4
Time moved in a blur for Izzy. She knew the ambulance was there, felt hands on her shoulders moving her away from Kevin, heard the paramedics talking, saw them working on him, smelled the residue from the gunfire—and the blood. She didn’t think she’d ever get the scent of the blood out of her mind.
Oh, Kevin.
She sat back and leaned against the wooden pallets that had sheltered Kevin only moments ago. A rough edge dug into her back, but she didn’t care.
“He’s still alive, let’s go.”
The words penetrated her stupor. Wait. What? He was alive? She shuddered and tried to focus. The paramedics loaded Kevin into the ambulance and squealed away.
Izzy ran a hand through her hair. She had to get to the hospital, to be with him. To . . . what?
Wait. And pray.
But first, the guy who’d fallen from the balcony. Paramedics were working on him. She slipped in for a closer look. Who was he? They’d cut his shirt from hem to collar. Tattoos covered his abdomen. The five-pointed star with the number 5 in the middle. A Bloods gang member.
A hard hand on her upper arm pulled her around to meet a pair of glittering hazel eyes that belonged to Ryan Marshall. “What was he doing here,” he said, “facing these guys alone? Two months, Izzy.” He held up two fingers as though she needed the visual. “He’s only been out of the academy two months! You were supposed to have his back.”
Izzy jerked her arm from his grasp. “Are you kidding me? I had his back, I was all over watching out for him, but it’s hard to do that when the other person doesn’t cooperate.” She couldn’t do this. Not now. Her brain and emotions were on overload. “I called for backup and followed him in.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “This isn’t on me.” She turned her back on him and let her eyes dart from one face to the next, but didn’t see the one she was looking for.
Where had he gone?
“I have questions that you’re going to answer,” Ryan said.
The demand scraped her nerves and she had to bite her tongue on the words that wanted to bypass her filter. Ryan was angry, upset, scared to death his little brother was going to die. Well, so was she.
She drew in a deep breath and turned back to face him. “And I’ll answer your questions. Soon.” She had a full night ahead of her. Paperwork, her statement . . . praying for Kevin to live. And her own questions that needed answers. Fast. Like where had Blackjack been? The fact that he’d never shown up made her wonder.
And what had he been doing here? The scene ran through her mind once again. She’d entered the warehouse, seen Kevin on the floor. Raced to his side. Heard more gunshots. Saw the body fall from the balcony, heard it hit the floor. And looked up to see . . .
. . . Derek?
Maybe. She’d only caught a glimpse of his profile, but it had sure looked like him.
Izzy rubbed her forehead, the tension headache growing by the second. It couldn’t have been Derek, could it? Her twin brother was also a detective in the department where she worked as well as a member of vice. And if it had been him on the balcony, then he’d saved her life by shooting the man who’d been about to shoot her.
And then he’d run. Why?
“What was he doing here?”
She jerked as Ryan’s voice echoed her own mental question, and for a moment she thought he was talking about—
“Why’d you let him go in alone?” Ryan continued.
He was talking about Kevin, not Derek. “We were on a stakeout, Ryan. And I didn’t let Kevin go in alone. I didn’t let him do anything. He’s a big boy.” A big boy who’d made a very stupid, possibly lethal, decision.
All because he had something to prove. She didn’t buy that he just wanted to prove something to himself. The youngest sibling of four, with one brother killed on the battlefield of Afghanistan, Kevin had always been the daredevil. He’d craved accolades and attention. In his eyes, this was his chance to be a hero. He’d gotten the information and he’d wanted to make the bust. And it had gotten him shot. Period.
She kept walking toward her car, parked where she’d left it.
With a perfect view of the warehouse.
Where her partner had just been shot.
Grief welled. She shut it down. Not yet. Not now.
A hard hand on her arm jerked her around again. And once again, she pulled out of his grasp. “You have to stop doing that or you’re going to find yourself on the ground.” She ignored the flash of memory that kind of touch incited. Memories Ryan didn’t know about. Memories she refused to allow a hold on her. Not anymore.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Sorry. I don’t mean to be rough, but I . . .”
“What?”
He spread his hands. “That can’t be the way it happened.”
