Chapter 30

Thirty

NOW!

With a mighty yank, Lindsey jerked her wrists apart.

The loosened cording gave way, freeing her hands.

Thank you, God!

After giving Dr. Oliver a shove, she swung away and took off across the grated floor of the narrow, rusted ramp that offered a dizzying view into the bowels of the building.

Unfortunately, the element of surprise didn't last long.

"Anthony! Go after her!"

As Heidi's command bounced off the walls of the empty building, Lindsey picked up her pace. But it was hard to move fast in the dark on a surface that didn't feel any too steady.

Despite his less-than-optimal physical condition, he pounded after her on the metal platform, shaking it even more.

It was everything she could do to remain upright as she ran on the vibrating grate beneath her feet.

But she managed to keep her balance—until the toe of her shoe caught in a loose piece of grating and she stumbled.

The next instant, Dr. Oliver grabbed her arm.

"Anthony! Push her over! Be done with this!"

At Heidi's cold, callous words, anger swelled inside Lindsey.

She hadn't come this close to escaping to fail. If someone was destined to be pitched over the side, it wasn't going to be her.

Swinging around, she went into attack mode.

She pummeled Dr. Oliver with her free fist. Dodged his blows. Writhed in his grasp after he latched onto her other arm. She fought him with every ounce of her strength as they bounced back and forth between the side railings on the ramp suspended high above the unforgiving concrete floor of the warehouse.

"Stop resisting ... Lindsey." He panted the command, clearly winded by the exertion. "I'm stronger ... than you are."

Maybe when he wasn't sick.

But his skin was burning up.

And he also had an Achilles' heel.

She latched onto the arm with the tattoo. The exact spot that had caused him to yowl in pain earlier when she'd touched him there.

It had the same effect this time, and he jerked free, raining curses on her.

Blocking out his vile obscenities, she prepared to bolt and take her chances with Heidi's gun. It held a limited number of bullets, and unless the not-so-grieving widow had a superb aim, shooting in the dark would only waste ammunition.

But Dr. Oliver lunged at her before she could swivel around.

Somehow she managed to sidestep a full body slam on the narrow platform. But as she angled sideways to avoid him, he connected with her shoulder, tipping her off-balance.

A second later, he crashed into the railing headfirst, knocking a section of the rusted metal out as he fell to the ramp and lay unmoving, one limp arm hanging into the abyss.

Tremors ricocheted through the walkway from the impact, and Lindsey tottered. Tried to latch onto something. Anything.

Failed.

She pitched toward the gap in the railing, groping in empty air for a handhold as she fell toward the blackness, her scream echoing like a death knell in the silent, tomb-like warehouse.

THE WOMAN'S SCREAM changed everything.

"Scrap the previous plan. We're going in fast." Heart pounding, Jack opened the door and dashed into the warehouse ahead of the two officers who'd accompanied him.

It was hard to see much in the darkness, but blindly sweeping flashlight beams around would pinpoint their location and put a bull's-eye on them.

Fortunately, the click of rapid footsteps on metal helped him home in on the action.

A person was running up the steps to the catwalk. Too tall to be Lindsey, too thin to be Oliver.

It must be Heidi.

He scanned the length of the walkway suspended high above the floor of the warehouse, squinting at the metal structure as he tried to—

His lungs froze.

Lindsey was hanging from the edge of the ramp. Holding tight for the moment, but she wouldn't be able to maintain her grip long if she was injured.

Above her, someone lay motionless. Had to be Oliver.

"We're moving in." He nudged the officer next to him. "Find a secure spot fast that offers cover and shine your light at the person climbing the steps." He turned to the other officer as the first one melted into the darkness. "I want light on the two people on the catwalk the instant I give you the word. Let's go."

As they ran forward, a spotlight picked out the figure on the stairs.

Jack stopped as the woman swung around and shaded her eyes.

Identity confirmed.

It was Heidi.

He lifted his Sig Sauer and called out. "St. Louis County Police. Drop your weapon."

Instead of complying, she raised a gun and aimed it his general direction.

Didn't she realize she made a perfect target in the spotlight?

"Drop your weapon. Now!" Jack held steady, aiming for her center mass. He had no time for games, not with Lindsey's life literally hanging in the balance.

A shot rang out, pinging off metal behind him as the recoil jolted Heidi.

She was shooting blind.

The odds were she wouldn't hit anything—but she could get lucky. And she'd been warned.

Jack squeezed the trigger once. Twice.

Her gun clattered to the warehouse floor below her as she crumpled and slid down the steps.

He didn't spare her a second look as he spoke to the officer beside him. "I want light on the catwalk. Get the other officers in here. Call for ambulances. Follow me up as soon as someone else can take your place with the light." He sprinted for the metal stairs. "Hold on, Lindsey. I'm coming." His shouted entreaty reverberated through the structure.

At the base of the stairs, he glanced up ... and up ... and up to what lay ahead.

