Edge of the Heat 2 (Westwood Harbor Corruption)

by Ladew, Lisa

  She didn’t recognize the other agent. She pushed the door open far enough that she could tiptoe out of it. He snapped his head around to look at her. “Hi,” she whispered. “If I go use the bathroom will you let me back in?”

  “Yes, bosses orders you are allowed in the room,” he said, his voice pitched low.

  Phew. Emma headed to the bathroom, changed her clothes to jeans and a dark blue pullover, plus comfy sneakers, then washed up in the sink the best she could. She left the bathroom intending to find some more food. Agent Kinkaid was waiting outside for her.

  He smiled faintly. “Sleeping Beauty is awake.”

  “Yeah, what was that about? Did I miss anything?”

  His smile widened and he almost seemed about to laugh. But then the smile fell away. “You had a rough day. I’m not surprised you slept so long. And no, you didn’t miss anything. Are you going to find some food?”

  She nodded.

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  “Please,” she said, heading for the elevator.

  They went down to the cafeteria, Emma grabbing fruit and pastries plus three little cartons of milk. She would have loved to have bacon and eggs but the grill didn’t open till 6, a sign said. Agent Kinkaid got some coffee. They paid and sat down at a table.

  “Did you read through his chart yet? I was hoping you would interpret it for me. The doctor and I keep playing phone tag and the nurses just say ‘you have to talk to the doctor.’”

  Emma looked at him inquisitively. “Is that what’s in the folder?”

  He nodded.

  She opened her bag and pulled it out. “I’ll do it right now.”

  She opened the chart, flipping to the back to read it from the beginning. It started with the notes in the E.R., a few scribbled lines about where and how he was found. He was typed and crossmatched immediately and had a wide open flow of donor blood within 10 minutes. X-ray found no spinal issues but did find one bullet lodged in his cheek. It had smashed a molar on the way there.

  Emma’s hands flew to her mouth. She’d personally seen several gunshot victims and even watched a few die in front of her, but she hadn’t loved any of them. This was much harder.

  The chart noted he was wearing a bullet proof vest with a bullet in the back of it. They had removed the vest and found his back black and blue from the impact.

  A physical exam found a bullet wound in the back of his neck. This bullet traveled through his neck to his skull, around the skull, and into his cheek, lodging there. There were many more small wounds in the back of his head. Examination of his helmet found a bullet had shattered the back of it, but not penetrated all the way through. The part of the helmet facing his skull was battered and bulging, causing these small plastic shrapnel wounds.

  Three bullets. He’d been shot once in the back and twice in the back of the head. Emma felt sick. If he hadn’t been wearing that bulletproof vest he’d be dead.

  She relayed all of this to Agent Kinkaid. He nodded. He knew this part.

  “Agent Kinkaid, do you know why he was wearing a bulletproof vest?” Emma asked slowly, emotion still clogging her throat, one tear winding its way down her cheek.

  He reached out and took her hand and nodded. “I do, and I’ll tell you why when you are done reading the chart,” he said softly. “And call me Hawk.”

  Emma looked in his eyes and knew something had changed in the last 28 hours while she’d been asleep. He trusted her now, or wanted to treat her like a friend. Something. “Hawk.” She tried it out, then nodded.

  He let go of her hand and she turned the page. Craig had been rushed straight to surgery. The bullet in his cheek had been removed, the smashed molar had been pulled, and his neck had been opened up to see what else was damaged in that sensitive area. His skull was grooved, but fully intact. The bullet had entered incredibly close to his spine, and the swelling in the back of his neck was extreme. His jugular vein had been nicked, but his jugular artery, not touched. Emma’s eyes flew over the surgery notes. She couldn’t believe how lucky he’d been. Everything had been fixed. A full recovery was expected.

  So why was he still unconscious?