She froze for half a second, tempted to lash out. She drew in a steadying breath. “Well, since you were here, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened then?”
He winced at the sarcasm, then shook his head. “Obviously you left him alone or you would have been shot too. Or you would have shot the guys that shot him. Or . . . or something.”
“Or something?” If she kept repeating him, they’d never get anywhere. She opened her mouth to blast him, then snapped her lips shut. With effort, she reminded herself once again that he was mad, upset, looking for someone to blame and not thinking clearly. But still the words came. “So what you’re saying is that if one partner gets shot and the other one doesn’t, then she’s not doing her job? Think about that for just half a minute, Ryan.”
He flinched. “No. Of course not.”
“That’s what you just said. You need to stop and take a deep breath and get your thoughts together before you say anything else.” She glared at him and opened her car door. “I’ll see you at the hospital.” She climbed in and slammed the door in his face.
Once she was on the road toward the hospital, guilt hit her. Was he right? Was there something else she should have done? Could have done? Had she waited too long to call for backup? Should she have followed Kevin into the building? If she’d been in there, is it possible she might have seen the gun, maybe shot first?
No. If she’d gone in, she’d have been shot too, by the suspect she’d missed seeing. The guy on the balcony who had intended to shoot her as well.
Only Derek had shot him first. If it had been him, her twin brother had some explaining to do. She pulled over to the side of the road, hating the delay, but not wanting to mess with her phone while she was this upset and driving. She dialed his number and it went straight to voice mail.
Izzy growled and sent him a text.
Call me.
She hesitated, then called Derek’s partner, Jasmine Clark. When the woman’s voice mail came on, Izzy sighed, but left a message for her to call. She then clipped the phone to her belt and pulled back into traffic while Ryan’s accusations looped through her brain.
Ryan Marshall. He’d been a thorn in her side since she’d met him at the tender age of nine and he’d talked her into climbing a tree. She’d fallen out and busted her chin wide open. He’d been remorseful and begged her forgiveness. And while she’d given it, she’d hated heights ever since.
She grimaced. She shouldn’t have slammed the door on him. She’d apologize. As long as he didn’t say something to set her off again. No. His brother was clinging to life. Ryan deserved grace. No matter what he said, she’d hold her tongue.
Her phone rang and she pulled it from her back pocket. Only it wasn’t hers, it was Kevin’s. His blood still covered the screen.
With a new lump in her throat, she shoved his phone back into her pocket and grabbed hers from the clip. Izzy spared a quick glance at the screen. She didn’t feel like talking, but had to check since she’d sent Derek the order to call her. Only it wasn’t him. She pressed the button to connect the call. “Hello?”
“Are you all right?”
The intensity of the question struck her like a punch to the solar plexus. “Yes, ma’am.” She slowed and pulled over once more. The chief of police checking up on her. As she would every officer involved in the incident.
“And Officer Marshall?”
“He’s en route to the hospital and so am I.”
“So he’s still alive.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I have a press conference scheduled in thirty minutes on the steps of the hospital. Then I want to see you.”
“Of course. I’ll be in the surgery waiting room.”
“I’ll find you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Isabelle?”
“Yes?”
The line went silent for a brief moment. Then the woman cleared her throat. “I’m not the chief of police right now. I’m your mother and I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you, sweetheart.”
Izzy’s throat tightened at the husky words. “I love you too, Mom. See you soon.”
Ryan waited at the entrance for Izzy to park her car and come through the automatic door. Somehow he’d beaten her here. Officers involved in the incident were already in the waiting room. They could give their statements from there just as well as any other place. Ryan had already gotten an update on Kevin and there was nothing more he could do except wait.
Wait and talk. Find out what happened from the officer who’d let his brother get shot.
When Izzy saw him, she frowned, then took a deep breath but didn’t try to avoid him. No, she wouldn’t. Izzy always faced everything head on. One of the many qualities he admired about her.
“How is he?” she asked.
“They’re taking him to surgery now. My parents are on the way and I’m headed in there too. I’m probably going to be giving blood. We’re the same type. Walk with me?”
“Sure.” She fell into step beside him and they made their way to the elevator. They were the only ones on the ride to the second floor.
