Brace For Impact (HQR Intrigue)

by Janice Kay Johnson - His Best Friend's Baby

  Without thinking, she bent to pick it up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  People screamed and ran, knocking each other over and confusing the scene. Unbelievable that these bastards were willing to gun down innocent passers-by. With the assailant using a suppressor, Will had barely heard the first shot. Not until a woman five feet beyond Maddy went down, blood blossoming on her pale blue suit jacket, did Will know shots were still being fired.

  That might have been Maddy, if she hadn’t unexpectedly ducked.

  Weapon extended, Will swung in a circle, almost straddling her, waiting for her to rise. Where was the shooter? Damn it, where? His gaze flicked from face to face. Men of all ages, several more women. Panhandler...with cold eyes and a handgun spitting bullets. Probably not alone, but one at a time.

  Will fired. Once, twice, three times. The gunman slammed back against the gray wall of the courthouse.

  “Will!” Maddy screamed.

  He spun. The bullet slammed into his chest, dead center. More shots hammered his torso. He reeled, stumbled back. Saw Maddy on her knees, gripping the marshal’s gun with both hands, which meant she’d ditched the sling. This shooter wore a black balaclava and leaned out of a taxi that had pulled up behind Ruzinski’s.

  Will kept pulling the trigger, but he was going down. Leaving Maddy—except she was firing, too, nothing on her face he’d ever seen. God, please don’t let her kill an innocent. Don’t let her die.

  His head hit the pavement and the lights went out.

  * * *

  ASTONISHINGLY, HER HANDS were steady. If there was any pain from her broken arm, she didn’t feel it. Maddy aimed low; this past week she’d done internet research that told her the kick would push the gun up. He was firing, too, but her focus narrowed to him in an instant of surreal clarity. When she pulled the trigger, the recoil was greater than she’d anticipated, but she’d hit him. He slumped, hanging out the car window. The gun he’d held fell.

  Something stung Maddy’s arm. Had she been shot? But who—

  There. The driver of that same taxi had opened his door and was firing over the roof. Afraid she’d miss and hit someone in a passing car or on the opposite sidewalk, she hesitated.

  Behind her at least two voices yelled, “Put the gun down! Put the gun down!”

  Guards? Would they shoot her? She flung herself flat, cheek pressed to the gritty concrete. A man crawled over her and, panicked, she started to scramble away.

  “Maddy, it’s me!”

  Ruzinski. Thank God he wasn’t dead, although blood darkened his raincoat and dripped onto her.

  She heard more gunshots but had no idea who was shooting now.

  Will. Oh, dear Lord, was he dead? Terrified, she knew he would have thrown himself over her if he wasn’t badly injured, at least.

  “Put the gun down!” a man yelled right above her. She saw the blue-uniform-clad legs. A police officer.

  Suddenly, her hands trembled viciously. Another hand closed over hers and gently removed the gun, laying it on the pavement. A foot in a shiny black shoe appeared in her limited vision and edged the weapon out of reach.

  She closed her eyes, gripped by shock. But... “Will,” she mumbled.

  Ruzinski rolled off her. He was swearing, a litany that seemed to punctuate the moment.

  Somewhere, a woman still screamed. Somebody else was sobbing. Sirens screamed, too.

  Maddy had to know. Cradling her injured arm, she awkwardly pushed herself to her knees. She must have skinned them, because they burned fiercely. She rose until she was kneeling and could turn in place.

  Will.

  There he was, a few feet away. Dead or only unconscious. She crawled to him. He lay on his back, his face slack.

  “Will,” she whimpered. “Will, open your eyes.”

  She wrenched open his raincoat but didn’t find any blood. A pulse throbbed in his neck and he was breathing.

  “Ma’am, out of the way,” a man said. Wearing a uniform, he crouched to assess Will’s condition. A paramedic, whose sharp eyes lifted to her. “You’re injured, too.”

  She shook her head. “I’m just scraped up.”

  “You have blood all over your raincoat.”

  Maddy looked down. “Oh. No, that’s from him.” She gestured. “He’s a US marshal.”

