Chapter 13
Early Saturday Morning
“So,where the hell did he go?” Griff asked. Beside him, Elaine’s mouth was tight with worry. They’d risen a short while ago, but when the scent of Blue Mountain coffee did not rouse Patrick from his room, they’d gone to his room and found it empty.
“Can’t tell you that.” BP’s security guard’s expression on the screen was somber. “All I know is Mr. Danton left the building a little after midnight and he looked like he was in a hurry. Since it’s seven o’clock, and he’s not returned, I thought you needed to know.”
Griff muttered an oath but thanked the man and shut off the office computer. “Crap,” he said. “What the hell was he thinking going off like that?”
“If Hank needed him, he would have called you too,” Elaine pointed out. “So, it couldn’t have been something regarding another BP mission, would it?”
“Unlikely,” Griff agreed. “Only the biggest freakin’ emergency in the world would have Hank pull Patrick out to go somewhere else. We’ve got enough brothers to handle whatever Hank needs.”
“Do you think we should call Hank-”
A siren’s howl stopped Elaine’s question. It grew closer and closer until its howl vibrated through the floors with a painful, ear-splitting frequency as if it had lodged under the building. They dashed to the window to peer outside, but there was nothing but still the wailing continued.
“What’s down there?” Elaine shouted.
“Parking garage,” Griff answered, his shout equally loud. “Under the building, behind the gym, with an entrance to the back street.”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Elaine scolded. “I thought you said, ‘no secrets.’”
And then there was silence. They waited, gazes locked and then came the click of the suite’s front door opening and Patrick entered, a plaid shirt draped around his shoulders and carrying his heavy jacket. Seeing them in the office doorway, he said, “I hope there’s coffee made, even if it’s warmed up Blue Mountain from last night. ‘Cause let me tell you, it would be better than that swill they serve at the ER.”
“Holy shit,” Griff breathed out as he stared at Patrick’s bruised face and the bandage wrapped around his upper left arm. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Let’s say coming to a lady’s rescue is not always the best of ideas.” Patrick limped to the sofa, tossed the flannel shirt he carried aside and lowered himself as Elaine headed for the kitchen. “So much for my being a Southern gentleman. But if you think I look bad, you should see the other two guys.”
Elaine returned with his oversize mug, gave it to him and put the coffee press on the side table. “We only made it a half hour ago,” she said. “Splash of milk, no sugar, right?”
“Yes, thank you.” He took a long sip, closed his eyes and sat back. “I don’t care how much this stuff costs, it’s worth every single penny,” he said reverently. “You can transfuse me with it any time.”
“Well, when you come out of your caffeine induced Nirvana, will you tell us what the hell happened?” Griff demanded.
Patrick squinted at them while he took another sip. “Deidre–”
“The hostess at Sapphire’s ?” Elaine interrupted.
“That’s the one,” Patrick agreed. “I gave her my card with the burner number yesterday, just in case. She looked a bit nervous after Big Daddy arrived, but I didn’t have time to ask her anything more than what she’d already told me. My phone goes off at 11:45 and it’s her, saying her bartender boyfriend had beat her and she needed help. So, like a tame fool, I went.”
“You’re an idiot,” Griff accused.
“Guilty as charged,” Patrick agreed. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. Found her waiting at Krutch Park, looking like a mess. But before we could head back to the car, the boyfriend and a pal joined us. Deidre got spooked and ran off, but the boys and I had a little not so friendly discussion about me flirting with her.”
“And they attacked you?” Elaine asked, then hastily added, “Sorry. Dumb question.”
“They did,” Patrick said ruefully. “Though I would claim the pal cheated as he had a knife with him. What’s happened to the gentlemanly art of fisticuffs?”
“Gentlemanly?” Elaine broke in again. “Sounds like a good old-fashioned brawl to me.”
“Hush, Elaine,” Griff scolded and blushing, she nodded.
“And before you ask, no, I didn’t have my revolver,” Patrick continued. “Found a cab up at the corner and went ‘cause I didn’t want to stop and park. As you can see, they got in a couple of good blows, including some knife work to my non-dominant arm. But then all those years of martial arts training kicked in and I took them both out. I guess Deidre had the sense to call the police after she left because they showed up within minutes.”
“Last dumb question,” Elaine said. “They took you to the ER, right?”
Patrick huffed out a laugh, and then groaned. “Damn, that hurts,” he groaned. “Please don’t be funny again, Elaine. I wouldn’t let them give me any painkillers.”
“But how the hell did you get in and out of the ER so fast?” Griff demanded. “Normally on Friday nights, they’re so backed up with people who’ve been in fights-unless it’s life threatening-have to wait for twelve or more hours just to be seen.”
“We can thank Grant Miller for that,” Patrick gasped. “He was there with one of his men who was wounded in that drug bust, and I think he might have fibbed to the attending doctor and told him I was part of the operation. Ten stitches to my arm, but my two new besties will have trouble shaving or eating for a while. ER doc said I should rest for twenty-four hours but still move slowly-which won’t be a problem-after that. Bruised ribs can make it hard to breathe easily.”
