He certainly wouldn’t be wrong.
She’d known the moment he’d come to her rescue that no more harm would come to her. She wasn’t sure if it was his muscular frame or penetrating dark eyes that gave her such an impression. He was well over six feet tall, with short black hair that was only slightly longer on top. A six o’clock shadow now framed his jawline. She’d somehow inherently known that he could keep her safe, but all she wanted now was for him to leave so that she could escape.
“Ms. Hudson?” The voice belonged to the second male she’d overhead talking right outside of her room. She was grateful for the interruption, and she focused on him rather than the man who almost certainly had been given an earful of her sordid past. “I’m Special Agent Dean Malone of the FBI, and this is Special Agent Lincoln Roche.”
Lily nodded a greeting, wishing she hadn’t when a dull ache began to form behind her eyes as a result. She had never really reacted well to pain medication. The headaches and nausea were almost worse than the agony of her stab wound, not to mention the palms of her hands and soles of her feet swelling.
“Did you arrest him?” Lily asked, forcing herself to focus on the two federal agents than the discomfort that seemed to be intensifying by the minute. It was an obtuse question, given that she’d just overheard them say that she was now in protective custody. “I mean, are you close?
“We’re doing our best to find the man who attacked you, Ms. Hudson.” Agent Malone stepped forward until he stood at the end of her bed. She was grateful that she no longer had to keep her neck turned at such an odd angle. “We do believe that your attacker is the unsub who we’ve been looking for these past seven months. Mr. Killian gave us the details from his point of view last night, but we’d like to get your statement as soon as possible. Anything that you can remember could make a huge difference in the manhunt that is currently underway.”
“I didn’t see his face,” Lily whispered, blinking rapidly when the memories of last night returned like a massive tidal wave of emotion. They threatened to pull her under. “I’d come into the house after taking the garbage out to the road. I know this sounds a bit crazy, but I noticed a chocolate chip cookie missing from the baking sheet.”
“A missing cookie? From the baking sheet?” Agent Malone repeated after having removed a small notepad from the interior pocket of his suit. “You didn’t notice anything unusual before that moment?”
Ridge shifted his stance, drawing all eyes to him. At first, she thought that maybe he didn’t like the insinuation that she’d missed all the signs pointing toward the fact that someone had broken into her home. It was then that she noticed his firearm.
Ridge Killian must be law enforcement.
He had to be, because she was well-acquainted with hospital regulations regarding weapons of any kind. They weren’t permitted unless one was carrying a firearm for their job. Her headache intensified upon the realization that he’d probably rather be anywhere else but by her side. She vaguely recalled him saying at some point that he was a good shot, but she couldn’t remember the specifics of how she’d come to know that detail.
Lily assumed that he worked with Agent Malone and Agent Roche, so she would give her statement as quickly as possible so that Ridge could leave and focus on the responsibilities of his job.
“Like I said, I noticed that a cookie was missing from the baking sheet. I’d pulled them from the oven not long before I went outside.” Lily’s throat was beyond dry, but she didn’t want to ask for anything in their presence. It was bad enough that she appeared weak with her injuries. She cleared her throat once more before continuing. “I live alone, as I’m sure you’re well aware of, so I grabbed a knife out of the butcher block. When I—”
“Here.”
The soft-spoken word caused Lily to break off her statement, but it was the cup of water with a straw sticking out of its lid that Ridge held out in front of her that brought tears to her eyes. The only reason she accepted the Styrofoam cup was so that no one noticed her emotional state, but the trembling in her hand wasn’t something that she could hide as she reached for it but couldn’t quite grasp it.
Anger and bitterness coiled inside of her chest.
He shouldn’t have noticed that she’d been in need of water in the first place.
He held the straw steady against her lips while she sipped the most refreshing cool water that she’d ever had in her life. Her chest tightened at the gentle manner in which he was treating her, and she truly wished that he would just leave the hospital.
“Thank you.” Lily pulled away and purposefully didn’t look in his direction. She waited to resume her statement as he set the disposable cup down on a small rolling table that was pushed toward the back wall. “I thought that if I could reach the closet in my foyer that I could grab my keys, but he blocked the exit. It was like he came out of nowhere. I knew that in order to survive, I somehow needed to get into the living room.”
Lily hated that she’d lost her breath from saying only a few sentences. She ran two miles a day on her treadmill. It shouldn’t have been so hard to get through this small conversation.
“I tried to go over the counter, but he grabbed me by the hair.” Lily didn’t need to look at the heart monitor to know that her pulse had spiked. She could feel it. “I reached back, trying to get him to let go. I grabbed his ski mask between my fingers.”
Lily licked her lips, wondering where the overwhelming fatigue had come from in a matter of minutes. She forced herself to continue, because all she wanted was for this conversation to be over and done with. This interview reminded her too much of when her husband had been arrested, and she desperately wanted to close her eyes and block out everything that had happened in the last sixteen hours or so.
