“I’m good.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning. Let me know if there’s any change. We have no witnesses, except that girl.”
Black walked off and Riley sipped the coffee, then put it on the low table next to him. He wasn’t sleepy, his shift had technically just started a couple of hours ago, and he had plenty of energy. His mom didn’t understand the allure of the swing shift, but for Riley it was great. He’d always been a night person, and now he had an excuse to sleep until noon.
An orderly approached and ignored Riley, making a move to open the door.
Riley blocked him. “You’re not authorized to enter this room.”
“Sure I am,” he said, showing his name badge.
“You’re not on the list.”
“I’m just changing bedpans.”
Riley didn’t budge.
Martinez swore. “Look, my boss is gonna get on my ass if I don’t get this done. I don’t know why I’m not on your friggin’ list. Let’s go talk to him, fix this.”
Riley didn’t like the way Martinez’s eyes darted back and forth. He squinted at Riley with dark mousy eyes. Riley glanced at the photo on the name badge again and realized this man wasn’t Jose Martinez. Same general look and race, but two different people.
“Let’s call him,” Riley said, motioning to the house phone. “What’s his name?” He needed the fake orderly to believe he was playing along, to get him away from Ann’s door. As casually as he could, he tapped a code into his radio with his badge number and “officer needs assistance” signal. He hoped Black was still in the building with his radio on.
The imposter nodded, moved toward the phone, then started running down the hall.
“Shit!” Riley started down the hall, then stopped. He couldn’t leave Ann, and the fake orderly was acting overtly suspicious. A decoy, Riley realized, to get him away from the door.
He whirled around and saw a tall, lean, blond Caucasian male with his hand on Ann’s door. Where had he come from so quickly?
Riley commanded, “Don’t move.”
The man didn’t stop and in three long strides Riley was in a position to restrain him. The man pivoted and backed into Ann’s room. He had a scalpel in his right hand, and something Riley couldn’t see in his left.
“Security!” Riley yelled at the top of his lungs and saw a nurse scurry toward a phone.
Riley couldn’t let him near Ann. He grabbed his Taser, but the suspect kicked his wrist. Riley held on to the Taser, but his arm went straight up, and his attacker lunged with the scalpel aimed at Riley’s neck as if it were an ice pick.
Riley faked right, then pivoted left toward Ann. The suspect was fooled by the move, but recovered quickly and tackled Riley, plunging the scalpel high in his thigh. Riley bit back a scream as the sharp blade was pulled several inches up his leg. He Tasered the bastard in the chest, but the darts bounced off. He had a fucking vest on!
Already the perp was scrambling up and moving fast toward the unconscious girl. Riley grabbed his legs and pulled him down. Then saw what the attacker had in his left hand: a syringe. If that syringe had pricked him or Ann, Riley was certain they’d be dead.
Sweating, his vision blurry and fading, blood flowing from his leg, Riley grabbed the killer’s left wrist and slammed it hard against the floor. Again. Again. The perp said nothing, but he grunted in pain and frustration. Riley didn’t see the scalpel coming toward his head.
There was commotion behind him, then a sharp pain in his cheek, and John Black shouted, “Knight!” Riley sensed more than saw John grab the suspect’s right hand and slam it against the floor.
“The syringe!” he tried to shout, his words slurred.
Black’s hands reached over and clasped the perp’s wrist, squeezing, and Riley heard bones crack and the bastard beneath him scream in pain.
“I got him,” Black said.
Riley rolled away and lay there, barely registering two cops cuffing the blond man and pulling him out of Ann’s room.
“Riley,” Black said. “Help’s on the way.”
“Should be,” Riley said, seeing nothing but gray. “I’m in a damn hospital.”
Black ripped Riley’s pants away, grabbed a blanket from the foot of Ann’s bed, and applied pressure. “I got your radio signal,” he said.
“It happened so fast.” Riley was quickly fading. “I’m okay.”
“You damn well better be. Your sister scares the hell out of me.”
“Call her.”
A doctor and three nurses came in. Black said, “I’m staying with the girl. Get him stable. I need to talk to him ASAP.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dean could tell Sonia’s decision to bring him fully on board had been difficult, but it was the right choice. If they were going to take down Xavier Jones, she had to trust him without reservation. There was no middle ground.
She said, “I set up layers of security measures to protect Vega. It’s not even easy for me to talk to him quickly without jeopardizing him.”
“What’s he doing? Trying to find files or photo graphs-”
She shook her head. “I need to catch Jones red-handed. I need a location-to observe an exchange of illegal immigrants for money. Hell, I’d get him on smuggling aliens into the country if I could, but he doesn’t get his hands dirty. What he
“Is that why you were at Jones’s house last night?”
“Not exactly.”
“Exactly what then?”
Sonia sat down again and rubbed the back of her neck. Dean resisted the urge to massage her shoulders. She was uncomfortable and Dean wanted to make her feel better. He knew how it felt to have a case grab you and tighten its grip until every muscle in your body was pulled taut. Sonia looked like the weight of the world rested on her pretty shoulders.
“Last week I had an untraceable email about a boy who had been held captive at Jones’s house and escaped. I was given the general area where he’d be, and after searching for a couple hours with my brother, a Sac P.D. cop, we found him. Andres Zamora. I thought Vega had given me the tip. Andres speaks little English, but I’m fluent in Spanish. The kid is ten. He was abducted from Argentina two weeks ago, along with his thirteen-year-old sister, Maya. Their mother and older brother were murdered when they tried to stop the abduction.”
“Jones?”
“No. I showed Andres his picture and Andres had never seen him before.”
“Then how did he end up at Jones’s house? How did he know it was Jones’s house?”
“He didn’t. My anonymous informant did. I asked Vega about it when I could set up a call the day after, but he claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about-he knew the kid had escaped, but said he hadn’t sent the message. I didn’t believe him. No one else on Jones’s staff would have turned and known to call
