by Terri Reed
“Because you crave adrenaline just like the rest of us,” the older woman replied. “When this place starts to really hop we all feel a lot more alive.”
“I suppose you’re right.” As far as Daniella was concerned, staying awake half the night was profoundly better than working days when so many more reporters and photographers were liable to be on the job. The last thing she needed was to become an unwilling star of some viral video. She’d matured and changed her hair color from blond to brunette, long to shorter, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be recognized by the same criminal element that had caused her to enter witness protection in the first place.
“Prepare for casualties,” someone shouted. “There’s just been an incident at the Washington Monument!”
Daniella froze for a heartbeat, then jumped to her feet and hurried down the hallway to the ambulance receiving area, where the majority of the night shift was gathering around a police scanner.
“Was it an accident?” one of the young orderlies asked.
“Doesn’t sound like it. The first responders pegged it as a bomb,” someone else answered.
Daniella clenched her fists. Her stomach churned. She suddenly saw herself as a frightened teenager again and pictured her father being arrested for the bombing death of her mother. Ten long years had passed since then, yet those terrible memories were as vivid as if everything had just happened.
Her initial disbelief about her mother’s fate had quickly been supplanted with righteous anger, especially when she’d heard her estranged father begin to laugh. Laugh! And so she had done the only thing she could. She had mustered her courage and agreed to testify against him in court.
While most of the ER staff remained gathered around the scanner, Daniella eased away and headed for the hospital chapel.
Until the victims of this current attack arrived for treatment, the best thing she could do was pray. Fervently. The way she had prayed for her mother—even though she’d known in her deepest heart that Mama’s survival was impossible.
*
Being incapacitated made Isaac frustrated and angry. He’d repeatedly waved off paramedics, sending them to tend to others. As the area was systematically cleared, however, he realized he was eventually going to have to let the medics look at his throbbing leg.
Detective Delvecchio approached. “I wondered where you’d gotten to. Is Abby all right?”
“Yes.” Isaac tried to rise and was stopped by the other man’s hand on his shoulder. “Relax, man.”
“I can’t. There’s work to do. What if there’s a second bomb?”
“If there is, your team will find it. Some of them are sweeping the area now. So far, so good.”
Isaac heaved a sigh. “Thank God—literally.”
“I have been. Particularly since there don’t seem to be any life-threatening injuries.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Yeah, and a surprise. So, are you ready to go to the hospital?”
The detective offered a hand and Isaac took it, grimacing as he rose. Standing wasn’t too painful as long as he kept weight off his injured leg by leaning on David’s shoulder.
“If you can make it to my car I’ll drive you to the ER.”
“That’s against protocol.”
“Your choice,” Delvecchio said, arching a brow. “All the ambulances are busy. I consider this an extenuating circumstance, but it’s up to you. Do you want to wait?”
“No.” Isaac leaned slightly to glance at his calf. Blood had stuck the dark fabric of his uniform to his lower leg but seemed to have stopped flowing for the present.
“Why don’t you help me to my car so I don’t get yours dirty?”
“That’s what plastic sheets are for,” the detective said with a slight smile. “There’s no way I’m letting you drive in your condition. I saw you send the medics to other victims and I figured it was high time you got some TLC yourself.”
Isaac managed a smile. “No offense, buddy, but I’d rather have a pretty nurse taking care of me than a bossy cop like you.”
Chuckling, Delvecchio slipped his arm around Isaac’s waist for added support and started to move toward his unmarked car. “I’ll see what I can do about finding the right nurse when we get to the hospital. What about Abby?”
“I’ll handle my dog. You just get me to a doctor who can sew me up so I can go back to work.”
“You’re pushing it again.”
Isaac sobered, glancing over his shoulder. “I know. But I feel responsible for what happened tonight and I intend to catch whoever did this.”
“I’ve already ordered every news crew to give me copies of their raw footage. My men are also collecting the shots taken by bystanders so we can run facial recognition on anyone we don’t know.”
Pausing, Isaac gave the man a serious look. “Don’t just concentrate on strangers. Watch the politicians, too, particularly Harland Jeffries and his staff. Considering his long-standing reputation in dirty politics, I wouldn’t put it past him to try to create sympathy by pretending to be exposed to possible injury. It wouldn’t be the first lie he’d ever told.”
Isaac got a sinking feeling when David shook his head. “I strongly doubt that’s what took place tonight,” the detective said.
“Why? Was he hurt in the blast?”
“No. He may be a master manipulator but he was complaining of chest pains when they hauled him away. If this bomb scare was supposed to boost his chances of getting his new crime bill passed and it caused him to have a heart attack instead, he badly miscalculated.”