“I must have brought the knife down when I turned.” Lily did her best to remember the details so that she wouldn’t have to go through this type of questioning again. “I know I stabbed him, maybe in the middle to upper thigh. It gave me enough time to climb over the counter that overlooks the living room. I was able to get to the patio doors, and then I ran through the woods. That’s everything. That’s it.”
“Did you see your attacker’s face?” Agent Malone asked, still scribbling in his notebook.
“No.”
“You’re doing great, Ms. Hudson,” Agent Roche said, speaking to her directly for the first time. She shifted on the bed to try and alleviate the mounting pain in her ribcage, but nothing she did seemed to help it. “Did the unsub say anything to you? Anything at all?”
Lily leaned her head back against the pillow as the nausea became overpowering. She refused to throw up in front of three strangers. She had to swallow numerous times to stem the waves of queasiness that was rolling over her like a steamroller.
“I can make it better.” Lily prayed that she could stave off the sickness until the end of the interview. “He called me Mother.”
Recalling those few words of utter insanity was the trigger that had her stomach heaving, but Ridge was right by her side with a small plastic-lined pail. The burning in her side mounted to the point that she saw white bursts of lights every time her abdomen muscles clenched, sending endless waves of nausea through her entire body. The dry heaves were the worst of it.
Lily could hear Ridge tell the other two agents that they’d gotten her statement and should let her rest and receive medical treatment. She honestly didn’t want to be subjected to either the interview by law enforcement or the care from the hospital employees.
All Lily wanted to do was to go home.
Everything was collapsing around him, crushing down on him from above.
How had things gotten so out of control?
Rage burned his chest as he stood on the sidelines, watching the life that he’d built crumble into pieces. All that was going to be left was dust if he didn’t come up with an approach to figure his way out of this.
Who else would have the courage to give the widows of Winter Heights the p
eace that they deserved? None of these so-called heroes were willing to make the sacrifices that were needed. They couldn’t do the hard work, make the hard calls, or give those poor souls absolution like he could.
He leaned forward in the driver’s seat of his car to tighten the pressure bandage that he’d made from an old towel that he’d had in the trunk of his car. The pain in his leg from where Lily Hudson had stabbed him wasn’t life-threatening, but the wound did present a major problem. He’d need sutures and a clean place to treat his wound. It wasn’t like the injury would go unnoticed by those who knew him. He had no choice but to come up with some type of plan that would enable him to finish the job that he started last night.
Lily Hudson needed to be given the peace that his mother had missed out on, and it was his responsibility to see that through. All the collateral damage that he’d been forced to do in the last twenty-four hours would be worth it if he was able to finish his mission.
“I will make it better, Mother.”
Chapter Five
Ridge walked out of Lily’s private hospital room, garnering a nod from a deputy who had been posted at her door. According to his nametag, he went by Deputy Chen.
“Agent Malone?” Ridge inquired, not wasting time.
Deputy Chen pointed down the hall toward the elevators. Ridge moved with a purpose and didn’t waste time as he walked soundlessly on the cold tiles to seek some answers. He’d first put on his jacket, which he’d done to conceal his firearm.
Sure enough, Malone and Roche were off to one side of the elevator banks. They were in deep conversation, which they broke off the moment they caught sight of Ridge emerging from the hallway. Something that Roche had mentioned earlier when they’d been standing outside of Lily’s hospital room had garnered Ridge’s attention.
“I was at the pub last night when I saw officers pulling to a stop in front of the entrance.” Ridge observed their expressions closely. “It wasn’t due to a bar fight.”
“No, it wasn’t. The unsub murdered one of the employees there,” Roche revealed grimly, meeting Ridge’s direct stare. “Let’s go grab a coffee in the cafeteria, and we’ll tell you what we can.”
Ridge didn’t feel comfortable leaving Lily’s bedside for too long. The nurse had given her another dose of pain medication, and she was currently oblivious to just about anything short of an earthquake. The nurse had been thoughtful and caring while tending to her patient, despite the information that he’d recently learned about Lily’s history with this particular facility. Lily seemed understandably uncomfortable with being a helpless subject in the same hospital where her husband had inadvertently killed an equally defenseless patient while under the influence.
“Five minutes,” Ridge allocated, garnering agreement from both federal agents.
He waited for the two of them to walk onto the elevator before doing the same. He pressed the button for the first floor, which also happened to be where the cafeteria was located toward the east side of the building.
Out of habit, Ridge had studied the hospital’s floorplan when he’d seen the framed layout outside of the elevator when he’d first arrived last night. He knew where all the entrances and exits were located, including all major areas and those that had access to the post-surgical unit where Lily’s room was located.
He’d also spent two hours in the waiting room last night before Agent Malone had somehow pulled some strings, allowing Ridge into Lily’s room for the duration of her stay. That certainly hadn’t been his plan, but he’d discovered that Lily had no family members in the area. He couldn’t bring himself to allow her to wake up all alone with nobody to provide support.
She was basically all alone, regardless that this was the town that she’d been born and raised in as a child.
Bottom line was that he couldn’t bring himself to break his word.
