“She’s right,” Reynolds said quietly.
Mitch wanted nothing more than to get Emily away from this place, but they were running out of time. “Get Vance out of here,” he told Reynolds. “Emily, stay behind me,” he ordered.
They ran up the stairs to the fourth floor, meeting Greggson at the top.
“All clear, except at the end,” he said. “But check this out.”
They followed him into a space with a wall full of monitors showing every room in the house.
Mitch cursed. “They knew we were here?”
“I don’t think so,” Greggson said. “This area was deserted when we arrived.”
Mitch looked at the sea of empty rooms. Except one. Kayla lay on a bed, her legs bound in stirrups, but she was fighting against the bonds. “That’s Kayla Foster. Does this thing have volume?”
Greggson flicked a few switches and turned a knob. The man in the white coat smiled, his face cold and terrifying. “Finally dilated enough, my little troublemaker. It won’t be long now. After we deliver your brat, we’re getting rid of you. Just like your friend.”
“What did you do to Vanessa?” Her forehead damp with sweat and her face streaked with tears, Kayla cried out as another contraction began.
“She’s not your concern anymore. Just push the brat out, or I’ll cut it out,” he said, nodding to the tray of instruments at his side.
“No. Don’t hurt my baby.” Kayla’s plea echoed through the speaker.
“That’s it. No more time. We’re getting her out of there now.” Mitch updated Decker and turned to Emily. “The room is soundproofed, so I’ll knock loudly. You announce yourself, then move aside. That’ll get the doctor away from her. Greggson, you go for the doctor. I’ll get the girl.”
They moved into position, and Mitch knocked on the door. He nodded at Emily.
“Doctor. I’m here,” she shouted and flattened herself against the opposite wall.
The door slid open. “It’s about time.”
“Go!” Greggson’s voice sounded in Mitch’s ear.
They rushed through the door side by side. Mitch reached Kayla just as Greggson slammed the doctor against the wall and restrained his wrists.
Once Greggson had the doctor secure with zip ties, Emily raced into the room and covered Kayla with a sheet, then knelt beside her, whispering words of comfort, holding her as the teen sobbed in her arms.
“How’s she doing?” Mitch asked, his concern for the girl growing as she cried out in pain.
“Her contractions are coming fast. She needs a hospital.”
Mitch barked out an order. Greggson communicated with Lieutenant Decker. Minutes later, paramedics were loading Kayla onto a gurney. She clutched Mitch’s arm. “Coach? Can you call my grandma? I need her.”
Mitch pushed back the blond hair from Kayla’s damp forehead. “You got it, honey. I’ll let Ricky know, too.”
She shook her head against the pillow on the gurney. “I let him down.”
“He loves you. He had faith in you. He knew something was wrong. That’s why he searched for you.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “The doctor took Vanessa, and I haven’t seen her since. Have you found her?”
Mitch met Emily’s sorrowful gaze. “Let’s get you to the hospital, Kayla. Then we can fill you in.”
Kayla wiped the tears away. “Don’t bother. He killed her, didn’t he?” She looked at the doctor, now sitting in the corner of the room being questioned by Greggson. “It’s all my fault.”
Emily leaned in closer. “No, Kayla. You can’t control what other people do.”
“You don’t understand. Vanessa and I changed our minds about giving up our babies, but we were stupid. We came back to tell the doctor. He was really mad and told us we had no choice.” Kayla rubbed her eyes and raised a haunted gaze to them. “I told Vanessa we should pretend to change our minds and wait for an opportunity to sneak out. It was working. Until the night I wanted some milk from the kitchen. We were halfway down the stairs when we saw
him
.”
Mitch instincts trilled in his mind. “Who? Vance? The cop?”
“Not him. A man. With a tattoo. He was yelling about needing a signature. He threatened the doctor. Scared him. Bad. Then Vanessa gasped. A contraction. The doctor saw us.” Kayla wiped her eyes. “I never saw her again.”
Mitch leaned over Kayla. “What kind of tattoo did this guy have?”
