Chapter 23
Cassie
My head pounds with panic as I stare down at my hands, covered with blood—Lincoln’s blood. I look between him and Miles. I can’t seem to think straight. Lincoln’s been shot. I’ve never actually seen anyone get shot before. On set, it was always fake blood and prop weapons—nothing like what’s happening in front of me.
“It’s going to be all right,” he mumbles.
Lincoln looks at me as if he truly believes it. However, it couldn’t be further from the truth. We’re in the middle of nowhere, with no one else in sight. He’s lost a lot of blood, and I can’t trust transporting Miles without fearing he may try to overpower me. I pull out my phone while wiping my hands across my shirt. My fingers shake as I call 911. A thousand scenarios race through my head, each worse than the last.
“911,” a lady dispatcher answers the phone.
“Hi, my friend has been shot.” I frantically give her directions to where we’re at while trying to keep an eye on both Lincoln and Miles.
“The police and ambulance are on their way. Hold tight and keep pressure on your friend’s wound.”
I hang up, pushing the phone back into my pocket. I take off the ugly T-shirt I’ve been wearing since the squatter house and press it against Lincoln’s wound, kneeling beside him. He looks terrible like he might slip away at any moment. His face is ashen, and his lips have a blue tinge.
“You got your way with that shirt,” Lincoln says with a weak smirk. “Blood doesn’t exactly wash out.” He sounds like he’s drunk, and it unnerves me.
I laugh, even though I feel like doing anything else but laughing. “Are you going to be able to hang on until the ambulance gets here?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“When did you figure out that it might have been Miles?” I was fairly certain the robbery hadn’t been Phineas from the start. However, I hadn’t suspected Miles of all people.
“I can’t say I suspected him, necessarily. But I did suspect someone in that house was most likely responsible, someone in Mrs. Harper’s inner circle. She was so quick to blame the robbery on Phineas, and once the homeless man at the squatter house mentioned wealthy people being out of touch, it made sense someone from her circle did it.” He was right. It did make sense that it had been someone on the inside.
“How are you feeling?” I search his face, unable to see how bad his injuries truly are. The bleeding has slowed, but that doesn’t mean much, seeing as he’s already lost so much blood. I glance at the puddle around his leg and shudder.
“I’ve never felt better.”
I gently slap his arm. “This is no time to be sarcastic. You could die.”
My voice shakes as I say the words. I may be angry at him for lying and refusing to tell me about what happened between him and Phineas and everything else he’s hiding from me. That doesn’t mean I want to see him hurt or dead.
He reaches his hand out and takes mine before leaning his head back against the station wagon and closing his eyes. “Don’t worry, Cassie. They’ll be here soon.”
I nod and listen for all I’m worth for the sirens. Seconds stretch into minutes, and it feels like forever before I hear them and see the flashing lights coming down the road to us.
“Lincoln, they’re here.” I squeeze his hand, but there is no response. “Lincoln?” Putting my hand on his face, I shake him gently. “Lincoln, wake up.” Panic rises in my throat.
“Told you there would be consequences,” Miles taunts. “I guess you should have listened to me.”
The police and the ambulance pull up, and commotion surrounds us. I can’t take my eyes off Lincoln for fear that when I look back, he’ll be dead. Miles continues his comments, grating on my nerves, but I am determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reply.
The paramedics put Lincoln on a stretcher and take him to the ambulance, pushing him into the back. I follow, and thankfully, they don’t say anything as I climb up and sit beside him, taking his hand back in mine. It’s limp and unmoving, sending a terrifying cold feeling through my heart.
I was never good at losing people, like when Mom walked out or my dad died. The one person I thought I could never possibly lose was Lincoln.
He has always been such a strong presence in my life. He knew what to do in difficult situations; he was always there for my dad and me. Life without him was unimaginable. In my earlier teen years, he seemed bigger than life itself and almost invincible, but the gunshot shattered that vision. The paramedics work on his leg as the ambulance races down the street. Tears stream down my face as we go. I can’t seem to hold them back. I remember every time that Lincoln helped me feel better.
The way he offered himself in exchange for Miles letting me go was impressive.
