What on earth had Nancy gotten herself into? The FBI hadn’t found anything suspicious in the Claymore Investment books they’d examined. Maybe what she’d found was in Paxton’s records, but that would mean the Baltimore business man was in bed with either Ramirez or the Russian mob. Surely someone would’ve noticed that?
The sound of the ICU floor door opening startled Neil, and he jumped away guiltily.
Anderson and two FBI agents Neil knew well entered the unit, followed by two forensic technicians, their bags swinging in their hands as they walked. Two heavily armed marshals stayed outside near the elevators, their M16s ready if needed. Getting past those guys wouldn’t be easy.
Anderson, white hair in disarray, wore dark glasses, a suit, and the black trench coat that was his signature. He looked more like a crime boss than a marshal.
“How is she?” he asked as soon as he was close enough to speak without raising his voice.
“Her heart stopped, but the doctor brought her back. He’s still in there. The young nurse she shot”—he indicated the assassin’s body—“is in surgery. Here’s her gun.” He held out the weapon. “My prints are on it. She’s gloved. I don’t know who she is, but my guess would be a Russian assassin. I heard the accent when she spoke. I just didn’t put it all together. My fault. I haven’t been in the game since this all happened.”
A tech reached for the gun and bagged it.
“And now?” Anderson asked.
“Now, I am. Nobody’s going to get by me again.” Neil’s voice was hard and cold.
“Good.” Anderson removed his sunglasses.
Neil recoiled at the fury in his boss’s eyes, grateful it wasn’t directed at him.
“Facial recognition tagged her right away. The state department had her on a watch for Interpol. They have no idea how she got into the country. She’s Olga Gusakova, sometimes called the Angel of Death. She’s a mercenary without ties to any particular organization, which at the moment doesn’t help us much. Poison is her specialty.”
“I’m sorry, Neil. It seems you were right and your wife was the target,” Mahoney said, leaving the body and stepping over to them. “What was she involved in?”
Neil bristled at the man’s tone. “I can tell you right now it wasn’t anything illegal. If someone is trying to kill her, it isn’t because of anything she’s done, but rather something they’ve done, and that she’s discovered.”
“I didn’t mean to imply she was at fault,” Mahoney backpedaled. “Can you tell us why she was in that restaurant?”
Neil swallowed his anger. Losing control wouldn’t help his case or Nancy’s. These were the good guys, even if he neither liked nor trusted them, but he needed them on his side.
“Nancy’s a forensic accountant and sometimes does freelance work for lawyers. When she starts looking into things, she doesn’t leave a stone unturned. We thought she might’ve been targeted because of Claymore Investments, but I think this is directly related to the divorce case itself—Paxton versus Paxton.”
“Mrs. Paxton was one of the victims, right?”
“She was. They were sitting at the same table. If you look at Nancy’s driver’s license, you’ll see the women really resembled one another. There’s got to be a connection between Paxton and Claymore Investments, and Nancy must’ve discovered hidden assets. Paxton maintained his wife wasn’t supposed to be there—was really broken up about her death. Whoever killed her may have mistaken her for Nancy. There was no way Melissa Paxton could’ve survived her injuries.”
Mahoney nodded. “She took three rounds point blank in the face. I’ll have someone talk to Paxton as soon as we can. The police cleared him of wanting his wife dead, but this puts him back on the table.”
“I suggest you take a good look at B. J. Pratt, as well. He’s the man’s lawyer. Both he and his client just happened to be late for a meeting they called.”
“Noted. Now, can you walk us through what happened here?”
Neil described the events leading to the shooting, his heart in his throat when he was forced to admit Nancy had been non-responsive again. How many times could a person cheat death like that?
“Is there anything else you can think of?” Mahoney asked, making notes in the small notepad he carried. Sometimes paper and pencil still beat out electronics.
“Just this.”
Neil handed him the access card. Mahoney turned it over and frowned.
“Where does this come from?”
“I found it on her. It’s probably how she got on the floor. Most likely it belongs to the guy who supervises the hospital computers—specifically those feeding images to the monitors at the nurse’s station. It looks like they’re on a loop of some kind. Send someone down there to have a look. Either Mr. Ashman is a coconspirator, or he’s a casualty.”
“I agree.” Mahoney took out his phone and moved away to make his call.
“I’m really sorry, Neil. Will she be okay?” Anderson asked.
Neil blinked away at the moisture in his eyes and shook his head. “How can she be after everything that’s happened to her?”
He stared in the direction of Nancy’s room. The door opened, and Doctor Howard came into the hallway. His fists were clenched and his body shook with fury. Even a blind man would be able to tell the doctor was on the warpath.
“Can we go in?” asked one of the techs.
“Yes, but be quick about it. Neil can talk you through anything you need to know, but I’m sure you’ll figure it all out,” Anderson said.
“What’s going on here?” Doctor Howard interrupted and the techs hurried away afraid someone might tell them they couldn’t do their jobs.
“You told me the danger was over,” the doctor said, his voice laced with fury, “and now I’ve got a nurse who may or may not be dead, and a patient who almost died.”