  Emma turned the page. The surgeon had recommended a medically induced coma for 48 hours to let the swelling go down in his neck before he started moving around. There had been a bit of swelling on the brain too because of the groove in his skull, and the surgeon was afraid the pressure in his head would cause him to thrash and permanently injure his neck if they had let him wake before that.

  Emma skimmed through the last 24 hours of notes. Great vital signs. All positive indications of healing. Signs of the swelling going down. His medication would be reduced starting at 6 o’clock this morning and he could wake as early as 10! Relief flooded her. She was going to get him back. He was going to be ok.

  “Hawk, they’re going to wake him up today!” She stood up and grabbed her stuff, intending to run all the way back to the ICU.

  “Wait, wait, Emma. What time?”

  She stopped and looked at the clock on the wall. “Well, they are going to start reducing his meds in about an hour.”

  “OK, so we have time. Sit, tell me what else the chart said.”

  “It says he’s going to be fine. The bullet hit a big vein and touched his skull but didn’t shatter it. His spine was bruised too, but should be fine. That’s why he’s been unconscious. They’ve kept him under with drugs so the swelling in his spine could go down.”

  “He’s going to recover then?” Hawk’s face was tight and guarded.

  “A full recovery is expected. Everything was fixed in surgery.”

  Hawk’s face was unreadable for a moment. His eyes looked dead and dull. Emma couldn’t tell if he was upset, or struggling with something. Her eyebrows creased together. “Hawk?”

  He crumpled. His hand covered his eyes and he took a deep, shaky breath like he was trying not to cry. Emma knew right then why Craig had been wearing a bullet proof vest and how the FBI knew about Craig being hurt so quickly. She gave Hawk a few minutes to recover his control before continuing. “Hawk, I know you are running this show, but I think it’s time you tell me what’s really going on here.”

  Hawk wiped his eyes and gave her that faint smile again. “I’m going to Emma. But you have to promise me one thing. That you won’t think any differently of Craig when you hear it.”

  Chapter 8

  Emma couldn’t find any saliva in her mouth. She licked her lips but it was like sandpaper sliding over a cracked windshield. The white cafeteria walls pressed in on her. Not feel any different about Craig? Her mind flew to the worst scenarios. He was married. He was gay. He was living a double life. But none of those explained why he would be wearing a bulletproof vest. He’s a cop.

  Her heart dropped. No matter what Hawk ended up saying here, the truth would reveal that Craig had lied to her about something. That much was obvious.

  “I can’t promise I won’t feel different,” she finally squeaked out.

  Hawk looked worried. “Well can you promise to keep an open mind?”

  “Yes, I can do that.”

  Hawk leaned forward and kept his voice low. “Emma, Craig is an FBI agent, and my best friend. In fact, he was almost my brother-in-law until his fiance, my sister, was killed three years ago - probably by your ex-husband. That’s why he was wearing a bulletproof vest. He always wears it under his t-shirt. That’s why he was wearing a bulletproof helmet too, I ordered that for him myself.”

  Emma’s world swam. FBI. Fiance. Norman. Best friend. Killed. Her thoughts tumbled together. She looked down at the table, trying to process everything she had just heard. It was no use. She couldn’t make sense of it. She didn’t want to make sense of it. After the hell she had been through over the last few days, her tortured mind had started to hope again that when Craig recovered maybe they could make a life together. Maybe they would get married and start a family. Maybe her life could settle down into a sweet rhythm. But now, that fantasy was shat
tered. Craig was FBI. Not a firefighter at all. Norman had killed someone. Norman had killed Craig’s fiance. Norman had killed Hawk’s sister. Norman had killed a woman.

  “Look, Emma, I know this is a lot to take in all at once. Craig would not have lied to you if he didn’t have to. He is undercover, working for me. We have several agents undercover in departments around the city, all working on the same case. He was required to lie to you. But he likes you a lot. I think he is starting to feel more for you than just like actually. He thinks you are really special and he talks about you all the time. He was very concerned how you would take it when you discovered he was FBI.”