  The man yelled, “Higley, over here!”

  Within seconds he slid a brace around Will’s neck and he and a second paramedic, a woman, shifted Will onto a stretcher. Moving fast, they lifted him and started toward an aide car.

  “Wait!” Maddy tried to stand. “I need to—”

  “Ma’am, let me check you over.” Another uniformed woman with kind eyes reached for the buttons on Maddy’s raincoat.

  Two others worked over Ruzinski. Face creased with pain, he rolled his head toward her. “You okay?”

  “Yes. I think so.” Actually, she hurt a whole lot, but that was because her battered body had once again been assaulted.

  “Then get inside and do what you came to do. Put that scumbag away,” he said fiercely.

  The ambulance with Will inside pulled away from the curb. Maddy wanted desperately to run after it, but Ruzinski was right. This had all been about keeping her from testifying.

  The closest EMT helped her to her feet. “You’re in pain. You need to go to the hospital. Here. You can ride with—”

  “No.” She pulled away. “I’m a witness in a trial. I have to get inside. All I need is to clean up.”

  “I’m sure your testimony can be pushed back...”

  “Then we’d have this to do again.” She fully looked around for the first time. Ruzinski was now being loaded into another ambulance. A bloodstain marked where the woman had been shot and fallen. Other people sat, faces gray with shock as paramedics worked over them. Handbags, briefcases, coats, umbrellas and women’s scarves littered the sidewalk, abandoned where they’d fallen. Police cars and ambulances jammed the street, so many lights flashing Maddy’s eyes were dazzled. More cops than she’d ever seen at one time interviewed stunned people who were lucky enough to be uninjured.

  The Uber driver who’d delivered her and Will was one of those. Even as he talked, his head swung toward her and their gazes met. She wanted to say I’m sorry, we used you, but at least he was unhurt.

  Just once she looked at the body half hanging out of the taxi. The man she had killed.

  Then she asked the EMT beside her, “Will you help me?” She began hobbling toward the entrance.

  “Ma’am, you should—” He gave up and put a hand under her elbow to support her. Once she was inside, Maddy thanked him and groped in her pocket for the latest phone Will had given her.

  Before she had a chance to dial, a woman emerged from an elevator. Gaze intense, she hurried toward Maddy.

  * * *

  “WELL.” HEAD TILTED to one side, Cynthia Yates assessed Maddy. “That’s an improvement.”

  They were in a restroom on the same floor as the designated courtroom. On a first-name basis now, they’d been in here for half an hour, delayed because once Maddy gingerly removed the dirty, bloody raincoat, balled it up and shoved it into the trash, she realized a bullet had grazed her upper arm. That was what had stung.

  While Cynthia disappeared in search of a first-aid kit, Maddy managed one-handed to peel off ruined tights and the bloody, ripped blouse, then washed her scraped knees and hands. Then she washed the stage makeup from her face, leaving it stark.

  After returning with supplies, Cynthia applied copious antibiotic ointment to the ugly graze and then wrapped Maddy’s arm with gauze. More ointment on her raw palms, more gauze. Maddy winced as she donned a borrowed white blouse and tights. She let the DA brush her hair and apply light makeup.

  Supporting her broken arm with her opposite hand, Maddy grimaced. “I don’t know what happened to my sling.�
��

  “How about some more gauze?” the other woman suggested, brandishing the roll.

  “I’m starting to look like a mummy, but why not?”

  “Not a mummy, a zombie.”

  She would have laughed if the ache of fear hadn’t held her in such a tight grip. Why hadn’t somebody called to tell her about Will’s condition? Ruzinski...well, he might be in surgery, she realized.

  “I think this is as good as it’s going to get,” she said, studying herself in the mirror. Aside from her eyes, she looked fine. Good, really, now that the bruises were gone. Only her eyes betrayed the craziness inside her, the shock and fear and anger.

  Cynthia’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “Good timing. We’re ready for you.”

  Maddy closed her eyes, drew a few deep breaths and sought composure. So many people had sacrificed so she could do this. She wouldn’t let them down.

