Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (42 page)

He caught her watching him fuss with the final details of his appearance.  The uniform was snug at the waist, but otherwise a good fit.  How fortuitous that he and the young man he’d killed were approximately the same size.  Brady smirked, his face a swollen mask of bruises and drying blood.  He was virtually unrecognizable. 

Which was what the bastard intended.

“How do I look?”

Something close to hatred swelled through Sadie in a wave.  On top of all the misery, the death, that had been wrought from his hand, his smug expression was simply too much.

But when he picked up his gun, turned it on Rick, sick panic superseded hatred.  

“Any last words?” Brady asked ironically, because not only was Rick gagged but he was now drugged as well.  Completely and totally helpless.  Unless Sadie could free herself from her restraints.

Please, she thought, moving her hands a little bit faster. The vague slickness of what must be blood began to stream from her numb fingers.  The rope slipped, gave just enough that she could work one hand through the opening. 

Her cell phone trilled, Brady brought it lazily to his ear and snapped out a demanding “Well?”

She didn’t need to hear the other end of the conversation to know that Kathleen was attempting to stall for time.  To buy Rick a reprieve, work out a compromise that didn’t include Declan, do everything within her power to forestall what Sadie feared might be inevitable.  Brady had made his demand so unreasonable to begin with because he had no intention of holding up his end.

“I’m afraid that’s not acceptable,” he said into the phone as he positioned his weapon.  He aimed it first at Rick’s head, shifted it to his chest.  “The deal was for your brother, Detective, or Mr. Carlisle’s heart will be...  permanently broken.”

Please, Sadie thought again as Rick’s heavy eyelids fluttered.  She wondered if he’d heard the threat, suspected he was about to die.

Guilt was an arrow through her own heart as she continued to fight the bindings.

“Uh-huh, let me think about that…  I’m afraid I have to say no. Goodbye, Detective.  It’s a shame we couldn’t do business.” 

Brady sat the phone down, the connection still open, and turned toward her with a wink.

And Sadie’s heart was the one that shattered when the gun inevitably went off.

“WHAT’S
happening?  What the hell’s happening?” Declan’s voice rose right along with his concern as he noticed the subtle but unmistakable shift in the atmosphere around them.  The uniformed cops pushed the gathered crowd further back, while across the parking lot Kim and several others were huddled in a strategizing knot, their furtive hand gestures radiating tension.  His gaze flicked toward the snipers positioned on the hospital’s rooftop, noted the readiness with which they focused their sites on the two vehicles.  Something was going down.

And he was sitting here like a lump in this damn wheelchair.

“Rogan, I don’t care what wiles you have to use, but tell Kim to get me over there.  Now.”

“Now son,” his dad tried to calm him as he started to rise, the hand he placed on Dec’s shoulder heavy with the fear he felt for his family.  And when the first gunshot sounded, that pressure combined with Declan’s start of surprise
, to throw him off balance. He pitched sideways over the edge of the chair, landed hard on his fractured ribs.  Starbursts of pain flashed just as chaos rained down, people screaming, running, the cops yelling to “stay calm!” while their black-clad SWAT counterparts swarmed the wrecked cars like ants on a Sunday picnic.

Declan shook off the latest assault to his person, Rogan scrambling around the wheelchair to assist him to his feet. His long hair tangled in the hand that Declan threw around his neck for stability.  Wild-eyed, Dec fought to free himself from his brother just as another shot reverberated from within the SUV’s interior.

“Sadie!” he screamed, her name ripped like a prayer from his throat.  And the anguish was so raw, so fresh in his otherwise numb body, that it overrode the drugs, the splints and the broken bones and propelled him forward through the crush of people as easily as a shark passes through water.  Rogan’s restraining hands were no more than some passing seaweed that he shook off. 

He pushed his way past the distracted cops, caught a glimpse of his sister as she burst forth from her vehicle.  Her cell phone was pressed to her ear with one hand, with the other she signaled wildly to the SWAT team members.  One of them yanked open the tailgate to the battered SUV, and a dark clad figure emerged shakily, hands raised just above his head.  The guy’s face was battered, too swollen and bloody to identify, but Dec quickly registered the familiarity of the uniform.  

