Fragmented (20 page)

He had to accomplish his objective, no matter what sacrifices had to be made. He had buried his life in his work, hadn’t allowed emotions to interfere and he couldn’t afford it now.

A moment later, he clicked off his phone. “Cameron, Cameron,” he urged. “You need to get up and get dressed. There’s been an accident. I have to get down to the hospital. I can’t leave you here. You need to come with me.”

* * * *

His tone dictated no questions. She obliged him and within minutes, they were on their way. Cameron didn’t dare ask any questions. They drove in silence. The look on his face scared her.

She followed behind Darren as he slammed through the emergency room door of Beth
Israel. His creds in hand, he pressed through, following the line of police. Cameron hurried to catch up. He seemed to have forgotten she was with him.

He didn’t slow down until he saw Agent Dunn. She wasn’t certain what she was supposed to do. So she stood silently behind him.

“What happened?” Darren demanded.

“
Brophy….” Dunn swallowed hard. “The killer called Brophy. He attacked Dr. Halliday…then went after Brophy. He set Brophy up. Threatened his family and waited for him. He rammed Brophy in a stolen Hummer. Brophy is shaken up, but the doctors say he’ll be okay.”

“
Dr. Halliday?”

“
Afraid he didn’t make it.”

“
I need details,” Darren said. He turned to Cameron. “Stay here with the officers. Don’t move.”

Cameron stood frozen to the spot. The words echoed in her head…
hurtled through her comprehension slowly. Dr. Halliday. Matthew didn’t make it? Everything went foggy. Her legs weakened.

She felt a hand direct her into the quiet room
, away from prying eyes. It was empty. She didn’t care. The officer turned to leave. She reached out with her hand and stopped him.

“
Tell me what is happening, please. Darren didn’t know. The killer struck again?”

The officer nodded.
“Afraid so, ma’am. Attacked a doctor here at the hospital, and again Detective Brophy when he was pursuing the suspect. They said for you to wait here. I’m sure someone will be back soon enough. Don’t you worry none. Nothing will happen to you here.”

She wasn’t worried about her own safety. A darkness enveloped her. Matthew dead? No…it couldn’t be. This madman…the one who was after her
…killed Matthew. Suddenly, Darren’s words came back to haunt her when he was after her to tell Zach’s car location…

It’s not a game, Cameron
. How would you feel if it was someone you loved? How would you feel if it had been your brother?”

How could this be happening? Her sole concentration had been in protecting Zach. Now, because of her, Matthew was dead! If she hadn’t interfered, would they have the madman now?

Oh, my God! Matthew was dead because of her! Why? Why? Matthew was out of her life. Why would the madman go after Matthew? She was never going back to him…especially after finding Darren.

Her heart stopped. Darren! Would Darren be a target now? Was the madman killing everyone she had loved? What of her father…brother?

* * * *

Cameron didn’t know how long she sat staring into oblivion. Time had become irrelevant. She said nothing when Agent Dunn and Darren walked into the room. She stood.

Darren stepped toward her and sighed heavily. “Look, Cameron, Agent Dunn has suggested it’s best now to get you out of here. Out of Boston.”

“
I don’t understand. What is happening?” she asked in almost a whisper. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Darren, don’t make me.”

He pressed his lips together as if formulating the right words. Her heart sank. Suddenly, she didn’t want to hear the answer. From the look on his face, the professional had returned. A wall had resurfaced.

“Look, Miss Quinn, you don’t really have a choice, for your own safety.”

Cameron ignored Agent Dunn. Her focus stayed with Darren. Her eyes pleaded with him.

“It’s not safe, Cameron.”

She felt she couldn’t breathe. She reached out to him, her eyes tearing up.
“I can’t leave. I don’t even know what has happened. Is it true? Was it Matthew? Is Matthew dead?” Panic edged her voice. “My father? What of Zach?”

Darren took her hands in his against his chest.
“Your father and brother are safe, but Dr. Halliday was attacked. He died in surgery.”

Her legs crumbled beneath her. Darren led her to a chair. Through blurred eyes, she asked,
“Why? Why would he go after Matthew?”

