The truck. He’d dropped it and kicked it behind his shoe, then had forgotten to bring it with him.
Tate bit down on his molars and searched Liberty’s jacket pockets for her cell. When he found it and pulled it out, the screen was completely shattered. He pressed the button, but when it illuminated he couldn’t even read what anything said.
He patted her arm and gently shook her. “Liberty.” They were going to have to walk out of here. Provided he could put one foot in front of the other without falling over. He could hardly think through the pain. It felt like his head had been split open. There was probably a dent in the tile where he’d landed.
Liberty groaned, a long, low sound of intense pain. Tate shifted her off his legs so he could see her shoulder. Yep, she was bleeding as well.
Tate didn’t want to wait, so he got his feet under him and lifted her as he rose to stand. While she blinked, Tate waited for the room to stop spinning. Then they started walking.
Where were Francis and his men? And firefighters? They needed an ambulance—now.
“Thank You, God, we aren’t trapped,” Tate said.
Liberty’s mouth curled up. “Amen to that.” She glanced around. “How are we gonna get out of here?”
Tate turned his body to look for an exit so he didn’t have to turn his head.
Liberty gasped. “Tate!”
He looked back to see her whip off her coat. She winced but got her sweater off, and then put her coat back on. She balled it up. “Press this to the back of your head. I doubt you should be upright and moving around, but I don’t think I can carry you out of here.” She led him to the edge of the pool, and he climbed the steps. “As long as you’re upright, I’m going to trust it so that we can get ourselves out of here.”
Once he’d let go of the stair handle, Tate pressed the sweater to the back of his head. The touch whipped white shards across his vision like lightning. He almost blacked out, and then Liberty was under his arm with hers around his waist.
“This might be a problem.” She worried her bottom lip. “But you need to keep that on there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Liberty made a tut sound with her mouth as she walked with him—slowly—toward a fire exit door at the far end of the pool area. “I did not miss that sarcasm.”
Tate smiled. “I missed you.”
Liberty leaned on the exit bar on the door. “Thank You, God, this whole place wasn’t destroyed. Just the other end of the building.” She hesitated a second. “Unless I push on this and the building comes down on us.”
She glanced up at him. Tate couldn’t seem to find the words to say. “Lib.” He wanted to touch her cheek. Why did she look so worried?
“We can’t wait. I have to risk it.” She paused. “If we do get squished... I mean, we almost died already, but if we die now... I missed you. No matter what happens, I don’t think that will ever change.”
Tate loved hearing that, because he felt the same way. “Missed you, too, Lib.” The words were kind of mumbled. When he leaned in to kiss her, the room started spinning.
“Whoa.” She shifted under him. Tate’s body moved without him intending it to. His shoulder hit the exit bar, and the door opened. They stumbled through, but Liberty got under his shoulder and lifted his body back upright like a professional.
Cold air whipped his face and clothes. It was entirely too light outside, so he shut his eyes. Snow crept into his boots as they walked.
“You’re strong,” he grunted. Which wasn’t all he wanted to say, but it was all he could get out.
“Yeah, well.” She groaned out the words. “It turns out there’s a lot of free time for strength training when you don’t have a life or any friends.”
“I’m your friend.”
“Yes, Tate.” There was a smile in her voice. “You are.”
A police siren sounded close by. Tate groaned. “Too loud.”
“It’s Dane.”
The sheriff said, “Sit down?”
“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. He’s really hurt, Dane. He’s slurring his words.” She lowered him into the snow and took the sweater. Did she need it? No, Liberty put it under his head. Then she yelled, “He needs an ambulance!”
Was he really that hurt? Tate tried to open his eyes, to get a look at her face, but nothing seemed to be working.
“It’s on the way.” Dane was quiet for a second, but then his footsteps got closer. “You don’t look so good either, Liberty.”
Worry permeated Tate’s body like a cold frost, and he shivered, then reached for her hand. Was she okay?
“I’ll go with him and get checked out myself when I know he’s okay.”
Dane didn’t say anything for a while.
“Dane?”
“Yeah, Tate. I’m here.”
Tate didn’t open his eyes. Liberty said, “You’re the only one here?”
“Help is on the way.”
“What about the Secret Service? Their SUV was around that side, behind where we parked your truck.”
Tate was glad she asked; he didn’t seem to be able to make more than one or two words.
“There are two fire trucks over there that just got here,” Dane said. “Not much left of my truck you guys were driving. The one parked behind it was flipped over. They’re cutting the agents out now.”
“What?” Tate snapped his eyes open. Too bright. He tried to sit up. Pain snapped through his skull like he’d been hit with a lightning rod. “They...”
Blackness rushed in from the edges of his vision and swallowed him whole.
* * *
“We need that ambulance!”
Dane touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. Tate’s eyes had rolled back in his head, and then his whole body had gone limp. “He’ll be okay, Liberty.”