“We’ll explain in a minute, doctor.” Neil’s voice was cold steel. “How’s my wife?”
The doctor tried to control his anger, but it was evident in the scowl he gave Neil and his tone of voice.
“She’s stable, no thanks to you people.”
His words wounded Neil as little else could have. He swallowed his guilt and shame and listened to the doctor’s words.
“I’ve increased the percentage of oxygen she’s getting, but she can’t keep doing this. By some miracle, she survived this latest episode, but I honestly don’t understand how or why. At the moment, her heartbeat is strong and steady and her blood pressure’s back to normal. By the way, I had all her fluids changed.” He handed Anderson a syringe, identical to the ones Neil had taken from the assassin’s pockets.
“We found it on the floor under the bed,” the doctor continued. “It isn’t one of ours. Whoever that woman was, we think she may have injected this into the IV drug bag, but she didn’t understand the Smart Infusion system we use. Nancy wasn’t due to receive more meds for another half hour, so the port stayed closed. One of the nurses will give you the bags shortly. Since I’ve stopped the sedative, Nancy should wake up on her own tonight or early tomorrow. If she doesn’t wake up, that’ll give us an answer, too. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
Neil closed his eyes.
He counted to five, and tried to put on a brave front, but when he opened them, the looks on the faces of both men told him he hadn’t done a very good job of it. Who would, given these exact circumstances?
Anderson turned to him and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. For a man who tended to keep his distance, the gesture spoke volumes.
“Go to your wife. I’ve got this. We’re taking her out of here as soon as we can.”
Neil nodded, turned, and left the men arguing behind him, their voices loud enough to wake the dead.
“Taking her out of here?” Doctor Howard cried. “Are you crazy? She almost died.”
“And that’s why she needs to leave. As you’ve just said, she might not survive another attempt.”
Anderson’s voice was cold and
deadly. He would brook no argument.
Grateful to be spared this fight, Neil headed toward Nancy’s room.
“I need this area cleared, now,” Anderson’s voice was firm. “No one remains on this floor except one nurse and yourself. This is a crime scene.”
“You’re insane! This is a hospital. You can’t throw your weight around…”
Neil shook his head as he listened to Doctor Howard’s rant. Unfortunately, just because they’d killed one assassin, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another. Once the doctor understood everyone in this area could be in danger, Neil was sure he would do whatever he was asked.
Chapter Eight
Head down, Lynn came out of Nancy’s room and bumped into Neil, almost dropping the bedpan she carried, grabbing his arm for support. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. They put that window in the door for a reason. I really need to start paying attention to it.”
“That’s okay,” he said, holding her by both arms, making sure she was steady on her feet. “What’s in there?” His chin indicated the bedpan.
“The IV lines and medication bags attached to her Smart Pump. Doctor Howard told me to bring them out after I’d changed everything.”
Neil nodded, visions of the empty syringe on the doctor’s palm playing through his mind, making him cringe.
“How is she?”
“She’s got to have one hell of a guardian angel,” Lynn said, her deep brown eyes huge, her brows raised, “but it looks like she’s going to make it.”
He smiled sadly. “She’s a big believer in angels. I guess she’s right. Someone has to be on her side.” Especially when it wasn’t him.
The nurse bobbed her head before hurrying down the darkened hallway toward the sound of Anderson and the doctor arguing. Entering the room, Neil let the door close behind him, muting the voices from the hallway.
The two forensic techs were on their knees scrubbing the floor, removing the last of the assassin’s blood. There was no way housekeeping would come into this room as long as Nancy was here. He walked over to the window and reached for the cellphone he’d left on the ledge, stunned to realize just over an hour had passed since Todd and Meredith had left.
Damn. What’s wrong with me?
If whoever had tried to kill Nancy thought Meredith might know something ... He speed dialed Todd.
The man answered on the third ring.
“What’s up?”
“Is Meredith still with you?” he asked, too concerned to hide his anxiety.
“Yeah. Her plane’s been delayed. What’s wrong?” The alarm in Todd’s voice matched his own.
Neil ran his left hand through his disheveled hair. “Someone just tried to kill Nancy, and if they realize Meredith hooked Nancy up with Jackson, they may think she knows more than she does.”
“Shit! Is she okay?” Todd asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Okay? How can anybody be okay after an attempt on their life?” he snapped angrily. “Sorry Todd, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m so pissed at myself right now there’s no room to be annoyed with anyone else. She’s alive, no thanks to me. Doris was shot. She’s in surgery.”
Todd cursed again. “I’ll take Merry to the safe house in Delaware for now. It’s the best I can do.”
“Be careful,” Neil said, lowering his voice. “The players have changed. Make sure you aren’t followed. Our visitor was a Russian assassin.”
Todd whistled. “The Russians? Damn. It looks like I’ve got a few more questions for our old friend now, and he’d better not even think of lying to me. I’ll be in touch.”
Neil ended the call and turned back to the bed.
“We’re done, inspector,” the technician said, closing her case and picking up a plastic evidence bag. “She’s all yours.”
“Thanks.”
