Chapter 15 #2
The scent of coffee permeated the air. It made him sick to his stomach. He had been on his way out of the building with the intention of calling her to find out if she was home yet, when he got the call from Matthew. Then his entire world had upended. Now all they could do was wait, wait, wait.
Everyone was here. Even her mother who had made a beeline for him, touching him, speaking to him. He had sent her away with a sharp word. He could not be touched. He did not want to talk to anyone.
Someone had shot his wife. Right now, she might be dying. No, no, no. She has to live. Please God, if you have any sense of compassion or love, please don't let her die.
His eyes darted to her brother, and he felt the pounding of his heart as he stared at the blood on his jeans. His wife's blood. The room spun with him, and he had to lean back and take deep breaths. He was going to pass out.
He jerked and opened his eyes at the light touch on his arm.
"Let me get you some coffee."
"No."
He shuddered out a breath as he looked at his father.
"I need some air."
"I'll go with you."
"Not out the front." Matthew announced. "The press is out there in full."
His eyes met Kyle's.
"They caught the son of a bitch who shot her. The asshole still had the gun on him."
"Where is he?"
"In custody. I'm heading out shortly to sit in on the interrogation. Cal--"
He broke off abruptly as the entire room turned to look at him.
"I'll walk out with you."
He waited until they were in the hallway. It had been two hours since the horrible news and words like, "baby in distress," "concussion," "bullet through and through," "internal bleeding" had filtered through Kyle's mind. He was numb and wondered if it would pass.
"I didn't want to say anything in there."
They passed a couple huddled together weeping. All around the scent and sound of misery pushed through the disinfectant and Lysol. Nothing masked the pall of sickness.
"He's a junkie and is making noises that he was paid to take Ingrid out."
The other two men stopped abruptly.
"What?"
Easing out a breath, Matthew rushed on.
"He's saying that he was hired by Carly Jennings."
Kyle's world reeled and tilted. Hands reached for him and pulled him into an empty waiting room.
"Breathe." His father said briskly.
"Carly paid someone to kill my wife? Why?"
"We're not sure if what the guy said is true. He's rambling about being a onetime neighbor of the actress and that he was paid five hundred in cash to get rid of her. His name is Billy something and he's insisting that it wasn't his idea."
"I need air."
He pushed away and hurried from the room, with the two men behind him. He headed unerringly for the chapel, ignoring the looks from the medical staff and the people in the waiting room.
"You got this?" Matthew asked Jason as they entered the sanctuary. "I need to go and find out if this is true."
"Go ahead. We'll keep you updated."
With a nod, Matthew walked out after touching his brother-in-law briefly on the arm. Jason gave him space and waited in silence while his son sat and stared up at the beleaguered looking depiction of the Savior with his arms spread and the red marks indicating blood loss.
He had been here himself and it seemed like yesterday. The memories came back painful and brutal.
"I did this."
He climbed out of his own misery to look at his son, his heart constricting at the acute misery and pain on his face. In a very short time, pain and grief had etched grooves between his cheeks. His face was pale and ashen, his hands shaking.
"You don't know that. The bastard might be looking for someone to blame."
Kyle lifted tear-soaked eyes to him.
"You don't believe that. I don't want to believe she's capable, but there was something about her that did not sit right."
Jason hesitated, searching his son's face for something solid to hold on to.
"Sometimes, people surprise us in ways we never imagined. But right now, we don't have all the facts."
He reached over, squeezing Kyle's shoulder gently.
"Let's not jump to conclusions until we know exactly what happened. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Kyle remained silent for a second, his thoughts jumbled.
"I used to wonder what the hell was it about losing mom that had you so crippled."
He lifted a shaky hand to his face.
"If I lose her--"
"You won't!"
"If I lost her, I would not want to go on. My life wouldn't be worth a damn thing. I understand perfectly now."
"Listen to me."
Jason took his hand, forcing his son to look at him.
