Angel felt numb and nauseous and hot and cold all at the same time. Her knees buckled, and Nick caught her on the way down. He eased her onto the rim of the bathtub.
“Stay put,” he ordered when she tried to push herself up. He wet a washcloth with cool water and placed in on the back of her neck. “Keep your head down.”
She offered a mild objection but did as she was told.
“Your dad’s on his way,” Nick said. “He’ll take you home.”
Angel felt too sick to argue. By the time the dizziness had passed, her father had arrived and with him, her partner, Eric Mason.
Eric looked around and whistled. “Looks like someone’s trying to get even.” His concerned blue eyes met Angel’s. “You okay?”
She sighed. “I’ll manage.”
Frank Delaney’s angry gaze traveled around the apartment, finally settling on her. “Come on, little girl. Let these guys do their job. I’m taking you home.”
Little girl
. He hadn’t called her that in a long time. But she didn’t argue. Like a robot, she walked outside with Frank on one side, Eric on the other.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” Eric said. “We’ll find out who did this. I promise.”
“Darn right, we will,” Frank added. Then he suggested they go around to the back of the apartments to escape the reporters. At the moment, Angel didn’t care about the reporters or anything else. She just wanted to get as far away as possible. When she and her dad reached his patrol car, which was parked about a block and a half away, Eric went back to her apartment.
“I can’t believe this,” Frank grumbled as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. “Revenge, that’s what it is, pure and simple. Probably that Broadman fella. He as much as said he planned to get even.”
Angel started to go around to the passenger side and stopped. “Dad, wait. I can’t leave.”
“Of course, you can.” He took hold of her arm, guiding her as though she were a child. Angel pulled away. “I’m not going anywhere. I need to stay here and clean up this mess.”
He huffed. “What’s the matter with you? The boys won’t be done sifting through the evidence for hours yet. You need to be someplace safe. You need to come home.”
“No. You go ahead, Dad. Tell Ma I’m okay. I’ll stay a while and maybe come to the house later.”
Frank shook his head. “Angel...”
“Don’t. The last thing I need is a lecture on how stubborn and mule headed I am.”
Her father looked stricken. His ruddy complexion took on an ashen tone.
“Dad?” Her refusal to go with him couldn’t have caused the change. What was the matter with him?
Frank took a step back, connecting with another patrol car. He gasped for air, grabbing at his chest as his knees buckled. His face contorted in pain as he dropped to the blacktop.
She dropped down beside him. “Dad, what is it?”
He gasped and pressed a hand to his chest.
Angel’s heart skidded to a stop. She’d been on enough emergency calls to know he was having a heart attack; she just couldn’t bring herself to believe it was happening to him. “Where’s your phone?” She reached around to his right side, pulled his cell phone from his belt, and punched in 911.
She knelt beside him as he twisted around and tried to sit up. “I’m okay,” he gasped. “Just a twinge.” He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt then pulled out a small vial of nitroglycerin tablets and fumbled with the cap. “Need to take one of these.”
Angel pushed his hand away. “Let me get it.” With shaky hands she removed a tiny tablet and gave it to him. He placed it under his tongue.
“How long have you had nitroglycerin tablets?” she asked as she replaced the top.
“Couple... of... months.”
“You got heart trouble and didn’t tell me. I suppose you haven’t told Ma either.”
“Didn’t want to worry her. You know how she is.... Besides, it’s nothing.” He winced again as he tried to stand.
“Don’t move. You know better than to—”
Her lecture was interrupted by screaming sirens as the ambu-lance careened toward them. A few media people, curious about the sirens, began showing up but had the good sense not to interfere.
Minutes later Frank was hooked to an IV and he and Angel were heading for the hospital in the back of the ambulance. The EMTs verified her suspicions—her dad was having a heart attack. But they wouldn’t know for certain how bad it was until the doctor ran some tests.
Angel gripped the gurney.
He’s not going to die
.
Frank placed a beefy hand on top of hers. “If... if I don’t make it...”
