by London Casey
“Peggy?” His voice caught.
She opened her good eye. He thought she tried to smile, but she immediately touched her lips. She leaned over, picked up a white board and a dry erase marker and scribbled on it. She held it up. “Jaw broken.”
He feared that might be the case. He pulled up a chair, telling himself he would not get sucked into her siren’s call again. Been there done that. “You needed to tell me something?” She had asked for him. He hoped her injuries weren’t life threatening. He couldn’t handle that.
“Garrett hit me,” she wrote in letters that looked like someone three times her age had penned them.
“I’m sorry. Was he drunk?” Damn. He shouldn’t have asked, as it was none of his business. “Never mind. Look, I’m sorry. I really am. When the doctors release you, you need to go the women’s shelter.”
She flinched. “Uh-uh.”
Damn. Once the sheriff’s department found her husband, Thad suspected she’d be crawling back to the bastard the moment he was released from jail. Her brows pinched, and he bet her lips would have puckered if she’d been able to move them better.
She scribbled more words and held it up. “Garrett thinks I want to leave him for you. Watch out.”
Was that what started their fight? Peggy probably just threw that in Garrett’s face to piss him off.
“I appreciate the heads up, but I can take care of myself.” He stood. “I’ll stop by in a few days to see how you’re doing.” Thad turned back toward the door before she asked for something he couldn’t deliver.
Once in the hallway, he’d taken only a few steps then halted. Fuck. Garrett McDonald was coming straight at him. Twenty feet. Now fifteen.
Chapter Two
“Stop.” Thad’s hand hovered over his holster, his fingers itching to draw his weapon. “Garrett, you can’t be here.” A tight band wrapped around Thad’s chest.
The man halted. His gaze darted right and left, and his lips curled in apparent disgust. “Fuck you, Dalton.” He flexed his right hand, acting as if he was debating whether to go for a weapon that was probably hidden under his coat. He shifted his weight from one side to the other, agitation rolling off him in waves.
Peggy’s husband’s dark hair was matted to his head, and he hadn’t shaved in what looked like days. Thad was too far away to check his eyes, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they were bloodshot. With fidgety fingers, Garret lifted his hand closer to his body.
“Don’t even think about it.” Thad couldn’t be positive Garrett was packing, but he had to assume he was. “Peggy’s hurt bad. She needs her rest.” Thad doubted anything he said would make a difference to this prick.
The door behind Garrett opened, but fortunately he didn’t seem to notice or perhaps he didn’t care. When Thad saw who it was, his heart stopped. Shit. It was Dr. Zoey Donovan, the woman who’d pretended to be his shrink during the sting operation to bring down the mercy killer. Her red hair flowed wildly about her shoulders, and her gaze was cast downward as she read something from the folder in her hands. He wanted to shout at her to turn around, but he didn’t want to draw Garrett’s attention her way.
Look up, Zoey. See the danger. Come on, come on.
Garrett jerked his head toward her. Faster than a lizard could capture a fly, he snagged her by the throat and dragged her close. Thad’s heart lurched. The folder in her hands fluttered and papers fell from it, scattering onto the ground. She squeaked out a gasp and latched onto Garrett’s wrists fighting to get loose. He tightened his hold, and her breaths came out faster. Wide eyed, Zoey whimpered, but she didn’t scream.
Good girl. Keep calm.
She caught sight of him, and recognition dawned. When she mouthed, “Help me,” her terror stabbed him in the gut.
Thad’s training kicked into high gear, and he sifted through his options. Not wanting Garrett to think he had the upper hand, Thad jerked his right shoulder forward and widened his stance.
“Garrett, let her go,” Thad stated in a slow, easy manner, not wanting to set him off even more. Thad held up his palms, hoping to make McDonald believe he wouldn’t shoot, even though his weapon was clearly visible in his holster.
Halfway between him and Garrett, two doors across the hall from each other opened at the same time. A nurse and a doctor emerged. From the way they were looking straight ahead, they were oblivious to the hostage situation taking place fifteen feet from them. Before Thad could motion them back inside the rooms, Garrett pulled a gun from inside his coat, and propped his arm on Zoey’s shoulder for support. Fuck.