Ridge recalled overhearing two nurses talk about a heart surgeon by the name of Parker Hudson, Lily’s former husband. He apparently had a drinking problem, which inevitably led to him killing a patient during an emergency procedure. The patient happened to be from a pretty prominent family in the area. Afterward, they had all but accused Lily of allowing him to leave the house that fateful day.
Lily was innocent of any wrongdoing in Ridge’s opinion.
She hadn’t been the one holding the scalpel. He wasn’t a big fan of third parties attempting to shift blame for another person’s actions. Personal accountability was pretty far up on his list of ethical standards. The only one accountable for Dr. Hudson’s action was Parker Hudson himself.
Ridge hadn’t had much else to do throughout the night hours, so he’d pulled what information he could off the internet using his phone. One of the many articles that had been printed had posed the theory that Lily had been just as guilty as her husband. It had been a rather shoddy piece of journalism that posed a personal opinion as a fact rather than supposition. It even had gone on to say that she had some higher responsibility to go directly to the hospital board when she realized her husband’s habit had gotten out of control.
The position of the journalist had presumed that Lily had somehow known that her husband would perform surgery while under the influence. The article never provided any facts to support that assertion. It had been implied that Lily had been complicit due to her marriage to the surgeon. Ridge had memorized the journalist’s name, adding it to his list of unreputable sources. Individuals who used their position to persecute others unjustly were lower than whale shit in Ridge’s opinion.
The elevator had made two additional stops by the time the doors had slid open to reveal the first floor. He reached out and held the door open for two women, doing the same for Malone and Roche. Ridge followed after them, adjusting the lapel of his jacket.
“Grab a table,” Roche directed, motioning toward the beverage counter. “I’ll grab us three coffees.”
It was fairly obvious that a local reporter and her cameraman had been hanging around the lobby. They were eying the agents, anticipating an appropriate time to interrupt so that they could record a sound bite for this morning’s news.
This impromptu meeting wasn’t going to last long, and it was only a matter of time before this story went national after the cat was let out of the bag.
Not only was Lily’s past about to be dredged up all over again, but Ridge’s name and service record were about to be in the same spotlight. Both of them were about to have their lives made public for every wide-eyed social commentator to pick apart, and there wasn’t a damn thing either one of them could do to stop it.
Ridge took exception to others imposing their will on him.
There was always a way to take control of the narrative, though.
“Agent Malone, the deputy you have posted on Lily’s room—”
“He’s solid.” Malone removed his dress coat and folded it over the back of the chair before taking a seat at a table far away from where the news crew had staged themselves. “Call me Dean.”
Ridge had a gut feeling that the agent didn’t offer up to be referred to by his forename often. Upon placing a call to a couple of friends who owed Ridge a favor, he’d found that Dean Malone had a professional reputation. Former Marine, solid agent, and a decent man of principle who was by all accounts a straight shooter.
Ridge nodded acceptance, letting Dean know that he could do the same.
“I’ll let Linc explain the profile of the unsub.” Dean rubbed his bloodshot eyes from having been awake for what had to be close to forty-eight hours. “I read about your service record, Ridge. I realize that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself in any environment, but your name was printed in today’s paper. The unsub now knows that you were the one to rescue Ms. Hudson. That poses a problem for us.”
“Lily’s name was published, too,” Ridge pointed out, more concerned about her welfare than his own. He could take care of himself, as Dean had already noted. “I want to know what you will do if this sick bastard go
es into hiding to wait you out. How long can you keep a protective detail on Lily?”
Dean didn’t respond right away. He leaned back instead when he saw Linc heading their way with three coffees gathered in his hands. The man carefully set them down before distributing them, claiming his seat as he seemed to gauge the temperature at the table.
“I was just asking how long Lily will have protective custody.” Ridge had gathered quite a lot of information while keeping quiet and listening in on surrounding conversations. He preferred it that way, but he decided to break his rule to hasten this discussion, which he judged would be over before they finished their coffees. “Your unsub, as you call him, began killing widows in Winter Heights last year. June, to be precise. He’s fascinated with a journalist who runs a podcast and publishes a byline in a local newspaper. Her name is Quinn Simmons, and I presume that she was the one here at the hospital last night. This unsub went off the rails when he killed a woman at the pub last night, and now you feel that he’s gone into hiding…cowering like the coward he is. I only want the answer to one question. How long will you provide a protective detail to Lily Hudson if this scumbag manages to avoid your best efforts to apprehend him?”
The silence spoke volumes, and Ridge did his best to keep his temper in check.
These men were restricted by a few significant limitations, mainly the rules and regulations of their job. That wasn’t to leave out one final restriction—their budget. Ridge wasn’t hampered by the same constraints, and that made all the difference in the world. All he needed was enough information to do what he was best at—hunting human beings in the most hostile environments known to man. Once he identified his target, it was all over but the after-action report.
“You can’t answer. Understood.” Ridge purposefully took a drink of his coffee, already knowing that extricating the needed information wasn’t going to be easy. He’d have to take the proffered gift of the profile. “Dean mentioned that you worked up a profile of your unsub. What are the subject’s details?”
The Reclusive Widow (The Widow Taker Book 3) Page 5
