The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4)

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The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4) Page 15

by Remington Kane


  “I can’t wait to see it. We’ll go right after breakfast, and we’ll eat as soon as my brother gets back.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “He went out for bagels.”

  ***

  As Maggie said, he was at the bagel shop, and was still getting used to maneuvering around, but he was down to one crutch and he could drive normally, because it was his left foot that was injured and not his right.

  He hobbled back to the car while gripping the bag of bagels, opened the door, and tossed the crutch and bagels onto the passenger seat. It wasn’t until he settled behind the wheel and closed the door that he smelled it.

  Lilacs?

  As he sniffed the air, he caught movement in the rear view mirror and saw Circe Doyle pointing a gun at his back.

  “You killed my Jeffrey.”

  Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Five shots passed through the seat and four of them entered his body, while a fifth one struck the steering column and ricocheted into the driver’s side window, shattering it.

  He moaned, fell forward, and became still.

  Circe looked down at her feet and saw that the tan carpet beneath them was turning bright red with blood.

  With tears in her eyes, she looked upward.

  “I’m coming, Jeffrey.”

  She then placed the gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

  ***

  Alan Brewer put down the bagel sandwich he’d been eating and looked at his girlfriend, Alexis.

  “Those were gunshots.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Alan said, and he was. He had just completed his training at the police academy, and he now knew the sound of a gunshot when he heard it.

  He went outside, saw the parked car, and then he noticed the blood and brain tissue splattered across its back window.

  Alan moved towards the car slowly, ready to run or dive for cover, but unable to walk away until he knew what had happened.

  As he moved past the rear of the vehicle he saw the bits of broken glass littering the ground outside the driver’s side door, and the man slumped over the steering wheel.

  “Mister? Hey! Mister!”

  No answer, not even a twitch,

  Alan moved closer and saw the man’s bloody torso, and then horribly, the girl in the rear seat.

  Oh Christ, half her head is gone.

  After taking a deep breath, Alan reached in and felt for a pulse on the man’s neck.

  “Alan!”

  “Alexis, don’t come any closer. Trust me; you do not want to see this.”

  “All right, but that man, is he okay?”

  Alan kept his hand steady on the man’s neck, then moved it lower, then moved it back. After giving it another twenty seconds, he looked over at his girlfriend and shook his head.

  “He’s dead.”

  An instant later, there was a loud, POOOOOFFFFF! sound, as the airbag in the steering wheel deployed. The bullet that had struck the steering column had damaged the mechanism that controlled it, causing the bag’s chance deployment.

  The unexpected explosion startled Alan, and he moved back so quickly that he fell rearward onto the ground. The inflated airbag had deployed with such power that it slammed the man who had been slumped over it back in the seat with ferocious force.

  The explosion shocked Alan, but not as much as what happened next, as the man behind the wheel let out a moan.

  “He’s alive! Alexis, he’s alive, call an ambulance!”

  Alan scrambled to his feet and approached the man.

  “Mister? Hey, hold on and we’ll get you help. Mister?”

  There was no answer and the man’s eyes stayed closed. Alan felt for a pulse, and this time, he felt one.

  He looked over at Alexis and saw that she was talking to her stepmother, Traci Dent, who was also a cop. Traci was off duty and had been in the bagel shop earlier, and Alan was thankful that she hadn’t left the area.

  Traci walked over while already on her phone, and Alan saw the shock on her face as she spotted the victim.

  “Oh God, Jack, it’s Jessica’s husband, and there’s a DB in the back seat. I can’t be sure, but it might be Circe Doyle... right, two minutes.”

  Alan asked a question as Traci checked for a pulse.

  “Do you know him, Traci?”

  “Yes, he and his wife are friends of ours, oh God, how many times has he been shot?”

  “Four, maybe five times,” Alan said. “He moaned a second ago, does he still have a pulse?”

