Riptide

20

She was aware of ear-splitting noise-men’s and women’s voices yelling loudly, car tire s screeching, horns blasting, and movement, she could feel the blur of movement everywhere, pounding feet, ru

People were yelling, coming closer now, and there were men and women shouting, “Stay back! Let us through!”

She tried to open her eyes, but her muscles were too weak, wouldn’t obey her, and the pain was boiling up inside her. She was so very tired, nearly blown under with it. Then she felt a hideously sharp stab of pain somewhere in her body, fierce, unrelenting, and she knew tears were leaking out of her eyes.

“Miss! Can you hear me?”

She felt his hand on her shoulder, felt the sun beating down on her, hot on her bare skin-what bare skin? Her legs were bare, that was it. But he was over her, a shadow blocking the sun.

“Miss? Can you hear me? Are you conscious?”

She opened her eyes then because he sounded so very afraid. “Yes,” she whispered, “I can hear you. I can see you. Not clearly, but I can see you.”

“My God, it’s her! It’s that Matlock woman!”

More shouting, yelling, some curses, and so much heat, the press of bodies, the ru

A woman lightly tapped her cheek. “Open your eyes for me. Yes, that’s right. Do you know who you are?”

She looked up into Letitia Gordon’s grim, incredulous face.

Maybe there was also a touch of worry in those unforgiving eyes. Becca whispered to that hard face over her, “You’re the cop who hates me. How can you be here, right over me, speaking to me? You’re in New York, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and so are you.”

“No, that’s not possible. I was in Riptide. You know, I never could figure out why you hated me and believed I was a liar.”

The woman’s face contorted. Into anger? What?

“He drugged me,” she whispered, her mouth so dry she nearly swallowed her tongue. “He drugged me. I hurt so much but I just can’t tell where.”

“All right. You’ll be all right. Hey, Dobbson, is the ambulance here yet? Get off your butt, usher them through. Now!”

Letitia Gordon’s face was really close to hers now, her breath minty on her cheek. “We’ll find out what’s happening here, Ms. Matlock. You just rest now.”

She felt hands pulling cloth down over her legs. Why were her legs bare? She realized then that there was pain in her legs. But it wasn’t as bad as the other pain. Where was she? In New York? But that made no sense. Nothing made sense. Her brain nestled back into the shadows. The pain faded away. Becca sighed deeply and closed down.

She heard them speaking, soft, quiet voices not four feet away from her, talking, talking. Then they were closer, much closer, talking above her, which meant what? She opened her eyes. Blinked. She was flat on her back. The people speaking were on the left, and one of the people was Adam.

She wet her lips with her tongue. “Adam?”

He whirled around so fast he nearly lost his balance. Then he was at her side and he lifted her hand and held it hard between his two large ones. She felt the calluses on his palms.

“What’s going on? Where are we? I dreamed I saw Detective Gordon, you know, that cop who hates me?”

“Yes, I know. She left just a little while ago. She’ll be back, but later, when you’ve got it together again. You’re going to be all right, Becca. There’s nothing to worry about. Just take it easy and breathe nice shallow, light breaths. That’s right. Does your head hurt?”

She thought about that. “No, not really, it’s just that I’m all fuzzy. Even you’re kind of fuzzy, Adam. I’m so glad to see you. I thought I was going to die, that I’d never see you again. I couldn’t bear it. Where are we?”

He lightly touched his fingertip to her cheek. “You’re at New York University Hospital. The guy who took you from your bed in Jacob Marley’s house, the guy who was holding you, he shoved you out of his car right in front of One Police Plaza.”

“It was Krimakov?”

“We believe so. At least it’s a strong possibility.”

She said, “I asked him if he was Krimakov but he wouldn’t answer me. We’re in New York City?”

“Yes. You did see Detective Gordon. She was one of the cops who came ru

“My lucky day,” Becca said.

“Damn, I’m sorry, Becca, so sorry. I really fucked up and just look what happened.”

She heard the awful guilt in his voice, the fear, and finally, overlaying all of it, the relief that she was alive. He couldn’t be as relieved as she was. “It’s okay, Adam, really.”

“Hi, Becca.”

She smiled up at Sherlock and Savich, one on either side of her hospital bed. “We’re sure glad to see you.”

“Me, too. I thought you were in Riptide.”

“We can move quickly when we have to,” Sherlock said, lightly patting Becca’s shoulder. “Dillon got a call from Tellie Hawley, the SAC at the New York City office. Tellie told him what happened. We got here three hours later.”

“What happened to him? Did they get him?”

Sherlock said, “Unfortunately, no. There was mass confusion. He shoved you out of the car, then jumped out while the car was still rolling and disappeared into the crowd. The car hit three other people before it smashed into a fire hydrant and drenched another fifty people. It was a zoo. We’ve gotten some descriptions, but no one agrees with anyone else so far.”

He was still out there, free. She felt flattened. “So he got away again,” she said, and wanted to shriek with the helplessness that flooded her.

Adam was clearing his throat. “We’ll get him, Becca. You’ve got to believe that. Now, there’s someone here for you to meet.”

Her head came up, fast. “Please, no doctors, Adam. I hate doctors. Oh, God, so did my mother.” And she started crying. She didn’t know where all the tears came from, but they were there, swamping her, and she was sobbing, tears streaming down her face, and she wanted her mother desperately. “My mom died in a hospital, Adam. She hated it, then she just didn’t care because she was in a coma. No one could do anything. She died in a hospital just like this one.” The tears kept coming, she couldn’t stop them.

Then suddenly someone was holding her, drawing her close, and a man’s dark, smooth voice said next to her ear, “It’s all right, my darling girl. It’s all right.”

And she stilled. Strong arms were around her. She felt his heart pounding rhythmically, powerful and steady against her cheek. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to carry on like this. I miss my mother. I loved her so much and she died. There isn’t anyone else for me.”

“I miss your mother, too, Becca. It’s going to be all right. I swear it to you.”

She pulled back just a bit and looked up at an older man who looked oddly familiar to her, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? She was sure she’d never seen him before in her life. The drugs were still affecting her, holding her brain back, scrambling things, making her cry. “I’m nobody’s darling girl,” she whispered, and raised her hand to lightly touch her fingers to the man’s cheek. He was so handsome, his face lean, his nose thin, straight, his eyes a soft light blue, dreamy eyes. Now that was strange. Her mother had told her that she had dreamy eyes, summer dreamy eyes. “I don’t understand,” she said, frowning up at the man’s face. “Who are you?”