  This news did nothing to help Emma’s outlook. There was so much more to this than the relationship between Emma and Craig. Emma looked at Hawk again. My ex-husband killed your sister? If Norman already killed someone then did he try to kill Craig too?

  “Hawk, who do you think shot Craig?”

  Hawk looked over at the cafeteria workers who had started to open up more of the kitchen. He seemed to be deciding what to say here.

  He looked back at Emma, determination on his face. “Someone wants us to think you did.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. Her swirling thoughts fled in alarm. “Me!” She pushed back in her chair, looking desperately around the room. Was she about to be arrested again?

  Hawk put a hand out. “Calm down Emma, I know you didn’t shoot Craig. But someone planted some evidence to try to make it look like you did.”

  Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt like she was in a bad movie. On top of everything that had already happened to her now she was being framed for attempted murder too?

  “What-What kind of evidence?”

  “We found the gun in the woods, partially buried, that probably was used to shoot Craig. Ballistics tests are being done right now to see for sure, but I’m confident they will come back positive. The only fingerprints on the gun belong to you.”

  Emma got up and paced back and forth in front of the table. Her fingernails bit into her palms. She didn’t even own a gun, so how could her fingerprints get on a gun? Wait! She remembered just getting fingerprinted the day before yesterday. She turned on her heel and slid back into the chair, balled up fists on the table. “How do you have my fingerprints?” she demanded.

  “We have access to them from when you were in the Army.”

  “Oh.” She felt deflated a little bit.

  “Are you wondering if the local police would have had access to them?”

  She nodded fiercely.

  “No, they wouldn’t normally have been able to search that database. They can request it if they have a reason to, and the Army would normally cooperate.”

  “I was fingerprinted the day before yesterday when I was arrested.”

  Hawk nodded. “Yes, I know. In fact, I’m pretty sure your ex-husband was behind your arrest. As I told you before, he and Jeffries are both dirty, and I believe they work together a lot.”

  Emma looked down again, chewing on her lip. She looked back up at Hawk. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  Hawk smiled. “Thank you. I am too. She was a wonderful, sweet woman. And someday Norman will pay for what he did to her.”

  Emma nodded and glanced at the clock. “I still need to talk to you more, a lot more, but it’s almost 6. They are going to lower Craig’s medication soon.”

  Hawk nodded. “Let’s get upstairs.”

  ***

  Back in the room, Emma sat next to Craig’s bed in the chair and held his hand. Hawk stood at the foot of the bed and they continued their conversation, quietly, alert for interruptions. When the nurse came in to change his medication level, they both watched in silence.

  Nothing changed. Craig slept peacefully, no sign of the dimples Emma loved so much. Emma studied his face, trying to figure out how she felt about him being an FBI agent.

  She was conflicted. She had sworn she would never date another cop a long time ago. But was he really a cop like Norman was a cop? And he certainly was not one of the bad guys. She remembered something he had said to her an eternity ago: “I try very hard every day to be one of the good guys.” She could believe that. He was a good guy from his head to his toes.

  And the fact that he had lied to her? That part was a bit easier to forget for her. She had lied to him too, at least by omission, and he had forgiven her. Plus he had to lie, he didn’t have a choice.

  She thought back to her mistakes in the relationship. When she had gotten hurt at work a few weeks ago and had the vision of the perfect man for her while unconscious, the man she was convinced couldn’t be Craig, which was horrible because Craig actually did seem to be perfect for her. Then she’d gone and dated that scumbag doctor while she was also dating Craig, because his darker hair and darker skin meant he could be the man from the vision. Then she’d asked out one of Craig’s friends practically right in front of Craig because she thought he could have been the man from the vision. That had hurt Craig badly, and he’d walked out of her life, almost for good. He had read her letter of explanation though, and although it hadn’t been enough to make him forgive her, the night that he had found her unconscious in the woods his heart had let go of the hurt instantly.

