He glanced away. “It’s getting late. Mom, I’ll leave you and Stacey to look after Fiona while you wait. Cal and I need to get back to our investigation.”
Uncertainty shone in his mother’s eyes. A rare emotion for her. He knew she wasn’t willing to say much in front of Kindra. One didn’t annoy the bee when one was after honey. He had to hand it to his mom for behaving for once.
“I’ll let you know when we have results,” Kindra offered.
“Thanks,” York said. He gently touched Fiona’s cheek and then went back to work himself, more determined than ever.
Chapter Sixteen
York paced, finding comfort in the slap-squeak of his shoes on the floor. What was keeping Kindra? It had been four hours since he’d left for his workstation in her lab. He’d just checked on Fiona. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at Fiona resting on her mother’s lap. She didn’t seem to be doing well as she slept fitfully.
His gaze skipped to his mom. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
The door opened. Kindra paused at the threshold, a test kit gripped in one hand. The tight look on her face didn’t bode well.
“She tested positive,” he stated before she said a word.
“Yes,” she said sadly. Amanda and Stacey gasped. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand how. I’m going to do an additional set of tests.”
York clenched his jaw. “We need to take her to a cryo unit. Now.”
She swallowed, and he watched her delicately take blood from Fiona’s arm. “I don’t know if there are any units left.”
“There damn well better be,” he said more gruffly than he’d intended.
“I have to take the samples and compare them to the D Generation samples, then figure out the connection between the children and the virus.”
He nodded and tapped on his communicator, turning his back to her. Wild frustration zinged through him. Damn the timing. He contacted the cryogenics facility to let them know he was coming with a new patient. Someone would be there, he was assured; the place was staffed twenty-four seven.
Kindra startled him when she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Do they have a cryo-pod?”
“An old one, but at least it’s something.”
“Good.”
She was nothing like he’d expected the first day he’d walked into Seville. The woman beside him was warm and caring and affectionate, not the cold scientist he’d unfairly believed her to be.
She swept her hair from her eyes. “Are you going to take her now?”
“Yes.”
He turned to his mother and Stacey. “I’ll take Fiona to the cryo unit. I think moving quickly is most important. You can visit tomorrow if you’d like. I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Stacey’s eyes welled with tears as she leaned forward and kissed the child’s forehead. Then Amanda wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they left the room.
Kindra ran her fingers over her forehead. “I’m exhausted. But I’ll work a little longer and then I should go home and get some rest. We can begin fresh in the morning.”
“Okay.” He lifted Fiona, cradling her against his chest. “If you’d like to go with me to tuck Fiona in, I’d be glad to drop you by your place after that.”
A rush of air slipped through her lips. “No. But thank you.”
* * *
Kindra walked through the sterile halls of Seville, swiping tears from her eyes. Exhaustion and frustration finally took its toll. She’d been honest with York about being tired. For days now, she hadn’t eaten well, slept well, or done anything that wasn’t attributed to this case. And still, they couldn’t get ahead of this virus.
At the HERO computer, she categorized Fiona’s samples just like she had all the other victims. It took mere minutes, then she realized the only thing to do now was to wait. Again. She wanted to pull her hair out, she wanted to do anything more active than waiting for results.
And she wanted to be with York. He had become her comfort and strength and friend. She stopped her thoughts there, for she knew what she felt went beyond friendship, yet at the same time nothing more could be between them.
Leaving Seville Center, taking the air-tran, she decided to stop by the cryo center.
Kindra caught up with him as the cryo attendant finished preparing a unit for Fiona. “York, I hope you don’t mind, but I stopped by anyway.”
“No, of course not.” He gave her a hug.
Kindra barely held back tears as they tucked his niece into the ancient cryo pod. My goodness this whole ordeal made her emotional. That could be her little girl, sent to sleep while she waited for a cure. Kindra tried hard to keep herself removed from it all. She knew there was no room for feelings during an investigation. Her heart ached, nonetheless. He’d called his mother and cousin when the task had been accomplished. They stood among the rows of cryo-pods. She felt helpless and angry, and sad.
“We’re doing all that can be done,” he explained into the comm when his mother answered. “If Cal is still there, let me speak to him.”
The soft whir of the machines droned on as he waited.
Finally, he spoke, “What’s happening with Vi’s investigation?”
He listened, and as he did so, he angled his head to peer at her. She mouthed to him, Good question. The corner of his mouth pulled up to one side in a rugged show of acknowledgment. “Yes,” he said into the receiver, softening his voice as if trying to switch gears between a police lieutenant and a family member. “Stacey said Fiona didn’t have a doll.”
“Then what’s her connection?” Kindra said softly more to herself than to York.
York raised a brow but seemed engrossed in his own thoughts. “Right. We will want to examine the doll. Please bring it to Seville as soon as you can,” he said into the communicator. He ended the call as he waited for her to get into his air-car.
When he was settled behind the wheel, his grip tightened on the control stick. “Dammit. Who would be a sick enough bastard to do this to kids through toys?”
She couldn’t answer that. But being with him lessened the tension in body. She breathed deeply.