“The same gang tat as Ghost—a red and green devil on his wrist—but with a pink ribbon wrapped around it. Like those breast-cancer ribbons. Weird.”
“Knife!” Greggson gave a shout as a loud crash reverberated through the room.
Mitch whirled toward the noise, shoving Emily behind him to protect her. The doctor knocked the surgical tray into them as he bolted from the corner and out the door.
“He stabbed me with a syringe.” Greggson held the side of his neck. “Careful! He must’ve palmed a scalpel. He cut the zip ties.”
Mitch cursed and bolted down the hall after the doctor, all the while relaying a message to Reynolds. How had a secure scene gone downhill so fast?
The doctor grabbed the banister and tried to rush down the stairs, but by the time he reached the second floor, he was panting and doubled over. Mitch took the stairs two at a time, each jolt slamming up his leg like a firebrand. He’d pay for it later, but right now he didn’t care. He’d seen Vanessa’s crime-scene photos. Mitch was taking this murderer down.
He was just feet behind the doctor when the man frantically looked around and veered into the same bedroom Mitch and Emily escaped from earlier. Mitch followed. The missing window slats allowed the sun to bathe the room in light.
“Don’t come any closer.” The doctor paced frantically, brandishing the scalpel and searching for an escape.
“Mitch, find out what was in that syringe,” Reynolds said through the earpiece. “Fast.”
Mitch closed him and the doctor into the room. Alone. “There’s nowhere to go, and I’m not feeling friendly. So, Doc, what was in that syringe?”
“Nothing but air,” the doctor snapped. “If done right, it’s the perfect crime.”
“You catch that?” Mitch said through his earpiece.
“Air embolus,” the EMT said sharply. “Get Greggson to the hospital.”
“He’ll be fine,” the doctor said bitterly. “It was a little bubble. I didn’t even have time to hit a vein.”
“Lucky for you.”
“Oh, yeah, I really feel lucky now. Everything I’ve worked for is gone. Because of that nosy do-gooder.”
Emily slammed into the room. “Who was the man with the tattoo? The one with the pink ribbon on it? The one you’re afraid of?”
The doctor’s eyes went wide; his face paled to a grayish-white. “No way I’m talking. They’ll kill me.”
“I knew it.” Emily rushed forward. “Who are
they?
”
“Emily! Don’t—”
The doctor grabbed her before Mitch could move.
“Stay back or I’ll kill her. I got nothing left to lose.” He held the scalpel to her throat and backed toward the window.
Mitch knew the man was telling the truth. He’d kill Emily. Mitch forced his pounding pulse to slow. He had to be smart. “Doc, we can work something out.”
The guy wasn’t listening. He clutched her tighter, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have let Ghost talk me into helping the guy. Easy money, Ghost said,” the doctor muttered. “Just a birth certificate that looked legal. I didn’t know who he really was. How could I know?”
“Please. Tell me,” Emily begged. “Who has my son?”
Her eyes had taken on the desperate look Mitch had seen before. She struggled against the doctor, and he cursed. The blade nicked her neck, drawing blood. She gasped. Her eyes turned glassy. Mitch recognized the signs. Flashback. She pulled and jerked within her captor’s arms, unseeing, screaming.
“Get away from me. No! I can’t see your face. Don’t kill me. Don’t take my baby!” Tears streamed down Emily’s face. Her agonized cries broke Mitch’s heart.
“Are you crazy?” the doctor yelled. “Don’t move or I’ll slit your throat open.” Suddenly Emily stilled, almost deadly serene. He took another step back, dragging her with him. Mitch couldn’t tell if she was in shock or had come out of it. The situation could explode any second.
“I want immunity and witness protection.”
“Doc, just let her go and we’ll discuss it.” Mitch lowered his voice to a calm, easy tone.
“I don’t have time to talk. I can’t let you take me in. I won’t last a day in jail. They’ll get to me. They can get to anyone.”
“I believe you. But you have to show good faith. I need to let my bosses know you’re a reasonable man. And that you’re telling the truth. Give me something. A name. Proof.”
