by Ronica Black
“I think he’s dead.”
“Shit.” She grabbed her head. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Bea, help me get her in the car.”
“No. No way. I’m done.” She tugged on her own hair in frustration. “We got a dead cop, Brynn. A fucking dead cop. You’re soaked in blood; we both have guns. What the fuck do you think they’re gonna do to us when they catch us? Give us awards?”
Vander moaned again in Brynn’s arms. The blood was pulsing out of her.
“Fine. Stay here. I’ll drive her myself.” Brynn maneuvered Vander into the backseat and pulled a tank top from her bag of meager possessions. She folded it and pressed it into the wound. Vander winced and made a noise of protest.
“Shh, hang tough. We’re getting you some help.” Brynn was surprised at her own voice. It was calm, soothing. She was nurturing the cop just like she had everyone else in her life.
Bea climbed in behind the wheel, cussing and carrying on. She slammed the door shut.
“I’m not staying here with a dead cop,” she said.
“Close the passenger door,” Brynn said. “I’m staying back here to help her.” Her mind was made up. Vander was not going to die on her watch. She pressed into the wound and supported her head. Vander stared at her as Bea closed the door and threw the car into gear.
“Williams?” she asked.
Brynn nodded. Vander tensed and started to panic, but Brynn held her hand and squeezed. “It’s okay. We’re going to the hospital.”
Vander licked dry lips and her sky blue eyes focused. “My partner…”
“Shh, everything’s okay. Just hang on.”
“This is crazy,” Bea said. “God damned crazy.”
“Just drive.” Vander was still watching her.
“My dog,” she said and then swallowed. “He’s home alone. If I don’t make it…take care of him.” Her breath shuddered, and Brynn stroked her face to calm her.
“He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” Brynn said. Vander licked her lips again and nodded. A tear slipped down her face. Brynn had never noticed before how incredibly beautiful she was. Almost angelic with white-blond hair and pale eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Try not to worry,” Brynn said. “It’s all okay. You’re safe.”
Vander closed her eyes, and Brynn held her hand as Bea sped on.
“She gonna make it?” Bea asked, eyes looking in the rearview.
“If we hurry.”
Bea gunned it, and Brynn held Vander in her arms, squeezed her hand, and watched over her as she fought for her life. Brynn did it all without an agenda or a second thought and wondered if she would return to prison the very day she was released. Maybe Mary Jo was right after all.
Chapter Two
“What’s her name?” Kat Vander turned her head and opened her eyes. There was noise all around her, and she wanted to fall back to peaceful sleep. A sharp pain in her shoulder made her want to cry out, and her chest and abdomen felt as though they’d been punched with brass knuckles. A woman in blue scrubs was holding her hand and touching her face, asking her to focus. She tried to look warm, but Kat could see the deep lying seriousness.
“Vander…uh…Sergeant Vander,” someone said to her left. Kat moved her eyes to the woman gripping her other hand.
“Williams?”
Brynn Williams, who was covered in blood, nodded.
What was a Williams girl doing here?
But there was no time to think or remember, for the woman in scrubs was tapping her cheek.
“Sergeant, Sergeant, look at me.”
Kat did.
“That’s it. Focus on me, okay? My name is Harriet. I need you to try and stay awake.” Harriet was joined by others dressed similarly, and they moved like bees swarming a hive. Kat realized she was the reason why.
She watched in silence as they stripped her and searched for other wounds. They were talking, shouting, poking, and prodding. Bullets, bullets, bullets. That was all they cared about.
Blood. It was all over her. Blood, they were shouting for it. Blood, it was brought in in a clear bag and hung on a pole. They poked. Blood in to replace blood out.
She wanted to tell them her blood type, but she was too weak to think, to talk. She looked back to Williams who had released her and was backing away. She held her gaze, wanting her to stay. Something about the look in her eyes. A focus, a determination. A will and a deep compassion. She never would’ve expected to see such a look on a Williams. Was she dreaming? Had she passed out? Regardless, she needed that look, those eyes, that tender hand. But someone escorted Williams through the curtain and she vanished.
