Fatal Justice (27 page)

“Who knows? Maybe she had someone on retainer in case it ever got this far. At any rate, I’d like to speak to her again. What do you say we hit GW on the way home? I want to check on Devon, too.”

“It’s not exactly on the way.”

“No grumbling, rookie.”

“I’m just saying…”

Patting his cheek, she said, “I can always drop you off at home if it’s getting too late for you.”

“And miss all this excitement? No way. Besides, you promised me a reward for getting you that background check. I intend to collect.”

Closing and locking the hotel room door, she shot him a look full of innocence. “I was planning to make you an ice cream sundae. My nieces and nephews love my sundaes. Is that what you had in mind?”

“Not exactly,” he muttered. “Although you can feel free to include hot fudge and whipped cream in my reward.”

Somehow he always managed to get the last word.

Headlights filled the rearview mirror with a bright glare.

Sam winced at the light and slowed down. “What the hell?” she said to the car behind them. “Get off my ass.”

Instead of backing off, though, the other car tagged her back fender.

“What the fuck?”
she cried.

Nick spun around for a better look and nearly lost the top of his head to the bullet that shattered the back window and lodged in the windshield.

She pushed his head down and hit the gas.

Nick pushed back. “Goddamn it, Sam! Let go of me!”

“Keep your head down and hold on!” She released him, called for back up and slammed on the brakes, spinning the car around to face the shooter. She drew her weapon, turned on her emergency lights and opened the car door.

“Where are you going?”
Nick cried, grabbing her coat. “Get back in the car!”

She tugged herself free and got out.

The driver of the other car revved the engine and came at them, smashing into her car and narrowly missing Sam, who dove for cover in her car. Slamming the car into reverse, tires smoked as the attacking car backed up and bounced off a parked car before it took off in the other direction.

Sam jammed her car into reverse, and turned around to give chase. “Damn it, I couldn’t see who it was with the glare of the headlights.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nick muttered, clinging to the handle above the window as Sam took a corner on two wheels.

“Get down!” she cried.

“What about you?”

“I’m driving.”

Another shot blew the driver’s side-view mirror off her car.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

“Who the hell would be shooting at you?” Nick asked, his heart pounding, adrenaline and fear coursing through him. Thanks to the shattered windows, the temperature inside the car plummeted as the speedometer climbed to eighty-five. Lights flashing, they flew through deserted streets, dodging parked cars and the occasional pedestrian.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” Sam screamed at one of them. “Could be anyone. I’ve made lots of ‘friends’ during my twelve years on the force.” Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror. “Where the hell is my back up?” Reaching for her radio, she made a second more urgent call for help.

Zipping through red lights on Fourteenth Street, Nick braced for side impact. Watching her, he saw concentration, determination and a complete lack of fear, which made him feel like a total wimp since he was scared shitless. “You’re one ballsy chick, Holland.”

“Just doing my job, Senator. Oh fuck!” She grabbed his coat. “Get down, Nick!”

The shooter in the other car had turned around to aim the gun at them. They dropped down in their seats, and Sam eased off the accelerator—slightly. The shot took out their left front tire, sending them into a spin that Sam tried valiantly to control. She let out a scream when the car suddenly launched into a series of bone-jarring flips, coming to rest upside down.

Since the front end didn’t hit anything, the airbags didn’t deploy, and at some point during the spin, Nick took hard hits to his forehead and shoulder. Shaking off the stars that danced in his eyes, he hung upside down, held in place by a seatbelt. Once he could see straight again, he looked over at Sam. Blood dripped from an open wound on her forehead, and she was out cold.

“Sam!” He managed to release his seatbelt and fell to the ceiling of the car. Catching a whiff of gas, his heart kicked into overdrive. “Sam! We’ve got to get out of here!”

The glow of a flashlight appeared outside the scrunched passenger window. Nick saw a badge on the chest of the officer who leaned into the car. “Are you folks all right in there?”

“I am, but Lieutenant Holland is hurt, and I smell gas.”

“I do, too. Try to stay calm. The fire department’s extrication unit is on its way.”

Based on the amount of blood coming from the cut on her head, Nick decided that releasing her from the seatbelt was more important than keeping her still. He worked his way under her so he could catch her when she fell. Even though his shoulder throbbed and he trembled from shock as well as the frigid temperature, he broke into a sweat from the effort it took to free her from the belt.