“Don’t talk like that. You aren’t going to die. Since when did a little thing like a heart problem stop a Delaney, huh?” She wanted to yell at him for not telling the family about it and for continuing to work when he had a life-threatening condition. She shook her head. “What were you thinking?” she whispered as she placed her free hand over his.
God, please let him be okay
.
When they arrived at the hospital, several of the emergency room staff met them at the door, and while they whisked her father inside, they left Angel to answer questions and fill out papers.
Her father had been taken to a room and was already hooked up to a monitor when she was finally able to see him. An army of attendants in scrubs, masks, and gloves surrounded him. Someone broke the pack—a lab tech carrying a tray and vials of blood. The monitor showed an erratic heart rhythm, but the beep reassured her that he was alive.
Suddenly, the blips gave way to a long steady beep. He’d flatlined. Angel felt as if her own heart had stopped as well. A guy in a white jacket and black slacks began barking orders while grabbing paddles off the cart. The paddles connected with her father’s chest, and the jolt raised him off the table.
“We’re losing him, people!” someone shouted.
She wanted to turn and run but couldn’t move. She bit into her fist.
Don’t let him die. Just please don’t let him die
.
A woman in a white lab coat, holding a chart, approached her. “You’re his daughter?”
Angel managed a nod.
“I’m Marley Dale.” Her name tag identified her as a nursing coordinator, whatever that was. “Let’s go out to the waiting room.”
“Can’t I stay here?”
“It’s better that you don’t.”
Angel let herself be ushered out of the room. “Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know.” Marley adjusted her glasses. “Dr. Larson is one of our best cardiologists. He’ll do what he can.”
Angel followed the woman into a room equipped with numerous chairs and love seats. Dozens of magazines were scattered on several tables. A coffee station had been set up in the far corner.
“We need a medical history on Mr. Delaney.”
“I already filled out some forms.”
“I know, but unfortunately we’ll need more than what you gave us.”
Angel had done the best she could with what she remembered, but there were too many questions she’d had to leave unanswered. She glanced around for a phone. “I need to call my mother. She’ll be able to give you the information you need.”
The woman touched her arm. “There’s a phone over here.” She pointed to a cubicle in the corner to their right.
Angel punched the numbers in and waited. No answer. She was just hanging up when she heard her mother’s voice in the hallway. “Where is he?”
“Take it easy, Mrs. Delaney. I’ll find out.” The masculine voice belonged to Eric.
“Where’s Angel? She should be here.” Her mother sounded almost frantic.
“I’m here, Ma.” Angel stepped into the hall. “I was just trying to call you.”
“Well, thank the good Lord I didn’t have to wait that long. Eric came to get me.”
Angel gave him an awkward glance. “Thanks.” He and the others would have heard dispatch and known the ambulance was bringing them in.
“What happened?” Eric and her mother asked together.
“He’s had a heart attack.” She didn’t add the fact that he’d been angry with her. Why couldn’t she have just gone along? She tried to tell herself that her compliance wouldn’t have made a difference, but she couldn’t quite convince herself.
“Oh, Angel.” Ma wrapped her arms around her daughter. “And right after having your apartment broken into. You must’ve been scared to death.”
Terrified
. “I’m okay.”
“It’s a good thing you were there with him.” Turning from Angel, Anna headed for the door. The frightened look was gone, replaced by sheer determination. “I want to see him.”
“He’s being worked on right now. They might not let you go in.”
“Let them try and stop me.”
“Ma. Wait.” Angel hurried after her.
Being a volunteer at the hospital twice a week, her mother didn’t need to be shown where anything was. She stopped a nurse coming out of her husband’s room. “Frank Delaney, he’s my husband and—”
“Oh, Mrs. Delaney, I’m glad you’re here. He’s asking for you.” The nurse placed her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “You can go in, but only for a minute. He needs to rest.”
“He’s okay then?” Anna clutched her purse to her chest.
“He’s stabilized for now. Dr. Larson will give you more details later.”