Kat felt them lift and turn her to look for an exit wound in her shoulder.
More words and shouting. She felt cold now and tired. Warmth from somewhere deep was promised to her if she closed her eyes. She did so despite the voices asking her questions and giving her demands. The warmth came, gentle, soothing. The voices faded. Darkness closed in on the image she wanted to keep in her mind. The one of Brynn Williams willing her to live.
* * *
“Kat, Kat?” Kat opened her eyes and winced in pain. Her shoulder felt like it had been knocked out of place. She moaned and tried to speak, but her throat was dry and sore.
“Here.” A cup of water was pressed into her palm. She took hearty sips through a straw and shifted. She was uncomfortable. Numerous pillows were shoved behind her shoulder, putting her at an odd angle. Had someone mangled her shoulder? Were her bones out of place?
“Move the pillows,” she managed, wincing again. “My damn shoulder hurts like hell.”
She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Nausea beckoned but passed.
“Kat, look at me.”
Kat opened her eyes. This time she focused. Dave Murphy, a close friend and fellow cop, was sitting by her side along with his wife, Margie. Kat’s heart pounded. Something was wrong. She only ever saw Margie at Thanksgiving and Christmas. And Murph, he looked scared shitless.
“What is it?”
Margie patted her leg. Kat looked down and saw that she was covered in a baby blue blanket. Another quick look around to her sides showed that monitors were keeping track of her vitals. She again looked to Murph.
“You’ve been shot,” he said.
“Shot?” She swallowed hard. “Shot?”
A woman came in, wearing purple. She pushed buttons on a machine. “It’s not unusual for her to be confused for a short while after the anesthesia. Don’t be alarmed.” And then she was gone, breezing through a curtain.
Margie took her hand. “You’ve just come out of surgery.” Cream. Margie always reminded her of cream. Her skin was flawless and soft and shiny. Just like cream. The scent of White Diamonds permeated the air, and Margie pressed lipstick-covered lips together as she fought off tears.
“Shot?” Her slow mind tried to race, but it was moving through the sluggish marsh of what she could only guess was medication.
“In the shoulder,” Murph continued. “But you’re gonna be fine.” He offered a smile. “You lost a lot of blood, but thankfully, you got here in time.”
He adjusted his studious glasses, and Margie tossed her a smile as well. She glanced at them back and forth, studying. They were full of shit. They were trying to protect her. But from what, she didn’t know. More pain registered and she checked under the covers, beneath the gown. She was covered in bruises. Looked like she had been beat to hell.
“Some of the bullets hit your vest,” Murph said.
“Jesus, how many?” Her heartrate kicked up at the mere thought. Why can’t I remember?
“Don’t worry about that. Just worry about resting now. We’ll get you some more pain meds as soon as you speak to your guys.” Margie again patted her leg.
“They have some questions for you,” Murph said. “Are you up for it?”
“Yes, of course. They’ll tell me what’s going on. They’ll get me out of here.” She tried to k
ick her legs over the side of the bed, but she was hit with dizziness and pain.
“Kat, stop it.” Murph was standing, holding her back. “You’re very weak.”
She closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning.
Murph laughed softly. “Stubborn as always.” He removed a pillow from behind her shoulder and she sighed with relief. “Better?”
She nodded.
She wanted to slug him, but she knew she couldn’t.
“Elevate my arm a little more?” she asked.
He did so and she thanked him, opening her eyes to take in the two of them. Both were standing and they looked so Ma and Pa, Margie clutching her designer purse, well made up, and Murph in his camo ball cap and Polo styled shirt. He wiped a tear from beneath his glasses.
They bent and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be right outside.”
“Okay.”
They left through the curtain, and her captain and a few other deputies rushed in. They looked pale with shock and their eyes were wide with panic. Her captain was wiping his brow.