He is a good guy at heart, even though he pretends not to care and acts like he is above the whole relationship thing. I press the fingers from my free hand to my lips, remembering our kiss at the hospital. If there had been a chance for something real to come of it, I would have risked everything: my disapproval of myself and the potential disapproval of my dad, who is no longer here to judge everything.
Lincoln is not that sort of guy, the kind of guy who would seriously consider me. He most likely saw me as the immature young lady I used to be and a pretty face he seized a moment with. Squeezing his hand tight, I wipe away the rest of my tears.
“You’re going to be all right. I know you will be.” The ambulance stops in front of the hospital, and the paramedics rush him inside.
“Stay in the waiting room, ma’am. Someone will be out shortly to tell you how he is.” One of the paramedics puts a kind hand on my shoulder before rushing after his partner as they wheel an unconscious Lincoln down the hall.
When we visited Cheryl earlier that day, he seemed so uncomfortable in the hospital. I wonder if maybe he had a bad experience in one before. I remember the baseball story he shared while trying to calm Miles. It was such a sad story about a little boy craving his father’s love. My heart breaks for him. He never really spoke of his family or his parents. Maybe that was why he seemed to worship the ground my dad walked on when he was his partner. It always seemed like he loved my dad as much as I did. I make a mental note that it was something else I’ll have to ask Lincoln about when he gets better.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Quinn. She answers on the third ring.
“Cassie, just the person I wanted to talk to! I found something else about Rosie. Apparently, Gary’s wife is her best friend?—”
“Quinn, Lincoln’s been shot.” My voice shakes, and I burst into fresh tears.
“What?” I hear her fumbling around as she peppers me with questions. “What happened? Is he all right? Where are you?”
“We’re at the hospital. I don’t know if he’ll be all right, Quinn. They said they have to operate and do a transfusion. He lost a lot of blood.” Saying it out loud makes it more real than I ever imagined.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay, I’ll see you when you get here.” I hang up, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that I may lose everything. The waiting room is full of people waiting to hear about loved ones. I can see my own pain reflected in their faces. It’s funny how a person can walk by a hospital or an emergency room when they’re in good health and forget what a terrible position it is to wait to see if someone will survive. Lincoln has to be okay. I refuse to believe otherwise.
Link
The first thing I notice when I wake up is the pain. It surrounds me like a heavy cloud, seeping into every part of my body. I look down and find my leg bandaged. I never imagined getting shot would hurt so badly.
The door opens, and the nurse steps in. She smiles in my direction as she adjusts my IV. “Good. You’re awake. Your friends in the waiting room are going to be relieved. They’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Could you bring them in?” The terrified look on Cassie’s face comes to mind. I want her to know I’m all right.
“Sure, I’ll send them right now.” After she leaves, I take a moment to look around the room. It’s like a hotel room, only smaller and feels more sterile. Beside my hospital bed is a simple couch along one wall. On the other side is a sink and a set of cabinets. Then, a small door leads into the bathroom. It reminds me of the room I stayed in as a teen when I woke up entirely alone, soon to discover that was my new reality.
The door swings open, and my two favorite people step in: Quinn and Cassie. Quinn rushes over to me, throwing her arms around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I thought you’d died on me.”
“I didn’t realize you cared about me that much.” My arms tighten around her for a second before she pulls back. Quinn looks at me, then smacks my arm playfully. “What were you thinking? Cassie told me everything. You should’ve done what he wanted until you could get ahold of the police. You got some kind of death wish?”
“It turned out fine in the end, didn’t it?” I say to Cassie, who’s been unusually quiet, just staring at me as if she’s evaluating how to approach things.
My comment seems to shake her into action. She steps forward, frustration blooming on her face. “You call this turning out fine? I watched you almost bleed out in the street. There had to have been a better way to handle that, but of course, you had to try to do it on your own.”
“Oh, come on. You’re going to yell at the guy who was shot?”
Her shoulders slump slightly, and she comes closer, touching my arm reluctantly. I can’t figure out if it’s because she doesn’t want to be near me or if she’s afraid to because of how we reacted to one another in the hospital hallway only hours ago. “I’ll save the lectures for when you’re better, and it’s a fair fight. Okay?”
“Save the lectures. You’re not going back to the city?”
