Quinn jumped out of the car and hurried toward the gurney, the silver blanket fluttering to the ground. “Gabe!” she cried. “Oh, Gabe.”
Gabe gave her a watery smile. He looked pale, and his gaze was glazed, probably with the medication he’d been given for the pain. “I’ll be all right. See to Emma.” His voice was raspy, but he was alert.
“You knew,” Quinn whispered. “You knew she was there all along. Is that why you recited that long prayer, to draw Brett’s attention away from what was happening upstairs?”
“I didn’t want Brett to hear her voice if she called for help. I was giving her time.”
“You saved us,” Quinn said.
“Emma saved us,” Gabe whispered. He was fading fast, his eyelids fluttering as the meds kicked in.
“Where are you taking him?” Quinn asked one of the paramedics. She wanted to go with him, but she needed to go to Emma.
“Chelsea and Westminster Hospital,” the paramedic replied. “You can meet us there.”
“Mrs. Russell, let’s get your daughter sorted and then I’ll drive you to the hospital,” the officer said.
“What’s your name?” Quinn rasped.
“Scoley. Edward Scoley.”
“Thank you, Constable Scoley,” Quinn said. “Thank you,” she whispered as an impenetrable blackness closed in on her, the shock of the past hour finally catching up to her. The last thing she felt before she passed out was Constable Scoley’s arm around her.
When Quinn came round, she was stretched out on the sofa. There was no sign of the cyanide pills, but a dark red stain was clearly visible on the carpet. Gabe’s blood. She wished someone would have covered it up so Emma wouldn’t have to see her father’s blood pooled between the fibers.
Emma was huddled in the armchair, her face deathly pale, her eyes wide with anxiety. Rufus sat at her feet, quiet for once. A young woman perched on the arm of the chair, presumably the family liaison officer, her hand clutched in a death grip by Emma’s childish fingers.
“Emma, my brave girl,” Quinn exclaimed. She sat up and opened her arms, and Emma erupted from the armchair and hurled herself at Quinn, burying her face in Quinn’s neck.
“I was so scared,” Emma sobbed. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did exactly the right thing,” the family liaison officer said gently.
“You did,” Quinn rushed to reassure her. “You saved our lives.”
“I should have called sooner, but I hid in my room and told Rufus to be quiet. He was hurt,” Emma cried. “I tried to hear what was going on. I couldn’t understand what was happening.” Quinn stroked Emma’s head, desperate to reassure her. “Mum, is Dad going to be okay?” Emma pleaded.
Quinn looked at the officer over Emma’s head. “He’s already in surgery,” the woman said.
“Can you take us to the hospital, please?” Quinn asked.
“Of course. Is there anyone you’d like me to call for you?”
“No, thank you.”
“Are you sure? A family member? A friend?” the officer tried again. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Quinn was about to decline but changed her mind. “Please call Jude Wyatt and Drew Camden.”
“You got it.”
A few minutes later, Quinn and Emma were escorted to the police car, which took them to the hospital.
Chapter 61
Emma held tightly to Quinn’s hand as they walked into the hospital and took the lift to the right floor. Quinn asked for an update on Gabe’s condition but was asked to sit down and wait until a doctor could speak to her. She sank into a plastic chair, too worn out by the events of the day to keep upright for much longer. Quinn and Emma sat side by side, silent and terrified, waiting to hear news that could change their lives forever.
Soon, a young Asian doctor stepped out of one of the rooms and approached them. He looked calm and relaxed, which Quinn found reassuring.
“Mrs. Russell, my name is Dr. Chan. I was called to A&E when Mr. Russell was brought in. I’m a nephrologist,” he explained. Quinn wasn’t sure what that was but didn’t think this was the time to ask. “He is still in surgery, I’m afraid. The blade punctured his right kidney and nicked the renal artery.”
“What does that mean?” Quinn asked in a whisper, wishing Emma weren’t there to hear this.
“It means he’s lost a lot of blood and might lose his kidney as well. It’s too soon to tell.”
“Dr. Chan, what is the prognosis?” she asked as calmly as she could, for Emma’s sake.
“We have every confidence that Mr. Russell will make a full recovery,” Dr. Chan said, smiling warmly at Emma, who was pressing herself to Quinn’s arm. “A person can live a long and healthy life with one kidney. It will be a long wait, though. Perhaps you should go home. Someone will call you as soon as Mr. Russell is out of theater.”
“No, we’ll stay,” Quinn said. Emma nodded in agreement.
“I will update you as soon as I know more,” Dr. Chan said. “I’m in contact with the surgical team.”
“Thank you, Dr. Chan,” Quinn said, and watched as he walked away, feeling like a young child whose mother had just left her behind. The helplessness and fear she’d experienced today brought flashbacks of being locked in the tomb, and she reached into her bag and fished for her phone, desperate to hear her mother’s voice.
“Darling, what a lovely surprise,” Susan Allenby exclaimed when she picked up. “I was just thinking about you. Are you getting ready for Mia’s birthday?”