Her dead weight landing on him forced his side into the shift handle. Nick cried out in pain and wondered if he had broken a rib.

Through the smashed window on the passenger side, the officer peered into the one-foot space.

“Can we get her out?” Nick asked.

“It’s not big enough.”

“Not for me,” he said, gagging on the gas fumes that filled the air. “But she might fit.” Grimacing at the pain coming from his shoulder and ribs, he shifted her closer to the window while using the sleeve of his new overcoat to wipe the blood off her ghostly pale face. “Babe,” he whispered, kissing her cold lips. “Wake up.”

“Is she breathing?”

Nick put his face down close to hers and went weak with relief when he felt a whisper of air hit his cheek. “Yeah.” In the distance, he could hear sirens. “I want to get her out of here.”

“The opening is too small. Hang tight, Senator. Rescue is almost here.”

His own head throbbing, he rested it on Sam’s chest, comforted by her faint but audible heartbeat. “What’s your name?”

“Montgomery. Officer Montgomery.”

“Did they get the guys that shot at us?”

“I haven’t heard yet, but I can check.”

“Yeah.” Nick’s chest ached from the effort it took to breathe. “Do that.” His eyes burned closed, but he fought the blackness, knowing if he had a concussion he should stay awake. “Samantha. Wake up, honey. Please wake up.” He wiped more blood from her forehead. “Montgomery, do you have something I could use on her wound?”

The patrolman handed him a clean handkerchief.

“Thanks.” He pressed the cloth to Sam’s forehead while talking softly to her. The gas smell seemed to be getting stronger, and Nick was convinced the car was going to explode any second. “You should back up. Get away from the car. Just in case.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Montgomery said.

“Lieutenant!”

“Who’s that?” Nick asked.

“Detective Gonzales. Are you all right, Senator?”

“I am, but Sam’s not.”

“Fire’s here,” Gonzo said. “They’ll get you out.”

“Someone shot at us,” Nick said. “That’s how this happened.”

“We got’em. They crashed on the bridge.”

“Good,” he said, relieved. “That’s good. Why were they shooting at us?”

“We think it might’ve been a gang initiation thing. Extra credit for shooting the famous lady cop. Triple extra credit for getting the senator, too. They’re still sorting it out.”

“Fabulous,” Nick muttered.

The fire department sprayed flame retardant foam on the car. Nick closed his eyes and mouth and covered Sam’s face with the handkerchief. In deference to the frigid cold, the EMTs passed a blanket in to Nick. He spread it out over Sam and snuggled up to her to share his body heat.

“Babe,” he said, dropping kisses on her face. “Wake up. I need you.” Sparks from the Jaws of Life rained down on them. Nick drew the blanket up to protect her face.

Twenty minutes later, the firefighters peeled back the side of the car. Hands landed on Nick’s shoulders.

“Take her first,” he said.

“We need to get you out so we can reach her, Senator.”

Nick kissed her cold lips. “The paramedics are going to take me now, but I’ll wait for you outside.”

He had never felt more helpless than he did leaving her unconscious in the car. Once he was on a gurney, paramedics swarmed around him, assessing his injuries. He couldn’t see what was happening with Sam. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to sit up. His head swam, his side felt like it had been stabbed with a knife, and his shoulder seemed disconnected from the rest of him.

“Whoa, Senator.” One of the paramedics held him down. “You have to stay still.”

“I need to see her!”

“We’re taking good care of her. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. Sure
. “Gonzo!”

“Right here, Senator.”

“What’s going on with Sam?”

“The paramedics are working on her.”

“Did they get her out?”

“Not yet. Looks like they’re stabilizing her before they move her.”

“God,” Nick whispered. “Don’t let her die. Please don’t let her die. If she does, I will, too.”

Gonzo placed a hand on Nick’s uninjured shoulder. “Hang in there, man. She’s tough. She’s going to be fine.”

Nick wanted to believe him, but the hitch he heard in Gonzo’s voice told him he wasn’t the only one who was frightened for her.

They were transported in separate ambulances. Halfway to the hospital, Nick’s lung collapsed. He’d never, in all his life, experienced pain quite like that. As he gasped for air, the paramedics moved quickly to insert a chest tube to re-inflate his lung. The minute he could breathe again, he asked what was happening with Sam.

“She’s stable, Senator.”

“Is she awake?”

