by Radclyffe
Mica’s heart hammered hard against the inside of her ribs.
“Flynn?” Mica wet her dry lips. “Flynn, are you okay?”
Flynn’s eyelids flickered and she turned her head a tiny bit until the collar stopped her. “Yeah. You?”
“Good. I’m good.” Mica got her breath back and the pain around her heart lessened. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Did you kick me?” Flynn’s voice was hoarse, lower than it usually was.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, and there’s no reason for you to be sorry.” Flynn raised the hand that wasn’t strapped down and tugged at the collar on her neck. “Come on, Chris, I don’t need this. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Sorry, Flynn,” Chris said. “You know the drill. It looks like somebody played soccer with your head. The immobilizer stays on until Tory says it can come off.”
The male paramedic who’d been driving climbed into the back, and Mica gripped the stretcher for the trip into the clinic. The medics took Flynn out first.
“I want to go with her,” Mica called. “Let me out. I don’t need to be—”
Chris knelt by her side. “You’ll be inside in just a second. She’s in good hands. Nobody’s going to let anything happen to Flynn.”
“Yeah, sure.” Mica knew better. No one was ever safe. Anything could happen to Flynn, and no one would tell her.
*
Tory heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall outside her office. She didn’t have to see Reese’s face to know that was her. Reese might be a cop now, but she walked like a marine. Sharp, steady, perfectly even steps, as if she always knew her destination and never wavered. Warm heat flooded through Tory’s chest. The thing she loved best about Reese was how steady she always was. How sure and strong. Even when she was hurt and frightened, Reese never wavered.
“Incoming,” Reese said from the doorway.
“I heard the sirens. How bad?”
“Both walking wounded. I’ll leave the rest up to you.” Reese leaned against the doorway, her brow faintly furrowed. “You didn’t get much sleep. How are you feeling?”
Tory smiled. “Is this the first of the million times you plan to ask me that in the next nine months?”
Reese’s brows drew down further. “Try two million.”
Tory laughed. “I’m fine. If you’ll remember the last time, I—”
“I remember, Tor,” Reese said darkly.
Tory came around her desk and motioned Reese in. “Close the door.”
Reese pulled the door closed, and when she met Tory in the middle of the room, Tory pressed her palms to Reese’s chest and kissed her. “I’ve only got a second. I know you remember the last time. You remember how it ended. Try to remember how exciting it was, how miraculous, to feel the baby kick the first time, and think about Reggie and all she’s given us. I’m going to be fine. Promise me you’ll try not to worry.”
Reese slid her hand around the back of Tory’s neck and tugged her closer. “I can’t promise that. But I can promise I’ll enjoy every second of this pregnancy.”
“Well, maybe not the morning sickness part. I won’t ask that of you.” Tory kissed her again and stepped away. “I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll wait. I’ll need statements from them.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as you can see them.” Tory went into the hall and met Chris Connelly, one of the local EMTs, outside treatment room one. Another EMT was assisting a patient in treatment room two. “Which one first?”
“This one,” Chris said, indicating the room behind her. “The patient in two is stable—a few lacerations and abrasions, some blunt force trauma to her neck, but none of it looks too serious. Her vital signs are stable, no loss of consciousness.” She grimaced. “Flynn, on the other hand, took a beating. She was disoriented at the scene, but no documented loss of consciousness. She’s got a significant contusion on her right temple and localized right rib tenderness. Possibly fractures.”
“All right, I’ll start with her. Can one of you stay with the other patient just to be sure she remains stable?”
“Yeah, I’ll radio base we’re not available for calls until you give us the go-ahead.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I can wake Nita up, but by the time she gets here, I’ll probably have a chance to look at both of them.”
“No problem,” Chris said.
Tory walked over to Flynn and picked up the clipboard on the bottom of the bed. She scanned it quickly. Vital signs were all normal, although her pulse was rapid and her blood pressure high. An area over her right temple and cheekbone was swollen and discolored. She leaned down and squinted at the area. Not a fist. A shoe, most likely. Anger simmered but she pushed the distracting fury aside and rested her hand on Flynn’s wrist. Her pulse was bounding. Stress, fear, pain. “How are you feeling?”
“Not bad.” Flynn’s voice was reedy and thin.
“Show me where your chest hurts,” Tory said as she fit her stethoscope to her ears. Flynn covered an area on her lower right side, and Tory avoided the spot as she moved her stethoscope over Flynn’s lung fields. Breath sounds were present, but depressed. Flynn obviously wasn’t taking a deep breath. She set her stethoscope aside and pushed Flynn’s shirt up. A five- by eight-inch area over her right lower rib cage was mottled purple. She gently palpated the area, and Flynn stiffened, trying unsuccessfully to hide a wince. Tory didn’t feel any crepitus from air in the tissue or grating from shattered bone ends grinding together, but the degree of Flynn’s pain suggested a fracture. “We’ll need to X-ray you.”
“Have you seen Mica yet?”
“The other patient?”
“Yes.”