“You’re not listening.” The doctor backed closer to the window, Emily plastered against him as a shield. “I’ll jump. I’ll take her with me.”
“No!” Suddenly, Emily wrenched away, but to Mitch’s horror, the doctor held on. Instead of falling into the center of the room, she stumbled closer to the window. The doctor shoved her hard at the opening.
Mitch dove toward her, slamming down on his bad knee but knocking her out of the way. The doctor tripped over their falling bodies, and his momentum carried him over the edge. Mitch twisted and grabbed the man’s coat, ignoring the searing pains shooting through his leg with blinding intensity. He couldn’t pass out. Hell, a full breath would be nice.
Emily gripped the material to help Mitch hang on to the doctor as he dangled from the window.
“Save me,” he screamed. “Don’t let me fall.”
Mitch struggled to adjust his hold on the coat and, grimacing, got on his knees. “Give me a name,” he said, reaching one hand down.
“Frankie,” the doctor panted. “Please, help me up.”
Mitch braced himself, and he and Emily tugged the man up by the coat until their hands almost touched the doctor’s. Suddenly, with a loud tearing sound, the white garment gave way. The fabric split. Frantically, Mitch clutched for the man’s hand, or another part of the coat, but it was no use. The doctor fell to the ground, screaming, until his head slammed against the hard cement below and there was silence.
Mitch leaned through the open window and stared at white, sightless eyes staring back at him.
Emily hugged Mitch from behind. “We did everything we could,” she said softly.
“It wasn’t enough.” He turned into her arms and held her closer.
Shouts from below penetrated their momentary quiet.
“Mitch, you guys okay?” Decker called through the microphone.
“Fine. We’re coming down,” he said.
“Do you think Frankie is the man with the tattoo?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.” Mitch turned, and his leg collapsed under him, spasms firing up his knee and leg. He clenched his jaw to keep from turning the air a colorful shade of blue, then pulled himself up into a seated position.
She knelt beside him. “What happened?”
He gave her a small smile. “Nothing. Knee popped. Just give me a minute. I’ll be fine.”
He was lying through his gritted teeth, and Emily could see right through him. He had a feeling that this injury might very well nail the coffin shut for returning to SWAT. Strangely, the prospect didn’t devastate him as much as he’d thought it would. The injury was worth it, because Emily was safe.
He hugged her tight. She’d come too close to dying. “Don’t worry about me, Emily. I’m okay. There’s a lot of cleanup ahead. An adoption agency to bring down and a lot of babies to find, but right now, we need to locate Frankie and hope he’s the man with the tattoo.”
F
RANK
M
ANGINO
ANSWERED
the summons, his nerves close to breaking. He’d been on edge for a full year, but the past week had been hell. He stepped into his uncle’s office, and his stomach clenched when he noticed the man to his uncle’s right side. Great, just great.
“Uncle Sal. Mr. Wentworth.”
His boss didn’t smile in greeting. “I had an interesting call from a friend at the police department, Frank. There’s an inquiry about a suspect with a rather unique tattoo on his wrist.”
Frank’s hand involuntarily covered the colorful devil inked there.
“Let me see it,” his uncle snapped. “Now.”
Frank walked forward and pushed up his sleeve. The red and green devil identified him with a gang he’d joined when he’d been a stupid kid.
“I told you to have it removed,” his uncle said.
“It reminds me,” Frank said, “of family.”
“And why the pink ribbon?”
Frank looked at his uncle in disbelief. “For Francesca. Or don’t you remember her?”
“Your sister’s cancer and her inability to have children was a tragedy, but a mark like that identifies you. Especially after the stunt you pulled on Emily Wentworth. Blowing up her vehicle. I recognized the signature the second I saw it on the news.”
Frank shifted his eyes away from his uncle. “She wouldn’t give up. She was starting to remember the night of the accident.”
“Another failure on your part. You were supposed to kill them all. That was our agreement with Mr. Wentworth. Now the cops are looking for that tattoo because you were fool enough to go to that doctor for a birth certificate. You let down the family. I can’t allow it to go unpunished.”