Garrett aimed at Thad, and then swung the weapon around, pointing it at the doctor first, and then at the nurse. Thad’s pulse skyrocketed as he tried to figure out the best course of action.
“No one moves, or I’ll shoot.” Garrett slurred the last few words, sounding drunk or possibly high. Either scenario was bad.
Thad wanted to tell Zoey not to move so as not to set Garrett off, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse by shouting out commands. What he needed was a clean shot.
Just wait. Garrett would make a mistake. His kind always did.
Two soft clicks reverberated at the end of the hall behind Thad, indicating a door had opened and closed quickly. With any luck, whoever it was would contact security or RHPD—at least he hoped that person would.
Zoey’s lips pressed together as she gritted her teeth. “Let go of me.” She tried to wrestle out of the man’s hold, but he pressed his shooting arm closer against her head, trapping her. Her mouth opened to gulp in air. She must be scared shitless.
Easy, Zoey.
Thad glanced at the two medical personnel who’d innocently entered the fray. Thankfully, both of the staff members had plastered their backs against the wall and remained still, their gazes darting between Garrett and Thad. He prayed neither decided to be a hero.
“What do you want, McDonald?” Thad figured he was here to take back Peggy. If he could keep Garrett talking, it might give security time to arrive.
“I came for my wife, and you can’t stop me. I want you to stay away from her. She’s mine.”
Thad saw no reason to argue with him. “Her jaw’s broken. You need to let the doctors fix her first.” Garrett stepped forward with Zoey in tow.
In a slow, even motion, Thad raised his left arm away from his body. It might look like he was backing down, but his weapon was more accessible this way. “Let the woman go, and I’ll do what you ask.” Or not.
Peggy’s husband’s head shifted right then left, his jerky movements implying he was trying to figure out what to do. His jaw hardened a second before he swung the gun toward the nurse on one side and then at the doctor on the other. With Garrett temporarily distracted, Zoey struggled against the constraint. Garrett looked back at her and yanked his arm tighter across her throat. A gurgling sound escaped from her lips.
Thad wished like hell he could charge the asshole and beat the shit out of him, but attacking him with others close by would be stupid.
Zoey opened her mouth, probably to plead with him to do something, and all Thad could do was laser her with a stare to remain still. She narrowed her eyes and firmed her lips, acting as if he’d abandoned her. Her pain sliced him to the core.
The door behind Thad opened and a high-pitched grunt sounded. God damn it. He didn’t have to look behind him to know it was Peggy. How she had the strength to get out of bed, he didn’t know. From the way she’d held her pen, she was weak from all the drugs.
A slight thud sounded as if she’d hit the wall or worse the ground. In that one second, Garrett appeared to change his focus, and his arm loosened its hold around Zoey’s neck.
Thad drew his weapon, cocked the barrel, and took aim. The sharp click was enough to cause Garrett to return his gaze to Thad. Garrett squinted, snarled, and shot. The loud blast from Garrett’s gun reverberated off the hospital walls. The ache in Thad’s arm didn’t register for a long second, but when it did, his vision blurred, and world see
med to stand still. He refused to give in to the injury until he’d taken Garrett down.
“Move, Zoey,” Thad shouted.
As if each frame of Thad’s life moved in slow motion, Garrett’s arm recoiled and his eyes blinked closed. Zoey lifted her foot and kicked the man’s shin hard. He gritted his teeth and smashed Zoey in the head with the butt of the gun. She groaned and listed to the side about a foot. That shift gave Thad the window of opportunity he’d been looking for. He blinked to clear his pain-filled eyes and aimed carefully. His left arm shook from the effort, but he ignored the sharp ache.
Garrett swung his arm forward to get off another shot, but before he succeeded, Thad exhaled and pulled the trigger. His heart galloped, and he prayed he hadn’t hit her.
