Indivisible. Part 44

"The station." Her voice quivered. "But I'm armed." She held the gun she'd never fired outside the range.

She was not thinking as an officer. He jerked his chin. "Get back in the car."

She shook her head.

Caldwell opened his door, the dome light illuminating the immediate area. They froze. As Caldwell leaned down and fiddled with something, Jonah removed his vest and slipped it over her. He'd confiscated Caldwell's guns, but they may have been returned when charges were dropped.

Caldwell climbed out. Sue clutched her revolver. Jonah pressed her arm down and jerked his chin once more to the vehicles behind them. She recognized the order but shook her head again.

In one swift motion, he disarmed her. No clearer way to show he meant it.

Her face twisted. The truck door closed, casting them in darkness. He pressed his mouth to her ear. "Get back to my car and direct the others to circle around." If she disobeyed this, she was through.

Her motion made Caldwell pause and search the darkness, but he moved on.

Weapon drawn, Jonah crept closer and crouched. He needed backup, and he needed it now. Almost smothered in pines, the shack blended into the slope. The door opened when Caldwell approached. A large, bald Caucasian with an a.s.sault rifle searched the area, hindered, Jonah hoped, by the light behind him.

Another man with a rifle came around the far side of the shed into the light cast from the doorway. Sean Bolton, a lowlife since his teens, probably strung out. The other guy looked unimpaired. Malcolm? Or Greggor himself? "What are you doing here?"

"They pulled the morons off me. I need product."

"Greggor told you to keep away."

That made the bald one Malcolm.

Caldwell said, "Come on, man. Let me talk to him."

Jonah heard a rustle. He reached down and clicked his radio b.u.t.ton, got a return click, then two more. Either Moser or McCarthy had joined Beatty and Newly. He looked back at Caldwell. Thanks to Officer Donnelly, they had not only the lab but the operators-and no plan.

Jonah sensed someone behind him. "Where's your vest?" Moser breathed.

Jonah shook his head. Sound carried too easily. He motioned Moser to the right, then caught a glimpse of someone flanking Sean on the far side of the shack. Newly?

A voice spoke from inside. Malcolm raised his weapon.

"No," Caldwell dove and rolled at the same moment Jonah shouted, "Freeze!"

Bullets sprayed.

Jonah spun, feeling a punch. The door slammed, casting them into darkness for only seconds before return shots caused a whump whump of flame and an explosion that tossed him like a straw man. Landing hard on his spine, he lost his breath, then rolled to his knees. Choking on the caustic chemical smoke, heat crisping his skin, he charged the flaming, fleeing man who'd fallen out the window. He covered him to smother the flames. of flame and an explosion that tossed him like a straw man. Landing hard on his spine, he lost his breath, then rolled to his knees. Choking on the caustic chemical smoke, heat crisping his skin, he charged the flaming, fleeing man who'd fallen out the window. He covered him to smother the flames.

Not large enough to be Malcolm the shooter, and not Sean who'd been outside, he guessed he'd just extinguished Greggor. Jonah searched and cuffed him, stuffed a large-caliber handgun into his own waistband, then dragged him farther from the flaming shack. By the light of the blaze, he saw his rookie, Beatty, cuffing a wounded Caldwell.

Distant sirens pierced the night. She must have called it in. He hoped they could contain the fire before acres of forest and half the town went up. Surrounding trees already held dripping pockets of flame. Coughing, Moser staggered up, a gash on his forehead.

"Moser, you okay?"

"I can't raise Newly."

"I'll find him. Take this one."

He ran to the far side of the blaze where he'd last seen Sean and Newly. Fire licked the forest floor. A dark figure lay beneath a log plank. Eyes stinging, Jonah heaved the plank aside and found Sean. No pulse, only blood all over his ragged throat and chest.

He hollered, "Newly?"

A groan from his left. "I think my leg's broken."

Jonah hurried to where Newly had landed on a rusted car cha.s.sis. As the fire climbed up around them, he fitted his shoulder under Newly's arm and hauled him up. Newly hollered, then stifled it.

"We've got to get past the flames." The smell of burnt gra.s.s and leaves joined the chemicals. The shack was burning like a torch, the meth gases a smorgasbord for the ravenous flames. Jonah hooked an elbow over his mouth and nose, blinking as he hauled Newly through the knee-high flames. "Don't breathe it in."

Newly bobbed his head. Sirens shrilling, lights swirling, the first fire engine pulled through the narrow pa.s.sage. While some of the crew uncoiled hose, Jonah directed Walsh to the torched Greggor, then hollered, "Got a body. Far side." No sense looking for Malcolm. Only one had come out of the shack.

Jonah eased Newly onto the big metal truck step and gripped the door handle, swaying. "Want to wait for an ambulance?"

Newly shook his head, coughing. Jonah gathered himself and helped Newly to the Bronco, got him into the back, then motioned Sue out of the driver's seat. She'd pulled her hood over her mouth and nose, but even at this distance, her eyes were running.

Glancing to make sure her Jeep had access, he ordered, "Meet me at the station."

Jonah climbed behind the wheel. With his hand pressed to his side, he braced himself against the searing pain now making an appearance. He looked back at Newly. "Hold on."

"You hold on, Chief." Newly grinned. "What a night."

When Piper whimpered, Tia took her hand.

Piper's eyes blinked open. "I don't feel good."

"That's because Bob drugged you."

A second's delay. "What? With what?"

