One Final Breath

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  Or maybe, just maybe, she was the girl in this picture.

  A thud in the living room forced her attention away from the pictures. “Gabe?”

  No answer.

  Anissa grabbed the gun she kept in the drawer by her stove and eased into the living room.

  Blood. So much blood.

  “Gabe!”

  “Stay where you are.” Gabe gasped out the words.

  It took every bit of her training not to run to him. But the front door was open between them and she had no idea what was on the other side of it. She slid her phone from her pocket and called it in. “Officer requesting backup. One seventeen Blossom Street, Carrington. Officer down.”

  There was no way she was going to let him bleed to death while they waited for the cavalry to arrive. Anissa darted across the room until she was behind the door. She kicked it closed. Nothing happened. No shots rang out. There was a trail of blood from the door to where he lay on the floor. He must have dragged himself out of the direct line of sight. Anissa lay on her stomach and crawled to him.

  “Told you. Stay.” Gabe spit the words through gritted teeth.

  “When have I ever listened to you?”

  She rolled him from his side to his back. His shirt was soaked in blood. Above his heart. No. Not again.

  “What happened?”

  She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Gabe gasped out, “Knife.”

  Someone had been close enough to stab him? Right outside her door? She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it to the side. There it was. A puncture wound. Pouring blood.

  “Ouch.”

  “Stop whining.” Not that he was, but she needed to keep him fighting and he never passed up a chance to get into a verbal sparring match with her.

  She put her phone on speaker and continued talking to the dispatcher. “I need an ambulance. Now!”

  “ETA is two minutes.” The dispatcher’s voice was ridiculously calm. Didn’t that woman realize Gabe was bleeding out on the living room floor?

  She pulled his shirt back over the wound and pressed down.

  Gabe moaned a little. Blood oozed through her fingers. This wasn’t working.

  She looked around. She needed something . . . a silk scarf draped over the arm of a chair caught her eye. Yes! “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Not going anywhere without you.” Gabe’s words were slurred. Even though he had been stabbed, not shot, she didn’t want to make herself an easy target. She stayed low and scrambled to the chair, grabbed the scarf, then crawled back to him. She folded the scarf into a small square. “This is going to hurt.”

  “Thanks for the warn—ow!”

  She hated to hurt him. But even with her scant medical knowledge, she knew that the more blood that stayed on the inside, the better. This wasn’t the first time she wished her own skill set included more than the basic first aid and life-preserving measures she’d learned on the job.

  The scarf soaked through. Too fast.

  She grabbed a throw pillow and pulled off the cover and pressed the fabric to Gabe’s chest. “Stay with me, Gabe.”

  A sheen of sweat covered his face. She wanted to wipe it away, but she was afraid to stop applying pressure. Sweat he could survive. Blood loss? Not so much.

  “Lord, we’re in a mess here.” She didn’t mean to pray out loud, but once she started, she saw no reason to stop. “We need your help. We need the ambulance to arrive safely so we can get Gabe’s bleeding stopped. Either that, or we need you to stop the bleeding now. We know you can.”

  “Backup is on the scene. Ambulance is one minute out.”

  “One minute,” she whispered. Her arms shook from exertion as she pressed down on his chest.

  “Never saw him. I think it was a man. Or a tall woman. And it was fast. I’m not sure if he even saw me until he’d already swung the knife.”

  “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Nis?” Gabe lifted his head.

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  Gabe’s head sank back to the floor.

  “No. No! Gabe! Stay with me. Gabe!”

  A knock at the door interrupted her. “Investigator Bell? We have the perimeter secure. Can the ambulance—”

  “Get them in here now!” She continued to hold pressure as if every drop of blood she could keep inside strengthened his chances of survival.

  Which it probably did.

  “Investigator Bell?” The door eased open. “I’m Clark. We’ve met before. Can we come in?”

  “Yes,” she said, the word more of a sob than a statement.

  Clark rushed to her side. “Okay. I’ve got this, ma’am.”

  He was joined by a young woman. “I’m Dorothy. Not sure if you remember me or not.”

  She did. Clark and Dorothy were a great team. They’d been there when Adam and Sabrina were blown up. And Sabrina’s mom—

  “Anissa!” This voice was more familiar. “Gabe!” Ryan knelt beside her. How had he gotten here so quickly? “What happened?”

  “We have a stabbing to the upper chest,” Clark said.

  “Heart?” Ryan voiced the question she couldn’t.

  “No,” Clark said. “Too high. But lots of bleeding. May have damage to some important arteries.”

  He and Dorothy murmured about low blood pressure and shock. They kept it all professional, but Anissa sensed their urgency as they worked. And after they got Gabe on the stretcher, they ran to the ambulance. “Wait!” Anissa tried to follow them, but Ryan grabbed her arm. She spun around to face him. “Let go of me.” The words came out sharp and fast.

  Ryan loosened his hold but didn’t drop his hand completely. She could have easily wrenched away, but he got right in front of her and leaned forward, his face level with hers. “We can’t help him anymore, Anissa. You did everything you could for him. The EMTs can handle it from here, and Leigh’s at work. She’s waiting for him. She’ll keep us informed. The best thing we can do to help him now is to figure out what happened.” His words came slow. Steady. She’d heard Ryan use this voice before. Leigh called it his “calm the tiger” voice.

