Chapter Thirty-Four
"I'm not answering questions, officer, while my adrenaline is rushing around," Olivia said. "I will go to the hospital for a check. And then, I will have at least one good night's sleep or two, then my lawyer, my boss at the prosecutor's office, and I will sit down with the correct person and answer your questions."
"Ma'am," The officer swirled the tip of his ballpoint pen over his pad, "we need a statement."
"If I'm under arrest, you can talk to my lawyer. If you're telling me, as a witness and victim, that I am required to say anything to you at all, you're wrong, and you know it."
Olivia had a swollen red patch on the side of her face. She had refused an ambulance, but she insisted they both needed to be seen at the hospital.
And Nutsbe agreed. In the small space, he'd manipulated his body in ways that he knew were problematic for his legs.
The upstairs man was being hauled out of the house cuffed to a gurney, seemingly concussive and out of it.
After Downstairs had bolted into the night, Gator—the responding operator from Strike Force—had turned his attention to the fight on the second floor, ensuring that Nutsbe and Olivia had the support they needed.
Now, Gator was outside, waiting for Bob to bring in Whiskey and Chaser, the Iniquus-trained bloodhounds. There was no visible escape vehicle, meaning a criminal roamed the sleeping neighborhood. Iniquus wanted to track him down before he did more harm.
Knowing that, Nutsbe had already pulled off Upstairs' boot and handed it over to Gator as a scent source.
"Okay, the emergency vehicles will pull out in a minute," Nutsbe said. "It's time to head to the hospital."
"I need shoes. And keys." She clenched her fists, trying to get her systems to function properly. "I've got this. Just need to pull on my big girl panties, and I'll be ready."
"Olivia?" Man, this is a hard one. He fought hard to keep his tone even.
"Yes?"
"Did you have panties on when they broke in?"
"No. I was in bed. I sleep in a nightshirt." She pulled the cloth out as if that gave him more information, then looked down. "Oh, I see what you're asking me." She popped her gaze back to meet his. "No. I wasn't sexually assaulted."
He nodded. It took him a minute to let that fear go. "Okay. Good." His voice was gruff.
"Yeah. Whew! Right?" She turned toward the stairs. "Okay, shoes and cellphone."
Nutsbe reached out and touched her arm to still her for a moment. "Olivia?"
She turned. "Yes?"
"When you go upstairs, sit with your phone and record everything you remember happening. Every little detail that comes to you before anyone else talks to you."
"Yes. I know that. I knew that. I didn't think of that. Thank you for that."
"Panties." He points up the stairs.
"Yes. Panties."
***
They had to wait until the last emergency vehicle left before they could get going.
They sat in Olivia's car with their seatbelts in place and the engine idling.
Olivia was on her phone, waking her best friend, and asking for help with Henrietta. Wheels were turning. Players were in play. Things were humming along.
Just who was it in her house? And what did they want?
He'd push that to the side until the wellness checks were complete. Everyone needed a minute to reach equilibrium, and brains could function alongside the rattle of nerves.
Olivia looked at her phone and found the number of times Nutsbe had tried to call.
She stopped on the text: CALL ME NOW!
Turning the phone to him so he could see.
Nustbe briefly explained his concern when Clive said the motorcycles hadn't run the night before and what he found when he tracked the ambush motorcycles back to the courthouse.
"That's how you got to me so fast."
"Not fast enough," he said, feeling the ache in his lower leg bones. That had him a bit worried. They had never hurt like that before. It didn't seem to affect his ability to walk, but he still needed someone to check him out.
The rain didn't start in earnest until they turned out of their neighborhood, onto the main road, and eased onto the highway.
The ambulance, with Upstairs in the back, was ahead of them on the way to the same hospital. Olivia eased off on the gas and let the flow of cars make a buffer. Nutsbe wasn't sure that going to the same hospital and being in the same emergency department was a good idea, but Alexandria was the hospital Iniquus instructed Nutsbe to use.
The traffic inched along. Some venue must have just let out.
Behind them, a single headlight wove in and out of the cars, sometimes coming up the middle between lanes. Horns blared, and Olivia turned.
"Get down," Nutsbe said, hoping this wasn't Downstairs coming after Olivia.
Olivia curled over the wheel. Her hands laced behind her neck.
The motorcycle buzzed right by them.
"He's gone. You can get up."
"What—"
Nutsbe pulled out his phone and pressed the quick dial.
"Iniquus Communications. Identification."
How many times had he patched through in the last seventy-two hours? This was ridiculous. "Nutsbe. Panther Force. Track GPS coordinates to this phone. Over."
"I have you on the board, traveling north on 395. Over."
"Patch me through to Titus Kane. Over." Opening communications with Titus in this way gave Titus real-time information and looped communications in so they could move players into place without disrupting the dissemination of information.
"Go for Titus."
"Titus, man, you're aware of the situation? Over."
"Strike Force has kept me abreast. You're heading to the hospital with Olivia. Over."
She depressed the brake, bringing them to a complete stop in the snarl of traffic.
"Affirmative." What in that actual hell?
Olivia's hand gripped Nutsbe's forearm, and she squeezed tight.
"New situation. We are at a standstill in a traffic jam on 395. The car ahead of ours buffers us from the ambulance with the injured assailant from Olivia's house. A motorcycle has stopped beside the passenger side of the ambulance and has pulled a gun. I will refer to him as Assailant One. Visual is limited by rain. The person from the ambulance passenger seat is getting out. The driver is also getting out of the right side. Assailant One is waving them to the back of the ambulance. A rescue worker is opening the back door. The injured man from Olivia's house, whom I will now identify as Assailant Two, is in the back, handcuffed to the Gurney. Assailant One is waving his gun, and all three have now climbed into the ambulance. There are now four people in the ambulance. I can't make out the activity from this vantage point. Over."
"What are they doing?" Olivia asked under her breath, leaning forward.
Nutsbe assumed that was rhetorical. He continued to describe the situation. "Both assailants are emerging from the back of the ambulance. Assailant Two has his arm over Assailant One's shoulder. They are moving together to the motorcycle. Over"
"Nutsbe, you are to stand down. You will not intervene." Titus commanded. "Let them go. Over."
"Wilco. Standing down. Over and out."
Olivia was sitting safely beside him. Nutsbe wasn't going to go try to knock a guy off his bike when a gun was in the mix.
Sirens could be heard. The cops were in play. But with the rain, the traffic, and the dexterity of a bike, Nutsbe thought it was a lost cause. They would escape.
After a moment, the traffic flowed again on either side. Their lane wasn't moving. Nutsbe wondered what had happened that the ambulance wasn't moving. "I'm going to check on them," Olivia said as she jumped from the car.
Nutsbe reached out his hand, but she was already out the door.
She jogged forward, and a moment later, she was back, saying they had been handcuffed to the gurney.
With the handcuff key in Nutsbe's EDC, they released the first responders, who pulled to the side of the road.
Olivia put their car in gear and started them back down the highway, turning onto 420. In a moment, they'd be at the hospital.
Nutsbe was glad the shitstorm was clearing.
Things should go easier from here.
But in the back of his head, Nutsbe heard a chuckle and Murphy's Law, man. Murphy's Law.