“Captain, relax, they say I’m okay.” He looked like hell. What is going on?
They all kissed her cheek and patted her hand. A few wiped tears.
“Fellas, it’s okay.” She searched their eyes and studied their posture. They weren’t relaxing, and it was obvious everything was not okay.
Captain Bowman gripped her hand. “Vander.” He cleared his throat. He was flushed so red she was worried he would pop.
“Cap, what is it?”
“You don’t remember anything, do you?”
She searched her mind. “I know I was shot.” And suddenly her heart dropped to her stomach. Her partner. Brian Damien. “Oh, my God.” She clutched her gown at her chest. “Damien. Where is he?” She could see him, his body jolting with every bullet that hit him. He was trapped behind the wheel. She’d leaned over, tried to pull him down, but bullets tore into her as well, leaving her motionless. As she’d felt the hot blood pulse out of her body, she’d tried to release his seat belt. But then someone had been there, someone pulling her from the cruiser. A woman.
“He’s been flown to Charter General,” Captain Bowman said. “He’s critical.”
Kat felt tears nip at her throat. “Oh, Jesus.”
“He’s sustained multiple bullet wounds, one to the head, massive blood loss. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t get him down. I couldn’t get him down.”
Captain Bowman squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault. I don’t want to hear you blaming yourself. It won’t do anyone any good.” He wiped a tear and straightened. “Christ knows you did your best. All we can do is pray now.” Silence hung in the air, and he cleared his throat and carried on. “We knew you were in pursuit of a stolen SUV. And from the footage we just viewed of your dash cam, we know they turned on you and opened fire. They ambushed you. You’re damn lucky to be alive.”
“What we can’t see is what was going on behind you,” a deputy she knew only as Chaz, said. He spoke softly, serious.
“Behind me?”
“Someone pulled in behind you and returned fire at the SUV. Someone pulled you from your vehicle and brought you here. All we got from the dash cam was an image of an older model Buick speeding away with what appeared to be two females inside. The plates came back stolen.”
Kat looked away and scanned her mind. Kind, warm, hazel green eyes came to life. A gentle hand, holding her. A sweet voice, soothing her, telling her it was all okay.
“Yes,” she said, almost to herself. “A woman.”
Another deputy, a rookie she didn’t know, raced into the room. “Captain, we just got the hospital security footage.” He handed over an iPad and they gathered around. Captain Bowman looked up at her. “Do you know who it was, Vander?”
Kat could still see the face and the strands of auburn hair. The blood soaked T-shirt and the loose jeans. She could still see the look on her face. The one willing her to live.
“Yes,” Kat said. “It was Brynn Williams.”
The captain and the others continued looking, thumbing through more footage.
“This is outside in the emergency drop-off,” the rookie deputy said.
Captain Bowman looked up at her in disbelief. “Bea Williams as well?”
Kat shook her head. “I’m not sure. I can only remember Brynn.”
Captain Bowman brought the iPad to her. He showed her the footage of the old car speeding in, screeching to a stop, and two women pulling her from the car. One, Brynn, helped her inside, while the other, Bea, climbed back in and sped off.
“We know Brynn reported the shooting to the staff here at the hospital. She sent rescue, a chopper, after Damien. But she wouldn’t give her name, and she left soon after they began tending to you. At this time, we’re having trouble locating either one.”
“Apparently, she was just released from lockup today,” Chaz said.
“Did she say anything to you, Kat? Anything that might help us find her?” Captain Bowman asked.
Kat’s mind was spinning. Just released? Shot at the SUV? Saved her? Sent them for Damien?
“I have no idea. I don’t know why they were there. Why they…helped.”
Captain Bowman sighed, and she could see just how exhausted he was. But she knew his day was far from over. He’d go at it full force for days, they all would, until they found the SUV. “We don’t either. But with their history and records combined, we’re concerned they were somehow involved with the SUV.”
