OBSESSION (The Bening Files (Novella) Book 4) (17 page)

“How’s Rupert?”

“No news is good news.” Circles lined Jordan’s eyes.

She touched his shoulder, gave a squeeze. “He’s going to be fine, Jordan.” He had to be.

His eyes wandered toward Davis.

Amanda knew the feeling a sudden, previously undisclosed sibling could cause, but this wasn’t Jordan’s first time around that particular block. He and Rupert hadn’t known about each other until adulthood. The two were still navigating the familial waters. And adding Davis to that mix? “Did you have any idea?”

He shook his head. Davis stood. Then headed in their direction. Her jeans were covered in dirt and grime, same as Amanda’s.

“I’m gonna go home and change,” she said once she reached them. “See if I can’t find something to give us a little traction here.”

Jordan didn’t utter a word before walking toward his wife. In the corner, Amanda’s mother watched them as if she knew far more than her brain would allow her to say. She rubbed bound hands across her face.

“You didn’t have to cuff her, Davis.”

“She was going to get hurt. Or hurt
somebody
.”

Anger prickled through her body. “She would never hurt anybody. Not on purpose.” And she’d spend the rest of her life proving it if she had to.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Mm-hmm.” Amanda pressed her lips together.

Davis’ jaw worked. “Let me make this simple for you, Nettles. Your parents have helped a lot of people. Sometimes, when you do that, you make enemies. People who don’t want to see you doing whatever it is that you’re doing, because it doesn’t jibe with what they want to accomplish. So, you find other ways to do what you need to do.” Her green eyes were alive with passion. “I’m the last person who’d want anything bad to happen to your mom. Without her, I wouldn’t be alive.”

What did that mean? “Is that supposed to make your suspicious activities okay?”

She took a deep breath. “My birth mother didn’t want children. Didn’t even really like men, oddly enough. But she was too scared to go through with the abortion, so she put it off until it was almost too late. I might have been born naturally, in a hospital, if Sandra hadn’t convinced my mother the process was easy and painless.”

Like she’d done this morning with Paige.

“Saline abortion is anything but painless. And if done wrong, the mother can end up dying as well.”

A sick feeling rolled through Amanda.

“Your mom tried everything to talk her out of it. Even followed her to Dr. Borian’s clinic. Forced her way into the room. If she hadn’t, I would have died in the clinic, because all the saline did was push me out faster and cause areas of my skin to burn.”

The image made Amanda’s heart beat a little faster.

“It also scarred small portions of my lungs, which makes me feel like I’m choking at times. It causes a bit of anxiety. At times it’s overwhelming and makes me—”

“Throw up.”

Davis’ sharp intake of air and quick departure of the Fifth Precinct two days ago popped into Amanda’s mind. “Is that why you left the precinct so suddenly? Did you think she’d spell out the scenario in one Alzheimer’s fog?”

The other woman swallowed. “The things your mom says… The drug works, Amanda. Your mom is proof. You put her in that care center six months ago—”

Everything stopped. “
What
do you mean, it works?”

“Charleen?” A female voice split through the high-pitched squeal in Amanda’s head.

A woman with blonde hair rushed up to them. A yellow cardigan and a baby bump was visible beneath her rain jacket.

Davis turned toward the exit. “Juliana?”

Dexter’s sister? She had the same blue-violet eyes. A flash of the girl in the clinic bounced around in her head. The way she’d disappeared without a trace.

“Did you tell her?” She said to Davis, whose gaze skittered away from Amanda.

Something heavy dropped into her stomach. “Somebody better start talking.
Now
.”

“I was going to meet Rupert for a lunch meeting. I found your mom behind Gamegon. I know she didn’t do it. She’s been a Knight Rescue Mission donor for years. Used to help me out when she could still—”

The sound of gunshots echoed through the building. Juliana jumped. Amanda froze. The fine hairs on her body stood at attention. Davis’ gaze bounced to hers. In the corner, Jordan stood, his wife doing likewise.

A scream split the air. Another round went off.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THIS WAS GOING to end badly.

Charleen released a burst of air. She’d bared herself more than ever before. Hadn’t gotten the horrified stare she’d anticipated and was thankful she hadn’t seen pity in the depths of Amanda’s eyes.

It was the hardest bit of truth she’d ever delivered. The only time she’d ever spoken of that particular part of her life. Never doing it again would suit her fine.

Focus. Get in. Get out.

After three and a half years, she was ready to do that. To close this file and move on. And once Amanda discovered the truth, it would be the only option available to Charleen.

She took the stairs to the maternity ward two at a time in darkness. They had maybe five minutes. She’d known that before the lights inside the hospital went out and the backup generator kicked on. While the ICU and OR’s still had power, she’d have to maneuver like a mouse in a maze.

She hit the landing, eased the door open and slipped inside. She waited for someone to notice her. Stop her. Shoot her. Because that’s what she’d heard on the second floor as she waited for Rupert’s surgery to end.

While she prayed for the survival of a brother that she didn’t know—hadn’t wanted to, because being behind the scenes often meant going it alone. That, she understood.

When Jordan and Amanda had run toward the commotion—always at the ready, even as the lights clipped off—she’d fought the swirling sensation in her gut. Found herself headed here.

Charleen worked to get her heart rate under control. The Glock .45 in her right hand wouldn’t stay steady. Her entire body vibrated with nerves.

But she’d checked the clip before leaving the house this morning. Had made sure she had a spare. It was routine, whether she expected trouble or not.

She liked being behind the scenes, where she could process information. Add pieces to the puzzle without having to make the hard call. Not out on the front line.