“Did they catch them?” she asked. “The guys who ran from the warehouse? There were four of them. No, five.” The guy on the balcony.
“They got one. If there were five, then three managed to slip away. One’s dead, one’s in custody.”
“Is the one in custody talking?”
“He hasn’t said a word, according to Charice. He just sits and stares at the wall. Like he’s deaf. She said it’s creepy.”
Charice Mann. His partner of four years. She’d continue to keep him updated on the interrogation.
“Is he? Deaf?” she asked.
“No one knows. I don’t think so, though. Charice said he’s got gang markings for the Crips. If we let him sit long enough, maybe he’ll start talking.”
Izzy rubbed red-rimmed eyes. “What is with the sudden resurgence of gang violence? It seems to be so much worse in the last few weeks. Even random attacks on people in the street have risen.”
“I know. Seems like every time we turn around there’s a new dead gang member—mostly kids. Dead kids.” It broke his heart.
“It needs to stop.”
“The gang unit is working on it.”
She paused. “Wait a minute. You said he has the markings of the Crips.”
“Right.”
“But the dead guy had the markings of the Bloods.”
“So what were they doing together in the warehouse?”
They stepped off the elevator. “Izzy? Ryan?”
Ruthie’s voice stopped them. Izzy turned and gave a little grunt when Ruthie enveloped her in a massive hug.
“I’ve only got about three more minutes,” Ruthie said. “I was hoping to see you step off that elevator. Are you okay?” She stepped back to look her over. “I see blood. Is it yours?”
She started to examine her when Izzy caught her hands.
“It’s not mine. It’s Kevin’s.” Her voice broke on his name and Ryan felt his own throat tighten.
Ruthie’s eyes reddened, but no tears fell. “I heard. He’s being rushed into surgery right now. I’m going to assist. I’m headed there now, so you can rest assured there will be someone in the room who’s praying.” She turned her attention to him and Ryan soon found himself wrapped in a hug as well. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I really am.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Ruthie. Just save him, okay?”
“They’re waiting on you, Dr. St. John.” One of the nurses stood to the side, glancing at her watch.
Ruthie stepped back. “I’ve got to go. But I’ll have someone keep you updated as often as I can, I promise.”
“Okay.”
She gave Izzy one last hug and hurried down the hall. Izzy looked down at her arms and hands. Ryan’s gaze followed hers to Kevin’s dried blood. “I need to clean up. I can’t see your mother like this.”
“There’s a bathroom over there.” He pointed down the hall and to the left.
Izzy nodded and disappeared inside. When she stepped back out, he pushed himself off the wall. She looked presentable. She still had some blood on her shirt and on her jeans at the knees where she’d knelt next to Kevin on the warehouse floor. But the worst of it was gone.
Ryan swiped a hand over his eyes. “Before we hit the waiting room, will you please tell me what happened with Kevin?” he asked.
“Thought you’d already come to your own conclusions.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I was panicked.”
“I know.” She reached into the bag she carried on her shoulder and pulled out a small handheld camcorder. “You can watch it.”
His heart thudded. “You recorded it?”
“Partly. I drove my personal car to the stakeout. The last thing I needed was for these guys to catch me in a cruiser. I set up the camera as a precaution. Anyway, it doesn’t show what happened inside, just outside. And I debated even showing it to you, but if it was my brother . . .” She hesitated when he tried to take it from her. “You’re not going to be happy with Kevin.”
“That’s nothing new.” He sighed. Then scowled. “I can handle it.”
She placed a hand over the camcorder. “No, I mean, you’re going to be livid . . . and very disappointed.”
He met her frown for frown. Livid? That was a pretty strong word. And disappointed? What had Kevin done?
He hesitated. He wanted to watch the video, but he wanted an update on Kevin more. “Hold on to this. It can wait.” He just needed to hear his brother was still alive. Please, God.
A mere two minutes after he and Izzy stepped into the waiting room, the door swung open again and Ryan turned to see his parents enter. His father’s eyes met his and the absolute devastation there nearly took him to his knees. He went over and hugged the man. “He’s still alive, Dad.”
“Barely, from what I was told.”