My emotions war with one another in my chest. Of course, I don’t want her to go, but is it safe for her to stay? Things with Phineas are coming to a boiling point. I won’t be able to hold him off any longer. However, I learned one thing from almost dying: I don’t want to put off things any longer than necessary. One of those things was having Cassie in my life and the life her father would’ve wanted for her.
“I’m going back to the city, eventually. I haven’t figured out who destroyed my career, so it’s not like anything is waiting for me there. Besides, you’re gonna need some help with the bureau.”
“You don’t think I can handle it?” Raising my eyebrows, a smirk forms on my face.
“I know you think you can handle it, just like you thought you could handle Miles.” Cassie crosses her arms over her chest.
“I’m glad to see you back.” Quinn looks between us, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
“How does it feel to be on the team?” I look at Cassie pointedly and laugh at her glare. Quinn isn’t the only one happy to be back at it. There was a moment there when I thought my life was over. Ironically, I was most sad about missing out on working with Cassie.
“It doesn’t feel as awful as I thought it would.” Cassie smiles. “You know, I may be better at this than you. After all, I won both bets.”
“Well, it seems you’re forfeiting your reward on the second one.” Watching her expression carefully, I think of what she won with the first bet and groan.
“That’s right.” She smiles triumphantly. “I may be deciding to postpone my return home, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting off the hook with your filing system.” She uses quotes around the filing system, which only aggravates me further.
“Can one of you ask when I’ll be discharged? We have to pay a visit to Mrs. Harper.”
“I can handle it.” Cassie still looks upset. “I don’t think you should be up and on that leg soon. And you lost a huge puddle of blood.”
“Nonsense, a pair of crutches, and I’ll be back on my feet. Besides, they filled me up again. Got some new blood in the veins. I’m good to go.” After all the work we put into working this case, I wanted to see it resolved.
“Fine, I’ll ask. I feel like the police are going to beat us to the punch. Isn’t she going to wonder about her son when he doesn’t come home? Or when he calls her from jail?”
“Honestly, I don’t think Miles will call his mother for help. Now, who’s going to get something to eat? I’m starving.”
Cassie looks annoyed as she volunteers. “I’ll go. I need some air anyway.”
As she leaves the room, Quinn shakes her head. “She was really worried about you. You should be a little more sensitive.”
“Do I look like the sensitive type?” Despite my words, the idea of Cassie worrying about me warms my heart and sends a pulse of guilt through me simultaneously. “Was she really worried?”
“Yes, she really thought you were about to die, and honestly, so did I. You should have been more careful. We’ve talked about this sort of thing.”
“I didn’t choose to be taken hostage. If I had gone through with what he wanted us to do, it would have been much worse for everyone involved, including Cassie. I couldn’t take that risk.”
“What are you going to do about Phineas? Do you think he’s going to come after us again?”
“Don’t worry about Phineas.” The man wants me to be there for him. Whatever he needs, it must be big if he’s gone so far out of his way to ensure I fully cooperate.
“What is he going to want from you? If Cassie finds out?—”
“She’s not going to find out.” My grip tightens on the bedsheet. Even Quinn doesn’t know the whole truth. If she did, I’m not sure she’d stick around, either. Regardless, if Quinn or Cassie knew every detail of what happened between Phineas and me, they would both be in danger.
“You want her to stay, don’t you?” Quinn stares over her glasses at me. She knows me better than I would like. My way to protect my heart and never get hurt is not to let anyone in. I’ve broken that rule with Quinn in more ways than one. She is like a little sister to me.
“You want her to stay too,” I counter. Quinn is not the type to make a lot of friends. When it comes to Cassie, the two of them seem to get along quite well.
“I do, but I’m worried you’re gonna mess it all up.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Admitting it is beyond me, but Quinn is probably right. If anyone has a higher chance of messing up Cassie’s involvement with the team and the P.I. business, it’s me. Maybe, after I put Phineas behind me, I can become the type of person who doesn’t mess things up so much.
The idea is appealing, though most likely unrealistic. For now, I need to focus on getting better and out of the hospital. I want to wrap up the necklace mystery and figure out how to handle the Phineas situation. The more leverage I have on Phineas, the better my chances of surviving what’s to come. It will be a battle of wills and take everything I’ve got to come out of it the same man I am today.