Stealing Dallas (Search & Seek Book 2)

by Amanda Mackey

  “Where? It’s not here,” I fired back, desperation in my tone.

  “Check the garden down the side. It must have been kicked over the edge.”

  Racing back down the ramp, I put a foot into the garden, pulling leaves back from bushes, madly praying it would appear. “Shit. I can’t find it!”

  Gasping, he said, “Other side.”

  Looking at him as I raced to the other side of the ramp, I noticed his eyes rolling back into his head. “Stay with me, damn it. Keep your eyes open.” I was screaming but didn’t care. He needed to listen to me.

  Noticing the metallic knife sitting on the soil in the garden bed beside a dying shrub, I gripped it and was back at Jagger’s side as fast as my feet could carry me.

  “I need to get your cuffs off. Which tool do I use?” Kneeling back down beside him, I let him show me which one.

  “Keep your hand steady, Rose. You can do it.” His lids fluttered with agony. Sweat had beaded on his brow. I had to hurry.

  “Stay with me, Jagger. Look at me!”

  He nodded, his heavy lids opening with great effort. His pupils were dilated, a glassy film covered his irises. I put my fingers to work, clasping the thin file-like knife, inserting it into the lock of the cuffs. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing and had never picked a lock before.

  Jagger was beginning to shake. Probably shock. I jiggled the knife tip inside the small hole, waiting for the signature click.

  “You’re doing great, Rose. Not so rough, though. Gently.” His words were beginning to slur together. Noticing his eyes closing again, I slapped his cheek. That got his attention but I could tell he was having trouble focusing on me.

  Willing my hand to steady, I softly twisted the tip of the knife until I heard a gentle click and the cuffs opened.

  “Don’t move,” I barked, keying in 911 again and calling for an ambulance, not realizing how silly that statement had been. He couldn’t move if he wanted to.

  Without caring, I took my jacket off and unbuttoned my shirt, pulling it off and then replacing my jacket to stop myself from freezing to death. Scrunching up my shirt into a ball, I pressed it down onto Jagger’s wound. There was too much blood.

  He cried out with the pressure but better that than he bleed out. “Stay still. I need to keep this on until the paramedics get here.

  “Dallas,” Jagger’s voice ruptured.

  “I know. We’ll find him, I promise.” Trouble was, I couldn’t promise anything. I didn’t know where to go from here. Everything had come to a skidding halt.

  Sirens sounded faraway as I watched Jagger lose consciousness.

  ***

  I was smack bang in the middle of a nightmare I couldn’t seem to escape from. A car revved out front on the gravel driveway. Lena Radcliffe or Marcy Dewhurst were escaping, but at the moment, my priority was Jagger. I had to let them go.

  A second siren sounded out as the first one neared. The cavalry had arrived but they were too late. Where had the police been the entire time? Why hadn’t they arrived sooner? Surely a mad woman with a gun would take priority over anything else.

  I felt sick to my stomach as I watched as the medics wheeled the gurney around to us, lifting Jagger onto it, and covering him with a thermal blanket.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” asked a female paramedic.

  “Yes. I was the one that called. I’m fine.”

  Two males checked Jagger’s wound and vitals, working to staunch the flow of blood while wheeling him away from me.

  I hurried to catch up. “Is he going to be all right?”

  “He’s lost a fair bit of blood, so we don’t know at this stage.”

  The gravity of the situation began to sink in.

  Dallas was gone again. This time with a woman I knew was crazy. Jagger was shot, and if he was okay, he would want to attempt to find her, but we couldn’t keep chasing her around the country. We’d driven all this way to get so close only to have the rug pulled from under us, and now we were essentially back to square one. The worst part was, we were dealing with a crooked cop who had other cops eating out of her hand. Who could we trust?

  Blindly returning to my car, I waited while Jagger was loaded into the back of the ambulance and then I followed behind, not having a clue where the hospital was.

  I turned the heater to full blast in the hope it might stem my shivering. It was probably partly from the cold and partly from shock.

  Who could I call to assist with finding Dallas? My cousin Don had made it clear he couldn’t do much besides help build a case.

  Following the ambulance through a red light, I let the wail of the siren keep me focused on the road. I needed to remain strong for Jagger. Not knowing how long he’d be in the hospital for, I would have to re-evaluate my work status. I didn’t like to ask for another week off, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t leave him here in Montana all alone while I returned to Buckeye.

  The question that kept pressing in on me was, why was Dallas’ birth mother going to such ridiculous lengths to get him back? Breaking the law? It didn’t add up. I needed answers.

  We drove for a few minutes, weaving in and out of traffic until we approached the hospital. A sign outside read Benefits Health System. I wasn’t sure if I should follow the ambulance all the way in or park in the visitor’s area. I’d probably get towed away if I took up the space another ambulance needed, so I opted for the visitor’s parking.

  I made my way into the emergency department and waited in line behind a woman with a small child and a dark-skinned man at reception.

  The large waiting area was filled with people of all ages, each looking like they’d been there for days. Hopefully I wouldn’t be joining them and I’d be allowed out back with Jagger.

