Exposed

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “Do you see him?” he said into the mic that fed the others’ earbuds, ignoring Sydney’s pull on his jacket from behind.

  “To your left, twenty feet,” Jake said in his ear.

  He took a step forward.

  “Eee!” Sydney yelled from his right.

  “Shit, she’s in the open,” Dave said.

  “Get back, Sydney!” Jake’s voice.

  Frank twisted around and his heart slammed into his throat. Where was she going?

  He saw someone running away from her. Who was she chasing?

  Movement caught his eye.

  Geist! He was bearing down on her.

  “Syd!” he yelled, already sprinting her direction.

  She turned, then caught sight of the hit man, his hands grabbing her by the arm. “Frank!”

  One step.

  Two.

  Another, and he leapt.

  Pain seared his left leg, then his shoulder, at the same time he slammed into the man holding Sydney.

  Sydney landed half on the pavement and half on the sod lining the pathway, her head slamming down on a hill of mulch. Stars shot through her vision, as a ton of human flesh landed on top of her, knocking all the air out of her chest.

  An arm came over her head.

  “Don’t move, Syd,” Frank said, his hot breath caressing her neck.

  She sucked in air. “Can’t…breathe,” she whispered.

  He moved slightly, pressing her hip into the concrete, but the pressure on her chest eased slightly—enough to take a deeper breath. The stars started to clear.

  “We’ll get you out quick as we can,” Matt said, somewhere above them. “Jeez, this guy is like moving Kilimanjaro.”

  “Quit bitching and shove,” Dave said.

  “I’m not bitching. He’s got to be three hundred pounds of dead, and I do mean dead, weight.”

  If it didn’t hurt so much to be crushed beneath Geist and Frank, Sydney would laugh at the bickering brothers.

  With a few well-placed grunts, the pressure eased up and Sydney could breathe again.

  “You can let her up, Frank,” Dave said. “Aw, fuck.”

  “You’ve been shot,” Matt announced.

  “No, really?” Frank muttered, his face hovering over hers. “You okay, Syd?”

  She managed a nod as he slowly eased off her body to the side, groaning loudly. Shaking off the dizziness, she wiggled out of the cardigan sweater she’d worn and scrambled onto her knees beside him, trying to assess his injuries. Injuries he’d gotten because of her stupidity.

  Matt was tying something around Frank’s previously shot left leg. A large bloodstain covered his right upper shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, as she pressed the sweater on the wound. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve stayed behind the tree. I thought I could stop Ian. If I’d known this would’ve happened…I never wanted you to get hurt because of…I started back when you yelled…and then Geist…”

  He reached up with his uninjured hand, and grabbed her by the back of the neck, forcing her mouth to his. She held the sweater pressed tight against his shoulder, glad he’d found a way to stop her babbling. After a few moments, he loosened the grip on her neck, and she eased back to stare into the depths of his eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “An ambulance is on the way,” Dave said from beside them.

  “Geist?” Frank asked. He and Sydney both turned to look at the man’s inert body. Blood saturated the front of his chest.

  “Dead,” Matt said at Frank’s knee. “Looks like the bullet went through your shoulder and straight into his heart.”

  “Who?”

  “Best guess? That guy.” Dave pointed to where an undercover cop was moving gawkers away from yet another body on the ground, a gun clutched in the dead man’s hand.

  “Who’s he?” Sydney asked.

  Dave shook his head. “Don’t know, but looks like his job was to take out Geist, then someone shot him once in the head.”

  “Dimitri,” Frank said.

  “Could be,” Dave answered. “Jake and one of the cops managed to flank him and take him down before he could escape.”

  “What about Congressman Blanton?” Sydney asked, looking towards the park bench where the first two victims had fallen.

  Dave shook his head. “Dead. So is the older man who’d tried to get the bag, which, by the way, is gone.”

  “Ian has it. I saw him take it and run behind the concession stand as the chaos was going on.” She stared at Frank. “Everyone was so focused on finding the shooters and in all the noise, no one could hear me. That’s why I ran out from behind you and the tree.”

  “I know,” Frank said. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. If I hadn’t tried to stop him, you wouldn’t be hurt.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, then groaned as he shifted his position.

  Sydney tried to move away to give him room, but he grabbed her hand on his shoulder.

  “Stay.”

  “You’re sure? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

  “I’m okay. How’s your head?”

  “Okay. I saw stars for a minute after I hit the ground.”

  The sound of sirens filled the air. More police and ambulance crews filled the area. A team worked on Frank, then loaded him onto a stretcher to put him in the ambulance. He stopped them.

  “She comes with us,” he said, pointing to Sydney, who was standing off to one side.

  “Sir, we don’t take family—” the EMT started to tell him.

  He took out his Deputy Marshal badge and his I’m-in-charge-voice. “She’s a witness and has a possible concussion. She rides with me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  How many freaking times could they ask her to tell them how many fingers they were holding up?