  “Yes, but it’s weak, and it’s no wonder with all the blood he’s losing, but I don’t want to move him, he may have spinal injuries.”

  “What’s the ETA on the ambulance?”

  Alexis pointed towards the street, as flashing lights could be seen in the distance, a few seconds after that, and the siren could be heard faintly.

  Traci opened the car door and reached inside, to grip his hand. At first, there was no response, but then she felt his fingers curl slightly. She called him by name, while wincing at the ragged pair of exit wounds beneath his left collarbone. He didn’t answer, but she could see his eyes shift beneath the closed lids.

  “I need something to cut this airbag,” Traci said, and Alan produced a small folding knife from his pocket.

  Moments later, she had the bag deflated, and then the ambulance arrived.

  The ambulance driver and her partner were people that Traci knew slightly. The burly woman was named Karen and the thin-faced man was Hogan, although Traci didn’t know if that was his first name or last.

  They came with the wheeled stretcher and immediately began assessing his injuries. Because of protocol, Hogan reached into the back seat and checked Circe’s pulse. He declared her deceased within seconds and then returned his full attention to her victim.

  Karen spoke to Traci.

  “Has he responded to you in any way?”

  “Alan said he moaned, and he squeezed my hand slightly.”

  “His heart stopped once already,” Alan said. “He had no pulse until the airbag went off and jostled him.”

  Karen’s face clouded with greater concern.

  “That’s not a good sign,” she said.

  Karen had removed his boot and was touching his uninjured foot. Whatever she did, elicited another soft moan, and caused him to move his foot.

  “I think his spine is all right, Hogan. Let’s get him onto the stretcher, but be careful of the cast on his left foot.”

  Hogan nodded in agreement, and then the two of them lifted him from the car and onto the stretcher.

  “He’s lost a hell of a lot of blood,” Hogan said, “I think we should give him Ringer’s solution.”

  Yeah, otherwise, he might go into hemorrhagic shock,” Karen said, as she applied a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

  Hogan had been checking his pupils with a penlight when the hand shot up and grabbed his throat.

  Traci rushed over and gripped his wrist with both hands, while calling him by name, and telling him that it was all right, and that Hogan was a friend.

  The fingers around Hogan’s throat went limp, as the arm they were attached to fell back upon the stretcher. As Hogan gasped in air, Traci saw that Jessica’s husband had passed out once again.

  Hogan pointed at him as he spoke in a hoarse voice.

  “His hand was like a vise, and he’s barely got enough blood left to pump his heart. Who is this guy?”

  Traci looked at both of them.

  “Is he going to make it?”

  “You know him?”

  “Yes, he’s a friend.”

  Karen grimaced.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood, and there’s four entrance wounds, but only two exit wounds, so that means there’s still two slugs inside him. My advice is to pray.”

  Within moments, the ambulance was speeding away, even as the coroner arrived to deal with Circe Doyle’s remains.

  Traci decided to take Karen�
�s advice, as she bowed her head and said a silent a prayer.

  CHAPTER 5

  Chief of Police Jack Dent tried to smile as he got out of his car and walked towards Jessica, who was standing in her doorway to greet his arrival, however, the smile wilted on his lips.

  He had just gotten off the phone with Traci and learned how serious the condition of Jessica’s husband was, and that it was possible the man might die soon.

  Dent was in uniform and driving his police vehicle and he left it running as he rushed up the steps to Jessica, who had already discerned by his demeanor that something was wrong.

  “What is it?” she asked, even before Dent had uttered a word.

  “It’s your husband, he’s been shot by Circe Doyle, but he’s alive and on his way to the hospital.”

  Jessica stood in silence for a moment, her eyes blinking rapidly as she took in the news.

  “How serious are his injuries?”

  “It’s bad, Jessica. He was shot four times in the back.”

  Jessica wobbled, leaned against the doorframe, but stayed on her feet.

  “Take me to my husband.”

