Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2

by Susan Sleeman

  Where were Boone and Sydney? Laura wondered. Was Aunt Joy all right?

  In the far distance, a siren wailed. Inside, she shriveled. This was all because of her. Please, Lord, protect all of these people. Don’t let them be hurt because of Vin.

  Another volley of gunfire erupted. Griffin shoved her even farther under him, then rose on one elbow and fired toward the roof. He shot again. A bullet flew past, grazing the concrete close to Laura’s head. Very close.

  An abrupt silence descended. She didn’t dare breathe.

  Griffin stayed still, his head turned in the direction of the gunshots. Laura could feel the tension in his body, the leashed power straining to erupt.

  After a few seconds of quiet, there was a sudden onslaught of voices mixed with screams as people left the businesses in the area and came out to see what had happened. Only then did Griffin look down at her.

  His mouth was tight, white around the edges. There was both concern and rage in his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” His weight was heavy, but she didn’t care. “Are you?”

  She heard murmurs and cries of alarm. Over them came Boone’s voice. “Anybody hurt?”

  “Laura’s okay,” Griffin said.

  The words were labored, as if he was short of breath, probably because he’d hit the ground so hard. She’d had the wind knocked out of her when he had pushed her out of harm’s way.

  “The shots came from the roof.” Sydney sounded as if she was several yards away. “We’re headed up there.”

  People ran past. From the corner of her eye, Laura could see feet, a small crowd gathering. Now that her heart rate was slowing down, she became aware of the cold. Sharp frigid air swirled around them, but the sun still shone.

  A few seconds later, Boone yelled, “Side clear!”

  From her position on the ground, she could see people milling about the parking lot, hear sirens getting closer.

  A moment later, Boone hollered from up high, “Shooter down.”

  “Sniper’s dead, Devaney!” Sydney called out.

  “Good.” Laura tried to get a full breath. Reaction set in and she began to tremble. Thank goodness Griffin had been with her.

  He eased up on one elbow to look at her, his windblown hair falling over his forehead. Sweat dotted his upper lip. His skin looked waxy. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. Are you?” She held on for dear life, clutching him around the middle as if she were the only thing supporting him.

  She loosened her grip and dragged her hands over his shoulders, patting and squeezing to make sure he was in one piece.

  Without any warning, he slumped down on top of her, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  “Griffin?” Her voice sounded loud in her ears. “Griffin?”

  Something warm and sticky coated her right palm and her heart skipped as she lifted her hand to see. It was blood. Griffin’s blood.

  “You’ve been shot!”

  *

  Minutes later it was a mass of chaos. People yelling and screaming, cars from the bordering streets stopping to gawk, other drivers honking angrily at them. Laura could smell the bite of gun smoke in the air, still feel the wetness of Griffin’s blood on her hand even though she had cleaned it off.

  A police car at each entrance blocked access to the parking lot. An ambulance honked its way through the standing traffic and into the lot, the flashing lights a beacon to additional police who were arriving. Two paramedics elbowed their way through the gathering crowd.

  Laura was on her knees beside Griffin, applying pressure to the wound.

  He put a hand on her leg. “Is anyone else hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Ma’am, can you let us in?”

  She rose and let the younger, stockier of the two men have her spot.

  “What happened?” the same man asked. His name tag read Adams.

  “He was shot. In the shoulder or back—I can’t tell.”

  Adams and the other medic, Durant, backboarded Griffin in order to stabilize him.

  Adams unpacked a bag of saline and inserted a needle into the patient’s arm. “Has he been conscious?”

  “Yes, and woozy,” she answered. The cold she felt in her blood now had nothing to do with the arctic temperature.

  The tall lanky Durant nodded to his partner. “Let’s get him on the stretcher.”

  Laura wrapped her arms around her middle. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

  “We’ll do the best we can, ma’am,” Adams answered, his dark eyes kind.