It had to be the young cop who’d been guarding his door.

Hope welled as he moved closer, the gunshots taking on new meaning.  Was it possible the cop had overpowered Marshall, that Sadie was still alive? 

His body pushed forward with renewed focus, every fiber in his being straining to get closer to the woman he loved.  One of the uniforms working crowd control finally spotted him, called out a furious warning that held no meaning.   He was operating on some primitive level that didn’t allow room for other concerns.

Kathleen was in the thick of things, issuing orders to the arriving paramedics as she scrambled into the open back of the SUV.  Dec called her name and behind him heard the angry voice of the cop, followed closely by an apologetic Rogan. 

He veered sharply between two parked vehicles, ducked some caution tape that the police had strung. 

Heart pounding hard enough to break his bruised ribs, he broke into a flat-out run.

“
KATHLEEN!”

Distantly she heard the sound of her name, but Kathleen’s attention was focused on Sadie.  Blood dotted her face and T-shirt like a macabre kind of glitter, but when Kathleen untied her hands and pulled her out of the ball she’d rolled into it became clear that the blood wasn’t hers.  Likely spatter from what was left of Marshall.  Kathleen put the image of his faceless body out of her head as she slid her fingers to Sadie’s carotid.  The pulse beat against her like a rabbit’s.  Behind her, two paramedics clambered in with their equipment at the ready, and she angled her head toward the man against the vehicle’s other side.

“Gunshot wound to the chest.”  And Kathleen was afraid it would prove fatal.  She’d heard the whole thing on her cell phone:  Marshall taking the shot, just as Officer Bainbridge appeared to come to.  They’d grappled for the weapon, Bainbridge got the upper hand, and Marshall was now lying quite dead at Richard’s feet.

“We’ve got a pulse,” one of the EMTs said “but it’s damn faint.  Let’s get this guy out of here before we lose him.”

The two men began to remove Sadie’s ex as expediently as possible from the vehicle, and Kathleen’s gut clenched as she watched them work.  Rick’s skin was turning gray.  There’d been no love lost between the two of them, but she sure as hell didn’t want him to die.

Turning back toward her friend, Kathleen gently lifted one of Sadie’s eyelids.  The pupil dilation came as no real surprise, nor did the clammy skin or racing heart.  After what Sadie had just been through it was no wonder that she was in shock.

“Sadie, can you hear me?” 

Sadie’s only response was to curl back in the ball, her body shaking all over.  A third paramedic showed up at Kathleen’s side, and she talked to him over her shoulder.

“Looks like shock,” she reported, relief and the aftershocks of blind fear making her voice unsteady.  “I can’t see any obvious injuries, but –”

“We’ll take care of her,” the man cut in.

Kathleen ran her hand over Sadie’s hair before backing out of the way.  A second paramedic jumped in to take her place just as she heard her name called again.

“Kathleen!”

She looked up to see her brother making a beeline for her, one of the locals in hot pursuit.  A couple of the SWAT team turned and took in the situation, moving to intercept Declan before she could stop them.  Knowing things would get real ugly, real fast she trotted over quickly, offering explanations and apologies before they broke his fool head.

“Sorry.  I’ve got this one, guys.  Thanks.”

“You know this man?” one of them asked, looking at Declan’s crazed state with open suspicion.  He hadn’t released his grip from Dec’s arm.  At least he’d grabbed the one that wasn’t broken.

“He’s my brother, yeah, and that’s his girlfriend they’re pulling out of that truck.  She’s okay,” she said quickly to Declan, before he did something that would land him in jail.  Okay might have been an overstatement, but it was what he needed to hear right now.

The SWAT guy relinquished his grip on Dec with a frown.  Dec didn’t even seem to notice, his attention focused solely on the SUV.

“I need to see her,” he said through his teeth, the words labored with unsteady breathing.

“We can’t have civilians traipsing through our crime scene, Detective,” the other officer stated with disapproval.