  ***

  A short distance away, Tyler offered his hand in greeting as Thomas Lawson met him in the driveway of a secluded home.

  “It’s good to see you again, Professor, although I’m sorry for the circumstances.”

  “Thank you, Lawson, but at least Mary had a full life.”

  They were speaking of Mary Langdon, the recently deceased owner of the home, and a friend of Tyler’s.

  They went up the steps and entered the large home, which was more than a century old, but had been kept in good repair.

  “Are you buying the place for yourself, Lawson?”

  “No, I’m actually scouting it out for Dr. Elena Colt. She’s looking for a place to house battered women.”

  “As part of her charity work?”

  “Yes, you know of Dr. Colt’s work?”

  “I do, and my late wife used to donate time to one of the clinics she funded.”

  “Your late wife was a doctor?”

  “Yes, a pediatrician.”

  Tyler gave him a tour of the home, which Tyler had been bequeathed in Mary’s will. As they toured, Lawson took video of each room with his phone, and would later forward it to Elena.

  “How long ago did Mrs. Langdon die?” Lawson asked.

  “It’s only been a short time, but owning the home makes me uncomfortable, even if she had no family to leave it to.”

  “You must have been a good friend to her.”

  Tyler’s demeanor grew solemn.

  “I tried to be, yes.”

  With the tour completed, they returned to the driveway, where Lawson’s driver waited, and was talking on the phone.

  “If Dr. Colt likes it, she’ll get in contact soon, but tell me, is that price firm?”

  Tyler smiled.

  “If Dr. Colt wants it, it’s hers. I’ll donate it to her charity. I wouldn’t feel right making money off the place anyway.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely,”

  Lawson’s driver called over to him and Lawson excused himself. Whatever news the man relayed to Lawson seemed to disturb him, because he looked visibly upset as he returned to Tyler.

  “There’s been a shooting,” Lawson began, as he told Tyler about Circe Doyle’s attack.

  Moments later, they were rushing away from the Langdon home, and headed for the hospital.

  ***

  Chief Dent escorted Jessica and Amanda into the hospital through the emergency room entrance, where a young nurse in a stark white uniform met them. Maggie and Jace had stayed behind to watch the babies, and were waiting to hear news.

  The nurse had no information for them, but after making a phone call, she told them that a doctor would be out to speak with them shortly.

  There were only a few people in the waiting room on this early Sunday morning, a young mother with a colicky baby, and a middle-aged couple, a man and a woman, whose sallow complexions and sweaty brows made them look as if they were suffering from the flu, or possibly food poisoning.

  And yet, despite the plentiful places to sit, Jessica and Amanda stood, pacing occasionally, with faces full of worry and fear.

  The doors opened behind them and Traci entered, followed by Alan and Alexis. The chief greeted them while giving Alan a quizzical look. He knew Alan only as his department’s newest recruit, and had no idea that he was dating his daughter, Alexis, but before he could inquire about his presence there, a doctor emerged through a set of swinging doors.

  Jessica all but ran to the white-haired man, who wore glasses and a well-trimmed beard.

  “Dr. White, my name is Dr. Falcone. Your husband is alive, but he’s lost a great deal of blood, there are also two bullets lodged in his thoracic cavity, one of which caused his heart to stop beating at the scene of the shooting.”

  Jessica took a deep breath before speaking.

  “How long had his heart stopped?”

  “We’re not sure, but we’ll know more once we get the results of his blood gases.”

  “When can you operate?”

  “As soon as possible, however, there is a complication. One of the slugs is pressing against the ascending aorta and limiting the blood supply to the coronary arteries. It’s positioned in such a way as to make its extraction a delicate procedure. My colleagues and I agree that he shouldn’t be moved, and in fact, his removal from his vehicle and the ambulance ride here likely served to increase the danger of a rupture to the artery.”

  “I understand, and will you be operating?”

  The doctor held up a hand.

