Because Emily’s son had died, no more lines had been drawn above this single one, or ever would. Stricken, he wondered how often she stopped on her way down the hall to look at that one narrow line and remember what it represented. How many other places in the house carried the same emotional load?
And he’d refused to understand why she couldn’t imagine leaving this house.
I’m an idiot.
He rolled over, punched his pillow and stared straight into her dark bedroom.
Yeah, but could he live with the ghosts of her dead husband and child?
He stifled a groan and returned to lying on his back, this time with his hands clasped beneath his head.
It wasn’t as if he’d asked her to marry him. This was just...a tryout.
Uh huh. Sure.
Short-term or long-term, he had to accept the existence of the pair of elephants in the room. So to speak. If she’d had a kid from another man, he didn’t think he’d have a problem with it. Likewise, if Emily was divorced, she’d have memories, experiences that would never be erased.
But instinct told him this was different. He struggled with the why for a minute before he understood. It wasn’t the memories he minded. It was the knowledge that she would forever hold Tom and Cody in her heart. Love uninterrupted. She might love him, too, love their kids, but none of that would change what she’d felt for her first husband and baby.
He’d never know if she loved him best. That was the kicker. And Sean knew even thinking that way was stupid, too. Love shouldn’t be ranked first, second, third.
But still, sleep eluded him.
*****
The sound of Sean’s phone ringing worked like a shot of adrenaline on Emily. Just like that, she was sitting up in bed, her heart racing. She was starting to really hate these middle of the night phone calls. They never brought good news.
She also hated that this was the third night in a row he’d slept in the hall instead of with her.
As low as he kept his voice, she still heard his “What?” Pause. “How the hell…?”
Somebody else was dead. Chilled, Emily yanked the covers up around herself..
“On my way,” he said finally, then raised his voice slightly. “Emily?”
“I’m awake. Who was that?”
“Rebecca Walker. The guy got into her house tonight. She’s injured, but the Fisk girl is okay. Unfortunately, he got away. She thought she shot him, but there’s no blood. Either she missed, or he was wearing a vest.”
“A vest?”
“Kevlar,” he said grimly.
Emily shuddered. “He’ll never stop, will he?” She wanted to pull the covers higher, right over her head, and pretend none of this was happening.
“Not until we stop him.” His dark shape materialized only a few feet from her bed. “I’m sorry. We need to go to the hospital again.”
“Will your lieutenant be mad that I’m there?” she asked reluctantly, because the idea of staying behind freaked her out. The killer surely wouldn’t go after another target tonight, but… Call me a coward, she thought.
“Don’t care,” Sean said, his tone uncompromising. “Up and at ’em.”
She grabbed from her drawers almost at random and dressed in the bathroom. She came out to find that Sean had pulled on the same clothes he’d worn earlier. They were noticeably wrinkled. Stubble darkened his jaw. The bridge of his nose still had a dark bump, and the bruising that crept beneath his eyes was turning yellow. It didn’t appear he’d bothered to comb his hair, leaving it even more disheveled than usual. Yet somehow he was still sexy – maybe even sexier battered. The just-out-of-bed look didn’t hurt, either.
The same did not hold true for her. She’d been horrified at the sight of herself in the mirror, her face almost gaunt, her eyes shadowed and sunken. One appalled look had been more than enough.
Emily realized immediately that they were going to North Fork and the larger hospital there, not the small one in Cape Trouble. Of course that made sense. This drive would be twenty minutes instead of five, though.
Halfway, Emily realized she must have at least been dozing, if not asleep, when the phone rang. Because her brain suddenly kicked into gear, and she understood why he’d said, How the hell…?
Her heartbeat quickened. “I don’t understand. How did he know where Kimberly was?”
The steering wheel creaked as his fingers flexed. “That’s a really important question. One I have a very bad feeling about.”
“What do you mean?”
He only shook his head and refused to say more.
As usual, he shielded her with his body as he hustled her through the sliding glass doors into the emergency room. He displayed his badge to the receptionist and asked for Rebecca Walker. A minute later, a nurse appeared to usher them back.
The cubicles were all dark except for one. They walked in to find another nurse carefully cutting off a blood-soaked nightshirt while an older, male doctor watched. Kimberly Fisk huddled in a corner of the room. Pixy-cut blonde hair wild, she wore flannel pajama bottoms, a T-shirt and fuzzy pink slippers. She clutched a parka on her lap.
The moment she saw Sean, she jumped to her feet, outrage flaring. “You said he wouldn’t find me! I trusted you!”
“How he found you is something we’ll be talking about.” Then he stepped to Rebecca’s side. “Not looking so good,” he said, voice considerably gentler.
She grimaced at him. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”
Kimberly saw all the blood and dropped back in the chair again as if her legs had given out.
“Son of a bitch shot me,” Rebecca muttered.
The doctor frowned at Sean. “Detective, you can get answers from her later. Right now, I need you to back off.”
Eyes lingering on Rebecca’s bloody shoulder, he nodded and returned to Emily’s side.
“Is your boss coming again?” she asked in an undertone.
