No One Heard Her Scream

'Go ahead and have your fun, you cocky son of a bitch!' He leaned into the squad car, and whispered, 'If Galvan is dead, so are you. And I don't have to pull the trigger. His father will get to your ass even if I can't touch you. I'll personally deliver my version of the case details to Rivera.'

The smugness left Cavanaugh's face as fear slithered under the surface of his cool veneer. And Draper was only getting started.

'But there's one thing I can control. The system will be taking care of your room and board for a long time, but I'm personally goin' to see to your accommodations. Some lifer named Bruno will be saliva-tin' over your lily-white ass. Whoever said size didn't matter never met Bruno.' Draper leaned closer, venom in his voice. 'Every time he bends you over, think of me. 'Cause I'll be the one sticking it to you. In this lifetime, it's only a fraction of what you owe those girls.'

To the cop behind the wheel, he said, 'Get him out of my sight.' Draper slammed the door on Cava-naugh, his heart hammering and stoked by red-hot anger as the patrol cars drove away.

He pictured Diego dead, and Draper's gut snarled. He couldn't catch his breath, his frustration and anxiety mounting. When he turned around, Santiago opened his mouth to say something, but Draper didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to be consoled. And he sure as hell didn't want to be reminded of his decision to delay the rescue mission.

He walked back toward the old building . . . and waited. With a renewed fixation, Mike Draper searched the faces of everyone coming and going out of the warehouse.

But a man with a familiar gait caught his eye. He carried a teenage girl in his arms. And a woman walked alongside him. Draper couldn't confirm their identities for sure—something blurred his eyes—but he knew enough to call Santiago over.

'Hey, Arturo. Now I've got something you ought to see.'

The lieutenant rushed over, his eyes following where Draper pointed. The man squinted into the distance until he recognized his detective, Rebecca Montgomery. Then his face lit up like a friggin' Christmas tree.

When he looked back at Draper, the lieutenant did a double take and nudged him with a shoulder. 'Allergies. My eyes water this time of year, too. Mainly when I go all gooey inside like a marshmal-low. And with my skin color ... I look like damned S'mores.'

Draper rolled his eyes and wiped a hand over his face, glaring at the man. 'You say anything about this, and I swear . . .'

'Noooo. These lips are sealed.' With a raised eyebrow, Santiago added, 'Who would believe me anyway?'

'Damned straight.'

Becca squinted into the floodlights, holding up a hand to shield her eyes. With cops and med techs rushing everywhere, she zeroed in on the ambulance units and headed for them.

When she stepped out of the darkness and into the light, reality hit hard. She was a changed woman. Nothing would be the same again. And even though her body was racked with pain, her heart soared as she walked beside Diego, who held Danielle in his arms. Second chances had that kind of effect on a woman. She drew in a deep breath, remembering how she had felt hours before—convinced none of them would make it out alive. She'd also learned a thing or two about hope.

Becca followed Diego to an ambulance. He carried her sister as if she were made of glass. And he kept whispering reassurances in Dani's ear. Becca only caught a few. His Hispanic accent sounded like a lovely melody that lingered in your heart long after it stopped playing.

'It's over. And you're safe, honey. Such a brave girl,' he murmured. 'Rebecca never gave up on you, Danielle. She never lost hope of finding you.'

'Momma?' she whimpered, a tiny voice meant only for him. Dani clung to his neck, burrowing into his chest to hide her face from all the noise and commotion. He lowered his head to hers and held her close.

'Momma will see you at the hospital,' he promised. 'Your sister and I will pick her up on our way over, sweet girl.'

When they got to the ambulance, Diego lowered Danielle onto a gurney and covered her with warm blankets head to toe. EMTs wanted to step in right away, but he waved them off to give Becca a moment with her sister.

Diego managed a smile when he looked over his shoulder at her, his face battered and bruised under the lights. Becca mouthed the words, 'Thank you', knowing it would never be enough. She cradled Dani's face in her hands and kissed her forehead, drinking in the feel and smell of her skin.

'I'm gonna take care of you for a while, little sister. For as long as you let me,' she whispered. Danielle nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek as she clutched her hand.

Becca turned to the lieutenant, squeezing his arm in gratitude. And as tears filled her eyes, she held her chin high and looked at Mike Draper.

'Mr. Draper? I'd like you to meet a survivor. Danielle Montgomery. My sister.'

CHAPTER19

Santa Rosa Hospital

The Next Morning, 6:30 a.m.

Becca jolted awake—her heart pumping adrenaline through her system—the crudest of wake-up calls. Danielle's hospital room came into focus, along with the cramped chair she had fallen asleep in, but little else. Caught in the twilight between dreams and rational thought, her brain replayed what happened, when she had killed for the first time. She shut her eyes tight and steadied her breathing, but the hospital room faded from her senses. And Becca couldn't stop her mind from summoning the dark account of last night.

Drifting through murky shadows, she was alone again in the dark. Only the steady thud of her heart kept her company. Her memory of the stale oppressive air in the garage overpowered the medicinal hospital odor, merging time and place as if she were back there . . . facing Brogan.

It had all happened so fast at the time. But now, it replayed over and over in gut-wrenching slow motion. Every detail etched into her brain and branded her memory with crippling permanence. Becca saw his face again. She even smelled him.

The nine-millimeter Glock kicked in her hands, twice. Two rounds, center mass. Even now, she felt it. Her fingers tingled, and numbness radiated through her arms. Shots rang out, and the eerie echo punished her eardrums with a nasty piercing ring.

After the bullets hit his chest, Brogan staggered back and dropped to his knees, his chin sagging to his chest. In a last-ditch effort, he raised his head and glared at her, the old fire of contempt still burning in his eyes. She held her breath, waiting for him to take his last gasp. Fear gripped her heart like an icy fist, as if he'd get up one more time and finish the job he had started.

But eventually, his face went slack, and the flicker of life died in his eyes. And so had Matt Brogan. He slumped to the floor, his skull cracking on the cement with a sickening thud. For a long time, she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her eyes burned. She couldn't close them. Rooted in place, Becca watched the blood spread across his chest and seep onto the cement in a dark thick pool. Diego rushed to her side, and she had been vaguely aware of his arms around her, but she couldn't take her eyes off . . . him.

Now, Becca held back tears and forced the nightmare from her mind. She pressed cold, trembling hands to her face as if she could wipe it all away. The trauma of her close call with death had been the culmination of an exhausting siege to her psyche that had started with Danielle's abduction. She understood the consequences of the ordeal, but living through it was another story.

A faint sound poked at the edges of her awareness. And a light pierced the dark. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The hospital room came back into focus. And she heard it again.

'Are you okay?' A whisper.

She turned toward the hospital bed and saw her sister.

'Becca. You okay?' Dani asked again.

She got up from her chair and stretched her back, walking toward the bed with a show of nonchalance she