Garrett dropped like a dead weight, taking Zoey down with him. Blood covered her side. Oh, shit. Was she hit? When Garrett’s arm went slack, Zoey rolled off him. She tried to scramble to her feet, but she slipped on the blood and crashed down on her knees. Thad’s heart nearly stopped when she whimpered. Hopefully her cry was from fear and not one of pain.
He wanted to tell her that Garrett wasn’t getting up, that she was safe, but the words refused to form.
Seconds later, his brain cleared. “Everyone get out of here,” Thad said, waving his uninjured arm. Keeping his gaze on the downed man, Thad’s breaths came out fast. Blood gushed out of his wound.
As the others headed for safety, he stumbled toward Garrett and Zoey. Before he reached them, the doors on both ends of the corridor burst open, and a swarm of blue uniforms descended. He needed to make sure Zoey wasn’t hurt, but as he turned to find her, several nurses blocked his view.
“Easy, Detective,” said one of the male nurses. “Get him on the gurney.”
Another nurse held the wheels steady as a third person helped Thad up.
He jumped back down. They could take care of his wound in a minute. “I need to see if Zoey is okay.”
Cade Carter suddenly appeared before him. “Thad. It’s okay. Let the staff patch you up.”
He wasn’t hurt bad. Was he? “Is Zoey okay?” If he hit her, he’d never forgive himself.
“Go with these nurses, and I’ll find out.”
Thad wanted to check on her, but as he tried to get past Cade, three sets of arms held him down and his world turned black.
“I’m fine.” Zoey Donovan held up her hands to prevent the nurse from fussing with her again. Only then did she notice how much effort it took to keep them steady, so she lowered her palms to her stained pants. “I’m just bloody.”
Sarah, her nurse, dabbed Zoey’s temple to clean her wound. “You have a contusion.”
“I do?” Is that why her head pounded like she had a dozen people smashing her with hammers? Zoey batted the woman’s hand away to assess the damage herself and pressed the side of her head. When she lowered her hand, she hadn’t expected to see the sticky goo on her fingers. “Oh, my God. What happened? Did a bullet graze my head?”
She remembered that terrible man strangling her and Thad not allowing the creep to go somewhere, but the order of the events were hit and miss. Her stomach tumbled and her heart banged against her ribs at her lack of memory. Fuzzy images flitted across her brain.
“One of the nurses who was there said the man hit you with the butt of his gun. Did you black out?” Sarah pressed a cleansing pad again to the injury.
“I don’t think so.” There had been a nurse in the corridor? If she had blacked out, that would imply a concussion. Her stomach clenched, only now recalling that terrible man’s rancid body odor and foul breath that smelled of alcohol. She wrinkled her nose at the memory. One minute the man was holding her hostage and the next a gun had gone off right next to her head. Her ears still rang from the deafening sound. “I should have dropped to the ground if I’d passed out, right?”
“If he was holding you tight, you might not have fallen.”
Zoey rubbed her neck to ease the knot of tension that had gathered at the base of her skull. It was tender and probably bruised from where he’d held her. She searched her mind, but there were too many lapses. Now she understood what her patients who’d been in bad accidents had gone through.
Her mouth was dry from the anxiety. She chewed on her bottom lip and closed her eyes, hoping to recreate the incident. “After the gunshot, I remember the man who held me collapsed and took me down with him.” She opened her eyes. “I was alert, though. At least I think I was. It all happened so fast.” How many times had she heard that phrase before?
Sarah placed a bandage over the wound then patted her hand. “I’m going to schedule an MRI. I’ll be right back.” She stepped from the room and the door clicked close.
An MRI? Is it that bad? The air conditioning kicked on, and Zoey shivered. Her damp shirt clung to her. She groaned, partly from pain and the rest from frustration. She wanted to go home, soak in her new jetted tub, and forget this day ever happened.
What if her brain swelled though? If she was home, she might not be able to get help. At the frightening thought, she rubbed her palms over her closed eyes. Who the hell was that man and why had he grabbed her?
She slumped forward and rested her elbows on her knees. Why couldn’t she remember everything? It was like someone had cut out part of her memory.
