Save Your Breath

by Leigh, Melinda

  Lance caught up as Morgan forced the agent’s arms behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you have zip ties?”

  “I do.” Lance handed them over.

  Morgan secured Kim’s hands. Then she sat back on her heels, breathing hard.

  Lance crouched next to her, shoving up the hem of her jacket. “Are you hurt?”

  When his hands hit the body armor, he exhaled. “You’re wearing your vest.”

  “You saw me put it on.” Morgan took off her jacket and vest.

  “I forgot.” Lance had panicked.

  She lifted the hem of her shirt. “I feel like I was hit with a hammer.”

  “You’re going to have a big-ass bruise.” Which Lance was grateful for.

  “I’ll take it.” Morgan lowered her shirt.

  Lance rolled Kim to her back. Blood bloomed from her shoulder. Morgan hadn’t missed. They’d hit each other, but Morgan had been wearing a vest and Kim had not.

  Wounded, Kim had run on sheer adrenaline. Lance patted her down for more weapons and found a folding knife in her jacket pocket. Taking it, he glanced back at Sharp, who had secured Stephen’s hands. Stephen didn’t look like he was going to do anything except maybe vomit. But Sharp checked his pockets and zip-tied his ankles together anyway, then returned to Olivia.

  Lance hauled Kim to her feet and marched her back to the clearing. He sat her down.

  “I’m bleeding,” she complained.

  With a sigh, Lance took the scarf Morgan wore to camouflage her pale face and tied it around Kim’s shoulder.

  “The police are on their way,” Morgan said. “How is Olivia?”

  “Not good.” Sharp turned to her. Olivia’s breathing was strained. She wheezed and whistled with each breath. He touched her face, and she opened her eyes. Olivia lifted a hand and reached for Sharp. He closed his fingers around hers as the sound of approaching sirens filled the woods.

  Soon, four Redhaven police cars, a paramedic unit, and an ambulance were parked in the clearing next to the lake. Sharp climbed into the ambulance with Olivia. The paramedic had started treating her immediately with inhaled and IV medications and oxygen. Her color had already improved.

  Lance put an arm around Morgan’s shoulders. She leaned her head on his shoulder. They didn’t speak at first. The physical contact was reassuring enough. The crisis had passed. No one had died—not even the Holgersens. Weariness seeped into Lance’s bones. He was wet, cold, hungry, and utterly exhausted.

  But his heart was light with elation and disbelief that they had found Olivia alive. Or maybe he was light-headed.

  “I want to go home and sleep for a week,” Morgan finally said.

  “I hear you.” Lance squeezed her arm. They hadn’t slept much since the previous Thursday. “It’s been a long four days.”

  “We’re not going to get any sleep tonight, are we?” Morgan asked.

  “Probably not.” They had a long night of questioning ahead of them, but Lance didn’t care. Everyone he cared about was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Olivia reached for the water cup on her rolling bed tray.

  Detective Stella Dane sat in the bedside chair, taking notes on a small notepad. “I can come back if you need a break.”

  “No.” Olivia sipped. “I’m almost done. I want to finish.” She wanted to put the whole incident behind her, but realistically, she knew that would never happen. She would carry the scars of her kidnapping forever.

  Would she ever be able to be alone again? Sleep without nightmares?

  She shuddered, wishing Lincoln were there. This was the first time he’d left her side since he’d found her the night before. He had been gone for twenty minutes, and she was missing him. She’d gone from being super independent to super dependent in five days.

  Olivia had already detailed the events spanning from the night she was kidnapped to her escape and rescue. “I still can’t believe my agent arranged my kidnapping as a publicity stunt. I knew she was having a tough time with her separation, and she’d been getting irritable about the book proposal I owed her, but still . . .”

  “It is bizarre,” Stella agreed. “You never had any clue as to how desperate she was?”

  “No.” Olivia thought about her last few conversations with Kim. “She did mention she was afraid she’d lose her condo, but we’d only worked together for a short time. I really don’t know her that well.”