She was getting used to York’s driving. He drove fast, but with confidence and skill. And for some reason, she felt quite safe with him.
Her gaze slid sideways to observe his strong profile. His features were all angles and planes, and despite the rules, she longed to press her mouth to his chiseled jawline. When he’d kissed her earlier, she’d felt the prickly brush of his whiskers over her lips. Instead of being repulsed, she had been intrigued. A tingle sped through her body, and she wanted to experience it again. To savor the foreign feeling a little longer. To capture the sensation and internalize it.
The way he cared about the case, the children, touched her. He was a good man. She sighed.
Even with his obvious anger over the new vector of the deadly virus, his descent to the parking lot was controlled and perfect. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume it was under computer guidance instead of by the seat of his pants.
She waited until they were parked to say anything. “I take it Fiona had a doll?”
“No. But a friend does. Evidently, there has been a new ad campaign that recently revived their popularity.”
“Oh God… That’s just… There aren’t even words.” They got out of the vehicle and were almost to the elevator when she stopped abruptly as the information sank in. “You don’t think—”
“Of course the ad was intentional,” he cut in, finishing her thought. He halted when he realized she was a few steps behind him instead of at his side. He looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met and held, as each of them interpreted what this meant in terms of the investigation.
“I requested more cryo units be shipped here from nearby cities,” he told her.
She nodded. His eyes were so intense, so beautifully dark. She shook off the thought. It wasn’t important that his looks were even more ap
pealing to her than when she’d met him several days ago.
Without warning, hot, searing pain crashed through her from her back to her sternum. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Tears welled in her eyes at the pain, then her gaze widened as she realized something was drastically wrong. Then whatever had held her hostage released her, and she collapsed at York’s feet as blackness carried her away.
* * *
Fear shot from York’s stomach up to his throat. He spotted the greenish yellow beam of the laser, barely visible in the well-lit garage, just before Kindra collapsed. She’d been shot!
He drew his own laser, crouched over Kindra, trying to shield her body as he scanned the area. The shooter could be out there, hiding in the shadows. He called for backup but didn’t dare leave Kindra. She came above all else.
After waiting several long minutes, during which time all he heard was silence, he determined the shooter must have fled. He holstered his weapon and knelt beside Kindra, lifted her head, and put his cheek close to her face. Her breath fanned his skin. Something inside him loosened. Good, she was breathing. He checked her body for the wound. A trickle of blood oozed from a gash on her left biceps. Most of the wound had sealed due to the heat of the bolt of energy. He patted her cheek. “Kindra? Kindra, wake up!”
Blessedly, she moaned. He checked her body for additional injuries, and when he confirmed she didn’t have any exit wounds, he sat back on his heels. The shooter must have had the laser gun on low or set to stun.
She moaned again and lolled her head from side to side. “What happened?”
“Someone shot you. Either they didn’t mean to kill you, or they didn’t know how to use a laser with its multiple energy frequencies” He took another quick glance around to see if anyone was watching.
Nothing.
Seeming unable to comprehend what he’d said—understandable, given a gazillion watts had just zapped her—she attempted to push up to her elbows. He placed his hand behind her back and lifted. She quivered with the exertion as she tried to stand.
“I’m so weak,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.
He slid his arms around her waist, holding her up.
She tried to move. “Hurts.”
“Take slow, deep breaths.” She did as he instructed.
“Better?”
“Yes, I… I think s-so,” she stuttered. “Why would anyone…shoot me? I don’t understand.”
“Well, you’re working on a cure for the virus. Someone might want to stop you. Or someone could blame you for whatever it is about the D Generation that allows the children to be vulnerable to the virus. Or some crazy Coder activist wants to make a statement. It could be any number of reasons.”
He listed the scenarios, but his gut told him whoever had released the virus was now targeting Kindra. It made sense. After all, she had effectively stopped the deaths by getting the children into cryo units. Did the perpetrator think she was the only one who could come up with a cure? Or was there another reason? Was this connected to Vi’s murder?
“Let’s get you inside,” he said.
She attempted to take a step, but her legs gave out. The only thing supporting her was his arm. She tried again and failed. Finally, he gathered her up with his arm as he slipped his other arm beneath her knees. “It may be a little while until you regain your strength,” he said, taking brisk strides toward the parking lot elevator.
As he walked, he kept a trained eye out for anything unusual. As soon as he got a chance—after he saw to Kindra’s safety—he’d check with Captain Avery to see what the parking garage surveillance cameras might reveal. Surely something must have been captured by the cameras.
To his surprise, she didn’t argue. She melted into his cradled arms with a drawn-out sigh. Thankfully, they didn’t pass anyone on their way to her apartment.
He wasn’t sure if she was aware of their progress, but she hadn’t said a word since he’d picked her up. He used his police ID to enter her apartment. Inside, he set her on the sofa. He heard splashing noises from down the hall and thought it must be Brianna’s bath time.
She winced. “Ugh, my back hurts.”
“Where?”
“Between my shoulder blades.”
