than running away like a dumbass. “I want him to answer for laying hands on my woman. I want him to find out what the prison population does to a big man who beats up small women.” His arms felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. Christ, if someone didn’t come help soon they were going to drop the bastard whether they wanted to or not. Finally he heard the sounds of booted feet. Other hands reached out and hauled Henriksson over the top of them, dragged him farther onto the roof, and cuffed him.
Cal rolled away from the
edge and stared up at the pewter sky. Suddenly, Sarah was standing over him. Hands on hips, looking like a dream come true. Tall black boots, and a red dress that clung to every curve and had come a little askew in the tussle. His eyes traveled up her legs. Even in her white coat she looked hot. Dear god, he was lying there surrounded by twenty law enforcement officers and getting a hard-on just looking at her.
“Forgive me?” he asked quietly.
She looked like she wanted to tap her foot. “Ready to go public with our relationship yet, Landon?”
He came up onto his knees, looked around at a couple of deputies who’d probably break out the cuffs on him next. They were grinning. He looked back at Sarah. “Reckon I just did.” Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him. Rolled her so she was lying beneath him. He brushed her hair away from her face. “I love you, Sarah Sullivan.” He kissed her slowly and tenderly, relishing the contact. “You deserve someone a million times better than me, but if you really want me, let’s get married.”
She smiled at him then, but her eyes narrowed. Uh oh.
“Let’s get married?” Her brows climbed sky-high. He obviously wasn’t forgiven yet. “After you saying you didn’t love me last night and then spending the whole night carousing around town?”
Carousing? He was having a tough time looking away from her lips, which matched her dress. She’d dressed to kill today, and she was killing him. “I was in a holding cell all night.”
Her eyes swept the deputies, and they both had the sense to look away. “I see.”
Her blue gaze was direct and clear when it came back to him. “There’s a ring in the jeweler’s window, white gold, lots of tiny diamonds encrusted in a circular setting. Come home with that and maybe we’ll talk.” She pushed him off her and sashayed to the stairwell, every eye on her as she walked away. They’d already escorted Henriksson away in cuffs.
Her Risk To Take Page 6
