He snaked forward until he could see Chloe once more. She was out in the open, but he had to get to her! She could still be alive and if he could drag her here to where the cover was, they might be able to save her. It was a split-second decision, and then he was moving.
He charged forward, grabbed Chloe’s ankle and then lunged back toward the fountain. A bullet spit up dirt near his feet. He grunted and tugged with all his might. Something snatched at his sleeve near his shoulder, and then he was back behind the protective wall of the fountain, once more.
From the corner of his mind he registered that Kyra seemed to have recovered from her momentary descent into shock. She was on the phone and it sounded like she was talking to the 911 operator. Where had her phone been?
He listened even as he set to work assessing Chloe’s injuries. The shot to her head wasn’t as bad as he’d first feared. The bullet had grazed along the skin of her forehead, and blood was everywhere. He could see the white of bone, but it didn’t appear to have penetrated her skull. He blew out a breath of relief.
Kyra said. “Three shots, yes. And one young girl critically wounded.”
Case tugged off his sweatshirt and turned it inside out. He pressed the clean side of the material to the gash in Chloe’s head. Feeling for her pulse.
There was a pause in Kyra’s end of the conversation. “I don’t know…” The wide set of her eyes and the paleness of her face told him the question the operator had just asked her.
He tried to offer a reassuring expression. “She’s alive. Tell them the bullet just grazed her. But she likely has a fractured skull. Her pulse is fast and light.”
Kyra relayed the information. Thanked the operator. And hung up. His earlier fleeting question of where her phone had been was answered when she tucked the iPhone into the top of one of her boots.
She scooted closer to him, peering down at Chloe with a worried frown. “I’m sorry that I lost it there for a second. What can I do to help?”
Keeping the compress against Chloe’s forehead, Case reached out to squeeze Kyra’s hand. The truth was, she was doing really great for someone who’d never been trained on how to respond to all the adrenaline that pulsed through people in situations like this. But if he could get her to take over with Chloe, he could get to work tracking down the shooter. It would take the police some time to get here, and by that time it might be too late.
“I need to go after the shooter. Do you think you could stay here with Chloe until the paramedics can get to you?”
She nodded, but her gaze was fixed on his left shoulder. “You’re bleeding.” She reached for him.
He glanced down. Frowned. Blood gushed down his arm, soaking him all the way to his wrist. Yet he wasn’t feeling any pain.
Kyra pegged him with a look. “Do you have a pocket knife?
He nodded. He never went anywhere without one.
“Good. Give it to me.” When he complied, she took over holding the compress to Chloe’s head while demanding, “Off with your T-shirt. I need to look at that wound. You can’t go chasing someone down in your condition. We have to stop the bleeding first!”
Case followed her directions, and then wished he hadn’t. The wave of pain hit him like a fifty-foot tidal wave. Another bullet spat chunks of rock off the top of the fountain’s base.
They both flinched lower.
Kyra was furiously working with something on his sweatshirt, but she glanced at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”
He wasn’t sure. He glanced down at his arm, which was now bare. Thankfully, he could see an exit wound. A bullet must have entered his bicep from the front and exited out the back. He pulled in a breath, willing down the pain and nausea coursing through him.
When Kyra scrambled to his side he realized he’d forgotten to reply.
She assessed the wound. “Never mind, I can see that you’re not. Here.” She had worked the elastic band from the hem of his sweatshirt free and cut it in half so that it was a long stretchy strip. She tied one knot in it, measured it against the width of his arm and tied another knot, then tied the whole thing around his arm good and tight with both knots pressed to the entrance and exit wounds. She was barely done before she dropped a soft kiss against his shoulder and then belly-crawled back to Chloe. “You’re good to go,” she said over her shoulder. “Just come back to me, Case.”
He was suddenly reluctant to leave her. What if the shooter saw him leave and came around to get a better shot? She might be left vulnerable and alone. He rubbed at his forehead trying to decide what to do, then gritted his teeth when no ready answer came to mind. This was why there was a rule about never getting involved with someone while undercover. It messed with decision making.
His phone chimed and he pulled it from his back pocket. A text from Mick. “Text to Radell came from a burner. But new 911. Come home ASAP.” With a grunt of frustration, he shoved it back in his pocket. Mick was just going to have to wait a bit.
In the distance he heard the sound of the approaching sirens. Kyra would have help soon, but no one would be able to get to her and Chloe until the active shooter was cleared from the area. That spurred him forward.
Crouching low, he sprinted for the nearest cover, which was an overturned trash can. Snatching it up, he hissed against the pain and raced for the stone building that housed the park’s bathrooms just ahead.
Bullets chased him, but each ended up harmlessly in the dirt. And he was thankful to have them aimed at him. That way he knew the shooter hadn’t moved yet.
Once he was behind the building, he tossed the trash can aside.
Anger burgeoned in the place of the shock and adrenaline and pain.
Whoever this shooter was, they were going down. Right now!
The kid disappeared behind the bathrooms and panic suddenly began to set in. From there he could make a straight line up into the woods and come around from behind. There would be no good shots. Besides it was clear that more time at the shooting range was needed.
