Ricky kicked it across the huge hallway, leaning against the wall next to the drinking fountain. He pulled out his phone.
Before the movie he hadn’t been able to get a hold of Shayne. Her phone rang like she’d been on the other line, but she didn’t answer. And she always picked up when he called. She’d told him once that nobody was more important to her. He pressed in her digits and hit send. Straight to voicemail. He looked at the screen and frowned.
Something wasn’t right.
Another call. More voicemail.
Unable to swallow his unsubstantiated fear, he bent over for a quick drink.
“Are you Matt Xavier?” a woman’s voice asked.
Ricky jerked up just in time to see Matt’s brows frown. “Yeah.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad to have found you. Your mother—”
“Who are you?” Matt snapped.
The woman smiled. “Isabelle Boreno and I’m—”
“Come on, son.” Ricky clapped his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta get home.”
He glanced back at the woman, meeting her narrowed eyes. He didn’t know what her problem was, and, frankly, he didn’t care. He had other, more important, people to worry about.
“You got your phone on ya?”
Matt fished the Motorola out of his pocket. “Yeah.” Without being told, he moved his thumb over the keys and put it to his ear. He shook his head. “Voicemail.”
Ricky wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but guessed it came close to the worry Matt sported.
The kid hit a few more buttons, listened. “Dammit!” He made another call. “Frankie and X aren’t answering either. Something’s wrong.”
“I’m sure everything’s fine.” A tingling at the base of his neck told him Matt hit the nail on the head.
They walked as quickly as possible to where the SUV sat in the parking lot. It took three times before his shaking hands could get the key into the ignition. He twisted and the engine roared. He put it into gear. Tires chirped as he put his foot to the floor. He raced out of the parking lot, hit a few side streets, ran a red light. When he hit I-15, he topped a hundred miles an hour.
His phone rang and instinct said he shouldn’t let Matt answer it. Screw the handless law, he wouldn’t allow his son to receive bad news about his mother. Ricky eased his foot off the gas and accepted the call from Xavier. “Talk to me.”
“She’s okay.” Xavier didn’t sound real sure of that. “We’re at University Medical Center.”
“What happened?”
“Just get here as fast as you can.”
“How long’s she been there?”
“About forty-five minutes.” X sighed, deep and heavy. “Don’t go there, my friend. You’re needed here. No time for thinking you might have changed a damn thing.”
“What happened?”
“Come in the main entrance. Frankie’ll meet you.” Shayne’s brother disconnected the call.
“She’s okay,” Ricky said numbly, not looking over at the kid.
“Mom’s tough.” Matt turned his phone over and over in his hand. He stared out the window. “She probably fell off a chair or something. She did that once. Broke her foot and everything. That was the first time I ever heard the f-word.”
Ricky laughed at that. His wife didn’t exactly talk like a trucker.
“She probably had an accident.” Matt nodded. “Yeah, she’s kinda clumsy.”
Ricky got the feeling whatever’d put Shayne in the ER wasn’t an accident. X’s voice spoke of six-feet-under kind of serious shit. Not to mention really damn scary.
Matt filled the silence with disjointed conversations. Wherever his thoughts went, his mouth followed. Ricky half listened. Actually he couldn’t claim even that much. Truth was, Matt didn’t notice. The kid talked to fill the silence bouncing around in his own head. He sensed the big-fat-wrong of the situation.
Ricky flew into a parking space, barely letting the truck stop before throwing the transmission into park. Matt threw his door open before the engine was off, raced around to join Ricky in a jog toward the front entrance. The big glass doors slid apart and Frankie hurried over to them. “Come on.”
“What happened?” Ricky wasn’t sure whether he asked the question or if Matt had.
Regardless, Frankie shook her head. “It’s best if—”
“Cut the shit, Doc!” They didn’t slow their pace, but he didn’t let their quick clip slow down his lecture. “You’re a freakin’ doctor, Frankie. What the hell happened?”
She shook her head again, hurrying to put some space between them. If he hadn’t been so concerned about Shayne he might have wrung his sister-in-law’s neck. Frankie put a keycard up to a lock and the doors to the emergency department released. She pushed through, holding them for Matt and Ricky.
As the lock engaged again, she looked at the kid, then back at him. “It’s not good.”
“What happened?”
“We’re trying to piece it all together. The police aren’t—”
“Police?” Matt yelled. He glanced down the hallway in both directions. “What the heck happened?”
Ricky put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. A man in a white coat came out of a room with Xavier on his heels. “Are you Mr. Santiago?”
“Yes, and this is my son.”
The doctor nodded, put his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Your wife gave me permission to discuss her condition with you. I can only tell you what happened from the point they pulled her out of the bathtub.”
The bathtub?
“We’re not sure how long she was submerged.”
Submerged?
“EMT’s found a pulse. They reported it as weak, but any pulse in a drowning victim—”
“Drowning?” Ricky scrubbed his face, plowed his fingers through his hair. “You’re saying Shayne drowned.”
“Yes.” He shot a quick glance at X, then looked at Ricky. “The EMT’s got her to cough up quite a bit of water at the scene. Good news, tests verify her lungs are clear. Bad news, there was water in them. We’re monitoring her now.”