Not like Amanda. The city needed more of her, even if her methods were risky. Not always on par with protocol. Charleen would make sure the official report said the truth about everything else, too.

That was why she was here. The truth. She couldn’t forget that. Internal Affairs paid her salary. And they’d given her one job. Flush out the corrupt.

She’d been successful once already.

Should have been pulled and reassigned last year, but IA had come through the precinct. Run her background and ruffled her feathers like everyone else.

Told her to sit tight. Call when she’d gotten the next guy. Right. She might be the eyes and ears of IA, but she couldn’t stand still while a good family went down.

A swirl of sickness clenched her stomach. Irritation slid down her spine.

She’d been so busy trying to figure out who might have it in for Eileen, she hadn’t concentrated on the more obvious reality. What would her guilt imply? What would it destroy?

Amanda was the most evident factor, with Paige ending up a war casualty, but the facts didn’t add up. The AD trial, however…

That had to be the connection. Both women were part of it and had become pregnant during it. Both had sought abortion counseling from Dr. Seth Borian.

The confirmation was in the file she’d swiped from the clinic this morning when Amanda had created the perfect diversion. Couldn’t have been more successful if they’d planned it. Only the senior detective wasn’t big on trust these days.

She understood it. Respected it even.

If she was wrong about Eileen, about the trial being a success…

Had Dr. Borian known they were a part of it? His only connection to Sandra surrounded Charleen’s birth and their mutual college education years before that. Long before Eileen had AD, she was their…teacher.

There was something she was missing.

Maybe if you weren’t such an idiot, you could have clued Amanda in.

Charleen shook her head. It never would have worked. She needed to focus. Get to Paige and protect her.

While the girl’s aunt protected all of Charlotte.

She skirted along the wall, right past the nurses’ station and to Paige’s door. She opened it and slipped inside.

Two sets of eyes turned her way, Paige from the bed. Her brown gaze was wide, her hands fisted around her blankets. A grim shadow surfaced on Dexter’s face. He moved from where he stood near the window.

“Charleen.” His voice held not one hint of surprise. He was probably the only person who didn’t call her Davis or Vi, not that he had any practice with the latter.

“No roses or sunshine, I get it.”

Because you handcuffed him to a banister.

That decision had been automatic. Much like this one, but nevertheless, right.

She headed toward Paige’s IV and unhooked it. Unraveled the monitors from around her stomach. Then pulled the blankets back from her legs. They had to move.

“What are you doing?” The teen made a grab for the tubing.

“Saving you.”

“
What?
Why?
” The high-pitch squeak of anxiety rolled off Paige’s words and hammered into Charleen’s heart.

Two hands clamped down on her shoulders and pulled her away from the girl. “Stop it.” At six-two Dexter towered well above her—easily a foot. His violet eyes cracked fire. The twisted knife of fear should have been lodged in her system, but wasn’t. “What are you doing?”

“Dexter, pick her up.”

“Not gonna work.” He pointed toward the door, his face firm. “You can’t barge in here and take charge.”

Maybe
ending badly
wasn’t the right phrase. Perhaps it would just end. “I see you’re still miffed about this morning.”

“This morning? As if you accidentally spilled hot coffee—”

She clamped a hand over his mouth. Cursed herself for the hasty action the minute the feel of his whiskered skin hit her palm. “We don’t have time for this. Either help me or get out of the way.”

He removed her fingers from his face, blocked her access to Paige. A hint of clean laundry soap wafted in her direction, as it had done every time he’d shifted in his chair last night.

No time to go down that road.

“Don’t touch her, Charleen.”

“I’m not here to hurt her.” With any luck she’d have time to get the girl out of the building and take Eileen with them. Get them to a safe place and head back to deal with the situation.

Hopefully from the sidelines, once she identified the threat.

The muscles in his jaw clenched. “Remains to be seen.”

He wasn’t going to listen. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make it different. She could see that in the stark violet of his eyes. The way he watched her as if he understood exactly what she was. What she’d do at any given moment.

Her heart started a frantic pound. Her stomach surged upward. She swallowed it back. Grabbed the collar of his dress shirt, pulled him downward and pressed her lips against his.

He froze. Shock blasted from the rigid planes of muscles beneath her fingers. She didn’t give it a chance to build to something more or fizzle to that awkward moment before she pulled back.

His eyes were locked on her, unreadable, but she had his complete attention. “Listen to me. There’s an active shooter in the hospital.” She tugged on his shirt, again. “We stay here, we become instant sitting ducks. So, I need your help. Pick her up. Let’s move.”

###

SANDRA HAD SAVED his life.

The thought would’ve taken precedence if Robinson’s chest didn’t feel like an entire elephant circus had squatted on top of it and sawed in spikes for permanence. A gasp of air shot white-hot pain through the space. He placed a hand on the wall outside the OR.

He dug out his cell. Dialed Amanda’s number. Got sent straight to voicemail. He tried for a shallow breath. Needed to get his family out of the hospital.

Sandra
had saved
his
life
.

It seemed like a drug-induced dream.

She’d used an old tactic: Dead body weight. It had thrown Seth off balance. Sent his bullets into other targets.

It gave Robinson a chance to roll out of sight. And she’d been rewarded with a hard knock to her skull before the other man had carted her off like a caveman might have dragged his new wife.

He’d already tallied two fatalities and three injuries in the hallway alone. And that didn’t count the man on Sandra’s OR table, if the staff who’d rushed into the area couldn’t save him. Or if Seth doubled back for Robinson.