Countdown - Iris Johansen [5]
Another shot.
“Don’t kill her, you fool. She’s no good to us dead.”
“The kid may already be dead. I’m not leaving a witness.”
The voice came from right in front of her.
Blind him.
She turned the lights on high as she started the car.
And ducked as a bullet shattered the windshield.
The tires screeched as she stomped on the accelerator and backed out of the alley.
“Jane . . .”
She looked down at Mike and her heart sank. His chest . . . Blood. So much blood.
“It’s okay, Mike. You’re going to be fine.”
“I . . . don’t want to die.”
“I’m taking you to the emergency room right now. You’re not going to die.”
“Scared.”
“I’m not.” Christ, she was lying. She was terrified, but she couldn’t let him see it. “Because there’s no reason to be. You’re going to get through this.”
“Why?” he whispered. “Why did they— Money? You should have given it to them. I don’t want to die.”
“They didn’t ask me for money.” She swallowed. Don’t cry now. Pull over and try to stop that bleeding and then get him to the emergency room. “Just hold on, Mike. Trust me. You’re going to be all right.”
“Promise . . . me.” He was slumping forward in the seat. “Don’t want to . . .”
Ms. MacGuire?”
A doctor?
Jane looked up quickly at the tall, fortyish man standing in the doorway of the waiting room. “How is he?”
“Sorry. I’m not a doctor. I’m Detective Lee Manning. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Later,” she said curtly. She wished she could stop shaking. Dear God, she was scared. “I’m waiting for—”
“The doctors are working on your friend. It’s a difficult operation. They won’t be out to talk to you for a while.”
“That’s what they told me, but it’s been over four hours, dammit. No one’s said a word to me since they took him away.”
“Operating rooms are busy places.” He came toward her. “And I’m afraid we have to get a statement from you. You showed up here with a victim suffering a gunshot wound and we have to find out what happened. The longer we wait, the greater chance we have of losing the perpetrator.”
“I told them what happened when I checked Mike in to the hospital.”
“Tell me again. You say robbery didn’t appear to be the motive?”
“They didn’t ask for money. They wanted—I don’t know what they wanted. They said something about the girl not being any good to them dead. That’s me, I guess.”
“Rape?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s possible. A kidnapping? Do your parents have a good deal of money?”
“I’m an orphan, but I’ve lived with Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn since I was a kid. Joe’s a cop like you but he has private money. Eve is a forensic sculptor and she does more charity work than professional.”
“Eve Duncan . . . I’ve heard of her.” He turned as another man came into the room carrying a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming coffee. “This is Sergeant Ken Fox. He thought you’d need a pick-me-up.”
“I’m glad to meet you, ma’am.” Fox offered her the cup with a polite smile. “It’s black, but I’ll be glad to get you another one with cream if you like.”
“Are you playing good cop, bad cop with me? It won’t work.” But she took the cup of coffee. She needed it. “Like I said, I was brought up by a cop.”
“That must have come in handy tonight,” Manning said. “It’s hard to believe you were able to fight your way out of that alley.”
“Believe what you like.” She sipped the coffee. “But find out from the doctors if Mike’s going to live. Those nurses gave me all kinds of soothing noncommittal assurances, but I don’t know whether to believe them. They’ll talk to you.”
“They think he has a good chance.”
“Just a chance?”
“He was shot in the chest and he lost a good deal of blood.”
“I know.” She moistened her lips. “I tried to stop it.”
“You did a good job. The doctors say you may have saved his life. How did you know what to do?”
“I took EMT training three years ago. It comes in handy. I sometimes go to disaster sites with my friend Sarah Logan, who does canine rescue work.”
“You seem to have all kinds of talents.”
She stiffened. “Are you being sarcastic? I don’t need that kind of hassle right