  Olivia thought she would eventually feel betrayed, but for now, she was grateful to be alive and afraid to be alone. Maybe after she’d processed the ordeal and spent a few hundred hours in therapy, she’d get around to being angry.

  “We thought one of the killers you were investigating was innocent and the real guilty party didn’t want his case reopened,” Stella said.

  “Will Cliff Franklin get a new trial?” Olivia asked.

  “I doubt it. Joe has given us all kinds of details on the deaths of Cliff’s five other victims. If the search teams find the bodies, we’ll have evidence to back up his story. Joe didn’t want to testify against his brother until his own neck was on the line. Now he won’t shut up. Even if Cliff gets an appeal on the conviction for Brandi’s death, he’ll be facing five additional murder charges.”

  “That’s a relief,” Olivia said. “I knew I had to come forward with the information about the chain of evidence and let the legal system handle the fallout. I had already finished the book proposal, but something inside me just didn’t want to submit it. Maybe I shouldn’t be a journalist anymore.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “It’s not my job to form opinions or assume the roles of judge and jury. I’m supposed to report the truth.”

  “It’s OK to be human and not want a killer set free to hurt other people.” Stella tilted her head. “Did you ever think Erik Olander was innocent?”

  “Only briefly in the beginning. His case was interesting, though. I suspected his parents helped him invent the intruder scenario to cover up his wife’s murder.”

  Stella put away her pen and notepad. “I should let you rest, and I imagine Sharp is pacing the hallway outside the door.”

  Despite her trauma, Olivia smiled at the image.

  Stella stood. “Are you going to be all right?”

  Olivia thought about the nightmare she’d had that morning and how Lincoln had woken her and held her until she’d stopped shaking. “It isn’t going to be easy, but eventually, I think I will.”

  Sharp leaned against the wall in the hospital hallway outside Olivia’s room. He was bone-tired after sitting up all night with her. Treatments overnight had greatly improved her breathing, but her sleep had been interrupted by nightmares.

  Still, he would take this kind of tired any day over the last few days of thinking he’d never see her again.

  Morgan strode down the hospital hallway. At her side, Lance carried a teddy bear holding a GET WELL balloon. They both looked as exhausted as Sharp felt. Morgan was pale, and Lance sported dark circles under his eyes. But they were holding hands and smiling.

  Could he and Olivia be that happy together? Deep in his heart he knew the answer was yes.

  “You two didn’t get any sleep last night either?” Sharp asked as Morgan greeted him with a touch on his arm.

  “The girls woke us at six.” Morgan smiled wistfully. “Sleep is still a dream for us.”

  Lance grunted. “The kids don’t want to hear any we got in late bullshit. I couldn’t even get in the shower until after they left for school.” But under his exhaustion, he looked pleased that Morgan’s girls had missed him.

  “We’re clean and caffeinated,” Morgan said. “It’s the best we can hope for today.”

  “Is everything OK with Olivia?” Lance nodded toward the closed door.

  “Stella is taking her statement,” Sharp said. “Olivia’s asthma is much better. They have her on multiple medications.”

  The door opened, and Stella
stuck her head out. “Sharp, you can come back in now.” She didn’t seem surprised to see Morgan and Lance in the hallway. “You two might as well listen too. It’ll save me from having to repeat myself.”

  Sharp led the way into the room. He listened for wheezing but heard none. He offered Morgan the chair next to the bed, but she shook her head. Sharp eased into it, his hand reaching for Olivia’s. “You all right?”

  She nodded. “Talking about it helps.”

  He squeezed her hand. She would need counseling, but she was tough. Before Stella had come, Olivia had told him everything she could remember about her kidnapping. Sharp pictured her trying to strangle Stephen with her drawstring and digging rocks out of the dirt floor to fill the toe of her sock. He couldn’t believe she’d made two weapons out of her pajamas.

  Lance set the teddy bear on the rolling tray. “How are you?”

  “I’m going to be fine, thanks to you all,” Olivia said.