“
As close as we can piece together, the killer tricked him into a trap.”

“
How?” Suddenly, Cameron pulled back. “Did Matthew think he was protecting me? Is that the reason? Why would he think that? Didn’t he know I was safe?”

Darren looked over her shoulder at Agent Dunn. Cameron didn’t relent.
“My God! What is going on? Were you using me to flush the killer out? Oh, my God! You were! Oh, my God!”

Cameron stood again and recoiled against the wall.
“This is all my fault.”

With her face in her hands, she slid down the wall until she sat on the floor. She heard footsteps retreat out of the room. Then strong arms went around her.

“Cameron, it’s not your fault. It’s not. We are dealing with a madman,” Darren said. “It was deemed the best approach to find this killer. You know how dangerous he is, Cam. For some reason, he’s fixated on you. That is what was used, not you.”

She looked up at him through tear-stained eyes.
“So you were a diversion. To keep me occupied while they searched for this madman…”

“
Don’t be obtuse, Cameron. Of course not. I asked to look after you. You should know how I feel.”

“
Do I?” She withdrew from him.

“
Don’t do this, Cameron. I’ll explain. If you knew me better, you would know I would never have…”

“
That’s just it, isn’t it, Darren?” she interrupted him. “I don’t know you better.”

The words hung in the air. He stared at her
in a long silence. Then he said, “I’m not sure what you’re looking for here, Cameron, and we can’t get into this now.”

She choked back her tears. She wasn’t going to beg. She broke her gaze and looked down at the floor, her heart breaking.

“For God’s sake, Cameron, don’t do this to me now. We’ll talk and straighten everything out between us. I promise.” He cupped her face in his hands so she didn’t have any other choice but to look into his eyes. “God, woman, if you don’t know how I feel, I’m not going to be able to convince you in a matter of minutes. It’s more important that you’re safe than if you’re mad at me.”

He stood and helped her up. She refused to look at him. Her emotions rumbled within her. She knew only one thing.
“Darren, don’t send me away.”

At first, she thought he was going to take her in his arms, but he stopped when a suited man walked into the room.

“We don't have time for this, Cameron. You have to get out of here. I need to know you’re safe.”

He reached for her again, but she took a step back. She was hurt. She needed him
—him, not the FBI’s protection. She didn’t utter a response.

“
Fine, have it your way. We’ll talk later.”

Cameron stood emotionless as Darren introduced her to Special Agent Drew Brennan.

“Miss Quinn, I’ll be transporting you to a different location. You’re now under the FBI’s protection. We will depart as soon as I get word from Agent Dunn. It should only be a few minutes.”

She didn’t care. What she cared about walked out of the room. Why did it seem as if a knife pierced her heart? It felt like the walls collapsed around her. She had to get out of this room…the hospital.

The agent seemed genuinely nice, dressed in his freshly laundered shirt, tie, and a new suit. Had they told him she was responsible for the murderer’s killing spree? She thought not. He would do as ordered, no matter who she was.

The agent was young, still believing heartily in all the patriotic propaganda—protect the city, country, world
—only it was her world that needed protecting. And it had just crashed.

Cameron sighed. She realized she didn’t have a choice. She wiped a stray tear that had escaped and walked out the door. The agent tried to guide her
at her elbow with his hand. She jerked it back. She didn’t need his help.

She walked out into the corridor of the emergency room. At the end of the hall, a group of people had gathered. One glance told Cameron who they were. She recognized Mrs. Halliday, Matthew’s mother. Moreover,
Mrs. Halliday recognized Cameron.

Agent Brennan detected the atmosphere. He took a firm grip of Cameron’s arm.

“Miss Quinn, we need to leave. Let’s go,” Agent Brennan said resolutely.

She nodded slightly, but in the next moment she was stopped.

Mrs. Halliday rushed forward and obstructed Cameron’s path. Waving her hand and pointing at Cameron, she cried, “It was her! She is the one. Arrest her. Arrest her. She’s the one responsible for my Matthew’s death.”