“Not yet. Mica. Wait a minute. The girl who was hit while riding her bicycle?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
Tory made a few notes on the clipboard. Red flags were waving from every corner. “That’s a pretty unlucky coincidence.”
“The driver of the van was from up-Cape,” Flynn said slowly. “This guy wasn’t from around here. Not related, I don’t think.”
“Well, you don’t need to figure it out for me. Reese will be talking to you in a little while. What we need to do now is get you X-rayed.”
“Can I talk to Mica first?”
“If it will keep her from running out again, yes. But she’ll have to come to you. I don’t want you moving around until I’ve seen your X-rays.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Let me finish looking at you, and then I’ll get her. Where else do you hurt?”
Flynn closed her eyes. “I think that’s about it.”
“That’s enough.”
Flynn nodded, saving her breath. Every inhalation was like swallowing fire, and her stomach, even though it was empty, was still in revolt. She did not want to vomit. All she wanted was to see Mica, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen unless she cooperated. The sooner she got her X-rays, the sooner she’d be able to see her. She needed to make sure Mica was all right, and she needed to make sure she didn’t disappear.
The trip to and from X-ray was an exercise in torture—every movement incited another surge of stabbing pain. Tory gave her some Percocet, and after a few minutes that started to help. Flynn concentrated on keeping her breathing even and her heart rate quiet. Prayer was like meditation for her, and after so many years, she could easily slip into that self-contained zone where mind and body existed on separate planes. The meditation helped dull the burning pain, but knowing she’d see Mica after the procedure helped even more.
Chris, who had volunteered to transport her to the X-ray bay, wheeled her back to the treatment room just as Tory came out of the room opposite.
“Mica?” Flynn asked.
“She’ll be over in a minute. I’m going to go read your films.” Tory nodded to Chris. “Thanks. I think you and Vince can take off.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” Chris leaned over the stretcher to Flynn. “You take it easy,
you hear? I don’t want to see your face at work for a few days.”
“I’ll call the captain in the morning,” Flynn said.
“I’ll take care of it.” Chris squeezed Flynn’s shoulder. “Just get some rest.”
“Hey,” Mica said, sidling up to the stretcher. A red, angry swath of bruises encircled her neck. Fingerprints.
Flynn pictured the shadowy figure clamping an arm across Mica’s throat and dragging her away. She reached for Mica’s hand and when Mica immediately took hers, Flynn’s pounding pulse settled. “Did he hurt you?”
“Nah,” Mica said with a shrug. “He was too busy whaling on you.”
Flynn smiled. “I’m glad I could offer a diversion.”
Mica stroked Flynn’s arm, her dark eyes wide and worried. “He really did a number on you. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey. Not your fault.”
Mica bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to say something, but she remained quiet.
“When we get out of here,” Flynn said, “will you tell me what’s going on?”
Mica flicked her gaze to the door as if worried someone might overhear. “You don’t want to know. There’s nothing you can do and—well, you see what kind of trouble you can get into just being around me.”
Flynn gripped her fingers more firmly, sensing her wanting to withdraw. “You weren’t the one making the trouble. Don’t run out on me.”
“You ask a lot.”
“Do I? Do you mind?”
“I don’t know.” Mica frowned. “I just don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that.”
“Because you don’t seem to have much sense.”
Flynn smiled and tried not to laugh. She couldn’t breathe enough to laugh. “You know, you really make me feel special.”
Mica grinned. “Good.” She blushed. “’Cause, you know, you are.”
“Mica,” Flynn said seriously, “the police will want to talk to us. Can you do that?”
“Sure,” Mica said quickly. “Why not.”
Flynn recognized the bravado for what it was, an attempt to cover up her uncertainty. “I know these people. You can trust them.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“I wish…”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Look, when this is over, I want you to come home with me.”
“Um, I think your timing needs a little work.”
“Not that way,” Flynn said. “I don’t think you ought to be alone. And besides, I’m not going to be very functional and I could use the company.”
Mica narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re playing me now.”
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Mica ran her fingers through Flynn’s hair. “Maybe I feel a little bit sorry for you.”
“Thanks.” Flynn leaned her cheek against Mica’s palm, relieved that Mica had agreed to stay with her. Whoever the guy was, he was still out there, and Mica was vulnerable. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her.
Allie strode through the door. “Hey, Flynn. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Flynn tugged Mica a little closer, afraid she would bolt. “A few bumps and bruises is all.”
“Uh-huh.” Allie didn’t look like she believed her, her cool gaze assessing Mica. “Dr. King said it would be okay if we got your statements now. I’ll take you,” she said to Mica, “first. Come with me.”
Mica glanced at Flynn, and Flynn nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Wordlessly, Mica followed Allie from the room. Flynn fought down a wave of fear that she wouldn’t see Mica again. She tried telling herself she was overreacting, but she knew better. Sometimes people walked out the door and never came back.
Chapter Seventeen
Tory sat at her desk finishing her notes. She looked up when Reese appeared in the doorway, talking on her phone.