Returning to his usual place on the right side of the bed, Neil moved the chair on which he normally sat as close to the bed as he could get it and turned it to face the door. Grasping Nancy’s hand in his left one, he pulled out his Glock with the right. Anderson hadn’t asked for it, and he wasn’t going to volunteer his weapon. He rested the gun on his thigh. No one would get close enough to hurt her again.
“That legion of angels looking after you deserve a raise,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a damn good thing they were on the job because I obviously had my head shoved up my ass. I can’t believe I left you like that. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I didn’t question her. What a schmuck. And I’m sworn to protect.” He continued shaking his head, his voice clogged with emotion. “That was the kind of rookie screw up that could’ve gotten us both killed. I promise you it won’t happen again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. She may have gotten by me, but I can guarantee you no one else will. We can’t get out of here soon enough for me. You know how I hate hospitals. This place is making me age a whole lot faster than I should.”
The door opened and Mahoney, the last person Neil wanted to talk to, strutted over to the bed, as if someone had just named him King Shit of Turd Island.
“I’m in charge of this case,” he bragged. “How is she doing?” He stopped at the foot of the bed, too close for comfort as far as Neil was concerned.
“She’s holding her own,” Neil answered, his hand still firmly gripping hers, but he lowered his pistol. “The doctor’s stopped the Propofol that was keeping her in the coma, and she should start to come out of it in three or four hours. She’s been in and out a few times before this last incident, but she’s still in a lot of pain.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about that, but let’s hope when she does come to, she can tell us why someone is so determined to see her dead. I’ll be back later to question her.”
Neil’s spine stiffened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Give her a day or two to get used to things.”
“Get some rest, Neil. You aren’t thinking straight,” Mahoney said, putting his hands on the edge of the bed. “The sooner I get answers from her, the sooner I can put this to bed, pardon the pun. My job is to solve the case. Yours is to keep anyone else from trying to kill her. I’ll talk to them about giving you extra help. Do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
Neil swallowed his retort, allowing the dig to bite as Mahoney intended. Instead, he nodded.
The FBI agent left the room and as the door closed behind him, the last of the adrenalin slipped from Neil’s body, leaving him spent and weak. Like a sinking ship, he listed to the left and rested his head against the mattress, impotent tears coursing down his cheeks once more. He’d almost lost her, and this time, like in the past, it had been his own damn fault. Mahoney might be an ass, but he was right about one thing. Neil needed to do his job, and he needed to do it better than he’d ever done it before. The price of failure was far too high to contemplate.
* * *
Nancy awakened slowly, moving farther and farther away from the comforting grayness that had been her refuge from the agony even though she wanted to stay there. Eyes barely open, she acknowledged the ache in her chest as if someone had been pounding on her ribcage, and it felt like a herd of elephants were using her head as a trampoline.
It was light in the room, although the drapes had been drawn to keep the brightness of the sun out. Memories of the last time she’d roused flooded her, and she cried out, the sound muffled by her oxygen mask, now firmly back in place. In the background, the beeps and blips of the monitors played their familiar tune.
Someone had tried to kill her. She hadn’t imagined that. Struggling to sit up, she collapsed against the pillow, groaning as the pain flooded her once more. Her fear increased as the images of what had happened replayed themselves in her head. Neil had been there. He’d known the woman, spoken to her, and then he’d left her alone to be murdered by … by whom? Why? Breathing was difficult in spite of the oxygen flowing through her mask. Panic welled up inside her. Why would anyone want her dead?
“It’s o
kay, sweetheart. I’m here.” Neil said, his voice filled with concern and excitement. “Get Doctor Howard. She’s waking up.”
The blips on the machines grew louder, closer together. Hundreds of questions rushed through her mind.
Neil’s hand trembled as he grasped hers.
“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes wider. In the soft light bathing the room, she gazed at Neil standing beside the bed, close enough for her to read the concern and anxiety on his face. Scanning the area, she saw they were alone. Where was her mother? She needed her now more than ever.
The door opened, pulling her gaze to it. Disappointment flooded her. Despite the fact that the shapes were indistinct, she knew these people were strangers.
Closing her eyes, she sought her sanctuary.
“Look at me,” a man’s voice ordered.
Compelled to obey, she turned her head toward the sound, the movement increasing her soreness. He stood too far away for her to see clearly, a black mass against the brighter drapes.
“I’m Doctor Howard. I’ve been taking care of you. It’s nice to see you awake. I’m sure there are all sorts of questions and concerns running through your mind.”
She swallowed what little saliva she had and tried to speak.
“Lynn, take off her oxygen mask for a few minutes, will you?”
Nancy took a deep breath, but the tightness in her chest made the effort difficult. She tried to speak again.
“Where?” she managed to croak, the word all but unrecognizable, as if her brain and her mouth were having trouble communicating.
“Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”
She frowned, but her face was stiff and uncooperative. What the hell was she doing in Baltimore with someone trying to kill her?
“Not … safe.” This time the words were somewhat clearer as they squawked their way out of her dry mouth, making her sound like a two-year old learning to speak.
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