  Stella chimed in, “Kim has opted to exercise her right to remain silent. She literally has not said a single word since we arrested her. She stares at the wall in her cell. If I bring her into an interview room, she glares at me.” A conspiratorial and slightly feral smile crossed Stella’s face. “But her brother hasn’t stopped talking. He’s terrified she’s going to try to hang most of the blame on him. We might have implied that she did.”

  “It probably helps that she was going to run away and leave him at the survival camp,” Sharp added.

  “It certainly does. He was angry and hurt she would betray him after all he had done for her. He spilled the whole plan. Kim asked him to kidnap Olivia and hold her for a long weekend.” She paused for breath. “He was supposed to release her on Monday or Tuesday under the guise of wanting to hunt her down and kill her in the woods. The plan was for Stephen to let her escape. That all changed when Olivia saw his face. Once Olivia could identify Stephen, she had to die.”

  Olivia closed her eyes for a few seconds and swallowed. Her escape attempt had been her death sentence.

  “Let me guess,” Morgan said. “Kim’s husband was suing her for half the value of the condo, and she needed money to buy him out.”

  “Yes.” Stella nodded. “She’d also invested heavily in her brother’s survival school, which failed. She had no cash. She needed to bring in a significant amount of money over the next six months. She had also grown increasingly aggressive in other deals, pushing publishers to get contracts signed, not bothering to negotiate terms but rushing to close—and get paid—instead. Kim was the one leaking information to the press. She thought the media attention generated by Olivia’s kidnapping and courageous escape would make Olivia famous. Everything they did—from the anonymous call notifying the press of the bombing to pushing the car into the ravine—was all designed to keep Olivia’s story in the news and increase publicity. The film company interested in her first book was then expected to make an offer that would drive up the value of Olivia’s next book. Kim convinced her brother she could get a five-million-dollar contract on the book, at minimum, on top of the film deal. She speculated that movie studios would race to option the story of Olivia’s kidnapping.”

  “That’s crazy,” Lance said.

  “Yes,” Stella agreed. “But she was desperate, and she went a little psychopathic when her husband left her. Apparently, she had supported him for the last ten years while he lost money in the real estate market. He repaid her by cheating on her with a twenty-year-old and then suing her for half their assets. The betrayal stung. Stephen said Kim’s attachment to her condo had become obsessive.”

  “And her brother went along with the plan because he was in debt too?” Lance asked.

  “Yes,” Stella confirmed. “And he kept emphasizing that they never intended to hurt Olivia, just hold on to her for a few days. He acted as if being kidnapped wasn’t a big deal.”

  “He’d better go to prison for a long time.” Sharp blew out a hard, angry breath. “The DA better not offer him a sweet deal.”

  Stella held up a hand. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The evidence against Stephen is overwhelming. The DA is playing hardball.”

  Good.

  “What about Kennett Olander?” Lance asked.

  Stella shrugged. “His death appears to be unrelated to Olivia’s kidnapping. We suspect the LMS orchestrated his murder. The ATF and FBI are taking over the case.” She didn’t look upset. “They’ll keep me informed, but based on the organization’s size and history, I wouldn’t count on Olander’s murder being solved anytime soon. In an interesting turn of events, the ATF agent thinks Stephen Holgersen may have had some dealings with the LMS. A few suspected members were on Stephen’s student roster.”

  “That’s not so strange,” Lance said. “He ran a survivalist school.”

  Stella turned to Olivia. “Call me if you have any questions or if you remember any other details.”

  “I will,” Olivia said.

  Stella left the room.

  “Thank you so much.” Olivia sniffed. “I wouldn’t be here without all three of you.”

  “We’re just happy you’re all right.” On the other side of the bed, Morgan patted Olivia’s shoulder. “But we won’t keep you. You need to rest. Call us if you need anything.” Morgan’s gaze shifted from Olivia to Sharp. “Either of you.”

  “Thanks.” The offer made Sharp feel all mushy. Moisture filled his eyes. His emotions had been running high since they’d found Olivia. Exhaustion wasn’t helping. He didn’t have any family left, but he had the very best friends. “I hope you two are headed home for a nap.”