Mrs. Halliday screamed when a uniform
ed officer grabbed her before she had launched onto Cameron. Cameron watched the woman crumble to the floor…lost, so dreadfully lost. A younger woman leaned down and rocked her in her arms.

Agent Brennan literally pushed Cameron. She wouldn’t budge.
“You don’t have a choice here, Miss Quinn. You have to leave.”

Cameron caught her breath and looked around her. All eyes fixed on her
—accusing, condemning eyes. The whole of the scene seemed to go in slow motion. Security responded. People were being moved out of the corridor.

Agent Brennan was yelling, but Cameron couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. He pushed her back into the room.

Confusion reigned within her. She felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under her. Guilt riddled her. For the last two days, she had withdrawn into a fantasy world. She had lived protected and safe in the arms of Darren. He had driven every thought out of her head except being with him.

Safe while others were in danger because of her…her! Dead because of her! She had to get away. Away from all of this! She walked to
the far end of the room, toward the other door. With a trembling hand, she turned the handle. She didn’t know where she was going, but it was away from here…far away from here. She walked out the door.

Brophy tried to sit up. His head pounded. Anger filled him. He had let that fucking bastard get away. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He gripped the railing. His head was freaking spinning like a top. He had to get out of this damn bed.

Before
, he had been determined to get this guy; now, he had a grudge. For a moment, he was tempted to lay back down. He couldn’t. He didn’t have the luxury of time. He had to get the bastard.

The last memory he had was of headlights heading straight toward him. He didn't have time to react. He remembered a crash…

Vaguely, he remembered his kids looking down at him. Maybe he dreamed that. The girls were smiling. Sara cried when he squeezed her hand. Jake talked about how proud he was of him. He must have been dreaming. What had he done to be proud of?

Doctors asked his name, the day, president. Some of the questions he probably wouldn't have known even if he hadn't been in an accident. He moved his shoulder. He was going to be sore. He couldn't remember if they had given him anything for it or not. He could always buy Motrin.

Where were his goddamn clothes? He'd have to ring his nurse. He pushed off the bed and felt the cold floor under his bare feet. He made it to the chair across the room.

“
Hey, aren't you supposed to be in bed?”

Oh…that hurt. Even turning his head was an effort.
“Darren, help me find my clothes. Can't catch that sonofabitch in bed!”

“
Didn’t they tell you they want to keep you overnight?”

“
They did?” Feeling woozy, he stared at Darren. He knew better than to say he didn't remember. “You know me. Do you think I’m going to just lay in this fucking bed?”

“
I'll talk to the doctor. You'll have to sign out against doctor's advice. Give me a minute.”

“
While you're at it, see if I can get something for my headache.”

Brophy waited for Darren to return. Irritation grew as Brophy waited. Why the hell did they call it an emergency room, leaving him for what seemed like hours without a sign of a human being? Where the hell was Darren? His next course of action was heading out the
goddamn door with only his fucking johnny on and nobody wanted to see that, he was sure.

“
Detective, you should be in bed. Although I have the forms for you to sign to be released, you understand it's against doctor's advice. You have a nasty concussion,” his nurse said as he reentered the room, chart in hand.

“
Just give me my clothes and some pills. Thank you very much,” Brophy said. He took the forms and signed away rapidly. “Where’s everybody? I need to get the hell out of here.”

“
I'll go ask while I retrieve your clothes.”

The minute he laid eyes on Darren, a wave of apprehension swept through him.
“He struck again?”

“
No,” Darren replied. “No. Cameron…she’s gone. She walked out. She walked into the Halliday woman…Agent Brennan said she was upset. He put her in a room while he calmed the situation. It had another door…”

“
What the hell was she doing here anyway? Wasn’t she at your condo?”

“
Dunn told me to bring her when we got the call. Thought it best with the guy still loose… Brophy…he’s still out there!”

“
Calm yourself, Darren. She couldn’t have gone far. Where would she go?”

“
Home, I imagine, back to her apartment. I’ve got to go…”

“
Damnit, Darren, why wouldn’t she go find you? Did she figure out what you guys were doing?”