Quinn opened her mouth to reply but burst into tears instead, sobbing her heart out into the phone until she was finally able to speak. By that time, her father was also on the line, talking to her in a soothing tone and assuring her that everything would be all right. Between the two of them, her parents were able to get the full story, their exclamations of horror and praise for Emma’s bravery echoing down the empty corridor.
After a few minutes, Quinn passed the phone to Emma, who was eager to tell her grandparents her own version of events. It may have been wrong to lay this at her parents’ door, but talking to them had released something inside her, and she was finally able to gather her wits and focus on getting through this.
“They’re coming,” Emma said as she handed the phone back to Quinn.
“What?”
“Grandma and Grandpa are coming tomorrow,” Emma said, and smiled for the first time that evening. And Quinn smiled back, no longer feeling like an abandoned child.
“You still have to give your statement to the police,” Emma reminded her as they continued their vigil. Quinn had been too distraught to give a statement back at the house. Her gaze had kept straying to Gabe’s blood as she pictured him all alone at the hospital, keeping an eye on the door in the hope that she would come, if he was even conscious at the time. She had promised to give her statement first thing in the morning and wouldn’t budge on that.
“Yes. I will do that.”
“Will they put Brett in prison, do you think?” Emma asked. Some of the color had returned to her face, and now her natural child’s curiosity was beginning to reassert itself.
“Yes, they probably will,” Quinn replied.
“Here or in America?”
“Here, I should think. That’s where he committed the crimes.” By now, Emma had heard all about Jo’s death, since Quinn had had to explain to the police why Brett had shown up at their house wielding a knife.
“Will he be charged with murder?” Emma asked, surprising Quinn with the maturity of the question.
“I don’t know, Em. The law is complex, and there are degrees of murder and attempted murder.”
“That’s what Grandma Phoebe says,” Emma replied wisely.
“She does?”
“She likes to watch crime shows,” Emma said. “Sometimes she tells me about them on the phone. She has no one to talk to except Cecily, and Cecily only likes The Great Pottery Throw Down and The Baking Show.”
�
��I thought Grandma Phoebe liked only romantic comedies,” Quinn said, noting the absurdity of having this conversation while Gabe was possibly losing a kidney.
“She does, but she likes murder too.”
“I’m not so sure she’ll like it as much after today,” Quinn muttered.
“You should call her,” Emma suggested. “She’ll want to be here for Daddy. She’ll knit him socks.”
“Grandma Phoebe doesn’t knit,” Quinn replied.
“She really should try to be more grandmotherly,” Emma observed. “She doesn’t like to bake or knit or tell stories about the past.”
“That’s because she was almost a communist once,” Quinn replied, trying to suppress a hysterical giggle.
“What’s a communist? Do they like to bake?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do they live in a commune?” Emma continued, now in full flow. “Was Grandma Phoebe a hippie?”
Quinn knew Emma was babbling because she was scared but was glad of the interruption when Jude and Drew arrived almost simultaneously.
Drew limped down the corridor, while Jude covered the distance in long strides, his anxious gaze never leaving Quinn’s face. Emma jumped up and ran down the corridor, straight into Jude’s arms. He held her close and then bent down to whisper something in her ear. Emma looked up at him with shining eyes and smiled shyly, then slid her hand into his, and they walked the rest of the way together.
“I’m so sorry,” Jude said once he reached Quinn. “How’s Gabe?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn replied, tears clouding her vision.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Just stay with us for a while,” Quinn said, her voice breaking. Emma had managed to distract her with all her questions earlier, but reality had reasserted itself as soon as she saw the men exit the lift.
“Of course, as long as you need.”
“Jude, this is Drew Camden. I don’t think you two have ever met,” Quinn said.
“No.” Jude held out his hand, and Drew grasped it.
“Can I have a moment with your sister?” Drew asked.
“Em, what do you say we go find some snacks? You must be hungry,” Jude said. “And your mum hasn’t had any dinner.”
“All right,” Emma agreed in a small voice, but she still looked secretly pleased, making Quinn wonder what Jude had said to her earlier.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Jude said.
“I’ll be right here, darling,” Quinn assured her when Emma gave her a questioning look.
Drew dropped into the chair next to hers and exhaled deeply. “Jesus, Quinn. What a cock-up!”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” she replied.
“There was no way for Brett to know about the request from the Met. It was confidential.”
“Seems his lawyer has a contact in the New Orleans Police Department.”
“I hope the bastard will be disbarred for what he’s done, and the officer who told him should be made an example of, very publicly, and dishonorably discharged without a pension.”
“You won’t hear an argument from me,” Quinn said. She suddenly felt very tired and wished she could climb into bed and hide under the duvet until her world returned to normal, but that wasn’t an option. She looked at Drew. He looked gray and tired, and as sullen as a storm cloud.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Quinn said.
“Wasn’t it?” Drew retorted.
“Drew, I’m a grown woman, and I knew the risks when I called you. If this was anyone’s fault, it was mine.”
“Yes, it was,” Drew agreed, stunning Quinn into silence. “But you had no choice. How could you go on living your life as if nothing had happened? Even if Jo hadn’t been your sister, you still would have come forward, because that’s who you are.”
“An upstanding citizen, you mean?” Quinn quipped, but the joke fell flat.