"I had many happy years with your mother, the woman I love, the only woman I will ever love. We had some great times and two wonderful children."
He squeezed Kyle's hand.
"You will get many years with Ingrid, I promise you that."
He was about to respond when Jason's phone beeped. Letting go of Kyle's hand, he glanced at the screen and tensed.
"The doctor wants to see us."
Kyle could not move.
"That's all? Nothing more?"
"No. Let's go and see what's what."
Kyle refused to sit.
"The baby is breached."
The doctor told them briskly, preferring to be straight.
"We're going to have to go in. C-section. Your wife's pulse is thready, so we're going to have to move fast."
He took a breath.
"She lost a lot of blood. The good news is the bullet passed through without doing much damage. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial, but we have to get your son out now."
"If it comes down to a choice--"
Kyle could hardly breathe and felt as if he was being crushed.
"Save my wife."
"Hopefully it will not come down to that. I will let you know what's what."
He sank down as soon as the doctor left the room. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, deterring anyone who wanted to talk. And he prayed silently, prayed with everything in him that he would be given another chance.
*****
"Six pounds two ounces and none the worse for his ordeal." Dr. Pierce said with a tired smile.
"My wife?"
"Some internal bleeding which we managed to stop. She's still out of it and will be until the morning."
"I need to see her."
"Of course."
"You go ahead son." Jason urged. "We'll go and eyeball the little tyke and give her love from us."
With a nod, he left the room. She had been put in a private room with the curtains drawn and the bed slightly elevated. For a moment, he stood just inside the doorway, his eyes fixed on her. She was lying so still, a bandage wrapped around her left shoulder, where the bullet had pierced skin.
Her lovely skin, he thought, the rage emerging. Stepping into the room, he pulled up a chair and carefully passed his hand over hers. His fingers touched hers as if assuring himself that she was still warm. If she was warm, she was still alive.
Emotions clogged his throat and he wanted to hurl something, to beat something until it was dust. Reining it in, he stared at the long, elegant fingers, drawing circles over the tan line her missing rings had made.
The circle of diamonds he had placed there when he had been so reluctant to marry her.
He was wearing a ring too, a simple band with diamonds etched into the platinum. He should marry her for real, he mused.
"I'm sorry."
He began hoarsely.
"You probably cannot hear me darling, but I'm so sorry. I caused this--"
His voice choked and he had to stop.
"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
He blinked hard to clear away the moisture.
"Our son is fine. He needs his mama. We never decided if we were going with Dylan or Declan. I remember us arguing and you saying that you like the Irish name. We should go with Declan, but I don't want to do this without you."
Bending his head, he rested his cheek on their joined hands.
"I love you. Before I met you, my life was without color. I was simply just going on. You brought life into my existence. Do you know that? Darling, I adore you. And I never ever want to know what it feels like to be without you."
*****
"You went home." Kyle observed a few hours later.
He had insisted that the family go on home and he would keep them in the loop.
"I changed at the precinct."
Matthew had looked in at his sister, before following Kyle from the room.
"You should at least go home and get some sleep."
"No."
He rubbed his hands over his face and felt like a million years old.
"What's the progress?"
Matthew strode to the refreshment table and poured some coffee.
"We had her in the interrogation room and she put on quite a performance. She did not deny that she spoke to the asshole. Said he came up to her begging for some cash and that she remembered him from before."
He sipped coffee.
"Cried when we told her what he said about her hiring him to kill my sister. When asked how he would know where she would be, she wept even more and reminded us that my sister is a celebrity and people are always stalking people like her."
He came, sat.
"We've nothing to hold her. No physical evidence, no recordings of the transaction.
The bastard is as high as a kite and keeps changing his story.
One minute she paid him five hundred, the next she promised him sexual favors.
No jury in the world is going to believe that a woman like her would ever agree to be with a man like him.
He's jonesing for a fix and had to be taken to the hospital. The case is stalled."