  Three hours after arriving at the emergency room, Sydney had had enough. She’d refused to let anyone look at her until she knew that Frank would be all right. He’d need surgery on both his shoulder and leg, but other than blood loss, the doctors were confident he’d make a quick recovery.

  Relief at the news had poured through her, easing her guilt just marginally. She’d waited until they’d prepped him for surgery and taken him from the ER before letting the nurses admit her to her own cubicle.

  That’s when all the questions really started. Did she hit her head? Did she lose consciousness? Did she vomit? Was she nauseated? Was she dizzy? How many fingers were they holding up?

  Then they had her stand still in one position. Walk across the room. Stare at the light in her eyes, first one then the other. Follow the finger up, down, side to side without moving her head.

  All she’d wanted to do was ask about Frank.

  They’d assured her they’d keep her posted, but she should rest for a bit.

  An hour later the doctor returned and repeated the entire process. Still no word on Frank. Told to rest again.

  Dave, Matt, and Jake had all come in to check on her. They had questions about her brother. What was he wearing? Did he definitely have the backpack of money with him? Which direction had he been heading when she last saw him?

  She’d been able to answer his description easily enough, given her job was to notice details. But when she asked if they knew anything about Frank, they were in the dark just like her.

  Then another hour passed and the doctor was back, asking her the same questions.

  She answered them all—she couldn’t help it if the answers were coming out with a touch or two of sarcasm.

  He chuckled. “I know it’s a bit frustrating and redundant, Ms. Peele. However, we’ve learned so much about head injuries lately, what with all the focus on sports players and concussion syndrome, our guidelines state we have to observe you for at least two hours and note any changes.”

  Instantly, guilt washed over her. “I know you’re just doing your job, doctor. I just know I�
��m okay and I’m more worried about Frank. Have you heard any news on him?”

  “HIPPA laws prevent me from giving you any personal information about Mr. Castello or his condition,” the young doctor said, putting his little flashlight back in his lab coat pocket. Then he gave her one of those gentle, learned-it-in-medical-school, patented smiles. “But I did check with the surgery department before coming in to see you. He’s out of surgery and in recovery.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “They said he’d probably be in his room in thirty minutes.” The doctor wrote on the clipboard in front of him. “That’s about how long it will take for the nurses down here to go over your discharge instructions.”

  She grinned at him. “Thanks so much.”

  He tilted his head to one side and fixed her with a very serious stare. “I’m discharging you, but I want you to promise me you’ll listen carefully to the instructions and come back to see us immediately if any of the symptoms start to occur.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  * * * * *

  In the end, the nurses moved much quicker than the doctor predicted. She’d forced herself to listen carefully to what the woman in the green scrubs was saying, but her mind kept wandering to Frank. Once she was dressed and had signed all the papers, she’d gotten the room number where Frank would be transferred to and headed up that way.

  As she got off the elevator, she saw a crowd standing in the hallway. It was the entire Edgars clan, minus Abby and Luke who were still on their honeymoon. They truly were Frank’s family. Even the elder Edgars, Mary and Ben, were anxiously awaiting his arrival to the room.

  “When we talked, he was already on notice about his job before all this,” Jake Carlisle was saying to the other family members as she neared.

  The words hit her hard. She stopped and stepped to the side to listen.

  “His boss told him no more off-the-books cases, or he’d have to fire him.”

  “Getting shot again in the same leg isn’t going to sit well with him, then,” Ben Edgars said.

  “Yeah, and the media attention around the congressman’s exploits and death, not to mention Annabeth Kelly’s death, could be the nail in Castello’s career coffin,” Dave said. “I doubt it could take any more scandal.”

  Scandal. Like her brother being a wanted criminal for his extortion scheme?

  Sydney turned and edged back into the hallway, intending to leave the family alone. Hadn’t she caused them, and Frank, enough trouble?

  “Sydney,” Sami’s voice called from behind her.

  Sydney stopped in her tracks and straightened her spine as she turned back to the group. “I thought maybe they were only letting his family see him. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Nonsense,” Mary Edgars said. “You’re very welcome.”

  “Trust me,” Katie said, coming to link her arm through hers and draw her into the group. “You’re probably the only one of us he’ll want to see. By the way, the nurses said he woke as grumpy as a bear, but he’s on his way up right now.”

  Before she could ask any questions, a loud ding sounded on the far end of the unit, and the elevator doors opened. An orderly dressed in green scrubs pushed a stretcher out into the hallway. He was immediately met by two nurses. The trio transported the stretcher to the room, the Edgars clan making room for them to pass by.

  “Sydney.” The gruff command sounded from the bed.

  The staff stopped halfway through the door.

  “I’m right here,” she said, stepping forward.

  He held out his hand, and she took it.

  “If you can give us about five minutes, we’ll get him settled, then you can come in to see him,” a middle-aged, very efficient-looking nurse said.

  “Of course.” Sydney squeezed his hand, then stepped back.

  Frank made a face and she had to admit, he did look like a grumpy bear just before the door closed in front of her.