  The EMTs transferred him onto the stretcher, then lifted him into the back of the ambulance. Durant climbed in first with Adams pushing their patient in the rest of the way. Durant moved into the front to drive.

  Adams glanced back at Laura. “Are you his wife?”

  “No, we’re just—”

  “You can meet us at Baptist Hospital.”

  “Please let me go with you!”

  “Are you his fiancée?” Before she could answer, Adams motioned her inside. “You can ride in the back if you want.”

  She started to get into the ambulance and was stopped by a hand on her arm. She looked over her shoulder to see Sydney.

  “The cops need to talk to you,” the brunette agent said.

  “Can they do it at the hospital? He has to go and I really want to go with him.”

  Sydney looked at Adams. “Is he critical?”

  “His vitals are okay, but we don’t know the severity of the gunshot. The doctors need to examine him.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She turned to Laura. “Go. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’ll see you at Baptist.”

  Laura climbed into the back of the ambulance and pressed against the wall, staying out of the medic’s way.

  “Do you know his blood type?” Adams asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t.”

  “It’s O neg,” Griffin said in a scratchy voice.

  He was talking, still conscious. That had to be a good sign. The relief Laura felt made her sag against the wall.

  The siren screamed and the vehicle rocked onto Northwest Expressway, speeding down the road until it reached the ambulance entrance on the northwest side of the hospital. She stayed out of the way as the EMTs lifted Griffin’s gurney out of the ambulance and rolled him into the ER.

  “GSW,” Durant yelled as they entered the building.

  A male and female nurse and a female doctor came running.

  “He’s stable,” Adams reported.

  “O negative,” Durant added.

  The doctor gave a sharp nod. “Let’s get him to X-ray, see what we’re dealing with.”

  The male nurse stopped in front of Laura. “Are you family?”

  “I’m with him.”

  “Wait here and one of us will be back out to tell you what’s going on.”

  “Thank you.” Teeth chattering, suddenly aware of how violently she was shaking, Laura made her way to one of the chairs along the wall and sat down. Nerves had her getting right back up.

  Her mind was a tangle of questions and desperation. Vin had sent the sniper. She didn’t know anyone else who would have. Maybe this incident would connect him to the other murder attempts. Could a link be traced now that the sniper was dead? Was Griffin going to be all right? How much blood had he lost? He’d been conscious. That was encouraging.

  Tears blurred her vision and she walked over toward the far wall, away from the other people in the waiting area. The heating unit hummed quietly as she stared out the windows frosted from the cold.

  He could’ve been killed.

  This was the second attempt on his life. She needed to start her new life—fast. Once she went back into the program, Griffin would no longer be a target. Neither would anyone else.

  *

  Laura was safe. She hadn’t been shot or hurt by the sniper. That was all Griffin cared about.

  She stood beside his
hospital bed. The streaks of dirt and gravel on her black wool coat were from Griffin pushing her to the concrete and out of harm’s way. She had tucked her long hair behind her ear and he searched her face and neck for bruises. There were none. She had no cuts, wasn’t bleeding anywhere. She was a welcome sight with her flawless rose-and-cream skin.

  “I’m okay,” she said as he checked her over. “You’re the one who was shot.”

  “I wanted to see for myself that you weren’t hurt.”

  “I’m not, thanks to you. I don’t know if the sniper was after me or you, but if it was me, thank you for saving my life again.”

  “Since he missed me on the bike, he must’ve given up on the drive-bys.”

  “Please don’t make light of it.” She had a pained expression on her face. In the fluorescent light, her eyes were very blue. And concerned.

  “Sorry. I really am all right.”

  “Are you up to talking to the cops?”

  He nodded, increasingly aware of the searing pain in his left shoulder. Laura walked to the doorway and motioned someone inside. She hurried to the corner and picked up the remote to mute the television.

  A balding chubby man wearing a rumpled black trench coat was the first inside with a dog-eared notebook. Griffin could easily imagine the man chomping on a cigar.