  A large television screen played a cheap sitcom without sound. Most people were glued to it, only to glance up when I walked through the doors. It was a mild distraction at best with no sound. Something to focus on other than the long wait ahead.

  A doctor poked his head out from a closed door, gaining rapt attention. He called a name for one lucky person, as if they were all part of some random lottery, each one hopeful it would be their turn. A scruffy man probably no more than thirty got up and shuffled through, all eyes on him until the doors closed and then they were back to the television screen, the cycle starting all over again.

  When it was my turn, the triage nurse asked how she could help.

  “Jagger Reed was brought in via ambulance not long ago. I was with him when he was shot and would like to be with him, if I could.”

  She typed into her computer, checking his details to see if he’d been logged into the system.

  “He’s getting prepped and ready for surgery. Come this way, please.”

  Thankful to be allowed straight through, I followed behind her through the door and into the working belly of the hospital. It was a flurry of activity. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, and patients all making up the infrastructure in the giant space. A nurses’ station sat smack bang in the center with aisles and curtained rooms all leading off it.

  The triage nurse communicated with another nurse at the desk, and soon I was being led to a different waiting area near the surgical theaters, the triage nurse leaving to return to her post out front.

  “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Sandwich?” asked the new woman.

  Was I hungry? Not really, but a coffee sounded wonderful. “A coffee sounds great, thank you.”

  Now I waited. Deciding I needed to utilize my time wisely, I dialed Ed’s number. He was my friend in the prison system who might be able to help with Dallas’ search. I was frantic and didn’t know who else I could ask.

  “Hi Ed…that’s why I’m calling, actually. There’s been a bit going on since I last spoke with you.”

  There was so much to tell him. I wish everything had ended with Jagger being released and reunited with his brother, but as I was coming to realize, nothing ever ran smoothly.

  “I’m in Montan
a…I wish. No. I’m here with Jagger, the guy who was released. We went to pick up his brother the day of his release and found the woman who had been caring for him had skipped town. Just up and left with Jagger’s brother. It’s a long story, but with the police’s help, we traced him to Great Falls, Montana. We’ve hit a snag, though. Dallas’ birth mother, the cop―she showed up, gun blazing―and stole Dallas right from under Jagger’s nose. She shot Jagger in the shoulder, and then vanished with his brother. I tell you, Ed, if it doesn’t rain, it pours.”

  He let go a long sigh and then proceeded to tell me he’d need to process everything and that he’d call me back. It was a lot to take in. I could understand.

  We hung up as my coffee arrived. I thanked the nurse and settled back into the hard chair to breathe through my anxiety. Would Ed be able to help? What would happen if he couldn’t? Getting involved with a prisoner had been a bad call. I should have listened to my initial feeling telling me to ignore the pull to Jagger and just teach. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d listened to my head instead of my heart.

  My mother had every right to wish I taught in elementary school. She worried about me. If only she knew what had happened of late, she’d have a fit. There was no way I would tell her. Some things were better left unsaid.

  My cell vibrated, so I answered it, seeing the caller ID as Ed.

  “Hi. What did you decide?”

  He went on to tell me that his brother who was a cop knew people in the FBI, so he was going to see if they could help. Long shot, but one worth trying.

  I was extremely grateful, and knowing that took some of the immediate pressure off me. At the moment, I felt like everything was resting on my shoulders and it was a huge burden to carry.

  With that in mind, I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. After three cups of coffee and a power nap on the uncomfortable steel chair, a doctor finally approached.

  “Miss McAllister?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Reed is out of surgery now. He’s in recovery and will be getting transferred to the ward shortly.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’ll make a full recovery. The bullet was lodged deeply in his shoulder tissue, so we’ve extracted it and performed some reconstructive surgery. We’ve given him a pint of blood. I expect him to be here for another few days.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. When can I see him?”

  “If you go see the nurse, she’ll let you know what room he’ll be getting moved to.”

  With that good news in hand, I received directions and moved to the bank of elevators that would take me to the second floor.

  ***

  I was directed to a room to wait for Jagger. I sat in a chair next to the bed. He was being sent from recovery to the ward. I was anxious to see for myself that he was okay. My fingers shook as I played with the zipper on my purse.

  I hated hospitals. The smell. The sterile landscape. The fact that people were dying around me. The germs. I don’t know how the nurses coped, day in and day out. It took a special type of person to consider the profession, but then I guess they’d say the same for the one I was in. Each to their own.

  Eventually Jagger was wheeled in, his eyes closed as they switched beds.

  “He’s on some strong pain meds, so he’ll probably sleep for a while,” said a nurse who had followed the orderlies in.

  “Is it okay if I wait here with him until he wakes up?”

  “Sure. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you.”

  When the room was silent again, I moved back to my seat and gripped Jagger’s hand, squeezing it. His face was peaceful, the lines smoothed out. In fact, I’d never seen him looking so relaxed. Prison life had made him frown most of the time, and with the stress of his brother’s disappearance, it was hard to recall a time when he’d been without furrows in his brow. The moment he’d stepped out into the sunshine after his release and now. Two times. It was really quite sad.

  “Jesus, Jagger. You scared me! I heard the shot fired and got there as soon as I could. I wasn’t sure who had taken the bullet until I’d rounded the corner. Seeing you covered in blood and grimacing in pain almost ruined me.”

