14

“Okay. Here goes. I’m a little freaked out about the wedding.”

Baldwin snickered good-naturedly. “A little? I’d vote for a lot. I’d actually go so far as to throw out the idea that you don’t want to marry me after all.”

The hurt in his voice was more than she could bear. She reached over, ran a hand along his jaw, brushed back the forelock of hair that hung across his forehead. 170

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“Baby, you couldn’t be further from wrong. That’s not it at all. God, how do I explain this? It’s not the concept of marriage in general that’s got me freaked. Especially marriage to you. You know that you’re the only person on the face of the earth I would even consider marrying, much less buy a dress for and book a church.”

“You booked a church? And you got a dress?”

His mock excitement made her laugh. “Oh, stop it. You aren’t fu

The shadow had left his face. “By all means, continue.”

“Okay. I’m nervous about the wedding part. Having to stand up in front of all those people—I’m just not a fan of being the center of attention. What if we—”

The elevator interrupted her, and the doors slid open before they could go any further. She was going to suggest that they just elope, run off somewhere instead of dealing with the whole church mess. But the look on his face told her that this was the way he wanted to do it. She decided to save the conversation for later. She’d agreed to the hoopla, and had to deal with her fears. But she reserved the right to act squirrelly up until the moment she set foot in that damn church on Saturday.

She winked at him, then strolled out of the elevator as if she hadn’t been talking about the most important moment of her life.

The nurses’ station was unma

ing glances, she saw the hallways were deserted, the si

lence pervasive. Her lips thi

tively followed suit and they took a few tentative steps 14

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forward, getting a sense for what was happening. There was almost complete silence, the absence of sound deaf

ening. Unheard of in a busy downtown hospital. Taylor motioned to Baldwin to go right, then took two steps closer to the nurses’ station. Her primordial senses kicked in; she smelled the blood before she saw it. She stuck her head over the counter and saw the slumped form, a nurse with gray hair and blue scrubs. The woman was on her back, as if she’d slid to the floor and pleaded with her assailant before he shot her in the forehead. The shot was a little off center, a messy wound that came in at an angle and certainly killed the poor woman immediately. She pulled her head back, sheltered from possible incoming shots behind the station wall. What the hell was going on? She risked another glance, as if she needed to confirm the gunshot.

Baldwin was crouched next to her, pale. His weapon was steady in his hand, pointing down the empty hallway. They needed to proceed carefully.

Taylor realized it wasn’t quiet at all. Bells were going off, people were crying out. Bedlam had ensued in the fraction of a second that they had taken to assess the scene. A door slam made Taylor jump. She exploded, ru

She drew down on the figure retreating below her.

“Police, don’t move. Stop!” she screamed, and the figure halted for a fraction of a second, but only long 172

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enough to catch her eye before he darted through the door on level two and disappeared.

“Fuck!” Taylor yelled, throwing a long leg over the railing and dropping a floor. Her boots hit with a bang and she almost lost her balance, then she was down one more flight and out the same door.

He’d chosen well, the shooter. Level two was the sur

gery floor, and this particular entrance was to the Radio

graph and Endoscopy Center. No one was there—it was dead quiet, the silence real this time. Taylor listened, ears straining for footsteps or door slams, but heard nothing. Either this son of a bitch was a fast motherfucker, or he’d snuck into one of the rooms.

She wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t going to search without backup. She stepped back against the wall and pulled out her cell phone just as Baldwin appeared on the other side of the door. She could see his wild eyes through the wired glass. She pulled open the door, shaking her head.

“I don’t know which way he went. I was just calling you.” She spoke quietly. Baldwin leaned in to hear her. He whispered back. “I called it in. I don’t like this. Not one bit. There’s a doctor in her room who was coldcocked. He’s unconscious but alive. Fitz and Marcus are on their way with a butt load of uniforms. They’ll cover the en

trances. Let’s take it slow, start down this hallway on the left.”

“Think this might have been the man she works for?

The way she told it, she’s important to her boss. What in the hell is going on?”

He shrugged. “Either she’s valuable as a pro, or she knows too much.”

“Yeah. You go left, I’ll go right. We’re covered below. 14

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He’s gone, I don’t think he’s still here. Just don’t think I was quick enough.”

That’s when she realized that her ankle was killing her. She must have twisted it when she jumped over the railing. Superwoman, she was not.

“Okay. Go slow, be careful.”

They parted, heading down opposite paths. It didn’t take long.

Baldwin sent out a long, low whistle. Taylor back

tracked until she found him standing over a body. On closer inspection, she made out the small, quiet face of Saraya Gonzalez. Her blood pooled beneath her—

that sharp bang. It wasn’t Taylor’s boots hitting the landing, it was the killer shooting this poor girl. Taylor holstered her weapon and ran her fingers through her hair. This was turning into one of the worst weeks she’d ever known.

The emergency entrance bay to Baptist Hospital was crowded with police cruisers, overflowing into the street. The blue lights flashed up and down Twentieth Avenue; the area hummed with activity.

Taylor stood at the command post, watching. A man

hunt was on for the shooter, though it seemed he’d gotten away from the area. A thorough search had revealed a wig, baseball cap and jacket in the municipal trash outside the emergency room exit. The video had been analyzed; the shooter had exited through the emergency room bay with the disguise intact, and hadn’t shed his fake identity until he was well out of range of the cameras. They had a height and approximate weight, but nothing else. Roadblocks had been set in a mile perimeter, but without knowing 174

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what they were looking for, they wouldn’t be much use. It was time to admit defeat on this event, and Taylor was furious—with herself, Baldwin, the shooter and any avail

able person within forty feet.

Another two bodies for Sam: Saraya and the nurse at the head station. Bad timing for her; if she’d just been in another spot on the floor she might have lived. Jesus. Why hadn’t he just shot the girl and been done with it? Why had he tried to take her out of the hospital? Kidnap her, then murder her? Saraya mustn’t have been kidding when she spoke of her value to her employer. Damn. The only lead Taylor had into that world was gone. Fitz was standing nearby, talking quietly into his cell phone. He hung up and looked over at Taylor. She knew something was wrong, the set of his chin was a dead giveaway. Someone else was dead.