Darren didn’t bother to deny the obvious.
“Halliday’s mother blamed Cameron for her son’s death. Knowing Cameron, she does as well. I have to find her before that bastard does…”

Brophy stood, ignoring his head, his shoulder…his whole
goddamn body. “I told you you were playing with fire. This guy’s going to be furious. If he gets his hands on her…”

“
Don’t. Don’t go there. We have to find her.”

Brophy nodded.
“We will. Now help me with my pants, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * * *

Cameron had always found it ironic how everything around her could be crumbling yet the world outside went on as if nothing had happened. The day her mother was buried, the sun shone down brightly; people were out in their yards; children played in the parks; the birds sang. Her world had imploded; theirs wasn’t touched.

Her world now felt as though she had nowhere to step, no solid ground underneath her. Walking back to her apartment, the world again seemed untouched by her misery. Cars drove down the street. Pedestrians walked along without acknowledging anyone or anything in their way.

She fought back the tears as she walked to her front door. Her hands fumbled for the extra key hidden within a special cutout under the door frame. Greg had a habit of forgetting his keys, locking himself out of the apartment. He had come up with the unique design. Unless someone knew exactly where it was, no one would suspect. Thankfully, it was there.

She quickly unlocked the door. She wouldn’t be long. She couldn’t afford to be if
she wanted to get out of here. She didn’t want to call attention to herself. She turned back around and froze.

Her hand covered her mouth.
The apartment had been ransacked. The rooms looked as if a tornado had blown through: The couch and loveseat—overturned, sliced, cut to ribbons. Glasses and broken dishes littered the floor. The corner lamp was broken, thrown against the wall. She inched her way through the debris. The dining room table had been picked up and turned on its side, which seemed to have taken the blunt of the force.

She eyed her bedroom. She had to get her stuff and leave before whoever destroyed her apartment returned. She was shocked as she surveyed her living area. Clothes that she had wanted were ripped and torn to shreds. The smell…someone had urinated in her room.

She frantically searched for her phone outlet. The phone had been slung by the window. Hurriedly, she found the plug…the phone had to work. A dial tone greeted her. Relief flooded her. She hit speed dial.
Answer, please God, answer.
The only one she could trust.

“
Hello.”

“
Zach?”

“
Cameron. My God, we’ve been worried sick. Dad’s gone out of his mind. We’ve had no idea where you’re been.”

“
I don’t have time to explain, Zach. I have to get out of here, quickly.”

“
Where are you?”

“
At my apartment, but I have to get out of here. Someone has gone on a rampage. It’s a disaster, Zach.”

“
Call the police, sis.”

“
No, Zach. I’m not staying. It was a mistake to come back here. Please come get me. I don’t have a phone, money, anything. I’ll meet you down at the corner store—Lonnie’s. The whole place has been ransacked.”

“
I’m coming, sis. Get the hell out of there, now. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

* * * *

Where the hell did he put that card? Zach tore the kitchen apart. He looked up at the fridge. Attached to a magnet—ADA Darren Kennedy. Zach grabbed it as he ran out the door, clicking his cell phone to make a call.

* * * *

Cameron glanced quickly in her closet. There was absolutely nothing she could use. There was a sudden noise. Something was wrong. She shivered as she frantically searched for something to defend herself. She heard it again.

Footsteps crunched over the rubble on the floor
, heading straight toward her. Her heart pounded. She felt her heart was going to pop out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She bent down and grabbed a high heel shoe.

From behind her, a voice echoed throughout her room.
“You think you can defend yourself with a shoe?”

“
Greg. Oh, thank God. Greg. What happened?” she questioned, lowering her arm. She stared at him. Something was different. “Are you okay?”

Greg’s expression had changed. His face seemed whitened, drained of all color. His eyes glazed over. His
T-shirt was covered with blood. “No. I’m not okay. It’s not all right. Raymond’s not happy. He said I was betrayed.”

“
Raymond? Greg, who’s Raymond? Where’s Karl?”

It was as if she hadn’t said a word to him. He shook his head.
“Why, Cameron, why? Weren’t we a family?”