His brow furrowed. She’d been shot in the arm, not the back. He sat down beside her. “Lean forward and let me take a look.”
She moved so her elbows rested on her knees and her head hung forward. He gently scrunched up her shirt, revealing her pretty pecan brown skin. His chest tightened. Inch by inch, he approached the center of her back. There, the flesh turned bright pink, and when he lifted the fabric even higher, the wound changed to a darker shade of vibrant reddish purple. Small blisters formed in the middle. “There’s a two-inch welt. You’re going to be sore for a few days, I’m afraid. We should get you medical attention.”
“No. I’ll be fine. Better than being dead.”
He eased her shirt back down. “Don’t joke about that.” He thought of Vi and how she’d often joked about thwarting death. His chest hurt. He missed her.
They both sat back, angling toward each other. “Do you think someone is after me because of my job?”
“Yes. They’re out to stop you.”
She gasped. “But he didn’t kill me.”
“A warning, perhaps.”
“A strong warning.” She inhaled too sharply and winced again.
“And since it occurred in your parking lot, I’m worried,” he admitted. “Whoever did this could get to you again far too easily.” He searched her face. Vi had lost her life in her own home, and they had yet to discover why someone had killed her. He swallowed, nervous about how Kindra would react to what he was about to propose. “I want you and Brianna to leave for a few days and stay somewhere else.”
“But where?”
He shrugged. “Anywhere that isn’t your usual location. Somewhere I could watch over you. A hotel, the precinct’s safe house, my place.”
Her head snapped around and her eyes met his. The last idea seemed to shock her. He had to admit, he couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. At the same time, something primal about the idea appealed to him. “I doubt the shooter would know where I live or venture there.”
She stared at him as if he’d said the most outrageous thing. She pressed her lips together, seemingly speechless. She opened her mouth to speak, smiled uncomfortably, then said, “Do you think that’s the best solution? I’d hate to impose. Perhaps a hotel…”
It was a polite way to say no. But her reaction didn’t surprise or stop him. He pressed on. “You won’t be an imposition. It’s just me at my place, and I’m adaptable. But on second thought, the safe house is the best solution. It’s a condo near the lake and would be connected to police monitors.”
Her lips thinned. “I don’t know.”
“I think Brianna would be safer there. I don’t mean to scare you, but there’s always a possibility that this person would use your daughter to get to you.”
Instantly, Kindra shot forward, stiff-backed and alert. Her gaze hit his. “They wouldn’t!” Uncertainty washed over her face. “Okay. I’ll gather some belongings.”
“Very good. We’ll also need to take your Nanny Sally. The safe house doesn’t have much in the way of robotics.”
With effort, she stood from the sofa. “That will be fine.” She ambled several steps, then paused to run both palms down her face and neck. She clasped them together over her chest. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Shaking her head, she moved on down the hall.
While Kindra helped Brianna finish her bath and gathered their things, York called Avery to fill him in on what had happened, including his gut feeling that the viral outbreak and the attempt on Kindra’s life were related. He requested a review of the surveillance footage from Kindra’s garage and the surrounding area. Avery agreed.
He finished the call and looked up as Brianna bounded into the room. She hurled herself at him and gave him a gigantic hug. “Did
you miss me?” she asked with a bubbly grin.
“Why, of course. Who else loves syrup as much as I do?”
She giggled. “Are we really going to your house?”
“Yes, we are, just for a short while, then we’re going somewhere else.”
“I’ve never slept anywhere else,” she said with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.
“Then this will be a wonderful adventure.”
Kindra entered the room carrying two small overnight bags. She paused, rubbing the heel of her palm against her sternum.
“Pain?” he asked.
“A little.” She glanced at Brianna.
He sensed she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the child. “Ready?”
“Yes. Will we all fit in your air-car? Nanny has a few extra things for Brianna.”
He nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
The robot walked out of the bedroom with an additional, larger suitcase. How much stuff did they need for a couple of nights? Then he remembered all the toys and things Danny had always wanted to keep with him.
Brianna took York’s hand. He smiled at her, unable to shut out the long-ago memories or how much he missed his son. Some things, like caring for a child, never left the heart, even when they were no longer near. As they took the elevator down and he answered over a dozen of Brianna’s questions, he realized how much he’d distanced himself from children over recent years.
At the air-car, he hit the adjustment button on the console that elongated the chassis, the super strong fabric that covered it stretching into the new shape that allowed the air-car to accommodate four passengers. He leaned into the back and flipped down the seats. “There you go, Brianna. You and Nanny climb in.”
“Wow. I’ve never ridden in anything like this. Mommy doesn’t like them. We usually travel on the tran,” the child crooned.
“Honey, get in,” Kindra said.
He grinned at how Kindra was trying to quiet the girl. While everyone settled inside, he put their luggage in the trunk. He sobered as his gaze slid to the very spot in the parking garage where Kindra had been shot. It looked like his colleagues were wrapping up. He strolled over to Shishido. “I informed the captain I’m taking Kindra and Brianna to a safe-house. Just as a precaution.”
Perfection Page 17