  “No.” Lance shook his head. “Gianna is being discharged today. We’re going upstairs to pick her up.”

  “That’s great.” Sharp stood and walked them to the door. “Thank you both. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you.”

  Morgan kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll always be there for you.”

  Lance gave him a one-armed hug and a manly back slap. “Call us later and give us an update.”

  “Will do.” Sharp watched them walk out the door. Then he returned to his chair next to Olivia. He took her hand and rubbed the smooth skin with his thumb.

  “You look tired, Lincoln,” Olivia said. “You should go home and get some sleep too.”

  “I’m staying here with you.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckle. “I’ll nap when you do.”

  “I won’t pretend I don’t feel safer with you next to me.”

  “Then that’s exactly where I’ll stay.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia’s voice was weak, but her smile was solid—and so was her grip on his hand. He had no idea where their relationship was going, but from now on, he wasn’t holding back.

  This was not the time for proclamations. They were both too strung out. When Sharp told her he loved her, he didn’t want any negative energy in the air. Because he did love her. He knew it. His eyes met hers.

  She knew it too, and maybe she loved him back.

  But she’d been through a terrible ordeal. She needed to heal, physically and mentally, before he hit her with an emotional zinger. There was no rush.

  Sharp wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  It was late afternoon when Morgan carried Gianna’s bag from the car to the front porch. Her discharge had taken longer than expected. Hospitals seemed to exist in their own time zones.

  Lance pushed ahead and opened the door. “Let me work crowd control.”

  Gianna followed them up the walk. “I’m fine. You don’t have to control anyone.”

  But Morgan worried about the temporary dialysis access. A large patch of clear tape sealed the catheter to Gianna’s chest, and Morgan didn’t want the kids or dogs to pull at the short tube. Infection was a risk, and Gianna did not need more surgery.

  They went inside. Mac had thought ahead and restrained the dogs. They barked and strained at the ends of their leashes. The girls met Gianna in
the foyer with hugs.

  Mia wiped her eyes. “I missed you.”

  “Me too.” Ava hugged Gianna’s leg. “So much.”

  Sophie jumped up and down. “Come see what we made you!” She grabbed Gianna’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen. A long banner of taped-together paper read WELCOME HOME GIANNA in blocky blue crayon.

  Gianna swiped her hands across her cheeks and hugged the three girls. “I missed you all too.”

  Sophie pushed her onto a stool. “Uncle Mac made chicken soup.”

  “You girls set out bowls and utensils.” Mac went to the range and lifted the lid from a large pot. The smell of chicken soup flooded the kitchen.

  Sophie fetched place mats and napkins. Mia counted spoons, and Ava set out bowls, one at a time. Grandpa shuffled into the kitchen with his cane.

  “Morgan, I’ll leave you to serve.” Mac took off the apron he’d been wearing. “Stella will be home any minute.” Mac ladled soup into a glass container and secured the lid. “I’m going home to have dinner with my girl.”

  “Thank you for everything, Mac.” Morgan hugged him.

  “Bye, Uncle Mac!” the girls shouted in unison.

  “Wait till Stella and I have kids. There’ll be plenty of time for payback.” He kissed the girls and left.

  Were Mac and Stella thinking about kids? They hadn’t even mentioned getting married. Her sister didn’t seem to be in a rush, but maybe Mac was trying to convince her.

  Morgan put the thought aside and enjoyed dinner with her family. Afterward, the girls cleared the bowls, and Lance volunteered to do dishes. When Gianna protested, he shook his head. “You’re on light duty for a while. Enjoy it.”

  Gianna sank back into her chair.

  Morgan took advantage of the quiet. She cleared her throat. “So we decided to postpone the wedding.”

  “Why?” Gianna’s voice rose.

  Drying his hands on a dish towel, Lance crossed the room and stood next to Morgan’s stool. They’d agreed to present a united front. Even though Olivia had been found, she was still severely traumatized, and Gianna was in rough physical shape. “We thought it would be better to wait until things settle down.”