“Yeah, I thought so.” With a frown, he glanced at the wall clock. “He may have gone to the scene first.”
The ‘scene’ being Rebecca’s cabin in the woods. Thinking about how violated she felt, Emily wondered if Rebecca’s home would ever feel as peaceful to her again.
Eventually, Kimberly, Sean and Emily were herded out of the cubicle and curtains were drawn. A different nurse found chairs for them, which Emily and Kimberly took advantage of. Sean paced. Emily reassured Kimberly, but both fell silent after a bit.
An orderly appeared, and Rebecca was wheeled out in the same bed, her eyes glassy, but her head turning until she saw Sean. He hurried to her, walking beside the bed as it moved down the hall. Emily couldn’t quite hear what they said, but after Rebecca and the cluster of people around her disappeared into an elevator, he came back.
“The bullet is still in her. They have to operate.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Doesn’t sound like it hit anything vital.”
“You’re not wearing one of those vests, are you?” Emily asked fiercely.
“Daytimes. Uh, sometimes.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll start sleeping in it, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“What about me?” Kimberly asked. “What happens to me now?”
“We’ll figure out where you can stay,” he said. “For now, the doctor suggested a small conference room.” He nodded down the hall. “The waiting room is too open.”
That silenced Emily and Kimberly both.
The chairs in the small room were marginally more comfortable than the hard plastic ones in the hall. Sean seemed unable to settle into one. Leaving the door open, he kept pacing. Or maybe, she thought, he was just trying to keep himself awake. She kept dozing off and then, as she would start to list sideways or fall forward, jerking awake.
Sean was barely outside the room when his phone rang. She saw that Kimberly was soundly asleep, her head bent at an awkward angle. Emily struggled to stay alert until she knew what was happening
/>
Of course, he walked away, keeping his voice low.
When he returned, his expression was so bleak, her heart seemed to stop. She jumped up and went to him.
“What is it?” she asked, pitching her voice low.
He took her arm and steered her part way down the hall until they were equidistant from the small room and the nurse’s station.
His voice was pure gravel. “Byron Saunders is the cop who shot and killed Braden in that courtroom.” A muscle jerked in his cheek. “He was on patrol tonight. When he didn’t respond to radio traffic, other deputies went looking for him. They found his car. He was still behind the wheel. Throat sliced.”
Emily grappled with that knowledge. With the horror. “Right there? I mean, he wasn’t put back in the car...afterwards?”
“No.” His face was so grim, it had turned to stone. But his eyes were a shocking contrast, the anger and pain so vivid, it hurt to see.
“He let somebody walk right up and—” She couldn’t finish.
“Yes.”
“Do you think…he could have told the man who killed him where to find Kimberly?”
Sean groaned and wheeled away from her as if he didn’t want her to see his face. “Byron shouldn’t have known where she was,” he said, with a savagery she’d never heard from him before. “Nobody should have known except the members of the task force.”
“And me,” she said timidly, then bit her lip. “And Rebecca.”
“And Kimberly,” he finished for her. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Emily laid a hand on his back and rubbed it. “I’m sorry. Was he a friend of yours?”
He shook his head and turned back to her, his face ravaged. “No. But he was one of us. He refused to go into hiding. Thought as a cop he ought to be able to take care of himself.” His throat worked.
Emily stood, feeling helpless. But suddenly Sean reached out for her, pulling her tight to him, and pressed his face against her head. She wrapped her arms securely around him, offering and accepting comfort. Even under the awful circumstances, the feel of his tall, solid body stirred a response in her. She had ached for him these past nights. Right now, he seemed to need her, which gave her hope.
Eventually he sighed and let her go. His eyes were red-rimmed, although she could tell he hadn’t let himself shed a tear.
His hand rasped over his jaw. “Jason is right.” He shook his head. “The guy is a fucking ghost.”
“You’ll find him.”
“How?” He showed his teeth. “How?”
She had no answer.
*****
Rebecca came through the surgery with no complications. Her father had arrived by then, as had Wilcynski. The three of them listened as the surgeon explained what he’d done. Her left scapula had stopped the bullet, which also shattered it. He had done what he could to put her shoulder blade back together. At a minimum, she’d have her shoulder immobilized in a sling for three to four weeks.
“We need to ask her a couple of quick questions as soon as she’s conscious,” Sean said.
“I’ll alert Recovery to call you back once she’s awake.” He frowned at Sean. “So long as you do keep it quick.” He handed over the piece of torn metal he’d extracted in a small plastic zip-top bag.
They all stared at it. “No wonder there was so goddamn much blood,” Wilcynski said. A pulse throbbed in his temple.
“That’s not a bullet,” Rebecca’s father said incredulously.
“Jacketed hollow point.” Sean had trouble sounding anything close to normal. Civilized. “Designed to expand on impact.”
“To do as much damage as possible,” the lieutenant elaborated. Rage roughened his voice, too.
Kevin Walker looked like he wanted to kill, a feeling with which Sean sympathized. “I’ll be taking her home with me to recover,” her father said. “Will this bastard come after her?”
