“Pain is good. It means you’re still alive.”
“That’s a relief.” He trembled, his breathing ragged and quick. “I’m freezing.”
The floor beneath them was cold to the touch, but Ellie knew it wasn’t just the chill that was making Gabe cold. He was in danger of going into shock. “I need you to keep talking. Stay with me, okay?”
Gabe nodded, grimacing as he met her gaze. “He’s hurt bad.”
“Powell? He’ll be lucky if he lives long enough to make it to the hospital.”
Gabe took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat, working through what she knew from experience was agony. Even a survivable gunshot wound was still taking a bullet. “Not Powell.”
“Oh.” Her hand went to her gun, but he shook his head.
“He’s long gone by now. I caught a glimpse of him running away from the warehouse when I pulled up. His back was to me, but he was moving slow and hunched over.”
“Did he leave on foot? I didn’t see a vehicle.” The sirens were so loud now they filled the hollow warehouse.
“Took Ernest’s. It was parked on the other side of the building. You couldn’t see it coming through the main entrance. There’s a narrow road that winds around until it reaches the highway.”
“Ernest?”
“The master’s first assistant.” He tipped his chin in Powell’s direction. “Him.”
Ellie’s lips went slack as she shook her head, her fingernails digging into her palm. And then she saw it in her mind, the precinct shrink’s name stamped on his door.
Dr. E. Phillip Powell.
She shook her head. “All the hours I spent talking to him about my kidnapping, and I never suspected.”
Her hand went to her mouth as a memory surfaced. Not a distant, fragmented moment buried for the past fifteen years. I should’ve known, she thought angrily. She’d heard Powell’s voice in an early hypnosis session, and she’d let him convince her it was a false memory. In truth, it hadn’t been Powell who had spoken the words she’d heard so clearly in her mind, but her subconscious had been trying to warn her, and she’d ignored it. He’d redirected her so effortlessly that she hadn’t once suspected him.
Gabe licked his lips, clearing his throat again. “The ambulance is close now, right? I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.” Eyelids fluttering closed as if to prove his point, he started to lose consciousness but fought and opened his eyes.
“They’re here, but they’ll have to wait for an officer to clear the scene before they come in.”
On cue, a shout came from outside the door. “Charleston PD! Is anyone inside?” It was Chief Johnson.
“It’s clear!” As soon as Ellie said the words, Chief Johnson came in through the door, followed by a half a dozen officers.
Johnson stopped, eyes scanning, weapon lowering slightly as the scene before him came into view. “God almighty, what happened here?”
“A man they call the master kidnapped Jillian to lure me here. I was able to gain the upper hand, then Powell helped me untie Jillian.” She didn’t know what to say about Powell. How did she explain that someone they’d depended on for so long was actually working with the enemy?
Chief Johnson’s eyes darted from Ellie to Powell and back again. “Why is Phillip here?”
She blinked, half in shock, her mind wanting to disbelieve what she knew had just happened. “He said you knew he was here.”
“No. Why would I send him? He’s the department shrink, not an officer.”
“He said he talked to you about my therapy sessions and the anniversary coming up. He said you both agreed that I was in danger. Powell even said you had my phone and Jillian’s on trace.”
“That’s not true.”
Ellie nodded, turning toward Powell as the chief knelt on the floor, pressing the towel against the wound that had all but stopped oozing blood. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. He had me fooled all the way until the moment I saw the scar on his chest.” She paused and let out a breath, her hands trembling.
“Scar?” Johnson shouted for the EMS, and they came running in, swarming both Powell and Gabe as he barked orders to his officers.
Ellie stood, her knees shaking. “On his chest, where I stabbed him with a pair of scissors when I was fifteen.”
Chief Johnson’s eyes widened. “Kline, are you saying—”
“He’s dirty,” Ellie confirmed. “But he came into the department that way.”
Chief Johnson’s eyes flashed with anger. Glancing around the room, he moved closer and lowered his voice. “We’ll talk about that more later, okay?”
Ellie kept her face passive as she nodded. Chief Johnson believed her without question, and after everything she’d been through, it was a relief to have someone in her corner. Especially someone with as much power at Charleston PD as the chief of police.
“Was Powell unarmed when you shot him?”
“I didn’t shoot him.”
Chief Johnson tilted his head, gaze narrowing on Gabe. “Who shot him?”
“This guy.” She gestured to Gabe, whose face was slack, eyes heavy, as he fought to stay awake while the paramedics prepared him for transport. “Powell was helping me with Jillian, and I had no idea I was in danger. Gabe came out of nowhere and took him out before he could hurt Jillian or me.”
Johnson’s gaze stayed on Gabe. “Who shot him?”
“I did.”
Johnson blew out a quick breath and closed his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took several slow, deep breaths before he spoke again. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You didn’t shoot Powell, and you shot the man who tried to save you?”
“That’s the simplified version, I guess.”
The chief scoffed. “There’s nothing simple about you, Kline.”
The paramedics working on Powell already had him on a stretcher. One pulled the stretcher toward the exit while the second continued CPR.
Johnson waved to catch their attention as they passed. “How is he?”
The medic steering the gurney checked Powell’s neck for a pulse, jaw