“She’s awake?”
“Awake and responsive, yes. Although, she was asleep when we left her. We’re going to keep her overnight for observation.”
“Where is she?” Matt tried so hard to be an adult when Ricky could see he frayed at the seams. “Can we see her?”
The doctor pointedly looked at Ricky. “May I have a word with you?”
Not good. “Yes, of course.”
The doctor walked down the hall and off to one side. “It wasn’t an accident, Mr. Santiago. There was a break-in. Your wife—”
“Was she…raped?”
“No.”
Ricky swayed with relief.
“But they did beat her up pretty good.”
Ricky’s breath hitched. His vision went red. His molars ground together.
“She’s going to be okay from those wounds. My concern is her lungs. Complications can pop up years later sometimes. We can discuss those facts at a later time. Right now, you need to understand she looks worse than she really is. She’s a bit confused, which is to be expected. Your son should be prepared for what you’re going to walk into.”
Screw that, Ricky needed to be prepared. He wasn’t prepared. Never would be. No amount of rah-rah bullshit could make him okay with Shayne having so much as a paper cut, let alone...
“I need to see her.”
“Of course. This way.”
Ricky followed the doctor back to the door he and X had come out of a few minutes earlier.
“I’ve got other patients to see.” He checked his watch. “I’ll check back in a little bit.”
“Thanks.” Ricky stepped toward the room only to have Xavier grab a hold of his bicep.
“She looks bad, man.”
“Got it.” He shrugged out of the hold and opened the door.
Shayne slept. Her auburn hair fanned out over the pillow. Her head turned to the right. She
looked a little pale, but not so bad. Maybe a little swollen in her cheeks, probably due to the water, but nothing horrifying. He wanted to deck X and the doctor for freaking him out and scaring the crap out of Matt.
Ricky quietly walked around the bed and sat down in the chair. He took her hand, leaned forward and gulped back a horrified groan. A cut ran through her right eyebrow. The butterfly bandages held it together, pulling at the swollen, purple skin. No slopes and gentle curves remained. Her face was puffy from brow to where her dimple should be.
She moaned and he lifted her hand to kiss it. “I’m here, amor.”
Her lashes fluttered. One of her eyes opened. “Matt?” she croaked.
“He’s right outside.”
“How was the movie?” She attempted a smile.
Two-by-four to the gut. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed his hand softly. “No sorry.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Later. Tell you…later. Okay?” The weak string of words broke his heart.
“Sure.” He rubbed at a lock of hair, twisting it around his finger. “How do you feel?” Stupid question. She probably felt like shit, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say to her.
“Thirsty.” She licked her lips. “Can you get me water?”
That he could do. He made quick work of the mauve cup and pitcher combo. Handing her the water, he steadied her hands, pulling the assist of rim to lip.
She sipped, eased the cup away and smiled. “Tastes good.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her into his arms. She didn’t return his embrace, but eased against him just the same. He tightened his hold. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Her head moved against his chest. “Not okay. Wanted Matt.”
“What?”
“Not me. Matt.”
He ran his hand over her hair, petting her, doing his best to soothe her. “Shh. Just rest.”
The doctor had warned him she’d be confused. Obviously he’d been right. He just thanked his lucky stars she recognized him.
She stiffened. “See Matt. Need see Matt.”
“Okay, mujer bonita.” He bent over, forcing her to lie against the pillows. “He’s right outside with X. I’ll grab him.” When he stood, she tried to as well. “Uh-uh, amor. Hold tight, I’ll get him.”
“Protect Matt.”
“I will.” He understood her concern for her son. Of course. Someone had entered their home—he’d really like the details of that part of the story—and very nearly killed her. Yeah, he’d be pretty freaked out too. But something didn’t add up.
He slipped out the door. Matt jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the floor and nearly pounced on him. “Is she okay?”
Ricky nailed X with a don’t-sugar-coat-it stare. “Yeah.”
Matt asked again. “How bad is she?”
“Bad.”
Matt looked mortified.
“Not what you think.” Ricky took his son by the biceps and got in nice and tight, nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball. “Listen, my man. Your mom needs you to be strong, okay? She’s pretty beat up, sportin’ lots of black and blue. And you’re gonna front like she’s a beauty queen. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Okay, come on.”
Ricky knew the moment Matt saw his mother’s face. His shoulders stiffened then set. “Hey, sexy mama.”
Shayne laughed and then coughed. And coughed. Ricky hustled over, worried a lung—or a toe—might come up with the next hack. She shooed him away. “Okay.” Cough. Cough. “I’m okay.” She patted her chest. Cough. She waved at Matt. “Really okay.”
“What happened, Mom?”
She laid back against the pillows and sighed. And actually looked like she might answer the question. This time. It shouldn’t piss Ricky off that she’d all but refused when he queried. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he might regret.
Turned out the self-restraint wasn’t needed. A knock preceded the entrance of two police officers. “We’d like to get your statement now.”
As soon as the tap on the door sounded, Shayne opened her eyes and started the shuffle of getting herself more upright. She smiled at the officers. “Okay. But don’t want…him…here.”