Is he really coming to find me? Or just trying to escape?
Either way, it was time to go. Even if the kid was just making an escape, the sound of sirens had grown louder now. It was time to get moving. Fingers hurried to dismantle the rifle. Fumbled. Faltered. Floundered.
Calm down!
A breath in. Hold for the count of three. Release. Repeat. Trembling stopped. And disassembling the weapon resumed.
Cop cars screeched to a halt in the parking lot.
Ten seconds. Maybe less before capture was imminent.
Leave it!
But the last two sections were apart now. Shoved into the bag. Bag to shoulder. Walk calmly. Straight down to the park.
A curse burst out. None of this should have been necessary!
A huge cement planter that held a cascading lace-leaf maple, vibrant orange from all the recent cooler weather, provided cover to cower behind. With arms curled over ears in pretense of terror, there was a moment to assess.
At least Chloe had gone down. That was the main concern. It would have been better if a second shot could have been put into her. But Case had grabbed her before the thought had registered.
Had she been speaking to Case and the strange girl long enough to reveal anything damaging? Hopefully, the shot had taken her down before she had said anything incriminating. It had appeared that the two girls were engaged in a jealous squabble, so maybe they’d only been meeting as friends and a fight had broken out over the boy. Maybe Chloe’s purpose hadn’t been to tell them anything at all.
Hopefully.
And yet hope was no foundation to build a criminal career on.
Teeth clenched tight. She better not have revealed information!
No new texts had been sent to Kyra, so that was good. Still, it might be good to go back to her place and take her out just to prevent any of the other kids from talking to her. But then… Another curse. With each need for cleanup came additional risk. Taking her out might reveal more than wanted. Ho
pefully this action against Chloe would speak loud and clear to the other kids.
Speaking of kids… Who was the goth girl? Had she come over on the ferry? An old girlfriend of Case’s maybe? Likely. But none of that was what piqued the curiosity.
Something tugged for attention—rattled at the back of the mind.
The boy’s reactions after the first shot… Those weren’t the reactions of an untried high school kid, were they? The way he’d tackled goth-girl down behind the fountain. Then risked himself to pull Chloe out of danger. Precise. Quick. Effective. Using cover to his best advantage.
Almost military in movement? Or… A gasp slipped free. A cop?!
Just then stealthy footsteps sounded and a man spoke from just behind. “We think it’s safe to move people now. If you’ll come with me we’d like to evacuate the park.”
All oxygen seemed to vanish upon recognition of the voice.
Sheriff Holden Parker.
Muscles tensed so violently that the officer had to have noticed.
Breathe just breathe! Holden doesn’t know anything.
Slowly, muscles relaxed. Arms uncurled, hefted the bag, slung it over one shoulder. And then with forced ease and a smile that hopefully looked more normal than it felt, the shooter turned and looked Holden in the face.
His brows shot up. “It’s you! Are you alright?”
What was a normal reaction? Trepidation. Definitely shock. The hand visible around the strap of the bag did plenty of shaking anyway. A little added tremor to the fingers used to scoop at a strand of hair added to the picture of a terrified trauma survivor. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Holden reached out and took an elbow. Pulled until they were both over the curb and onto the grass. “Did you see anything?”
More trembling, and this time there was no need for theatrics. A shake of the head. “No. Not really. I was sitting on this bench enjoying a cup of coffee”—a convenient detail able to be inserted because of the Java and Juice cup that lay empty on its side on the bench—“and when the shooting started I dove for cover.”
Holden gave a sympathetic twist of his lips. “Alright. Well, come this way. We are asking everyone who was in the park today to wait over here by the play structure. But one of the students was injured by a bullet. I may need you to talk to her if you feel up to it? Sometimes kids will reveal something to someone they trust more easily than to a cop.”
“Of course. I’m always happy to help.” Lips pressed together, the shooter refused to allow the smile of triumph to emerge. Providence, it seemed, was smiling down today.
If Chloe was alive, this was the opportunity to finish her off.
CHAPTER 15
Kyra prayed for Case like she had never prayed before. And as she knelt over an unconscious Chloe she prayed for her too. Thankfully, there wasn’t much she needed to do other than to keep the compress firm against Chloe’s forehead, because her hands trembled to the point of near uselessness.
And she wasn’t at all sure that it was because she had just been shot at. The trembling had started deep inside the moment Case’s lips had touched hers and had magnified tenfold the moment she’d seen that wound in his shoulder.
She knew for Case the kiss had just been part of the cover. But wow! Silken lips framed by the texture of several days of raspy stubble. And despite the fact that they’d been role-playing, she’d appreciated that he had tempered the kiss with gentleness and subtlety. She felt another curl of desire just at the memory! It was a good thing she had been deep in her role as Darcy. Otherwise her knees might have buckled and her reaction would have given away the whole ruse.
And then he’d been shot. And was currently headed into the face of danger to try and stop a would-be killer.
Her trembling grew worse. And she renewed her fervent prayers. Jesus, just bring him back to me, please? I’ll give another try at relationship if You’ll please keep him safe! Put guardian angels on every side of him and please stop the bleeding in his arm and don’t let there be any lasting effects from that gunshot wound.