  And it worked. He was right.

  But why did it feel like her heart was racing away as the blaring sirens faded into the distance?

  “Sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

  Ryan gave her a look she didn’t understand. She couldn’t tell if he was exasperated or amused. “You don’t always have to be professional when it comes to the people you care about.”

  “I . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say that he was wrong. She cared about Gabe. More than she should.

  When had that happened?

  He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I have a good feeling about it.”

  She didn’t want to have this conversation now. Come to think of it, she didn’t want to have this conversation with Ryan ever.

  “But for now”—Ryan grimaced as he looked her over—“I’m going to need you to put on some gloves and go change clothes. I’m the investigator on call, so this whole bizarre situation is my problem. And everything you’re wearing is evidence.”

  Anissa didn’t think she would ever feel clean again. She stuffed her blood-stained clothes into an evidence bag and then grabbed a washcloth and attempted to scrub the blood—Gabe’s blood—from her arms, face, and hands.

  When she returned five minutes later, she found Ryan in her dining room staring at the pictures.

  Great.

  He looked up when she came in, one eyebrow raised. “You know I’m going to need an explanation for this.”

  So Leigh hadn’t told him. She’d have to be sure to thank her for that. “It’s a separate case.”

  “Not anymore.”

  If she’d been investigating this case, she would want to know too. You gather all the information possible and worry about the relevance later. “Do we need to talk about it now?”

  “La
ter.” Ryan tapped a pen on a legal pad. “I’d just like to know how Gabe got stabbed in your living room. And I think you should start from the beginning. As in, tell me everything you’ve done today.”

  She started with church, the phone call, the trip to the hospital, the nap, the second trip to the hospital, and the pizza order. “I thought the pizza was here. We were arguing about who was going to pay for it . . .”

  Wait a minute.

  “What is it?” Ryan looked up from his notes.

  “Where’s the pizza?”

  “What? You can’t be hungry.”

  She ignored the snide remark. “We ordered a pizza. We were in my car on the way home from the hospital and Gabe was still hungry even though he’d had a ginormous sub at the hospital. We were joking about it, but I went ahead and ordered a pizza. When the doorbell rang, we both assumed it was the delivery person. The timing was right. That’s why he answered the door. But there’s no pizza out there.”

  “They may have tried to deliver it after we got here. They would have been stopped at the perimeter.” Ryan grabbed his radio. “Any of you guys stop a pizza delivery?”

  No one had.

  “Let me see your phone.”

  She handed it over. He tapped the screen a few times, then held the phone to his ear. “Hi. This is Investigator Ryan Parker with the Carrington County Sheriff’s Office. Did you receive a pizza order to be delivered to 117 Blossom Street?” There was a pause. “Uh-huh. And when was that?” He listened again. “Was this a man or a woman?” Ryan made a note. “Okay. Thank you very much.”

  He handed the phone back to her. “Your pizza order was canceled.”

  “What? When?”

  “Immediately after you called it in. They say they got a call about a minute after you ordered. The person, a male, said that you had asked him to call and cancel it.”

  He stopped, but Anissa had a feeling there was more. “What else did they say?”

  Ryan tapped his pen on the notepad. “The caller told them that you’d been called to a murder investigation.”

  She sagged against the table. This had been premeditated? And someone was listening to her conversations? “What is going on?”

  No!

  How was this even possible? He’d lined it up just right. He’d been watching her for days. He knew exactly how to thrust the knife so it would pierce her neck. Cut the carotid.

  She would have bled out before the ambulance arrived. It was a perfect plan. He hadn’t even looked. When the door opened, he lunged.

  And stabbed that other cop in the chest. Probably wouldn’t even kill the guy.

  Why did this always happen?

  Anissa Bell was like a cat with nine lives. Although, by his count, she’d already used up four of them.

  Sooner or later, she’d run out. But for now, he had to get out of there.

  Not that anyone would suspect him.

  He’d covered his tracks well.

  9

  Ryan had insisted on giving Anissa a ride to the hospital, which was gallant of him considering that he’d taken her car as evidence and handed it over to Forensics. If there was anything weird going on, Dante would find it.

  Ryan eased to a stop in front of the emergency department entrance. “Go on in,” he said. “I’ll catch up.”

  Anissa didn’t argue. She hopped out, almost forgetting to close the door behind her before running inside. She didn’t have time to show her badge before the security guard waved her through. “Right this way, Investigator Bell. Leigh’s waiting on you.”

  She kept it to a slow jog as she approached the nurses station. Before she got there, Leigh stepped out of a room to her left.

  “Anissa.” Leigh wrapped her arms around her and Anissa didn’t even mind.

  “Did you see him?” Anissa asked.

  Leigh bit down on her lip. “I did. He was in shock from the blood loss. Low blood pressure. They took him straight to surgery. Dr. Price is the best. He’s the vascular surgeon who worked on me. I’m sure he’ll get the bleeding stopped and get him patched up.”

  “Okay.”

