14 - J. T. Ellison [59]
She wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t going to search without backup. She stepped back against the wall and pulled out her cell phone just as Baldwin appeared on the other side of the door. She could see his wild eyes through the wired glass. She pulled open the door, shaking her head.
“I don’t know which way he went. I was just calling you.” She spoke quietly. Baldwin leaned in to hear her.
He whispered back. “I called it in. I don’t like this. Not one bit. There’s a doctor in her room who was cold-cocked. He’s unconscious but alive. Fitz and Marcus are on their way with a butt load of uniforms. They’ll cover the entrances. Let’s take it slow, start down this hallway on the left.”
“Think this might have been the man she works for? The way she told it, she’s important to her boss. What in the hell is going on?”
He shrugged. “Either she’s valuable as a pro, or she knows too much.”
“Yeah. You go left, I’ll go right. We’re covered below. He’s gone, I don’t think he’s still here. Just don’t think I was quick enough.”
That’s when she realized that her ankle was killing her. She must have twisted it when she jumped over the railing. Superwoman, she was not.
“Okay. Go slow, be careful.”
They parted, heading down opposite paths. It didn’t take long.
Baldwin sent out a long, low whistle. Taylor backtracked until she found him standing over a body.
On closer inspection, she made out the small, quiet face of Saraya Gonzalez. Her blood pooled beneath her—that sharp bang. It wasn’t Taylor’s boots hitting the landing, it was the killer shooting this poor girl.
Taylor holstered her weapon and ran her fingers through her hair. This was turning into one of the worst weeks she’d ever known.
The emergency entrance bay to Baptist Hospital was crowded with police cruisers, overflowing into the street. The blue lights flashed up and down Twentieth Avenue; the area hummed with activity.
Taylor stood at the command post, watching. A manhunt was on for the shooter, though it seemed he’d gotten away from the area. A thorough search had revealed a wig, baseball cap and jacket in the municipal trash outside the emergency room exit. The video had been analyzed; the shooter had exited through the emergency room bay with the disguise intact, and hadn’t shed his fake identity until he was well out of range of the cameras. They had a height and approximate weight, but nothing else. Roadblocks had been set in a mile perimeter, but without knowing what they were looking for, they wouldn’t be much use. It was time to admit defeat on this event, and Taylor was furious—with herself, Baldwin, the shooter and any available person within forty feet.
Another two bodies for Sam: Saraya and the nurse at the head station. Bad timing for her; if she’d just been in another spot on the floor she might have lived. Jesus. Why hadn’t he just shot the girl and been done with it? Why had he tried to take her out of the hospital? Kidnap her, then murder her? Saraya mustn’t have been kidding when she spoke of her value to her employer. Damn. The only lead Taylor had into that world was gone.
Fitz was standing nearby, talking quietly into his cell phone. He hung up and looked over at Taylor. She knew something was wrong, the set of his chin was a dead giveaway. Someone else was dead.
She caught his eye, raised an eyebrow. He held up a finger in a wait-a-minute gesture, then finished the call. When he shut the phone, he ran a hand over his face, and Taylor saw how tired he was. Fitz wasn’t a spring chicken anymore; the stress of the week was showing on his haggard features. He came to her then, shaking his head.
“We’ve got a murder scene,” he said when he reached her. “Need to head over there. Want to join me?”
“Goddamn. How much more can we take today?” Taylor swept a hand at the chaos. “Is it Jane Macias?”
“Doesn’t look that way. It’s one of the massage parlors off Nolensville Road.”
Relief flowed through her chest. She just couldn’t stand the idea of failing one more girl.
“Massage parlor mania today. I thought we had