Chapter Twenty-Nine

The mobile command center was swarming with FBI agents and crime scene techs. Nicole made her way around a scrum of sheriff’s deputies and paused at the base of the trailer’s portable steps.

“Damn crutches.”

The door swung open and Adam stepped out, thank God.

“Hey, is Brady in there?” she asked him.

“He’s talking to the Washington guy.”

“Get him for me, would you?”

Adam hesitated a moment, then ducked back into the trailer.

Nicole surveyed the scene around her. Every law enforcement agency in the tri-county area was represented here, even the Coast Guard. Evidently, no one wanted to miss out on the action.

Within minutes of McVoy’s arrest, Cassandra had been transported to the hospital to get checked out. Her injuries had seemed minor, but she’d been shaking uncontrollably and was practically catatonic from shock. Detectives would need to interview her to understand the details of her abduction. One thing was obvious—if police hadn’t arrived the moment they did, Cassandra would likely be dead at the bottom of that pit right now.

Nicole checked her phone for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, she felt a stab of fear.

“Lawson.”

She glanced up to see Brady leaning out of the trailer. “What is it? I’m in the middle of something.”

“I finished that video statement,” she said. “They got everything they need from me.”

“Good.”

“Any word from the hospital?” she asked.

“No.”

“The FBI sent someone over there. Can you ask?”

Brady ducked back into the trailer. The feds had sent an agent with Emmet to obtain a statement from him as soon as he was finished getting treated, but that was more than an hour ago. Seventy-two minutes, to be exact.

The chief came back. “No word.”

Fear clawed at her.

“I want to head over and get an update,” she said.

The chief looked her over with a frown, and seemed to pick up on how anxious she was.

“Fine. Go,” he said. “Take the SUV. Let me know what you hear.”

“Will do.”

She crutched over to the police SUV and luckily found the keys inside. She stashed her crutches in the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.

Quiet, finally.

For a moment she stared at the dashboard in a daze. The past ninety minutes had been pandemonium as dozens of first responders converged on the scene. Nicole hadn’t seen Emmet since he had been loaded into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital amid a wail of sirens.

A flesh wound, he’d said. Right. That’s why it had been bleeding so profusely it needed a tourniquet. Tears burned her eyes as she started the car.

Someone pounded on the window, and she jumped, startled. Owen.

She buzzed down the window.

“You going to the hospital?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I just heard from one of the agents who’s there guarding McVoy. Sounds like he just went into surgery for his knee.”

Nicole couldn’t give a damn about McVoy’s injuries.

“He told me Emmet’s out.”

Her heart clenched. “Out? You mean he’s—”

“He’s out of the hospital,” Owen told her. “They stitched him up and sent him home.”