Griff stared at his colleague. “Did an ambulance bring you here?” At Patrick’s nod, he asked, “How did you manage that?”
“Again, thanks to Grant Miller,” Patrick said. “Since we weren’t sure if Big Daddy sent the attackers or they did it on their own, Miller arranged for me to be transported here by the local EMS. He told the drivers I was an undercover cop with a price on my head, and the bad guys might be coming to the ER looking for me. They loved helping me get away. Bless their little hearts, they both looked like they might be all of twenty-one, but at that point, I just wanted to get out of there so I could have a decent cup of coffee.”
“If Big Daddy has figured out who you–or we–are, Grant letting you use the ambulance might keep him from learning where we are,” Elaine offered.
Grant again.Griff kicked himself mentally at his irritation for her obvious friendship with Miller “Is his man alright?” he asked Patrick.
“Flesh wound, so they were going to send him home, and the mission was successful.” Patrick drained his cup, refilled it and stood. “Now if you two will excuse me, I’m going to take a very warm bath and go to bed. Call me if you do anything fun.”
He limped toward the hall. A minute later they heard the door to his room close. After a moment, Elaine looked at him. “Do you think Deidre set him up?” she asked. “Or that her boyfriend really beat her, and she got scared when he and his buddy showed up?”
Griff rubbed his temples. “Hard to say,” he said at last. “Patrick, if anything, is hyper-cautious and never does anything without thinking it through. But he’s got this thing about someone hurting women. Really pisses him off. And her boyfriend? Some men are like that, you know. Don’t want anyone talking, much less flirting with their woman.”
“I’ve met men like that.” Elaine’s brows drew together. “Like Big Daddy, they see women as their property. Things, not people and they think they can do anything they please to them, emotionally and physically, even kill them and it’s nobody’s damn business.”
Her quiet, clipped tone suggested an old, unresolved anger, and Griff realized just how loving, how dedicated this woman was to helping those who had no one else. Recalling her description of her first days of working with Operation Phoenix, he said, “You’re thinking of your client who was murdered by her husband while waiting for Operation Phoenix to arrive. The one whose husband then killed himself.”
Her eyes met his concerned scrutiny and held it. Then a calm light glittered in their depths, and he relaxed. She smiled and covered his hand with hers.
“Yes,” she said. “Most men I’ve known-personally and professionally–would never think or act like that and would probably do what Patrick did. But it still infuriates me when I run across the ones who do think they can treat women anyway they want. They’re as bad as the traffickers who exploit and hurt children.”
“Amen to that,” Griff agreed. And then, needing to know, he asked, “How long have you worked with Grant Miller?”
“Years,” she said. “He’s helped transport women for Operation Phoenix and gone with me to see clients in some pretty rough neighborhoods. The transported women always felt safe, knowing a police officer is helping get them to safety. And his fiancée is super supportive.”
“He’s engaged?” A wave of relief hit Griff, followed by one of accusing guilt. Miller was a good cop, had the respect of his fellows and had helped solve BP’s last case in Knoxville. Griff wasn’t in a relationship with Elaine Prescott and he sure as hell didn’t have the right to be jealous of hers with Grant Miller.
“Yeah, she’s in medical school at Meharry Medical College in Nashville,” Elaine said. “She graduates next spring. Sister Bernie is-was-hoping she might work at the Wellness Clinic.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Griff agreed, keeping his expression neutral. “Now, what do you say to working out before breakfast? I’ve missed some PT sessions, but I’ve memorized the exercises the therapist and I do. I don’t want to get behind in them, because they help.”
“I like that idea” Elaine agreed. “I noticed all kinds of free weights when we were down there and an hour of lifting always puts me in a good mood.”
“And after that, we can heat up last night’s dinner,” Griff suggested. “Will that suit?”
“I love leftover stir-fry for breakfast,” Elaine declared. “Don’t you?”
“Almost as much as left-over pizza,” Griff laughed. “Even more if eaten in good company.”
Her blush set the off alarm bells he’d been fighting since yesterday. Mac, he knew, had fallen in love with Anne almost from the moment they met. Parker too, with his Bronwen. Neither of his BP brothers had expected it. But there it was.
And Griff was raised in a family of die-hard romantics, watching the love between his parents, who after years of marriage, still acted like a courting couple. Respect, humor, and devotion to each other and their children ruled their lives.
And somehow, he could see Elaine beside him in his future.
But now was not the time to think past the mission. “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Elaine’s phone trilled, and glancing at the screen, she said, “It’s Grant Miller. Can up believe the man is still up? She accepted and hit the speaker. “Hey, why aren’t you in bed? You’ve been up all night. Are you alright?”
Yeah, but you need to come downtown. Like right away.”
“Lord help, not another body to identify?” Griff groaned.
“Not quite,” Miler answered. “We’ve arrested Chelsea’s old boyfriend, Martin Driscoll.”
“On what charges” Elaine gasped.
Miller’s answer was grim. “Solicitation. He’s hooking.”