“She didn’t see him well enough to identify him, so he’d have no reason. Tonight, she got in his way. All the same, take what precautions you can.”
After Mr. Walker sank into a chair in the same room as Emily and Kimberly Fisk, head in his hands, Sean and Wilcynski walked and talked for a few minutes.
“I can stay if you want to see both scenes,” the lieutenant said. He hadn’t commented on Emily’s presence, nor had Sean seen any change in his expression when he saw her.
“Was there anything new?”
“Aside from the fact that he used a gun at Rebecca’s, no.” He ground his teeth. “I looked up Saunder’s record. He was a hell of good cop. Dishonorable discharge.” He spat the last two words. DD had been written in blood on the interior of the side window. The perp had wanted to be sure the blood wasn’t washed away in rain or drizzle.
Sean felt a momentary pull. He always wanted to see the crime scenes first hand. But this time, instinct told him he’d have a better chance finding answers elsewhere. “Then no,” Sean said. “Not if you’re willing to supervise the evidence team.”
“I can.” He grunted. “We both know it’ll be a miracle if they find a damn thing that isn’t easily explained.”
Yeah, no kidding, Sean thought. “I’m not much of a churchgoer,” he said. “Could be that’s why I don’t see many miracles.”
The lieutenant surprised him by quirking an eyebrow. “You’ve seen a couple recently. The fact that Ms. Drake escaped a killer who’d already gotten into her house, and twice, qualifies, I think.”
“Yeah.” Tiredness weighed on Sean, but he couldn’t surrender to it. “And it’s got to piss him off. He missed at the Fisk house the other night, but it wasn’t Ed Fisk who outsmarted him. Emily is different. She thwarted him singlehandedly.”
“Not entirely. You got there fast.”
“But she was already out of the house, waking the whole neighborhood.”
Wilcynski shrugged an acknowledgment. “It’ll be harder to protect her from a bullet,” he said after a minute.
“That’s already been on my mind.”
Wilcynski nodded. “Call once you talk to Deputy Walker and find out if the Fisk girl blabbed. I’ll let you know if we learn anything.”
“Will do.”
Sean watched him until he pushed through the swinging doors to the waiting room, then turned to rejoin Emily and the others. He needed to talk to her, but even if he could get her alone, this wasn’t the time or the place, and he wasn’t settled enough in his mind.
*****
Emily glanced at the dashboard clock as Sean turned onto their street. 6:22. It had felt surreal walking out of the hospital to daylight. It had been dark when they arrived, and her body thought it should still be dark. Somehow, time had warped while they were inside. She’d dozed enough that the waking periods felt more like dreams.
The drive had passed in silence. She knew Sean was brooding over how the killer had known where Kimberly was. In his brief talk with Rebecca, she’d insisted she had told no one at all. Kimberly said the same.
“I’m not stupid!” she’d cried.
“You didn’t hint. To anybody.”
“No! I turned my phone off, like you said.”
She didn’t waver. Her phone was back at Rebecca’s, but if he wanted to go get it, he could look at her call logs and texts. “There aren’t any,” she insisted. “Not since you picked me up.”
Sean had still looked doubtful, but Emily believed her. Kimberly looked terrified. Why would she lie about something they could check so easily?
Emily felt a dizzying fear that there was no escape. Why hide, if he could find them despite every precaution? It was as if he was watching all of them, at all times. She caught herself giving surreptitious looks around, even while they were tucked away in that small room back in the ER. During the drive, she’d kept an eye on the rearview mirror.
Sean saw her and said, “He doesn’t have magical powers. I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll be going over this vehicle inch by inch to be sure it’s not carrying a tracking device. Ditto for
my assigned car.”
Emily shuddered. “He’d know everywhere you’ve been.”
“Yeah. It would explain some things.” His fingers tightened and loosened a few times on the steering wheel. “Another possibility is that someone has a big mouth.”
“You mean Kimberly?”
His mouth tightened and he didn’t answer.
Emily had a bad feeling she knew what he was thinking. She had no doubt he intended to grill the various detectives on his task force next. After he got some sleep, she hoped.
“You must be even more tired than I am,” she said, the sound of her voice startling her.
“I need to get a few hours,” he admitted gruffly.
“Can we go to your house?”
He gave her a sidelong, startled look. “Why?”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to sleep with you.”
Sean didn’t say anything, but a moment later he parked in his own driveway, not hers.
When she reached for the door handle, he snapped, “Wait until I get around there.”
He had her bend low and all but run to his front porch. It was not a graceful way to travel. What she’d done was scuttle, she decided. Sort of like a cockroach afraid someone was going to step on it.
He had the door unlocked and them inside in seconds. She felt some of the tension leave his body once he locked.
“We’ll nap here,” he said, “but I’m thinking it would be better to stay at your house tonight. The security system does offer some protection.”
Some protection. Her tiny burst of annoyance was probably a reaction to all the tension.
“I might not have wasted the money if you’d described it that way in the first place,” Emily grumbled.
Twisted Threads (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 3) Page 22