For a sickening heartbeat, Ricky’d thought she meant him, but she pointed at Matt.
“No, Mom, I’m old enough—”
She shook her head. “Out. Please.”
Matt began to protest again. Ricky put the kibosh on it by a jerk of the head and a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down to whisper in the kid’s ear. “It’s better this way. Go hang with X for a while. If there’s anything you need to know, I’ll tell you.”
Matt’s hazels narrowed. “Promise?”
Ricky dipped his chin. “Promise.”
Matt opened the door and ducked out into the hall. Ricky turned. “Let’s do this.” It was about damn time he learned what happened to his wife.
“I’m Detective Black and this is my partner—”
“Detective White.” The big guy with a brush cut extended his hand. “We’ve heard ‘em all.”
Ricky shook the man’s hand, too numb to find humor at the partners’ names.
Black went over and sat in the chair next to Shayne’s bed. “We’ve listened to the nine-one-one tape. We’ve watched the prison surveillance and read the transcript of the conversation…”
911 tapes. Prison surveillance. Transcripts. What the hell?
He watched Shayne. She fidgeted, folded the sheets into pleats. The words obviously made her uncomfortable.
“We have a pretty good idea of what happened,” White told her. “But we need to hear your side of things. Can you do that?”
She nodded, then went about to disclose a rape...
His jaw clenched, his molars cranking closed. Fury blazed white-hot, scorching him from the inside out.
A conception…
Matt. His stomach churned with compassion.
A convicted felon...
The murderous rage he’d felt when he thought the bastard had left her high-and-dry was nothing to the lethal aggression consuming him now.
Until she talked about her trip to the prison. To see the asshole. Accompanied by…Xavier.
Sonofabitch!
“They broke through the back door. I ran. He tackled me. I fought,” she sobbed, “I fought as hard as I could, but they knocked me out.” She then tied up the little fairytale with the bastards putting her in the bathtub and turning on the water.
Ricky couldn’t breathe. He put his hands on his knees, leaned over and gasped like a fish. Instead of the detectives caudling his ass, they pretended he hadn’t flipped into a full-fledged, balls-in-a-vise panic attack.
“You’ll be happy to know we have all three of them in custody.”
“Three? There were only—”
“Isabelle Boreno.” Black patted her leg through the blankets. “From what we can tell, she was the head of the operation.”
“The theatre.” Panic choked Ricky.
White nodded. “Yeah. She’s in custody and should go away for a very long time. We’ll keep you apprised of the situation as it progresses.”
The officers each shook his hand. Not that Ricky had anything to offer in return. Numb. Lost. Dumbfounded. Pissed!
As the door closed behind them, Ricky took hold of the anger and stomped over to the chair. He stood behind it, putting his hands on the back. “Care to explain to me?”
“What’s to explain?” She coughed. “Told them. You heard.”
Stone cold anger turned his blood to ice. “Yeah, I heard every sonofabitchin’ word. How dare you keep something like this from me?”
“Sorry, busy getting murdered.” More coughing.
“Don’t give me that shit!” He slapped his hand on the back of the chair. “I’m talking about the other stuff. I never would have insisted on adopting Matt if I’d known that man wou
ld have to be made aware of him. I’m going to have X’s balls for this.”
He turned his back on her, stalked over to the window and looked outside. “What else are you keeping from me, Shayne?”
“Nothing.”
His shoulders couldn’t hold his head another moment. It dropped, his forehead coming to rest on the cool glass. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. “I thought we could talk about anything.”
“We can.”
“Bullshit.” Weary, he turned back to face her. She wiped at her cheeks, but he was too near tears himself to care. “How could you put yourself—” He shook his head. “—my son—”
“He’s not your son!” she screamed and began to cough.
He wasn’t sure which hurt worse, the words gouging at his eardrums or the ice cold dose of reality piercing his heart.
Her message, delivered loud and clear, came without a chance of stamping it return-to-sender. He blinked. And got the hell out before she found her voice again.
***
Shayne fought the urge to scream her head off. She might have tried it if she hadn’t feared triggering another episode of coughs she couldn’t control. She hated being alone, in the quiet. She’d tried the TV, but couldn’t stand the monotony of reality shows and nighttime soap operas. Her life had pulled out all the stops. Her reality check had almost killed her.
Since walking out of her room nearly three hours ago, Ricky had been MIA. From what she’d gathered from Matt and the black eye X wore, Ricky muttered a few curse words, cold cocked her brother and stomped off.
Matt went home with Xavier and Frankie, which was for the best. Despite Ricky’s whereabouts, it wasn’t like their home was inhabitable at the moment anyway. Their home. Ha. Did she even have a home anymore? If the roles were reversed she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive Ricky. She’d lied to him. Big time. She kinda wished her brother were here so she could curse at him herself. She hated that he was so very right.
Exhaustion enveloped her. She decided to channel her inner Scarlett O’Hara and worry about her problems tomorrow. She closed her eyes, praying the nightmares would resist the need to bother her tonight.
26
Shayne wasn’t sure what pulled her out of her slumber, but her calm and collected assured her it wasn’t a nightmare. She opened her eyes. And screamed.
Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) Page 22