A light knock sounded and the door opened. The chief medical officer, Dr. Hector Sanchez, breezed in, concern filling his face. “Dr. Donovan. I just heard about what happened. Are you all right?” Pain laced his tone.
“Yes. I’m a bit bruised, but I wasn’t shot.”
He moved in close and tilted her face to the side as if he had X-ray vision and could see through the bandage. “Those bruises on your neck. Where did you get them?”
While he wasn’t the head of the hospital, all administrators feared bad publicity. She detailed what had happened the best she could.
Dr. Sanchez shook his head. “If any of the staff here doesn’t give you the best care, you let me know, okay?”
The man was so sweet to take time out of his day to come see her. “Thank you.”
“Make sure you take off a few days and rest, you hear?”
Then she wouldn’t get paid since she wasn’t a hospital employee. She only rented the office space at LACE. “I will.” However, trying to treat her patients with a head injury wouldn’t do them any good.
He firmed his lips, spun on his heels, and left. She’d only seen the man at large hospital events, but he always came off as very sincere and kind.
“Knock, knock.”
She looked up and thought Dr. Sanchez had returned, but it was her best friend’s fiancé instead. “Cade!” Relief filled her. He might be able to shed some light on what happened after the doctors brought her down here. He was a detective for the Rock Hard Police Department, after all. “How did you get here so quickly?” He couldn’t have driven from downtown that fast. Or had more time passed than she realized? “Were you having lunch here with Amber?” His fiancée did work at the hospital.
“You guessed it. Amber had just headed back to work when I got the call about the hostage situation.” He studied her injuries. “How are you doing?”
Zoey pulled her soaked shirt away from her body to show him it wasn’t stuck to a wound. “It’s the other guy’s blood.”
“Good.” Cade stepped closer. “Neck’s red.”
She struggled to take a full breath. “He had me in some kind of chokehold.” She undid her top button to give her more air.
“What about that bandage on your head?”
She’d just told the story to Dr. Sanchez, but she bet she’d be retelling the series of events many more times before this was over. Her fingers shot to the wound to make sure it was real and not a dream. “He hit me with his gun.”
Cade pulled out a pad and paper. “I’ve been asked to take the lead on this case. How about you tell me what you remember?”
She was happy he understood she might have some holes in her story. “I
was on my way back to my office from the break room when… Oh, shit.”
“What is it?”
Zoey glanced around, hoping she still had the information with her. “I was carrying a folder when the man grabbed me. I must have dropped it. I can’t have anyone see those files.” A rush of panic raced through her, causing her voice to rise with each word. A prominent doctor’s career could be jeopardized if anyone read the contents.
She slipped for the exam table, but Cade held up a finger. He pulled out his phone and made a call. “Ethan, did you collect any papers on the floor next to McDonald? Good. I’m in the ER, room four. Can you bring them here when you get a chance?” He disconnected, looked up, and smiled. “All good.”
At the near disaster, she let out a big breath and hopped back up on the table. “Thank you.”
“Then what happened?”
“The man was waving his gun around, and when Thad tried to get him to release me, he became more agitated. Then I heard a shot. Or maybe it was two shots. I can’t remember.”
The nurse returned with a clean pair of scrubs. She halted and glanced between Zoey and Cade. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.”
He held up a hand. “I’ll catch up with Zoey later.”
“Thanks, Cade.” Having him here, even if it was to ask questions, helped settle her.
Sarah set the clean scrubs to next to her. “I thought you might want to wash up. These look like they’ll fit you.”
“They’ll be perfect.” Zoey tried to unbutton her blouse, but her fingers shook too hard. She disliked asking for help, but she needed to change worse than anything. “Can you help me? I’m sorry. My fingers don’t seem to be working. They’re cold.”
“Sure.”
Zoey took off her shirt with Sarah’s help, and her mind wandered back to when she’d first met Thad. He’d been covered in stage makeup to look like a dying cancer patient. After the sting operation ended, he’d stopped by to thank her for her role, but he was in and out so fast she hadn’t had time to find out much about him. He’d intrigued her, though. She’d hoped he’d call after that, but he never did.