  The restroom door had just closed behind them when her phone rang. Maddy snatched it from her pocket and answered.

  “Will?”

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded as if it had been scraped over gravel, but was so welcome. “You okay?”

  Maddy blinked back tears. “Basically. What about you?”

  “The vest stopped a few bullets. I have a cracked sternum and cracked or broken ribs. Mostly, I knocked myself out when I went down. They won’t let me go yet.” He paused. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

  “Oh, Will.” She stopped in the hall and turned away from the prosecutor. “I made it here only because of you. This part, I know how to do.”

  “I guess you do.”

  Behind her, Cynthia said, “Maddy, we need to go.”

  “Kick butt, sweetheart,” Will said. “As soon as I can break out of here, I’ll come get you.”

  “Okay.” I love you. But she had no idea whether he’d want to hear those words.

  The hall had emptied while they were closeted in the restroom. The click of their heels seemed to echo.

  A guard opened the heavy wooden door for them to enter. People in the galley automatically turned to see who was coming in. Attorneys on both sides did the same.

  No, they weren’t all attorneys. The man she’d seen murder her client had turned, too, to see her stride in, his face frozen with shock.

  Surprise!

  * * *

  WILL GAVE SERIOUS thought to getting dressed and walking out. Not like anybody could stop him.

  Impatience eating at him, he waited, though. He’d had an MRI and wanted to hear what, if anything, they’d seen. Brain damage wouldn’t help him get accepted to medical school. The last time he’d pushed the little button to summon a nurse, she patted his hand and said, “Just a few more minutes.”

  Damn, he’d wanted to see Maddy on the stand, staring that son of a bitch in the eye.

  There wasn’t any way someone could have smuggled a gun to the defendant, was there?

  No. Besides, after the scene outside, the bailiff and every armed officer in the courtroom would be hyperalert.

  He had to quit worrying...but where in hell was the doctor?

  * * *

  THE COURTROOM LOOKED different from this perspective. Get used to it, Maddy told herself. After all, there was another trial to come.

  Any other time, she might have been nervous, but anger was her predominant emotion. A few weeks ago, seeing Kevin Mooney’s face might have rattled her. What she saw him do was terrible beyond any other experience in her life. But hey, now she’d experienced plenty of other violence. All, of course, because of what she saw that day.

  Defensive counsel, a man Maddy didn’t know, objected to the sling she wore. “If she’s attempting to draw sympathy...”

  A gleam of delight lit in Cynthia’s eyes. “Your honor, we’re certainly prepared to explain how Ms. Kane came to be injured.”

  The judge tipped her head to study the attorney. “You’ll have your chance to ask questions. I’ll allow it if you choose to pursue that line of inquiry.”

  Cynthia calmly led Maddy through the day she’d witnessed a murder. The second best moment came when Cynthia asked, “Do you see that man in the courtroom today?”

  “Yes.” Maddy pointed. “Right there.”

  The best moment? When she was asked if the gunman had spoken. Maddy said firmly, “Yes, he did. Ms. Bessey was begging. She wanted to know why he was going to kill her. His exact words were, ‘You’re a problem for Brian Torkelson.’” The courtroom was utterly silent during her pause. “Then he shot her.”

  The opposing counsel’s attempt to shake her went nowhere. Her previous courtroom experience gave her the confidence to take her time before answering questions, ensuring that she spoke clearly with no digressions that could weaken her testimony.

  Somehow it was no surprise that he didn’t raise the subject of her sling. He might not know about the bomb or the ambush in Bellevue that left an FBI agent badly injured. She’d prefer to think he didn’t. However, she’d seen a woman hustle into the courtroom to pass a note to him, likely informing him about what had taken place out front only an hour ago. He couldn’t risk letting the jury hear about it.

  The judge thanked her for her testimony and Maddy rose, surprised to find that her legs weren’t entirely steady. Unwilling to meet her eyes, the defendant stared down at papers on the table in front of him.

  Maddy walked out.