  “He’ll be fine,” Sami said, pulling her back slightly. “The nurses have to check him out from head to toe when they receive him from another unit. It’s easier to do without family in the way.”

  Sydney let her steer her into the group.

  The room door opened, and the stretcher and the orderly came through. She started that way, but Katie stopped her.

  “They’re not done just yet.”

  Standing with the others, it occurred to her that Dave’s wife was missing. Had something happened to her? Had Kormensky found them? “Is Judy okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Sami said with a little chuckle. “When we got the all-clear and heard about you and Frank going to the hospital, we drew straws and she got the short one. She’s at home with all the kids.”

  “That’s a bad thing?” she asked.

  “After the two-hour drive up here with all of them in one mini-van, let’s just say that waiting in the hospital is way more peaceful than dealing with all those hooligans.”

  “Don’t call my grandchildren hooligans,” Mary said, playfully.

  “Remember when you used to drive with all four of us in a car out to the farm, Mom?”

  Mary Edgars made a face. “Oh, yeah. It is sort of hooligan-inducing. We’ll have to give Judy a gift for taking one for the team. A spa day?”

  “Now you’re making me wish I’d volunteered,” Sami said, and all four women laughed.

  “How are you feeling?” Katie asked, looking at Sydney with an assessing eye.

  She’d forgotten that Judy, Sami, and Katie were all nurses. “I’m fine. Tired of looking at fingers.”

  The others laughed.

  “Well, if you start feeling weird or dizzy, or anything unusual, you let one of us know,” Katie said.

  “I will.” It felt weird to have so many people worrying about her.

  The room door opened again. One of the nurses left the room. The other one motioned for them to come in. “He’s got some pain medication on board, and will probably want to sleep in a little bit.”

  “So don’t stay too long?” Ben Edgars said.

  The nurse smiled at the patriarch of the family. “Not too long.”

  As they crowded in, Sydney hung back slightly at the foot of the bed.

  Frank was propped up in the bed, an IV in his left hand, a bandage on his right shoulder and what looked like a bag of ice wrapped around it, making him look like a quarterback after a big game. His left leg was elevated on some pillows, the leg uncovered so his bandage just below the knee was visible.

  He stared at her as the Edgars all gathered round, talking. She didn’t really hear what was said. All she could do was stare into his big, dark eyes and thank God he was alive.

  Once the others had gotten to see for themselves he was okay, they filtered out, promising to visit him tomorrow. That left her alone at the foot of the bed.

  “Come here, Sydney,” he said holding out his hand to her.

  She rounded the bed, pulling the chair up to the bedside, and slipping her fingers into his warm hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t be sorry?”

  “Don’t apologize. You were doing what you believed you could to help. I get that. You had no idea that Dimitri had sent a hit man after his hit man.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Are you okay? Did the docs check you out downstairs?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “You hit your head pretty hard, and then had two big men land on top of you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t be sorry?” he asked, with a lift to the side of his mouth, finding amusement that she’d played his word back on him.

  “Don’t apologize. You were trying to protect me. It wasn’t your fault Dimitri’s hit man decided to shoot through you to get to Geist.”

  They stayed like that a few minutes, quietly holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Did they discharge you?” he finally asked, to break the comfortable silence.

  �
�Yes.”

  “Good.” He let go of her hand and pointed to the bag of his clothes on the bedside table. “Can you hand me my pants?”

  She pulled them out of the bag and handed them over.

  He struggled to feel around them with one hand, but finally fished out his keys. “You stay at the Victorian,” he said, holding up the corresponding key.

  “I can’t.”

  “Please?” he said. “I’ll rest better if I know you’re safe there tonight.”

  Dang it, he knew she’d give in if it would help him rest.

  “Okay,” she said, taking the keys. “Just tonight. I’m going to have to find a place to stay soon.”

  He yawned, his eyes drifting closed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  She sat, watching him breathe. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back. Such a big, tough, overly-protective man. Laid low in the hospital because of her and her brother.

  Clutching the keys, she stood and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Frank.” And as soon as she said the words, she knew it was true and also utterly impossible.

  The room door opened, and in strode the nurse.

  “He’s asleep,” Sydney told her.

  “I’m surprised he stayed awake this long. I imagine he’ll be out for hours, now.”

  Sydney smiled at her and left the room, only to find Katie and Matt sitting in chairs outside the door.

  “You didn’t have to wait,” she said, but kind of glad they had.

  “Actually, we did,” Matt said, as they stood. “The big guy made us promise to stay with you tonight.”

  How had she missed this conversation? They certainly must’ve talked about it when they were all in the room.

  “He wants me to stay at his place,” she said, holding up his keys. She noticed her overnight bag and camera bag at their feet. “You got my things.”

  He handed her the camera bag, keeping the bulkier overnight bag in his hand. “Dave and I drove his car back to the Victorian once things cleared up and before we came up to the hospital. Wasn’t sure if you were going to be kept overnight.”