  He looked to be about sixty with sharp dark eyes. His gaze took in Griffin’s bandage, visible beneath the thin gown provided by the hospital. “I’m Detective Starnes.”

  A second man came in. This one was a tall rawboned younger man with red hair and a nicely tailored suit. He introduced himself as Detective Chapman.

  He walked up the side of the bed to shake Griffin’s hand. “May we ask you some questions?”

  “Sure.”

  “We’ve already interviewed Miss Parker.” Chapman smiled over at her, dropping his voice. “And Marshal Yates.”

  Griffin’s gaze shot to Laura and she nodded. So Floyd had told them about Laura being a protected witness. The marshal probably hadn’t had much choice with an investigation going on and it was best that the information had come from him.

  “The shooter was dead at the scene,” the detective continued. “Did you get a look at him?”

  “No. He was on the roof. My colleagues, Boone Winslow and Sydney Tate, should be able to identify him as the shooter. They found his body.”

  “Yes, we spoke to them,” Starnes said. “We asked Miss Parker if she had any enemies and she named Vin Arrico. We’re familiar with the family.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Griffin muttered. Probably starting with Vin’s father, Donnie.

  Chapman rubbed the side of his nose, looking at Laura with unabashed admiration. “I remember your testimony at his trial.”

  A funny sensation shot through Griffin and he hoped the man’s obvious appreciation was for Laura’s courage, not her beauty.

  The detective brought his attention back to Griffin. “We understand Arrico has been harassing Miss Parker since her first night back.”

  “Harassing is not a strong enough word. He’s been trying to kill her.”

  “He has someone on the outside helping him,” Starnes put in. “Any idea who?”

  “Nobody I’ve been able to pin down yet.” Which frustrated him no end. With what he had so far on Hughes, Inhofe and Thompson, the cops wouldn’t be able to pull any of them in for questioning. If he could tie any of them to the shooting today, that would change.

  Chapman flipped through a small notebook that was filled with neat handwriting before asking Laura, “Your final injection is tomorrow?”

  “It will be if the marshal agrees, then the donation of my stem cells.”

  He turned to Griffin. “I guess your colleagues are handling her protection tonight if you aren’t able to.”

  “That’s right.” Griffin shifted against the burn of agony in his shoulder. In the background, The Andy Griffith Show played on television.

  The policemen asked several more questions and made sure they had the correct contact information for Griffin.

  He gestured to the chair where his belongings had been laid out. “I have a card.”

  Laura moved around Starnes, picked up Griffin’s sheepskin jacket and brought it to him. He reached in the side pocket and pulled out a business card. “If you have more questions, you can call or come by the office. All of my phone numbers are on there and so is Enigma’s address.”

  “Thanks.” The older detective pocketed the card in his wrinkled black trench coat.

  Chapman smiled. “I think we have what we need for now, Mr. Devaney. We’ll be in touch if we have other questions.”

  He nodded. If they had questions after tomorrow, Laura wouldn’t be here.

  The two men had barely walked out when a roly-poly nurse hustled in to check Griffin’s bandage. She wagged a finger at him. “Not too many visitors, young man.”

  “That was police business, Daisy.” He’d seen her name tag as he’d been wheeled in.

  “Mmm-hmm.” The black woman with an angel’s face pursed her lips. “There’s a United States marshal wanting to come in, but after that you need to rest. If your wound looks good when the doctor returns, you’ll be discharged tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  Laura smiled. “Aunt Joy will want to visit you before then.”

  “You may have to run interference for me.” Seeing her smile, he realized it was the first time since he’d arrived at the hospital that her face hadn’t been pinched with worry and fear.

  Yates peered into the room, cowboy hat in hand. Griffin motioned the man inside, but Floyd looked to Daisy before he entered.

  “Yes, yes, c’mon,” she said, waving him in.

  The marshal stepped into the room. “You don’t look too bad.”