"The date-rape drug."

"Unh." Piper lurched up and rushed for the bathroom.

Almost 2 a.m. Piper had been out five and a half hours. She came back and sank down beside Tia, rubbing her temples. "How do you know?"

"Jonah saw him do it."

"Did he-"

"Bob never got you out of the restaurant." Thanks to Jonah. Remorse stabbed her. He had not deserved the things she'd said.

Piper moaned. "I need to lie down."

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

"I'm too woozy."

Tia settled her into the recliner. Two in the morning or not, she had to talk to him. She moved into the kitchen and phoned, surprised that it went to voice mail. On or off duty, even sleeping, he should answer. Unless he was out on a call.

She tried the station, and a woman said, "Officer Donnelly."

"I'm looking for Jonah Westfall. This is Tia Manning."

"I'm sorry, Tia." Sue Donnelly's voice hitched. "Chief Westfall's been shot."

Tia almost dropped the phone. Oh, please G.o.d Oh, please G.o.d.

"They took him to Tri-County Hospital."

"Then he's alive." Her heart kick-started. "How bad is it?"

"He got to the station and collapsed. They took him by helicopter."

Tia thanked her and hung up. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her purse but didn't rouse Piper, who'd fallen back to sleep. He'd only been gone a few hours. Not gone gone. She trembled. Away Away. They'd been apart six hours. And he'd been shot? She stifled a sob.

The road was too winding, the night too dark. The hospital looked like a movie set for M. Night Shyamalan, disturbing, fraught with impending storm. She ran through the automatic emergency doors, halting at the counter. She spoke through the small window. "Jonah Westfall?"

She held her breath while the man checked his screen.

"He's in recovery."

She took her first full breath as the man directed her to the surgical waiting room. She ran for the elevators, ended up in the closed cafeteria, backtracked, and turned into the pa.s.s-through with the elevator bank.

Adam Moser looked up when she approached. Taller than Jonah, he unfolded from the chair, a bandage taped on his arching forehead. "He's out of surgery. Newly too, though I guess you're here about the chief."

"Did they tell you anything?"

"The bullet pa.s.sed through the tissue in his side, nicked his colon, and broke a rib getting out. Barring complications, he should be okay." He rubbed a knuckle into each bloodshot eye. "I guess if you're here, I'll go home to my wife."

When he'd gone, she found a nurse and asked, "Jonah Westfall?"

"Are you family?"

"I'm his ..."

"He's in recovery. I'll buzz you through."

She must have looked stunned. She was was stunned. Jonah. So vital just hours before, then shot. She went through the wide wooden doors and saw him lying on one of the gurneys, eyes closed. He smelled like disinfectant and looked pale and fragile. Even as a battered kid, he'd never seemed breakable. Trembling, she drew close and pressed her hand to his face. stunned. Jonah. So vital just hours before, then shot. She went through the wide wooden doors and saw him lying on one of the gurneys, eyes closed. He smelled like disinfectant and looked pale and fragile. Even as a battered kid, he'd never seemed breakable. Trembling, she drew close and pressed her hand to his face.

His eyes flickered.

"Jonah?"

They opened slowly, streaked red and bleary like Adam Moser's. "Hey." His voice rasped.

"Thank G.o.d."

"Good idea."

"What happened?"

He blinked. "Later."

She gripped his hand between hers, tears filling her eyes. "Jonah, I'm so sorry!"

His throat worked, but no words came.

"We're moving him to a room now," an older nurse said. "Do you want to follow?"

Tia stood back as the woman rolled him to the elevator and then to a room, not in the ICU, she realized with relief. A younger, plumper nurse joined the first. They transferred him to the bed, and the older nurse said, "He did well through surgery. He's strong."

He was strong. And brave. And good. Tears formed again. "Thank you."

The other nurse checked his IV, connected his oxygen, and replaced the clip on his finger to monitor his oxygen. She took his blood pressure and made notes on his chart. "The chair's a recliner if you're staying." She wrote "Nancy" on a small whiteboard. "That's me if you need something."

"Thank you."

The blue-gray chair next to the bed pulled out into something like a bent cot. She could feel the frame through the cus.h.i.+oning. At home with Piper, she had been too upset to sleep. Beside Jonah, she drifted into a raw and anxious semiconsciousness where Piper ran blindly, hands outstretched. Jonah chased a shadow, blood streaming from his side, as Lauren waited with bandages, and Enola snarled at something dark and menacing in the woods.

With a gasp she woke to Jonah's open eyes.

He moistened his lips. "Can't stop sleeping together."

Curled on her side facing him, she reached through the bars and grasped his hand. "I don't want to."

One side of his mouth pulled. "I don't either. You're the only one whose hair looks worse than mine in the morning."

She pinched him.

"Ow."

"Sorry." She rubbed the spot. "And I'm sorry about last night." Then realizing last night was pretty broad for him, "What you said about Reba, about us."

She ma.s.saged the muscle of his unbandaged forearm. "I didn't want it to be true that she could love me that much when I hurt her so badly. Then I realized she'd done it for you."

"For both of us."

She brushed her fingers down the arm. "When I thought of it that way, I could understand."

"You don't see how people love you." He blinked. "But you will."

When she realized he'd fallen asleep, she phoned Piper, who sounded a little more like herself. "Are you doing all right?"

"I guess. I'm done throwing up and walking into things."

"I'm sorry I had to leave."