Angel leaned against the wall outside the room while her mother went inside.
Come on, Angel, pull yourself together
. She’d dealt with plenty of emergencies and had managed just fine. But this was her father.
She sucked in a long breath. She knew she should walk to the phone and call Tim and Susan, but her knees had turned to mush. If she moved away from the wall, she’d slide to the floor.
Eric came up beside her. “You don’t look so good.”
She straightened and took a wobbly step. When he grabbed hold of her elbow to steady her, she bristled. “I have to call Tim and—”
“I already did. He and Susan are on their way over.”
“Efficient, aren’t you?” She glanced up at him. She hadn’t meant to sound so cranky. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no problem. I wouldn’t be in the greatest mood either. And it wasn’t my efficiency—it was your mom’s. She asked me to
call while we were in the car. They should be here any minute. In the meantime, maybe we should wait in the waiting room. You look like you could use a chair. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
“The coffee’s free.”
He grinned. “I know.”
Somehow she managed to walk without Eric’s help, and plopped down in the first chair she came to. Eric headed straight for the coffee machine, pulled a cup from the stack, and pushed down the black lever. He came back with two cups and handed one to Angel. “Here you go, straight up. Looks strong enough to eat with a fork.”
“Thanks.” Angel took the cup, staring into it for a long time before bringing it to her lips. It was bitter, but she hoped it would give her the jolt she needed.
Seconds later, Tim and Susan came in. “Sorry to take so long,” Tim said as he leaned down to give Angel a hug.
“We had to find a sitter for the kids.” Susan clasped Angel’s hand and took the chair next to her.
“We heard what happened at the apartment,” Tim said. “And then Dad having this heart attack. Seems like everything is hitting all at once.”
Angel frowned. “Ma’s with him.”
Susan nodded. “I’ll go see what I can find out. Can I get you anything?”
Ever the nurse
. Angel shook her head and blinked back tears.
Susan squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Tim started to sit beside Angel and changed his mind, going to the coffeepot instead. “Thanks for bringing Mom,” he said to Eric.
“No problem. I figured I’d save you some time.” He took a sip of his coffee, made a face, and tossed it into the trash. “I’d better be getting back to work.”
Tim thanked him again. “Appreciate your help, Eric.”
Eric nodded and turned to Tim. “Don’t let Angel go home tonight, okay? The apartment isn’t livable, and the crime lab guys are still working on it.”
Angel started to protest, but the words caught in her throat. She sipped at the bitter coffee. In the distance she heard the elevator ding and the door swish open. Tim set his coffee on the table and lowered himself into the chair.
“You look exhausted, sis. Why don’t you go to the house and get some rest? There isn’t much you can do here and—”
“Ma won’t leave. She’d be upset if I did.”
“She’ll understand—what with all you’ve been through.”
Tim was right. Ma probably would understand. But Angel wasn’t going anywhere—not until her father was stable.
W
hat do you mean the evidence isn’t there?” Callen cradled the phone between his jaw and shoulder and settled his elbows on Joe Brady’s desk. Joe had gone out and offered to let Callen use his office for a couple hours. “I left written instructions for the clerk here to send it out first thing Monday morning with specific orders to get your people on it right away.”
He rubbed his forehead. This was not the time to be losing evidence. As the investigating officer, he had the responsibility of gathering the evidence and making certain it got to the crime lab in Portland. Before he’d gone home Sunday evening, he’d pulled everything together in the officer-involved shooting: Angel’s gun and magazine from Nick, her uniform, her urine sample, the swabs he’d done for the GSR test, the stuff that had been in the Hartwell kid’s pockets, along with his clothes. He’d even included the hollow point bullets the medical examiner had recovered during the autopsy. Callen had packaged it all up himself and put it in the temporary evidence locker, leaving explicit instructions with the clerk that it be sent via UPS Monday morning so it would arrive in Portland on Tuesday. He should have double-checked with the clerk yesterday to make certain it had actually gone out.