  “I was a little surprised you weren’t in the ambulance,” Leigh said.

  “You can blame your husband for that.” Anissa glared at Ryan as he approached.

  “I won’t apologize.” Ryan put an arm around Leigh. “It was safer. If the attacker had been watching, he could have tried to wreck the ambulance. And you were safer at the house surrounded by cops.”

  Anissa stepped away from Leigh and Ryan. “Me? Why are you so worried about my safety? I’m not the one squirting blood everywhere.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Ryan shook his head in disbelief. “Think about it.”

  What was he seeing that she wasn’t? Her car did have those flat tires last week. But there’d been no nails or slices.

  Of course, there was a big difference between someone letting air out of your tires and someone stabbing you when you open your door for a pizza.

  Although, when they—whoever they were—had messed with the tires, they could have also planted some kind of listening device. Which would have allowed them to know she’d ordered a pizza.

  But . . .

  “It’s a flimsy theory,” she said.

  “What theory is that?” Ryan gave her a grim smile. They did this a lot in their office. Bouncing ideas. Sharing theories. Poking holes in the ridiculous ones before a criminal defense attorney had the chance to.

  “You think I was the target.” Anissa laced the words with more skepticism than she had intended.

  “I do.” Ryan spoke with conviction. “Something weird is happening and I think it’s more likely that you were the target than Gabe. Until we figure out what’s going on, you’re going to need to be very careful. Starting with being unpredictable. No similar patterns, nothing routine.”

  “I already do that.”

  “Do it better.”

  “Fine.”

  “And for tonight”—Ryan looked around them—“I think you should stay here.”

  “Fine.”

  Leigh had stayed quiet during their exchange, but now she chimed in. “I’m shocked you agreed to that. I was going to offer our house. I know how much you hate being at the hospital.”

  “I’m not leaving until Gabe’s awake anyway, so I might as well stay here until Ryan decides it’s safe for me to go home.”

  “Excellent.” Ryan kissed Leigh on the temple. “Keep me informed.”

  “Where are you going?” Leigh asked. Anissa already knew the answer.

  “Back to Anissa’s house. Forensics isn’t done yet and we need to check for listening devices in her house.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  Ryan winked at Leigh. It had never been in question—they were perfect for each other. She fell for him and he fell for her and they made being a couple look easy.

  Ryan pulled his keys from his pocket. “He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. Be here for him when he wakes up. Then call me and give me an update.”

  “I will. And I want an update on my house. Anything you find.”

  He gave her the okay sign and walked down the hall.

  Leigh gave Anissa a wobbly grin. “I know Gabe will be okay. He’s in the best hands. But it will probably be another hour before he’s out of surgery. I could get you set up in the lounge if you want to wait. We have the best coffee.”

  An idea was forming and Anissa ran with it. “I think I’ll go up to the PICU and check on Brooke.” It would keep her mind off Gabe. Keep her from sitting alone in a waiting room. And she might get another chance to see Liz.

  “That’s a great idea.” Someone down the hall called Leigh’s name and she started moving toward them. “I’ll text you as soon as I hear anything. The OR nurses promised to keep me informed.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Leigh disappeared into a room, Anissa followed the signs to the elevators, then to the PICU waiting area. Paisley Wilson was there.

&nbs
p; With a laptop.

  Great.

  Paisley looked up, then jumped to her feet. “Investigator Bell. How are you?”

  “It’s Anissa. I’m—” She’d almost said she was there waiting on Gabe to get out of surgery, but she caught the words before they could escape. “I’m fine. I was here for another reason but thought I’d come up to check on Brooke.”

  Paisley gave her what might have been a smile but looked more like a grimace. “I know you don’t trust me not to use this information, but I’m assuming since you’re here that Investigator Chavez is still alive.”

  That was the problem with reporters. And this reporter in particular. You never could tell if they wanted to know something because they cared or if they wanted to use it in a story. Paisley might be the world’s greatest actress, but right now she looked like a lonely girl who needed someone to cut her some slack. “Off the record, I would say your assumptions are accurate.”

  Paisley closed her eyes and blew out a breath as she sat back down. “Thank you. I’m not going to ask you for any details, but I’m glad he survived. I get all the breaking news alerts, and the stabbing is news. But no one’s talking. I couldn’t tell if he’d made it or not, and honestly, I can’t take any more dying.”

  Anissa sat down across from her. “You and me both.” They sat in somewhat companionable silence for at least a minute. Paisley didn’t seem inclined to say anything further, so Anissa asked what she hoped was a safe question. “How’s Brooke?”

  Paisley ran her fingers along the edges of her laptop. “I didn’t realize she was in such a dark place or that she was considering such a drastic step, so I don’t guess I’m qualified to answer that question. I don’t know how to help her. One minute she’s sorry, begging me to forgive her, promising she won’t do it again. The next minute she’s sobbing about Jeremy and blaming herself for his death.”

  Anissa closed her eyes. Lord? Really? Does it have to be Paisley? Now? She knew the answer to her question. Fine.

  She opened her eyes and found Paisley staring at her. “Can I ask you a question? I promise I’m not changing the subject.”