  Thinking about that night clinched it for her. Her mind discovered what her heart already knew. She loved Craig the firefighter, and she loved Craig the FBI agent too. Her heart swelled with it. Her soul ached with it.

  Come on baby, wake up please. I want to squeeze your hand and feel you squeeze mine back. I want to see you smile and laugh and hear your voice. I want to see those luscious dimples light up your face.

  The door opened again. A neat, compact doctor came in. He looked from Hawk to Emma and said, “I’m glad you are both here. Mr. Masterson is going to wake up in a few hours, and we are going to have to ask both of you to leave.”

  “What? Why?” Hawk leaned toward the doctor intensely.

  Because when he wakes there will be several staff members here. He will need to be watched closely and assessed for neurological deficiencies. There won’t be room in here for you.

  Hawk flicked his eyes at Emma, then back to the doctor. “I need to be in here doc. I’ll stand in the corner. I won’t say a word, and I won’t take up any space. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  The Doctor looked at Emma pointedly.

  “I’ll go, that’s fine,” she said, smoothing Craig’s hair. She didn’t want to go, but Hawk needed to be here for a few reasons, she was sure. She just wanted to be here.

  “Fine Agent Kinkaid, but not one word,” the doctor warned.

  “You got it. What time will all this happen?”

  “As soon as he shows signs of stirring. If there aren’t any by 10 o’clock we will give him a drug that will counteract the one that’s been keeping him under.”

  Emma leaned over and kissed Craig on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, “I’ll be close by baby, I’ll come back to see you as soon as I can.”

  She gathered her stuff together and put it by the door, ready to go, then she resumed her place at Craig’s side. She eyed the phone, wondering if she should call Jerry and see if he could have lunch. She could use something to take her mind off not being in the room as Craig woke up.

  The doctor examined Craig, pronounced him good, and left the room.

  “Sorry,” Hawk said.

  “That’s OK, I’m just glad they are letting you stay.”

  “Me too. I would have put up a fight though. Are you going to stay in the hospital?”

  “Yes, I had planned on it. Maybe I will just go and have lunch.”

  Hawk nodded. “Do me a favor? If you see Norman or Jeffries, or any cops at all really, come back up here and sit with the guards outside the door, ok?”

  Emma nodded. “Do you think I’ll see them?”

  Hawk sighed, pushing a big hand through his military hair cut. “I don’t know what they have planned. I expect Norman to be pretty desperate when he fi
nds out Craig is alive. I expect he also would rather you were still sitting in the cellblock too. Your friend did you a big favor when he got you out of there.”

  Emma shivered at the thought of still sitting in the cellblock, alone, scared, and having no idea what was going on with Craig. Thank God for Jerry getting me out of there and thank God for Hawk, letting me stay here, she thought with appreciation.

  Emma’s trained ears picked up an increase in the speed of Craig’s heartbeat on the monitor. Beep, beep, beep. She looked down at Craig and saw his eyelids flutter for a second. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

  “Is he waking up?” Hawk asked, excitement in his voice.

  Emma studied Craig’s face, but it remained smooth, relaxed. “Not yet. But his heart rate is up. A nurse will probably be sent in here to stay soon, because when he starts breathing on his own he might fight this tube. They’ll take it out at the first signs of that.”

  Still holding Craig’s hand, she made a grab for the phone on the little table just out of her reach. Hawk fished something out of his pocket and gave her a cell phone. “Here, take this. It’s Craig’s, it’s all charged up.”

  She smiled her thanks at him and dialed Jerry’s number.

  “Sure Em, I can meet you for lunch - I have to leave at 11:30 though.”

  ***

  On the way down to the cafeteria, Emma called work. She knew she had been put on the injured list when she got med-evaced down to the hospital, but she hadn’t talked to anyone since. Fielding, the day supervisor answered. Emma was happy to get him; He was a super nice guy.

  “Hi Fielding, it’s Emma Hill, uh, I was injured a few days ago and just wanted to make sure I got taken off the schedule.”