  * * *

  THE RELIEF ON Maddy’s face when she saw him loosened the knot in Will’s chest.

  He hadn’t been happy to spot her standing alone in the lobby. What were these people thinking? But as he strode toward her, a guard materialized to intercept him, backing off only when she said his name and rushed forward.

  He didn’t care where they were. He pulled her into his arms, his kiss fueled by all the tumult the day had set loose in his chest. He needed to know she really was all right. This was the only way he could reassure himself.

  He did hold on to enough awareness of his surroundings to know they had to get out of here before this could go any further. Also, he had to deliver one piece of irritating news.

  He gave their pulses time to slow before he said, “I’ve been asked to bring you to the police station. They need to interview you.”

  She gripped his hand. “You’ll stay with me?”

  “I’m going to guess they won’t let me sit in on the interview, but I’ll be waiting.”

  “Um...how did you get here?”

  Will grinned. “I went for variety and hired a taxi.”

  Maddy laughed. “Just think, what if the same Uber driver had come to pick you up?”

  “If I were him, I’d be taking the rest of the day off.”

  She made a face. “I’d suggest we do, except by the time we get home it’ll be evening.” Her expression changed. “That is... I guess I shouldn’t assume I can keep imposing on you—”

  Will scowled. “Of course you’re coming home with me.”

  Did his cabin feel like home to her? Man, he wanted to think so.

  Not the moment to have that talk, he reminded himself.

  Fortunately, the Seattle PD detective who interviewed Maddy knew the backstory and, after hearing her side of what happened upon their arrival at the courthouse, assured her there’d be no repercussions for shooting a man who’d clearly been trying to kill her.

  During the taxi ride back to Northgate, where Will had left his Jeep, Maddy told him the detective had congratulated her on her skill with a handgun. She smiled impishly. “I shook him up a little when I told him I’ve never fired one before.”

  Once they’d been dropped by his Jeep, parked in the transit lot at Northgate, Maddy insisted on driving.

  “I’m fine,” he said automatically. “Your arm is in a sling.”

  A steely look in her eyes, she held out her hand for
the keys. “If your Jeep had a manual transmission, that might be a problem. As it is, I can drive with one hand. You, though... Major narcotics? Head injury? MRI? You were unconscious, Will.”

  Feeling chagrined, he dropped the keys into her hand.

  Once on their way, she asked about Ruzinski and any other victims from this morning. “I saw that woman with blood all over her chest.”

  “She went straight into surgery and is still in critical condition. Two other bystanders are, too, not to mention the injured from the decoy team.” He hesitated. “Including your replacement. A bullet grazed her head, but she’ll be okay.”

  Maddy absorbed that. So many people, injured and dead, to keep her silent.

  “I saw Ruzinski in recovery before I left,” Will added, “and he asked about you. His wife and an adult son were there by then. The surgeon told us he expects a complete recovery.”

  “So nobody died.”

  “Two of the bad guys are dead, one also in critical condition.”

  Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Which one lived?”

  “The one I shot. He posed as a homeless wino.”

  “Oh. I saw him when we got out of the taxi.”

  “He’s the first one who started shooting. Goes without saying that the detectives and FBI agents who showed up at the hospital really want him to survive. One more nail in Torkelson’s coffin.”

  “This guy might not know who had hired them.”

  “Possible, but we can hope. Now, tell me how it went in court.”

  She did.

  “Too bad the guy didn’t ask you about the broken arm.”

  Maddy laughed again. “Cynthia was hopeful, but I think by then he’d heard about the shoot-out in front of the courthouse.”

  A phone rang. He immediately identified it as the one she had been carrying. Since she didn’t have a spare hand, Will answered.

  “Mr. Gannon?” It was Yates herself. She asked to speak to Maddy, and when he explained that she was driving with only one usable hand, she said, “I have good news. During a recess Mr. Mooney’s attorney approached us. He’s willing to accept a plea in exchange for us taking the death penalty off the table. He’ll go for a life sentence with a possibility of parole. In return, he’ll testify against Torkelson.”