Just thinking the words gunshot wound made her feel faint.
Was the shooter the same person who had been doling out drugs to the kids? If so, why had they suddenly switched to such aggression?
Chloe moaned, rolling her head from side to side.
“Chloe!” Relief at having her alive and moving was juxtaposed with the fear that she might do real damage to herself by thrashing around. “Lie still! Just lie still. I’ve got you.” Kyra cupped the girl’s cheeks in her hands to keep her head in one place. Like Case had said, the likelihood of a fractured skull was high. Plus, though no more shots had come for several minutes, the shooter could still be out there. If Chloe tried to sit up she could put herself in more danger.
Something at the back of her mind pulled for her attention. Why had Chloe been a target in the first place? She was just a kid!
“What happened?” Chloe’s words weren’t much more than a rasp. But then her eyes widened and she tried to lift her head even as her hand fumbled to feel the ground close to her. “My phone! Where’s my phone?”
“Shhhh!” Kyra tried to reassure her. Crazy teens and their phones. “You were shot, but I think you are going to be fine. I just need you to lie still, okay? Help is on the way.”
“My phone.” Chloe insisted. “Can’t let ’em find it!”
“I don’t have your phone, sweetie. It’s over where you fell…” Even as she said the words her focus drifted to where Chloe’s bright red phone lay clearly visible out on the grass.
The sensation that had earlier whispered for Kyra’s attention leapt up and this time demanded that she pay attention. There was something here that she should realize.
“Listen.” Chloe clutched at her. “Have to…give it…to…the cops. Tell them…protect…Miss…Radell.” She tapped at the sweatshirt still pressed against her wound. “My fault.” With that, Chloe slumped once more into unconsciousness.
Cops? Miss Radell? Her fault?
Every thought seemed to be working its way through sludge before it registered. But it was only a moment later that Kyra’s heart slammed against her rib cage.
The phone! The texts! Her eyes widened and she returned her focus to the iPhone out on the grass.
Had Chloe been the one who sent her those texts this morning? And if so, had the dealer somehow found out about it? Decided to eliminate Chloe to protect his identity? That would mean that the shooter and the drug dealer were in fact probably the same person! And Chloe knew who they were! She had to get to that phone and she had to tell Case!
Chloe needed to be put under protective custody!
Footsteps drew her attention to their right.
She’d never before been more relieved to see an officer approaching. She tipped her head toward the trees where the shots had been coming from. “Shots were coming from up there.” Did the man know about Case? Since she didn’t know the answer to that question, she decided to leave him out of it. But wait… What if one of the officers saw him moving and took a shot at him?
“There’s a…student headed in that direction. Case Sheridan.”
The man gave no indication whether he knew Case was a cop or not. He only nodded. “We have officers on it. I need you to scoot back but stay under cover. I’m going escort these paramedics over there so they can start working on her. Alright?”
“Yes.” Kyra happily complied, scooting forward to make more room for the others behind the cover of the low wall. “The shot grazed her just above her brows. She just woke up a moment ago. I tried to keep her as still as possible.”
One of the paramedics spoke into the mic on his shoulder. “Victim is unconscious with massive head trauma. Prep an OR. ETA, fifteen minutes.”
Her gaze returned to Chloe’s phone. Only a few feet away, but it might as well be across the ocean.
And yet… No shots had been fired for several minutes. Didn’t it stand to reason that the shooter would have packed up and run t
he moment the sirens sounded? Yes. It did. And if Chloe wanted the cops to have the phone, it most likely had evidence on it!
Just go get it.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to the officer, and then she lurched forward.
“Hey! Come back here!”
Kyra had intended to run all the way to the phone, snatch it up, and return to cover, but the moment she got out in the open it was as though her body refused her command to keep moving. Frozen in a half scrunch, shoulders curled up around her ears, she held her breath. Was she about to be shot?
“You can’t go out—” The officer’s words fell away when no shots came.
Relief released her and she hurried forward, but Simon Hall was already there, bending down to pick up the phone. He was still wearing his jogging clothes. His backpack was slung over one shoulder. Behind him, Sheriff Holden Parker was also escorting Principal Vaughan, who must have been either coming from or going to a meeting because he had that large satchel briefcase he always carried. A few others who’d been in the park trailed in their wake, and a very shaken Ashley Adams, who also wore exercise clothes and carried a gym bag, leaned on the sheriff’s arm.
Kyra’s attention returned to the phone. Her mouth went dry at the sight of it in Simon’s hand. She remembered Case’s words of caution about him.
He inspected it slowly, then lifted his gaze to hers, brows furrowing. “Were you coming for this? Risking your life for a phone?”
She nodded. “It’s Chloe’s. She was injured. And she wants it.” She held out her hand for it, willing away her quavering, but Simon ignored her.
He brushed past her. “Yeah. The sheriff asked the three of us”—his gesture took in Ashley and Principal Vaughan—“to come over. He thought that since Chloe has known all of us for years, our familiar faces might soothe her a bit until her parents can get here.”
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