A flimsy, grated floor. Rusted railings. A staircase with a landing that didn't look any too solid.

All very high up.

He broke out in a cold sweat as his stomach began to churn.

His worst nightmare had just come to life.

What if his latent vertigo reared its ugly head? What if he lost his balance or became disoriented or—

"Jack! Hurry! I'm slipping!"

At Lindsey's panicked plea, he gritted his teeth.

He could do this.

He would do this.

Fixing his gaze on the solid surface beneath his feet, he bounded up the metal treads, stepping over and around Heidi where she'd come to rest on the landing as he continued upward. Once on the catwalk, he steadied himself with one hand on the railing and kept his Sig at the ready as he raced toward Lindsey, doing his best to ignore the quiver in the grating beneath his feet ... and the quiver in his legs.

As he approached the spotlighted area, he gave Oliver a quick inspection.

The man lay sprawled on the grating, unmoving. He appeared to be breathing, but as far as Jack could see, he posed no imminent threat.

After shoving the man's legs aside, Jack holstered his Sig and dropped flat on his stomach on the grillwork above Lindsey as more light flooded the area. Locking his feet around the closest railing supports, he reached down and grasped her forearms, keeping his focus on her rather than the chasm stretching below. "I've got you, sweetheart."

"My hands ... are slipping."

"I won't let you fall. I promise."

"You shouldn't ... be up here. It's too ... high for you."

She was worried about him after almost plunging to her death?

His throat clogged. "I'm fine." Not even close, but he'd get through this—even if the warehouse was beginning to spin around him.

"Don't ... let me go."

"Never. That's a promise."

In more ways than one.

The other officer joined him, and he switched back into his official voice. "Grab her right arm. Let's pull her up on the count of three."

Ten seconds later, Lindsey was standing on the walkway in the circle of his arms, tremors rippling through her body as she clung to him.

Or were the tremors his?

Didn't matter. She was safe, and as soon as they were back on terra firma, he'd be fine.

That couldn't happen fast enough to suit him.

"I can't believe you found me." The erratic breath from her choked, whispered words fluttered against his neck.

"It was close. Too close. Let's get off this catwalk." He gently extricated himself from her clasp and helped her skirt around Oliver.

"Is he ... is he alive?" She edged past the man's prone form.

"I think so." He directed his next comment to the officer. "Stay with him until the paramedics get here."

They had to sidle past Heidi too as they descended. Keeping a firm grip on Lindsey, he guided her around the slumped body.

"Is she ... is she dead?"

Jack glanced down at the officer who'd descended to the floor after giving her a cursory assessment. The man shook his head.

"Yes. Hold on to the railing while we go down this last stretch. I'll be right in front of you. I won't let you fall."

He maneuvered himself ahead of her and followed his own advice with the railing. With the stiffening evaporating from his legs, he needed the support as much as she did.

At the bottom, he turned and helped her down the last couple of steps. "Let's get you checked out." The paramedics had arrived, and he put his arm around her as he guided her toward them. Not his usual protocol on the job, but when the woman you were falling for had almost died, the rules didn't apply.

"I'm fine, Jack." She held back as he tried to urge her forward. "I don't need medical attention."

"I'd rather hear that from an expert. Humor me?"

She sighed and offered him a tiny lip flex. "It's hard to say no to a person who saved your life."

As she leaned into him, he led her toward the paramedics.

One of them sized her up as they drew close, then set up a stair chair. The kind another team was already carrying toward the steps to transport Oliver off the catwalk.

Smart move.

No way was Lindsey going to let them put her on a stretcher.

"You're my first patient of the night." The fortysomething guy smiled as they approached, his relaxed, affable manner no doubt designed to calm injured and sick people who were also stressed and scared. "Have a seat." He tapped the chair.

She lowered herself onto it gingerly. As if she hurt all over.

After hanging from a catwalk, that wouldn't be unexpected.

But what other injuries did she have?

Jack dropped to his haunches beside her, scrutinizing her in the illumination from the lights the medical team was setting up as he twined his fingers with hers.

To put it kindly, she was a mess.

Her temple was black-and-blue, her lips were raw and puffy, and when she pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to display her bruised and bloody wrists in response to a question from the paramedic, his stomach kinked, fermenting the anger already brewing there.

Given Lindsey's physical injuries, plus the emotional trauma she'd been put through, it was hard to feel even one iota of remorse for taking Heidi out.

As for Oliver—assuming he survived, they ought to lock him up forever.

Jack remained silent while the paramedic took vitals, flashed his penlight in Lindsey's pupils, and asked a ton of questions. But he didn't relinquish his grip on her hand.

"How hard did you hit your head?" The paramedic examined the bruise on her temple.

"Hard enough to see stars. But I hit the back of my head harder."

"Show me where."

She touched a spot near the middle.

As soon as the man began to feel it, she winced. "Ouch."

"Sorry." Nevertheless, he continued probing. "That's quite a goose egg. Did you lose consciousness?"