*
Daniella had been working behind the scenes while one of the on-call doctors did triage on the victims. None seemed badly hurt and outside of a little first aid, a few stitches and a tranquilizer here and there, they had been easy to treat.
She was cleaning up one of the exam cubicles and hoping she could avoid the reporters who were still milling around the lobby when the head nurse separated a gap in the heavy curtains.
“I’ve got another victim here—brought in by private vehicle. All the doctors are busy and we’re out of wheelchairs. Take care of him for me, will you?”
“Of course.”
Daniella relieved the other nurse and slipped her arm around the uniformed officer’s waist, starting to guide him. She was careful to avert her face for the brief moments when she was exposed to the public, hoping no cameras would capture her image. That was when she noted the leash in the patient’s hand. “I’m terribly sorry. You can’t bring a dog into the hospital.”
“This isn’t a dog.”
“Sure looks like one.”
“Nope. This is officer Abby of the Capitol K-9 Unit. See her vest?”
“She’s still a dog.”
“I beg to differ. You permit service dogs, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course, but…”
“Then you have to allow Abby in. Besides, I’m injured and she’s my partner. She goes where I go.”
“Do you promise to take the flak if the hospital administration finds out and pitches a fit?”
“No problem. I’m already wearing a flak vest under my jacket.” He glanced toward the foyer, where Delvecchio was speaking to additional reporters. “Don’t I have to fill out paperwork?”
The direct answer was yes. Daniella chose to handle it another way in order to keep her distance from the news crews. “I can help you with those details while you hold your dog—I mean your partner.”
She helped him lie down and lifted his boots to rest on the narrow exam table. When she picked up a PDA and began poking its screen with a stylus, she wished her hands would stop shaking. “Your name, please?”
“Isaac Black. How long have you worked in ER?” he asked, frowning.
When his fascinating, dark gaze locked with her green eyes she could barely force herself to look away. “Seven years. Why?”
“Because you’re acting awfully nervous. You aren’t afraid of dogs, are you?”
“Don’t be silly. I love animals.”
“Then what’s wrong? If you had already examined my leg I’d think I was hurt worse than I’d imagined.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Mr.—I mean Officer—Black.”
“May as well call me Isaac. It solves lots of problems.”
“Fine. Can you put the dog on a chair long enough for you to be treated?”
“Of course. If I’d been able to drive myself over here I’d have left her at headquarters. Unfortunately, I was overruled.”
“A wise decision,” Daniella said. She laid the tablet aside while her patient pointed to a chair and the beagle obediently jumped into it.
“I’m impressed,” she said. “My cat barely comes when I call him for supper.”
“Not surprising. Cats have devious minds.”
If he hadn’t been smiling at her, Daniella might have thought he was serious. “That’s debatable.”
The resulting twinkle in his dark eyes was so appealing she had to force herself to look away. He was taller than most of the men she knew, and far more muscular. His smile was amiable enough, yet there was an aura about him that made her think of danger. Either that or she was simply being influenced by the disquieting thoughts that had begun the moment she’d heard the news of an explosion.
Once she had recorded Isaac’s necessary preliminary information, she slit the leg of his uniform pants the rest of the way to his knee, folded back the fabric and carefully removed his boot.
“Well? How bad is it?” he asked.
“The doctor will make that assessment when he gets here.”
“Let me put it this way.” Isaac reached for her wrist and clasped it, gently but firmly, sending another shiver zinging up her spine. “If I just bandage it up and go back to work, will I be sorry?”
“I would certainly think so.”
He heaved a telling sigh. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“You got hurt at the monument, like the others, right?”
“Right. Abby and I were there to do a safety inspection of the area. She couldn’t have missed detecting the bomb. It had to be placed there after we made our sweep. There’s no other possible explanation.”
Her brain absorbed very little more after he said bomb. That word had been a trigger for a surge of negative emotions for many years, and this instance was no different. Latent fear gripped her heart, stilled her movements and turned her fingers to stone. It wasn’t until she felt his warm touch on her forearm that she snapped out of it. Sort of.
“You okay?” The dark, dancing eyes had narrowed and he was studying her as if she were a specimen under a microscope.
“I’m fine.”
“You keep telling me that but every now and then I see something else.”
“Must be your imagination,” Daniella assured him.
The expression on the police officer’s face was clear. He didn’t believe her. And little wonder since she was anything but fine. Matter of fact, at this moment, all she wanted to do was run out the door, disappear into the night, leave everything behind and never look back.
Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781460385043
Headline: Murder
Copyright © 2015 by Mags Storey
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