“I assure you there’ll be no traipsing involved.”

He glared, and she matched the expression.  Dec ignored them both and started homing in on the SUV.

“I’ve got it,” she told the other cop, grabbing Dec’s arm when the man started to protest.  Then she led him carefully around the clusters of cops and hospital personnel who were going about their business.  Several news crews – Kathleen hadn’t noticed them until now – had cameras trained their direction.  Kathleen looked at Declan’s attire and silently thanked whichever member of her family had thought to get him some sweats. This was bad enough without him being broadcast running around in a hospital gown on the evening news.

THE
EMTs were transferring Sadie to a gurney, and Declan broke free again when he saw her.  She looked small – so small and fragile, her face almost as white as the sheet, except for where it was discolored by an array of bruises – and the splattered blood marring her delicate skin had nausea churning in his stomach.  Racing to her side, he looked helplessly on as the emergency workers got her situated.

  He was afraid to even touch her.

“She’s in shock,” Kathleen said from behind him.  “The blood’s not hers – it’s either Carlisle’s or Marshall’s, as they’re the ones who sustained gunshots.  Marshall’s dead, and Rick… I don’t know if he’s going to make it.  It doesn’t look too good.  But Sadie’s clear, Dec.  No bullet wounds.”

“Sir,” the female EMT said, “we’re going to need you to step back.” 

And he reached for Sadie then, just for her hand, because he desperately needed the contact.  Her eyes flew open, wide with shock, and rolled unsteadily in his direction.

“D…. De…”

“Shh.  I’m here, baby.”  He couldn’t stop emotion from clogging his throat.  The EMT gestured to wrap it up, and he gently squeezed her fingers.  “They’re going to take you in and get you checked out, but I’ll be two steps away, I promise.”

They started to push the stretcher away, but Sadie grabbed onto his shirt and almost pulled him over.  “N… No!” she shouted, so loudly that Kathleen stepped up to see what was happening.  “N… not… d…. d-d-dead.”

Her teeth were chattering so hard that it was difficult to make out what she was saying.  But Kathleen’s run-down of the situation clicked in his head and he nodded, squashing any lingering resentment. 

“That’s right, honey.  Rick’s going to be just fine.”  Which could be patently untrue, although for Sadie’s sake he hoped the opposite.  He knew too well the guilt anything else would bring.

The gurney started to move again, the EMTs becoming annoyed as they propelled it forward, but Sadie looked to Kathleen, shaking her head, as if he was too dense for her to deal with.  “B-b-b…Brady.”  And the look in her eyes held panic.

Kathleen trotted along beside them, eyebrows drawn low over worried eyes.  “Marshall’s gone, Sadie.  I saw his body myself.”

“N-no!” she asserted again, her voice ringing clear with frustration.  “B-b-Bainbridge.  B-b-b…Brady shot his f-f-face.”

Kathleen stopped dead, Declan with her, and even the EMTs seemed to freeze in place.  “She might be confused,” one of them said, “it’s common with shock.”

But in her face Dec saw resolution.  And utter, blinding fear.

“Shit,” he said to Kathleen, and turned around to survey the chaos.  “The cop who was guarding my door.  I thought that was him when he climbed out of the truck.  But his face –”

Before he could even finish the thought, Kathleen was on her radio.  “This is Detective Murphy.  Anybody see what happened to Officer Bainbridge?”

There was a click, then a masculine voice.  “He went off to get medical attention.  I imagine he’s in the ER.”

Declan glanced at Sadie, watched her eyes flare wide, and knew that she wasn’t mistaken.  “It’s him,” he said to Kathleen, words trembling with sudden fury.  “Son of a bitch.  He’s going to just walk away.”

“Not if I can help it.”  And because she couldn’t trust radio communication in case Marshall was still in possession of his, she ran over to the remaining cluster from the SWAT team.  The EMTs stayed where they were, unsure now what to do.   

“Is Sadie in danger?” Dec asked the emergency tech who’d spoken earlier.  “I mean, does she need medical care immediately?”