  Daisy stopped at the foot of the bed on her way out. “Three minutes, Mr. Marshal.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you,” she pointed to Griffin. “I’m going to want this bed for someone who needs it.”

  He grinned and looked over to see a faint smile on Laura’s face.

  As the nurse left, Yates chuckled. “I can’t see anybody disobeying her.”

  His gaze shifted to Griffin’s shoulder. “How much damage?”

  “None to my tissue or muscle. I was lucky. It could’ve been much worse.”

  “We need to talk about transporting Laura.”

  “I can’t leave today!” she exclaimed.

  The marshal frowned. “Seems to me this might be the perfect time. This place is crawling with cops. We should use the protection while we have it.”

  “We never made it into the clinic. I haven’t even had my final injection.”

  “You haven’t donated your stem cells?”

  “No.”

  “How will that affect your father’s transplant?”

  “It shouldn’t. His doctor said it didn’t have to be performed the same day I donate. He has twenty-four to forty-eight hours to get my stem cells.”

  Yates fingered his cowboy hat. “Can you do it right now?”

  “Not here.”

  At the man’s frown, Griffin said, “It takes a special machine.”

  “And that’s at the clinic,” Laura added. “I might be able to get them to see me today, but I’d really like to make sure Griffin does all right overnight. I don’t want to leave until I know he’s settled at home. He’s taken care of me all this time. I need to return the favor. Besides, it’s only one night.”

  “I don’t like it.” The man chewed the inside of his cheek. “The safest, smartest thing would be to get you out of here right now. You don’t know who Vin will send next.”

  “Please, Floyd. Just tonight. I didn’t come all this way to fail my dad.”

  “If it helps, my colleagues will be with her 24/7,” Griffin said. “Once we leave the hospital, we’ll go to my house. Arrico can’t get onto my property without the alarms sounding.”

  After a moment, Floyd nodded. “The
director trusted you enough to vouch for you and your ability to protect Laura. I guess that hasn’t changed.”

  “Thank you, Floyd.” Laura came over to hug the man.

  His hazel eyes found Griffin over the top of Laura’s head.

  “You call me in the morning and we’ll work out our timetable.”

  Floyd shook Griffin’s hand, then said goodbye.

  Laura moved to the side of the bed. “I’m going for more coffee. Do you want anything?”

  “No, but I would like to apologize.”

  Her eyes widened. “For what?”

  “That I can’t do more about stopping Arrico for good.”

  “You’ve done everything you can.” There was no mistaking the sincerity in her face. “It’s not your fault.”

  That wasn’t how it felt. It felt as if he were failing her just as he’d failed his team. “Still—”

  “No.” She smiled, sadness lurking in her eyes. “You’ve saved my life more than once. That’s worth more than anything else. You’ve made it possible for me to still help my dad.”

  She amazed him. He lifted her hand and brushed a quick kiss across her knuckles. “I wish you could stay.”

  “So do I.”

  He thought he saw a tear in her eye before she turned to pick up the half-empty coffee cup she’d used earlier.

  Her hair swirled around her shoulders like black silk. He knew it felt like silk, too. He wanted to touch it just once more.

  Suddenly the cup fell out of her hand. Brown liquid puddled and spread across the floor as she stood frozen.

  “Laura?” Griffin’s gaze followed hers to the TV. A picture of Arrico and two other men in orange jumpsuits appeared on the screen with a warning crawl across the bottom: “Three men escaped last night from the federal penitentiary in McAlester. Authorities are still searching for them.”

  Laura made a sound like a wounded animal. “Vin’s out. He’ll know to come to Oklahoma City. He may already be here!”

  She sounded as if she was on the verge of panic. Even in the fluorescent light of the hospital room, he could see how pale she had gone. Her body trembled.

  He sat up and held out his hand. “Come here.”

  She came toward him, fear on her face. He covered her hand with his. “We’ll take precautions. Make sure Boone and Sydney know.”