A surge of terror seized her. His eyes glared at her. His head cocked to the side.
“Everything went wrong. Raymond said he would fix everything. Now I can fix it.”

“
Greg, you’re talking to me, Cameron. Are you hurt? Tell me what I can do to help, Greg.” Cameron spoke as calmly as she could manage. Frantically, her mind raced. This couldn’t be happening! “Haven’t I always helped you? Haven’t we always helped each other?”

“
No,” he cried.

He grabbed his head as if it pounded. He stood between her and the bedroom door. She took her chance. She rushed by him
, pushing him to the side. Before she got halfway across the room, she was pulled roughly down from behind. She screamed. Instinct to survive kicked in. She fought and scratched.

He reached back with his fist.
That was the last sight she remembered before everything went black.

* * * *

Cameron woke for a brief period of time. She was confined in a small, closed area. She couldn't move freely. Her head hurt. Her eyes blinked. She couldn't focus. She could feel movement. Someone was driving. She realized she was in a car and speeding along, not slowing. The motion made her queasy. The car hit a bump. She hit her head again. She couldn't stretch her legs; she was in a trunk.

She tried to kick, but to no avail. Her legs wouldn't move in the direction she wanted. She squirmed, but she was situated in such a way she couldn't even bring her hand to her face. She couldn't breathe easily; her lungs cried out for more air. Her only option was the stale air in her confined space. She felt so dizzy.

Images flashed through her mind as she tried to grasp the reality around her. Matthew was dead because of her. She could see his motionless face, covered in blood; his hair mangled with his own dried blood; cold, so cold. Then a cold gaze stared at her, a seemingly familiar face, yet his eyes, his dark, frightening eyes—mirrored his desire: a desire to inflict pain, agony, and misery.

She panicked; she tried to scream, but no sound was uttered. Her mouth was bound. Trepidation overcame her. Another bump and she hit her head again
, taking her into the abyss of darkness once more.

* * * *

A wet, cold force woke Cameron. She screamed. She was untied…unbound, but it hurt to move. A spray of water continued. The floor beneath her was cold, damp, and dirty. The hard surface had no give. Her mind raced.

Where was she?
Disoriented, she tried to scramble to her feet. The water ceased. A light bored into her eyes. She cringed back. She blinked. Her left eye throbbed in pain. Her hand frantically felt her face. Her eye was swollen. She couldn’t see out of it.

“
You awake, bitch?” a terrorizing voice asked as he laughed.

The laugh
. She remembered that laugh, the night at Meghan’s. A fear gripped her. Flashes of her apartment—the shambles of the furniture, her shredded clothes, and Greg.

She turned her eyes upward
; Greg stood over her. His hair looked disheveled, as if he had just pulled off a knitted cap. His clothes haphazard, his bloodied shirt was half tucked in his pants. He stood taller in old work boots, carrying himself with an air of confidence Cameron had never seen. His wild eyes were enraged with an evil intent on his one objective.

Shadows of dark objects hanging on the walls surrounded her…prophetic of the sinister threat that had captured her. From the corner of her good eye
, she could make out a rectangular window high on the wall. She was in a basement. Her heart beat wildly as her head turned. Chains latched to the concrete walls. Collars of some sorts: whip, handcuffs, she couldn’t make out the terrifying items…some of which she had never seen before, nor comprehended what they could be used for. A basement, a dungeon.
Oh my God, oh my God. Where am I?

Her arm throbbed. She looked down. It was bloodied. He had cut out the tag the FBI had placed in her.
How…how did he know?

“
Bitch.” His voice resonated around her. She faced him once again. The shadows became more ominous. Her whole body trembled, drenched, in sub-twenty degree temperatures, not knowing whether it was from the cold, the wet, or the object Greg held in his hand.

“
You will have to be punished. You betrayed me. You disobeyed me. You disrespected me. No one disrespects me,” he cried. He swung back his arm, lifting a whip high above his head. It came down with such force that the whip snapped back, hitting him as it rebounded off Cameron’s defenseless body. She screamed.