  The heart monitor kept up its monotone beeping and the din of a working hospital sounded outside the door, but apart from that, there was nothing.

  Fatigue gripped me in its clutches hard, and all I wanted to do was climb into a comfortable bed and sleep for a week. Unable to do that, I brought both my legs up under each other, twisted on my side, and made the best of my back-breaking, pretend cot. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Ten

  Jagger

  I’d been chewed up and spat out. Seriously. The sensations and sounds stirred in my brain before my eyes opened and registered anything.

  An annoying drone in my quiet world made me want to throw it just to go back to peace.

  My eyelids were leaden as I coerced them open to assess my surroundings. Light spewed in from outside, causing me to squint against the influx. Turning my head to view the room, it became clear. Hospital. A gunshot. Dallas. Pivoting further, I saw Rose slumped in the chair beside me, head on an odd angle, hair splayed out messily. She’d stayed. She’d been here all night. Just having her with me brought some comfort.

  Reaching my hand out, I touched her knee, causing her to twitch awake.

  “Hey,” I croaked out.

  “Jagger. You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Sitting up straight, she leaned in closer and took my hand.

  “Like I’ve been wrestling with a truck. Could have been worse, I guess.”

  “I’m so glad you’re okay. I didn’t know what to think.”

  Needing to ask her the one question plaguing me, I steeled myself. “Has Dallas been found?”

  The look of despair that crept over her features told me my answer before she spoke. “No, but I called Ed, my friend in the prison system, and he’s getting the FBI to look into it. He will be found. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Shifting my head so I was staring at the ceiling, I remembered my brother’s face right before I’d been shot. “He was smiling madly when he first saw me and chatting as if I’d never been away. He wanted us to go home.” Rage and regret iced my veins over. “When he saw I’d been shot, something registered in his brain and I swear I could see fear in his eyes. I’ve never seen fear in his eyes. Not even when he killed our father.” I squeezed Rose’s hand so tightly my knuckles were white.

  “He loves you.”

  “He does. In his own way, he really does. I’m all he’s got. I hate to think of him with that woman. She wouldn’t know how to be a mother if it bit her in the face.”

  At that point a nurse walked through the door, all cheery. “Mr. Reed, good to see you awake. How’s your pain this morning?”

  A slow burn was establishing itself in my shoulder, notifying me the meds had worn off. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d say about an eight.”

  “Okay. Let’s give you some more to make you comfortable, and then I’ll check your vitals. Breakfast will be coming around soon.”

  Glancing at Rose, I said, “Why don’t you head back to the motel and take a shower and have breakfast? I’ll be fine. Go freshen up.”

  “Are you saying I stink?”

  “You could never stink, Rose, but you’ve spent the night upright in a chair. You look like you could use the time to change and feed.”

  She looked at me, unsure whether she should leave or not, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “It’s not like I can leave. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

  Smiling, she stood and leaned down, planting a lingering kiss on my parched lips. “I won’t be long. You want me to bring you a decent coffee?”

  That sounded like the best thing ever. “Perfect. I’ll see you soon.”

  She left me to it, the nurse injecting some pain meds into my catheter before checking my pulse and taking some blood.

  “The police will
want to question you this morning. They came last night but we sent them away due to your surgery and recovery.”

  “Good. I need to talk with them.” Wasn’t that a fact? There were so many questions I needed answers to.

  “I’ll send them in when they arrive.” With that she left me alone with my thoughts. Too much time to think would drive me crazy. I needed to be doing something other than hole up in a hospital.

  Where was my brother? Could Rose’s friend Ed really use the FBI to locate him? God, my life was such a screwed up mess. It really couldn’t get any worse.

  For breakfast I received scrambled eggs, cereal, and toast with orange juice. I craved the coffee I knew was coming, compliments of my sexy school teacher. I was honored to have her on my side, cheering for me. Just her smile alone brought me great comfort and strength. Support I hadn’t had since my mother passed. My mom would have loved her. They were, in many ways, alike. Same temperament, although Rose certainly had a darker side and tougher skin. One would have thought living with my father would have given Mom tougher skin, but she’d never changed. Some days it was hard to replicate her features perfectly and others I could almost smell her perfume as if she were standing next to me. I’m so glad Dallas had spent some of his life with her, even if he couldn’t remember now.

  Rose made it back before the police, freshened up and dressed down in some sweats and a hoodie. The bottoms hugged her svelte figure, the top ending just above her butt cheeks. There was some small mercy in that. Her ass was round and pert, and an addiction I could get lost in. The dreary room suddenly got a whole lot brighter.

  “One extra strong black coffee.” She placed it down on the bedside metal drawers along with a paper bag. “There’s a couple of doughnuts in there too. I thought they might be better than hospital food.”

  “Ahhh. You’re a lifesaver. Come here, sweetheart.”

  She chuckled, rested her purse over the back of the chair, and sat on the edge of my bed, bending down to give me a light hug. It was hard with the drip in my left hand and my shoulder bandaged, but I wasn’t concerned with details, I just wanted to feel her against me.