"No."

"The ER docs may want to image that."

"No." Her posture stiffened. "I don't have any concussion symptoms."

"No headache?"

She gave a shrug of concession. "Other than a headache."

"What about dizziness, nausea, light or sound sensitivity, confusion?"

"No."

"Any neck pain or weakness or tingling anywhere?"

"No."

"I can treat your abrasions here, but with two bumps to the head, it may be smart to be evaluated for a brain injury in the ER."

"That's not necessary. I'll be fine."

"Lindsey." Jack squeezed her hand and rejoined the conversation. "Why don't you let them take you to the hospital? If there's any damage, waiting could be a mistake."

Indecision flickered in her eyes. "I hate causing you any more worry, but I really want to go home, Jack." Her voice hitched, and moisture pooled on her lower lashes. "I can call 911 if any symptoms develop."

After all she'd been through, it wasn't hard to understand why she'd crave the comfort of familiar surroundings.

He looked at the paramedic. "In your opinion, how dangerous would it be if she went home?"

The man regarded her. "My official recommendation is to go to the ER. That said, I'm not seeing any strong evidence of a serious brain injury, and the risk passes after about four hours. I don't think the danger would be too high if someone stayed with her until the early hours of the morning, and she followed up with a doctor who has experience in concussions within a few days."

"I'll stay."

"Jack." Lindsey touched his hand. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask. I volunteered." He dug deep for a smile, but it eluded him. "Besides, I need to take your statement and I'd rather do that somewhere more comfortable than here or in an ER—and after we both clock a few hours of sleep. Deal?"

The shimmer in her eyes intensified. "Thank you."

He brushed a few tangled wisps of hair off her forehead. "My pleasure."

"If that's the decision, let me clean you up so you can get on your way." The paramedic went to work.

Jack left her in his care while he stepped away to call Sarge with an update on both the situation in the warehouse and his plans for the remainder of the evening. Well, some of his plans, anyway. The taking the statement part, not the staying with Lindsey overnight part.

"That'll work. I've tapped Cate to assist at the scene." As Sarge spoke, she came through the door.

Jack lifted a hand in greeting, and she veered his direction. "She just arrived."

"Fill her in and get out of there."

"You don't have to twist my arm. I'll touch base with you again in the morning."

As he ended the call, Cate joined him. "I hear the Robertson case has been solved."

"Yeah." He gave her a rapid-fire briefing. "CSU should be here soon."

"I figured that. Officers are securing the perimeter." She regarded Lindsey. "Tough night for her."

"Beyond tough. Closer to fatal. If we'd been even a few minutes later ..." His voice roughened at the thought of how close he'd come to losing her.

Cate continued to regard Lindsey, her mouth set in a grim line. "I know what that's like."

Yeah, she did, thanks to her own near-death experience at the hands of a ruthless killer during her undercover days.

He swallowed. "And that's on top of all the other trauma she's had."

"I hear you. Take her home. I've got this covered."

"Thanks."

He didn't linger to chat with Cate. Instead, he returned to Lindsey's side.

The paramedic added a final piece of tape to the bandage around one of her wrists and stood. "She's all yours."

That had a nice ring to it on this otherwise harrowing night.

"Ready to go?" He held out his hand.

Weariness etched her features as she grasped his fingers. "More than."

As he gave her a gentle assist up, she shivered.

No wonder.

The sweater she was wearing didn't provide near sufficient warmth in the damp, dank structure.

He should have noticed that sooner.

In one quick movement, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

"I can't take this." Her protest was halfhearted at best as she snuggled into the warmth. "You'll get cold."

"I'll be fine as far as the car. And I'll crank up the heat when we get there. Let's go." He slid his arm around her and led her out of the building, into the strobing lights piercing the darkness from multiple cruisers. After tucking her into the front seat of his car, he circled around to the driver's side.

As he slid behind the wheel, she shifted toward him. "How in the world did you find me?"

"Why don't I give you the short version tonight and fill in all the details tomorrow?" He turned on the engine and put the car in gear.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn. "I'll settle for that."

Somehow he managed to condense the nerve-wracking last few hours into a handful of sentences as he drove away from what could have been another murder scene.

Would have been if he'd arrived a handful of minutes later.

The mere thought of tonight's other possible outcome sent a chill coursing through him that had nothing to do with the cold night air.

When he finished, she expelled a long, slow breath. "It sounds like fate was on our side."

"Or a higher power."

"I like your take better." She let her head drop back against the seat. "Is it all right if I close my eyes for a few minutes?"

"You have not only my permission but my encouragement."

Silence fell in the car save for the hum of tires on the pavement, and within five minutes she'd fallen into a deep sleep.

No wonder.

She had to be exhausted physically and emotionally.

So once he got her home, he'd hustle her to bed, rack out on her couch while she slept, and keep one ear tuned throughout the night in case her real-life nightmare came back to haunt her dreams and she needed the comfort of a caring hug.