  “I wouldn’t attempt it, as I said, it’s a very delicate operation, and ordinarily we would airlift him to a facility with doctors far more experienced than myself at treating gunshot wounds, but we don’t think he would survive the transfer.”

  “So, you’re bringing in another doctor?”

  “Yes, Dr. Anna Dewitt from Chicago, she’s a thoracic surgeon who has operated on hundreds of gunshot victims.”

  “Good, good, but may we see him?” Jessica said, and then gestured at Amanda. “This is his mother.”

  “You may see him for a moment, but he is under sedation to keep him still, and so you won’t be able to speak.”

  “I understand,” Jessica said, and then she and Amanda were led through the swinging doors.

  ***

  “You two are dating?” Dent said, as Alexis took Alan’s hand.

  “Yes, Daddy, and don’t be mad at Alan for not mentioning it to you, it was my idea to keep it a secret.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought if you knew about us you might not have hired him.”

  “One thing has nothing to do with the other, honey, but please tell me you didn’t actually witness the shooting.”

  “We didn’t, sir,” Alan said. “But I was first on the scene.”

  Dent looked over at his wife, Traci.

  “Who’s handling the scene now?”

  “Wilson is doing it himself, and he checked the prints before we left, the DB in the back seat was definitely Circe Doyle.”

  “The crazy little bitch,” Dent muttered, before looking over at his teenage daughter. “Excuse the language, honey,”

  Alexis sighed. “I’m not a child anymore, Daddy.”

  Dent looked at Alan.

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  ***

  Jessica let out a soft moan as she gazed down at her husband, who was lying on his stomach with his face turned towards her, and his eyes closed. At her side, Amanda cried softly.

  Jessica had never seen him look so weak and defenseless, and the sight of his multiple wounds caused tears to fall, even as she reached over and caressed his cheek.

  “Oh, baby, please don’t leave me. I love you so much.”

  Dr. Falcone appeared in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. White, but we need to prep
him for surgery.”

  Jessica placed a gentle kiss upon her husband’s lips before taking Amanda’s hand and heading for the door.

  Dr. Falcone laid a comforting hand on her arm.

  “I’m told his vital signs have already improved significantly, which is an excellent sign, and Dr. Dewitt is in route.”

  “Please take care of my husband; he’s very special.”

  “We will treat him like family,” Falcone said.

  Jessica and Amanda were escorted to a waiting area. In a corner of the room was a television, suspended near the ceiling, someone had muted it, but its familiar presence was somehow soothing, as it sent forth its flickers of light.

  Jessica looked to her left and saw that Amanda was trembling.

  “He’ll be all right, Amanda.”

  Amanda nodded, but began sobbing again, and Jessica knew that she feared the loss of another son. They were sitting together on a sofa, and Jessica placed an arm around her.

  “We’ll find Michael.”

  Amanda wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “He won’t be like Jeffrey, he won’t, of the three of them, Michael was always the sweetest.”

  Jessica thought of her husband, and the fact that he was nearly brought down by a teenage girl who had the face of an angel.

  She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and said a prayer for her husband’s survival.

  CHAPTER 6

  12:48 p.m. Daytona Beach, Florida

  Cassandra greeted Mia and Kelly as they joined her in the backyard of her sister’s home.

  Kelly was twenty-three, but was so petite and innocent looking that she appeared to be in her mid-teens, while Mia, a Hispanic woman of twenty-two, had an air of sophistication about her that often allowed her to play the part of a woman years older.

  All three of them were members of PREY, an organization dedicated to combating human predators of all types, and all three women had been victimized and survived such predation earlier in their lives.

  “Where’s your sister?” Mia asked Cassandra.

  “I placed her in a hotel under my Cassandra Smith identity, but follow me over to the picnic table. Elena said she would contact us at one o’clock.”

  The three women sat close together before Cassandra’s laptop, and a short time later, Dr. Elena Colt appeared on the monitor.

 

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