“Not yet.”

Nick realized his mouth had dried up, and his head buzzed. “What’d you give me?” His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth.

“Something for the pain.”

“Don’t give me any more. I need to stay alert.”

“It’s gonna be bad.”

“No meds.” Nick tried to move his left arm and gritted his teeth against the agony. “Will you call and check on her? Please?”

The older of the two paramedics nodded to his partner who reached for his radio.

“Nothing new,” the younger paramedic reported a few minutes later.

They pulled up to GW Trauma where a swarm of reporters had gathered outside the E.R. Nick heard the paramedics radioing to the police, asking for help with the crowd. Even from inside the ambulance Nick could hear Gonzo screaming at the reporters to get the hell out of the way. For the first time in more than an hour, Nick smiled.

“We’re going to put this over your face to preserve your privacy,” one of the paramedics said, draping a clean white towel over Nick’s head.

“Make sure they do the same for Sam,” he said. “She’d hate to be photographed when she’s out cold.”

“Of course, Senator.”

“You could probably call me Nick at this point.” He hated the way everyone fawned over him these days. It was the one thing about his new life that didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t like he’d run for office and won. No, his friend had been murdered, and he was just filling in for him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he won in November. Until then, it just seemed weird to be afforded respect he’d done nothing to earn.

The next couple of hours passed in a blur of pain, doctors, nurses, X-ray technicians and needles.

“How’re you feeling, Senator?” the doctor in charge asked.

“Like I got hit by a bus.” Nick wished he hadn’t been so obstinate about the pain meds. He hurt everywhere, and his chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it. Every breath required supreme effort.

“The X-rays show a broken clavicle and a fractured rib, both on the left side in case you didn’t already know that.”

“How’s Sam?”

“We’re talking about you.”

“I don’t care about me. Tell me what’s going on with her.”

“The plastic surgeon put forty stitches in her hairline. Remarkably, she doesn’t seem to have any other injuries besides a severe concussion.”

“Is she awake?”

“No.”

“Is that normal? Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”

“Head injuries are tough. It can take an hour or a day, but she should be fine.”

Should be
wasn’t good enough for him. “I need to see her.”

“I’ll arrange that after orthopedics deals with your shoulder and wraps your ribs. I don’t want you to move around too much until then. The fractured rib is what caused your lung to collapse.”

Nick winced at the reminder of that painful ordeal. “You’re sure she’s okay?”

“Right now she’s stable. That’s all I can tell you.”

Nick studied the doctor’s face, trying to see what he wasn’t saying. “I need to call her dad.”

“I believe Detective Gonzales took care of that. There’s quite a crowd forming in the waiting room.”

“I’m sure the entire MPD is here.”

“Some of them are asking for you, too. People are here from your office, and we received a frantic phone call from your father. He said to tell you he’s on his way.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nick was surprised and touched by his father’s concern. “Is Captain Malone out there?”

“I can check, but you have to rest and take it easy.”

“I need to see him. It’s important.”

“I’ll send him in.”

Malone came into the room a few minutes later. “How’re you doing, Senator?”

“If one more person calls me that tonight, I’m going to lose it. My name is Nick.”

Malone’s solemn expression shifted into a small smile. “Are you okay,
Nick?
”

“I will be. Sam, on the other hand, I’m worried about.”

“She’s in good hands,” Malone said, but Nick could see the concern etched into the older man’s face.

“When she wakes up, she’ll be freaking out about the Sinclair case. We were on our way here when this happened.” He filled Malone in on Sam’s theory about Diandra possibly paying someone off to take out Julian and mentioned the wire transfer Detective McBride uncovered.

“How does the son’s shooting fit into that?”

“She wasn’t sure yet. She was waiting for ballistics to see if the same gun was used in both shootings. She felt like she was getting close to some answers. We also figured out that Julian had lunch with Senator Ackerman, chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, earlier in the day he was killed. Sam was going to talk to him in the morning.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll put Gonzales on that. He’s been a mess since he saw you two in the wreck. This’ll give him something to do with his considerable energy.”

“There was an officer there. Montgomery. He was a big help to us. If there’s anything you can do for him…”

“I’ll make sure he’s recognized.”

“Good,” Nick said, his energy flagging. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them, Malone was gone and Skip Holland had taken his place. “Hey,” Nick said. His voice sounded gravelly, so he cleared his throat.