“Which is why we need to find them. Talk to them,” Chaz said.
Kat recalled the look, the touch. The soft words. “I don’t think they were involved. The way…I just don’t think they were involved. I don’t think they’d risk themselves in helping me or Damien if they were.”
“The plate on their vehicle came back stolen out of Winston Mills. Maybe we should start there,” Chaz said.
Captain Bowman rubbed his forehead. “We need to speak to them regardless of your thoughts, Kat. The car they were in was stolen, and neither one is allowed weapons. They need to be brought in.”
Kat felt her skin begin to burn at the thought of Brynn getting arrested the day she was released. All because she helped her. But the law was the law. If she could somehow see her, talk to her, she was sure she could work it all out.
“Cap, I want to talk to her.” She tried to get out of bed, but the bunch of them all protested at once. “I want to be the one to bring them in. It should be me.”
“Your only job right now is to recover. Let us do the rest.”
He patted her hand and then nodded to the rest of the crew. “We’ll be in touch.” He paused, looked down at his feet, and then back up at her. “And, Vander? I’m glad you’re okay.” He left her bedside quickly, followed by the rest of them, and Kat watched helplessly as they went.
As she leaned back and closed her eyes, she, too, wondered why the Williams girls stopped to help. And more importantly, she wondered about the brave and tender way Brynn was with her. Just who was Brynn Williams and where in the world was she now?
Chapter Three
“Get in,” Brynn said, screeching to a halt in a used sedan. “Notice, this one isn’t stolen.”
Bea rolled her eyes and threw an Army duffel full of clothes and gear in the back and climbed in.
“This is nice,” Bea said, rubbing her hand along the soft seat.
“It is, so let’s keep it that way.” Brynn sped away from the old Sunoco gas station overgrown with kudzu. It had always been their go-to spot when they’d needed to meet up and couldn’t communicate. Now they were risking it all by driving back down the road that led to the turnoff to their home. But Brynn needed highway access, and the faster they drove, the less likely anyone on their front porch would be able to tell it was them in the blue Buick.
“Where the hell are you going?” Bea asked, lighting a cigarette. She was s
weaty, hands shaking. She tugged hard on the cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling, but it seemed to do little to relax her.
“Get down,” Brynn said, slipping on large shades to hide her face.
Bea sank into the seat and they sped past their road and beyond old farmhouses with people relaxing in their porch swings, waiting for the afternoon storm. No one waved or even looked twice.
“Okay, you can sit up.” Brynn pulled onto the highway and slowed to just above the speed limit. Bea shook her head, still confused. She knew where they needed to go to hide, and they were going the wrong way.
“Brynn,” she said, demanding an answer.
“There’s something I have to do.”
“Yeah, what?”
Brynn wiped sweat from her own brow and checked the mirrors for the law. The car was a friend’s, one who owed her many favors. Brynn had called Holly from near the hospital and she’d come to get her. She’d also given her clothes and supplies to escape with, not to mention the car.
“I made a promise,” Brynn said. “And as you know, I keep my promises.”
Bea made a noise of disapproval. “Cops are all over the family. Searched the property. Billy says they even found the old deer stand. As if we’d be dumb enough to hide in that.”
“I’m not surprised.” Neither one of them had been able to return home for fear of the police. Brynn had considered just turning herself in, but she didn’t trust the police to do anything in her favor, and her fear of returning to prison had won out. Right now, she was just hoping Vander would live, and beyond that, she hoped she’d help clear her name. In the meantime, they needed to hide, and Brynn couldn’t argue, knowing another charge on Bea would put her away for a long time.
“I got rid of the guns,” Bea said.
“Where did you get them to begin with?”
She shrugged. “I don’t even remember. Robbie or someone.”
“Great.” Robbie was a well-known druggie and, unfortunately, Bea’s close friend. They’d known him since he was a kid, raising hell at age nine. Adulthood hadn’t changed him a bit.