Yes. “But still alive.” As long as he was alive, there was hope. He turned to his mother, who stood stoic, her blank stare riveted on a painting hanging on the wall across the room. Prematurely gray, her short hair curled around her temples and at the base of her neck. He took her arm and led her to a chair. “Mom? Mom. Look at me.”
She blinked. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her still-smooth cheeks like silent rivers of pain. “I can’t lose him, Ryan. Not him too. My heart simply can’t . . . not with Chris . . . I can’t . . .”
Grief burned yet another hole in his heart. “I know, Mom.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, then grasped her hand. Two SLED detectives approached Izzy. Yeah, the state agency, South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, would be involved in this. He knew the chief, Tabitha St. John, worked closely with them. She would have been all over that. “Could we get your statement? Officers are canvassing the area and doing an all-out manhunt for the suspects, but we need your input now.”
And they’d want to check her weapon. If she’d fired it, she’d have to go through all the paperwork. If she hadn’t, they’d simply hand it back to her.
“Of course.”
“While you’re doing that,” Ryan said, “I’m going to go give blood.”
His mother patted his hand. “Yes. Go.”
“Text me if there’s any change at all. Promise.”
“I promise, son,” his father said.
Izzy stepped aside with the two SLED detectives and Ryan made his way to the area he’d been to several times before. Always for an officer-involved shooting. Never had he imagined it would be for his brother. Thirty minutes later, with no texts regarding Kevin, he tossed back the orange juice they handed him and took the crackers without protest. He might need them.
Ryan made his way back to the waiting room and found his mother leaning against his father, eyes closed, face ashen, tears still wet on her cheeks. He simply sat next to her, trying to ignore the thick-as-tar tension surrounding him.
Time passed with no word on his brother and Ryan’s nerves stretched with each minute that ticked by.
Izzy finally finished with the detectives and returned to her seat opposite him and his mother. She leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Marshall.”
His mom opened her eyes. “Tell me what happened.” She sniffed and swiped a tissue over the tears that seemed to have no end.
Ryan almost interrupted and told her not to worry about the details for now, but of course she’d want to know. She might be reeling with the news of Kevin’s shooting, but she’d want answers.
“Uh, well, I can’t right now,” Izzy said. “I promise that as soon as I have the green light, I’ll fill you in.”
His mother frowned at the evasive answer, and Ryan didn’t like it either but kept his mouth shut. She was shooting looks at him to back her up. She didn’t want to tell his mother what had happened. And until he knew himself, he’d support her.
A woman stepped into the room. “Is the Marshall family here?”
Ryan shot to his feet. His father stood as well. “We are.”
“Could you follow me, please? The doctor would like to meet with you in private.”
“No,” his mother whispered. “No. I’m not going.” Sobs tumbled from her lips. The others in the waiting room stared and Ryan couldn’t stand the pity he saw etched there. He pulled her to her feet. “Come on, Mom. I’ll help you.” His eyes locked on Izzy’s pleading ones. He nodded and she rose to follow.
His mother let him lead her, him holding one arm, his father on the other side.
Once in the private room, Ryan lowered his mother into the nearest chair while he kept a tight grip on his grief. Izzy stood just inside the door, her hands clenched, jaw tight. Tears stood in her eyes, but he could see her fierce determination to keep them from falling.
He didn’t want to be here. He knew what was coming, but for just a moment he could pretend it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real if nobody said it.
His father stood by the fake window with curtains that framed a painted outdoor scene. Ryan wondered if that was supposed to be comforting somehow. Then wondered why he wondered that.
His dad started to pace from one end of the twelve-by-twelve room to the other. Ryan focused on the cross on the wall. Don’t take Kevin, please, God, not Kevin too.
The door opened and then Ruthie stepped into the room. Ryan’s heart dropped. He knew that look on her face. Had seen it on his father’s when he’d told him his Marine brother, Chris, had been killed in Afghanistan by an IED.
Ryan placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder and felt it shake. Sobs ripped from her.
“I asked them to let me tell you.” Her voice hitched. “I’m sorry,” Ruthie said. Tears stood in her eyes, then tumbled over her lashes. She wiped them away. “We did all we could, but his injuries were just too extensive—”