“You didn’t see the back of his head.” What if he needed surgery? What if his brain was bleeding?
Dane motioned to the vehicle as it pulled up. “There they are.”
It took forever for them to climb out of their ambulance and race over. “He hit his head in the explosion.” She didn’t want to move away, but they needed room to get Tate on their backboard.
Dane helped her stand. “You okay?”
No, she wasn’t okay. Her shoulder smarted more than she thought possible, but she pushed aside the pain to focus on what was happening.
“Update me,” she said.
Dane didn’t look convinced, but she saw the moment he decided to acquiesce. Liberty desperately needed to feel like she had a handle on this situation. It was so out of control.
“The fire department is cutting the agents out of their car. One is dead—”
“Francis?”
“Which one is he?”
“The driver.”
“Then no,” Dane said. “It was the passenger who was killed in the explosion. The driver and the two who were in the back seat are alive, but I don’t know much more than that.”
Liberty blew out a breath.
“They have some pretty bad injuries. All of them are unconscious. We’ll have to see what the doctors say.” Dane paused. “You’re going with Tate, right?”
She glanced at the two EMTs. One said, “That’s a nasty crack on the back of his head.”
Liberty nodded, unable to say anything without dissolving into painful tears. She swallowed and looked at Dane. “Yes, I’m going with Tate. But you need to find Natalie Stand, because she told us to come here. And when we did?” Liberty swept her arm to encompass the building in its now disastrous state.
Dane nodded. “I’ll pick her up.”
Liberty fisted her hands by her sides. “I don’t understand.” The thoughts had barely coalesced in her mind, and she had no idea what the
y meant, but she needed to talk it through with someone. “Why shoot up this place? Isn’t that a little obvious?” She paused. “They’ll never get their money or the guy released from prison if the agents they’re dealing with are in the hospital.”
“So they were aiming for you and Tate, and the other Secret Service agents got caught in the cross fire?”
Liberty glanced around, trying to work it out. “Maybe. I mean, it’s sloppy. They must not have known exactly who was in the SUV. And if Tate and I were the targets, why kill us? Doing that won’t convince the Secret Service Tate was behind it. Not unless they’re still trying to pin it on him, making it look like he’s guilty even while he’s helping solve this.” That didn’t explain things, though.
“The feds still don’t know where those people are.”
Liberty shook her head. “We have to find them.”
Dane shot her a dark look. “I know that. I’ve been looking at the locations but nothing is jumping out at me as a possibility for where they might head next.”
“We don’t have an address for the ransom delivery?”
Dane shook his head. “If they keep to their timeline so far, there will be one more video before the ransom.”
“And if they kill the first hostage during that live broadcast?”
“Let’s pray they don’t.”
Could she do that? Could Liberty trust God with something so important when she’d spent the last year bemoaning the fact that He hadn’t trusted her with something as important as having a future of her own? There was a mental block between her and letting God have full control of her life once again. As though she’d trusted Him with everything, and in return He hadn’t done the same.
One of the EMTs called out, “Let’s go.”
She spun to watch the EMT lift Tate onto a backboard. His head had been secured, which made him look worse. A whimper worked its way up her throat. What if he died? He might not be in her life anymore, but if this injury killed him, she didn’t know what she would do. She was already living only halfway, surviving but not thriving as she had when she’d been secure in their relationship and had God’s goodness in her life. Now all she had was herself, and mostly it was just lonely.
“Go with them,” Dane said.
He walked her to the ambulance and helped her in. Just before he shut the doors, he said to the EMT, “She needs to see a doctor as well.”
The EMT shot her a look, like she’d disappointed him.
Liberty said, “That was the plan, okay?” She leaned her head back against the side of the ambulance and closed her eyes. The door shut, and the vehicle pulled out. For the first time in a long time, Liberty prayed. She asked for protection for both her and Tate, healing for him and help for those agents. Some of them would likely end up in intensive care for a while. Then she prayed the people behind all this would be caught.
While Tate got an MRI to make sure there was no bleeding in his brain, Liberty saw a doctor and got stitched up. The doctor wasn’t too happy about the fact that she spent the whole time he was working on her on the phone with Locke. But the clock on the wall ticked closer and closer to the deadline for the release of the man from federal prison. A man they had learned was Venezuelan.
“You know we’re not actually going to let him out, right?” Locke asked the question carefully.
Of course she knew that. She’d just never been in a hostage/ransom situation before. “You’re not even going to consider the fact that three people might die if you don’t?”
“They know the drill, and so do you.” That didn’t mean she had to like it. “We’re looking everywhere for them. The locations picked were very specific. Wi-Fi they could hack, after hours. No people.”
“It’s Saturday. What location has Wi-Fi and is closed right now?”
“Aside from that credit union?” Locke said. “A handful of places. We’re hitting each one, and we’ll cross them all off before the deadline, so let’s pray we find them.”