“Hold on a second,” Reese said to whoever she had on the line and looked at Tory. “Status report?”
“I’ll fill you in when you’re done.” Tory gathered the files and moved over to the sofa in the small sitting area across from her desk. A minute later, Reese joined her.
“Problem?” Reese asked.
“No. They’re both stable and capable of speaking with you.”
“Allie said you gave her the green light. She’s going to talk to the girl first. I was on my way to talk to Flynn.” Reese crossed her ankle over her knee and leaned back, stretching out one arm along the back of the sofa until her fingertips touched Tory’s shoulder. “Something’s bothering you.”
Tory grasped Reese’s hand and threaded her fingers through Reese’s. “Are you thinking one of them might have been targeted?”
“It’s certainly possible. Going by the statistics, though, a random assault—possible robbery, even gay bashing—would be more likely.”
Tory stroked Reese’s palm, thinking about Mica. The girl hadn’t run away this time, but everything about her screamed that she wanted to. She rarely made eye contact, her answers were short and uninformative, and her manner belligerent—at least on the surface. She had an edge of anger, all right, but her attitude seemed fueled more by fear than anything else, and that bothered Tory. Her instinct was always to heal, and while she was able to tend to Mica’s body, she hadn’t been able to help her escape whatever monster was chasing her. “My ethical responsibilities are getting a little tangled here. You know, patient confidentiality.”
“This is an official police investigation,” Reese said. “We need to know what’s going on, especially if one of them is a target. This could’ve been a homicide investigation. They were lucky.”
“I know that. But I’m also their doctor, and our conversations are confidential.”
“True.” Reese’s tone was casual. She wasn’t pushing, but she wouldn’t. Not just because she was Tory’s partner, but because Reese believed in the fundamental merit of rules and regulations. She would entrust her life to the hierarchy that created order and safety out of chaos. “You’ll have to decide how much is confidential and what is essential for us to know in order to see that this doesn’t happen again.”
“I’m sorry,” Tory said. “I wish I did have something substantial to point you toward, but I don’t. I’m just really worried that the next time one of them shows up here, they’re going to be a lot more seriously injured.”
“I intend to see that doesn’t happen,” Reese said. “I appreciate your impressions. Tell me what you can, I’ll ask what more I need to know, and you answer whatever is appropriate. You’ve got good judgment. I trust you.”
“Thank you.” Tory collected her charts and sat back down. “I can give you a physical update. They were both viciously assaulted, although Flynn was the more seriously injured.” She ran through her physical findings for each patient. “On the basis of this, if one of them is a target, I think it’s Mica.”
“Why, if Flynn took the brunt of the beating?”
“From what I’ve put together from the two of them, it sounded as if the assailant was focused on Mica, and Flynn got in the way. She was…”
“Collateral damage.” Reese’s expression never changed, but she had to be thinking about the troops she had lost.
“I hate that term,” Tory said.
“So do I. What you’ve told me is very helpful. What else?”
“Mica’s ID says she’s from New York City, but when I mentioned a few places, she didn’t seem to be very familiar with any of them. Doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s not being truthful, but I suspect both her name and her address are false.”
“That jibes with what we’ve found out so far.” Reese regarded Tory steadily. “Any distinguishing marks or characteristics?”
Tory hesitated. “She has scars indicative of knife wounds—one on her lower abdomen, several on her arms, one on her back. I can’t really tell now how serious they might have been,
but she’s no stranger to violence. She has a number of tattoos, most of which are actually very well done. The large one on her back says…” She looked at her notes. “La Mara. Someone’s name, I imagine. The others—”
“Wait a minute,” Reese cut in. “Two words…La Mara?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a number?”
“Huh.” Tory pictured the design in her mind. “I didn’t see it initially, but yes, the scroll after the words that I thought was decorative is actually a fairly complex and quite beautiful thirteen.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the information.” Reese stood up, her face settling into the stark lines Tory recognized as ultimate focus. Reese was now on a mission.
“This is serious, isn’t it,” Tory said, rising with her.
“It could be.” Reese brushed the backs of her fingers over Tory’s cheek. “Wait here until I can have someone take you home. I’m going to go into the office in a few minutes and make a few calls.”
“All right. I’ve got plenty to do until you have an officer who’s free.” Tory slid her arms around Reese’s waist and kissed her quickly. “Can you make it home for breakfast? Pick up the baby on the way? We might as well let her sleep the rest of the night with Kate and Jean.”
“I’ll be there.” Reese looked at her watch and frowned. “Why don’t you catch some sleep while you’re waiting for a ride? The paperwork can keep.”
Tory smiled. “Spoken like a true cop who I happen to know hates paperwork. If I get tired, I’ll nap. Be careful.”
“I will.” Reese kissed her. “I love you.”
Tory waited until the sound of Reese’s footsteps ended with the opening and closing of one of the treatment room doors. She closed her own door and stretched out on the sofa with Mica’s chart balanced on her knees. As she completed her notes, she thought of the tattoo that had meant something to Reese and that Reese had very carefully not explained.