“For lack of a better description, yes. When you see a wrong, you have to right it,” Drew said. “You would have made a good copper.”
That made Quinn smile. “Somehow, I really can’t see that, but thank you. It means a lot coming from you. Drew, what will happen? Is there any chance Brett might go free? He’d broken into the house and threatened us, but he only stabbed Gabe once Gabe lunged at him, so he could claim self-defense. With a good lawyer…” Quinn’s voice faltered.
“Quinn, he’s not going anywhere. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but now’s as good a time as any. DI Marshall has been able to connect Brett to the rental car. He located CCTV footage of Brett driving the car just before Jo was killed. It seems that Brett did some evasive maneuvers after he struck her, but not before. He drove directly to her house from the hostel, and there are several frames where his face is clearly visible, as well as his ring, which he was wearing at the time of his arrest this evening.
Also, they’ve done an extensive forensic work-up on the car. As you might expect, there was nothing on the bumper or the tires, and no fingerprints on the inside, but the forensic team was able to find traces of Jo’s blood and tissue behind the registration plate and on the underside of the bumper, since that part of the car would have come into direct contact with Jo when she was struck. Thankfully, they were both screwed on tight, so no cleaning agents got in during the washes. The police now have enough to conclusively prove that the car was the one used in the hit-and-run.”
“So, he’ll go down for murder?” Quinn asked, her heart leaping with hope.
“Most likely he’ll be charged with leaving the scene of an accident, since I’m sure he’ll claim that’s what it was, and involuntary manslaughter, but he’ll also be charged with attempted murder,” Drew added. “DI Marshall has the cyanide capsules in his possession, and there’s Emma’s account of what happened. She heard everything Brett said to you.”
“Will a statement from an eight-year-old girl who was hiding upstairs be enough to convict him?” Quinn asked.
“Probably not, but the recording she made on her phone will go a long way to proving his guilt,” he replied, grinning broadly.
“She recorded the conversation?” Quinn asked, incredulous.
“She sure did. You have one smart kid there,” Drew said. “She forwarded the recording to the detective who arrived at the scene and he, in turn, sent it to DI Marshall.”
“Has Brett called his parents?”
“He hasn’t been granted his phone call yet, so no. They have no idea what happened tonight. At least I hope they don’t,” Drew amended. “Quinn, may I offer you a word of advice?”
“Sure,” Quinn replied, her mind still on Kathy and Seth.
“Please, seek professional grief counseling, especially for Emma. People tend to say they’re all right and think they will not suffer long-lasting effects, but they do. Every time.”
Quinn nodded. “We will. You have my word.”
“Would you like me to sit with you for a while, or would you prefer a moment alone?”
“I’m really not sure. I feel like my soul is hovering just above us, watching tonight’s events from a distance. I can’t seem to reconcile myself to the fact that this actually happened, and that Gabe and I might have been dead had Emma changed her mind and gone to Jill’s instead of remaining at home.”
“Gabe risked his life to save you,” Drew said gently.
“I know,” Quinn said, a sob erupting from somewhere deep inside her. Drew put his arm around her and drew her close, holding her until the weeping subsided.
Quinn hastily wiped her eyes and plastered a smile on her face when she saw Emma and Jude coming down the corridor, Emma’s hands full of colorful packages.
“We got one of each,” she announced as she showed Quinn her loot. “Take whichever ones you like.”
Quinn wasn’t very hungry but reached out a took a bar of chocolate, though she didn’t bother to open it. She’d save it for later. All four of them went quiet and watched Dr. Chan as he came toward them. He looked
grim.
“Let’s take another walk, Em,” Jude instantly said.
“No. I want to hear what the doctor has to say,” Emma said. “I’m old enough.”
“Of course,” Jude agreed after Quinn nodded to him.
“How is Gabe, Dr. Chan?” Quinn asked. She felt breathless once again, her anxiety coursing through her veins like poison.
“He’s going to be all right, but the surgeon has made the decision to remove the kidney. It couldn’t be saved.” He looked at Quinn with great sympathy. “Mr. Russell will be in theater for another two hours, at least, and then you won’t be able to see him while he’s in recovery. May I suggest that you go home and get some rest? Your daughter looks exhausted,” he added under his breath. “I will call you once they transfer him to a room. You will not be able to see him before then.”
Quinn opened her mouth to argue but changed her mind. As much as she wanted to be there for Gabe, she was shattered, and Emma looked done in. Going home for a few hours seemed a good idea.
“Thank you, Dr. Chan. I’ll wait for your call,” Quinn said.
“I’ll take you home,” Drew offered. “I brought my car.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jude announced as they walked toward the lift. “No arguments,” he added.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Quinn said.
Jude put his arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Quinn balked when they returned to the house. Flashes of what had happened left her shaky and tearful.
“Go upstairs,” Jude ordered. “I will clean up,” he said, diplomatically not referring to the blood by name.
Emma swept Rufus, who’d come limping into the foyer, into her arms and hugged him tight before running upstairs to her room. Rufus would need to be seen by a veterinarian, but he didn’t seem badly hurt.
The Lost (Echoes from the Past Book 9) Page 28