“I will.” Especially if it meant those people didn’t lose their lives.
“How’s Tate?”
“I’ll know for sure when his test results come in. They said that the fact that he hasn’t woken up yet doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
Locke sighed audibly. “Okay.”
“Find those people, Locke.”
“Stay safe, Liberty.”
She hung up, and the doctor shot her a pointed look but tied off the stitches. He could glare all he wanted, but she had work to do regardless of whether she’d been shot or not. He released her, and she sat in the waiting area.
Tate was wheeled to a room, and she sat with him. They’d bandaged his head, which made him look frail even though he was so big. He’d always been so strong. Protective.
Liberty brushed her hand over his cheek and sat by his elbow. “Wake up.”
She didn’t know what she would say to him if he did, but she just wanted to see the blue of his eyes. She wanted to see the way he looked at her, tell him she’d always loved him, even from the first moment they met. He wasn’t like any other man she’d ever known. Some people might think that his independence was a problem because it caused him to butt heads with others, but she knew it was the thing that made him special. Strong enough to withstand everything he already had and still have the courage to go his own way, Tate had forged a path all his own.
Liberty wanted to soak up that strength. Maybe borrow it for a while so she could finally tell him why she’d broken up with him. She choked back a sob. Maybe one day he would even understand why she’d told him to move on without her, maybe even say he’d have done the same thing.
As Liberty watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, she couldn’t help thinking how much she’d missed just being around him. The people trying to kill him had nearly succeeded. She’d nearly lost the man she loved.
What was she going to do about that, just sitting here staring at him? She couldn’t have him. He would never accept her back, but she could help him to live more fully.
Tate’s eyes started to flutter. A low moan issued from deep in his throat.
Liberty rushed out of the room before he saw her.
FIFTEEN
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to advise you not to leave, sir.”
Tate didn’t look at the doctor. He was concentrating on putting his arms in the scrubs top they’d given him. “You said the test indicated everything was good.”
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t a hole in the back of your head.”
“Don’t worry, Doc, I’ll wait an hour before I go swimming.” Maybe that wasn’t intended for a head injury, but the doctor would get the idea he planned to be safe. Tate wanted to know where Liberty was. No one had answered their phones, and he’d thought for sure she would be here with him when he woke up.
Instead he’d been greeted by an empty room and the fog he figured was from whatever they’d given him to kill the pain in his head. Thank You, God, for modern medicine.
Finally he’d gotten through to Dane, who was coming to pick him up.
The doctor sighed. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Whatever I need to sign, I’ll sign.” Tate shrugged on his jacket, which was still damp, and sat on the edge of the bed. “But I gotta get out of here.”
The doctor moved to the door. “I’ll have an orderly bring a wheelchair. You are not walking out of here. No strenuous activity, and I’d advise you to curtail anything except for lying down as much as you possibly can. Any symptoms of disorientation, dizziness, blackouts or anything else at all and I want you back here, no complaints.”
“Done.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dane pulled up at the curb, Tate’s dogs in the back seat. “That’s my ride.”
The orderly wheele
d Tate out the door and up to the sheriff’s vehicle, which was good because Tate didn’t think he could have made it that far on his feet. Both dogs barked. The sound split through his head. “Quiet.”
They stopped, and he glanced up at Dane, whose eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re not supposed to be in there still?”
Tate ignored the question. “Where’s Liberty?”
“She got stitches and a prescription.”
He waited for more. “And?”
Dane sighed. “I dropped her off with Director Locke.”
She’d gone back to work? Tate didn’t want to accept the fact that she’d chosen work over him, but it was the truth. Was that what she’d done a year ago as well?
He’d always been a realist. They’d spent a lot of time together over the past couple of days, but evidently it hadn’t been enough to convince Liberty she should trust him enough to share what she was still keeping secret. It was like she wanted to punish herself for something. To suffer—and make him suffer as well.
Dane helped him into the passenger seat. She wasn’t the only one suffering, but he didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d cracked his head open. Liberty was hurt as well, and yet she insisted on continuing to hurt the two of them more by being in town and refusing to answer his question.
Tate rested his elbow at the bottom of the window, made a fist and leaned his head against it. She should never have come here if she wasn’t going to actually talk to him. Really talk. She thought she was helping, but Liberty just didn’t understand the fact that he couldn’t handle small talk when there was so much more to say. Things that actually meant something. To both of them.
“Are you really okay?”
Tate looked at Dane out of the corner of his eye. “Just tell me where we’re going.”
“Last on the list of locations with Wi-Fi,” Dane said. “In other news, Natalie Stand is gone. The daughter was with a neighbor when I knocked on doors seeing if anyone knew where she was. They all said she’s private, but also that she frequently has male visitors, and only occasionally it’s your brother.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Yuletide Suspect Page 13