Читать книгу Forgotten Memories - Laura Scott - Страница 10

TWO

Gabby was sandwiched between the two men dressed in black, her heart racing with fear.

The only advantage she had at the moment was the fact that they’d tied her wrists together in front of her. Slowly she edged her hands over to the right, trying to reach the pocket of her lab coat without either of the gunmen noticing.

Her wrists hurt from where the rope cut into her skin, but she forced herself to ignore the sharp pain as she slipped her fingers into the deep pocket. She knew she had a scalpel in there from earlier in the evening, when she thought she was going to need it but then hadn’t. The one-and-a-half-inch blade wasn’t much of a weapon, especially against a gun, but it was better than nothing. Still, she had to get it out of her pocket and take the cover off the sharp edge of the blade before she could even use it.

Gabby could feel the handle of the scalpel, but her fingers were growing numb and she couldn’t seem to get a grip on it. Twice she managed to grasp the handle between her fingers, but then when she tried to draw the blade out, dropped it.

Gabby swallowed hard as tears threatened. At twenty-nine years old, she wasn’t ready to die, and certainly not like this. What in the world was going on? She led a boring life, one that consisted of working, eating, sleeping and then working some more. Sometimes she read mysteries and tried to get some running in, but not very often. As the youngest trauma surgeon on staff, she was expected to take a good portion of the late-night and weekend shifts.

Her social life was nonexistent, which was the way she liked it. She’d avoided personal relationships since her residency, unable to fully trust that she wouldn’t become another victim again. Besides, she didn’t need a man interfering with her goal of dedicating her life to helping others.

She couldn’t imagine what she’d done to make anyone, especially a guy named Creighton, angry enough to do something like this. The more she thought about it, the more she believed these Neanderthals had grabbed the wrong person. This couldn’t possibly be about her. Yet being innocent wasn’t going to spare her life. If they didn’t rape her, they’d likely kill her.

Sooner than later.

But she wasn’t dead yet and just the idea of this being a potential sexual assault made her determined not to give up without a fight. She tried once again to grasp the handle of the scalpel and this time managed to hang on long enough to inch it up into the palm of her hand. Now she needed to figure out how to get the cover off the blade without slicing herself.

Abruptly the driver turned right onto a dirt road and the momentum made her fall against the guy on her left. Somehow she managed to hang on to the scalpel even when the guy harshly shoved her back upright.

“Hope you’re ready to cooperate with Creighton,” the guy on her left sneered. “Don’t bother trying to fight him—he’s used to getting what he wants.”

Gabby had no idea what that meant, and didn’t particularly want to find out. Desperately, she inched the handle of the scalpel farther into her hands until she could feel the edge of the plastic cover shielding the blade.

As the truck came to a stop in a small clearing, she managed to push the cover off the end without hurting herself. She did her best to keep the tip pointed down and hidden beneath the edge of her lab coat.

If either one of these men with guns looked at her hands too closely, they might see her meager weapon.

And then it would be game over.

The thug to her right slid out of the backseat first and then stood outside and gestured with his gun. “Get out.”

Gabby swallowed hard around the gag and scooted awkwardly across the bench seat, trying not to give in to the overwhelming sense of doom.

Despite having worked a twenty-four-hour shift, she needed to stay focused, ready to react at the right moment. The scalpel in her hands wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe she’d catch these guys off guard long enough to run away. She hoped that the Creighton guy they talked about wasn’t standing there waiting for her.

The fact that she was wearing a white lab coat wouldn’t exactly help her hide for long. White was easy to see in the darkness of the night. Gabby winced. Why hadn’t she changed her clothes? It was obviously too late to wallow in regrets now.

“Hurry up,” the guy said with impatience.

The truck sat high off the ground, forcing her to jump down awkwardly. She stumbled and staggered off to the side, remaining bent over as she stayed on her feet, hiding the fact that she was still gripping the scalpel.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the guy growled, crossing over to where she was standing.

She obviously couldn’t answer with the gag in her mouth. There was no one else in the clearing, and the second guy was still making his way out of the car, so when the first guy came closer, she figured it was now or never. His jacket was open and he only wore a thin T-shirt beneath it. Gabby brought her bound hands upward, shoving the tip of the scalpel into his upper abdomen with all the force she could muster. He let out a howl of pain and doubled over, so she immediately turned and ran toward the trees.

Pop! Pop! The sound of gunfire echoed around her like fireworks on the Fourth of July, and she braced herself for searing pain even as she ducked behind the trees.

No pain yet, or maybe she was just too numb to feel it. She kept going, frustrated that she couldn’t get out of the lab coat with her hands tied in front of her, and worse, she’d inadvertently dropped the scalpel. Desperately she pushed farther into the woods, not even caring that she probably sounded like an elephant barging through the forest. She purposefully chose the dense areas in an attempt to use the brush for cover.

And while she normally wasn’t the type to pray, she found herself doing just that.

* * *

Shane crouched in the bed of the truck closest to the passenger side, watching and waiting for the right time to make his move. One guy got out from the backseat first and then told Gabriella to do the same, waving his gun at her in a way that made him clench his teeth in anger. If that guy hurt her... He couldn’t bear to finish that thought.

Moving slowly, Shane rose to his feet, plastering himself against the black truck in time to see Gabriella jump down and then stumble off to the side, putting space between herself and the first assailant.

Good job, he thought proudly, willing her to keep her distance if possible.

When the man who’d gotten out of the truck first moved closer to Gabriella, Shane pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster and waited for the second guy to get out, knowing that he’d have a better chance if he took care of both gunmen at the same time.

He was concentrating on the second perp, so he missed what happened. But when the guy closest to Gabriella howled in pain, Shane couldn’t help feeling a surge of satisfaction. Using the distraction to his advantage, he turned and fired at the second kidnapper, who’d just gotten out of the truck. When the perp fell backward, Shane turned his attention to the man who was doubled over in pain. He didn’t know how badly the guy was hurt, but since he was still on his feet, Shane shot him, before jumping down to the ground. Gabriella was already running into the trees, her white lab coat shining like a beacon as it flapped behind her.

He sprinted after Gabriella as more gunfire erupted from behind him. No doubt the driver, along with the two guys who must not be as injured as he’d thought.

Shane let her run for a bit, knowing they needed to cover a lot of ground, but when she glanced back at him, obviously afraid she was being followed, he understood she assumed he was one of the bad guys.

He caught up, reaching out to grab Gabriella’s arm. She swung at him with her bound wrists, her eyes wild.

“It’s me, Shane Hawkins,” he whispered, hoping she remembered him. “I’m a cop and I’m here to help.”

For a moment she stared at him, as if trying to see his face clearly in the dark. His SWAT uniform must have helped reassure her, because suddenly she sagged against him.

He was tempted to hold her reassuringly, but there was no time. Shane gripped her arm and urged her to continue moving. He’d caught a glimpse of the gag around her mouth and her bound wrists, but right now, putting distance between them and the gunmen was more important than freeing her.

Gabriella must have understood because she kept pace alongside him as they made their way farther into the woods. He wove a zigzag path going as fast as he dared, finally stopping behind two trees at what he estimated was a good seventy yards from the clearing.

He holstered his weapon and reached for his knife. “We need to get you out of that lab coat,” he murmured.

She nodded, her eyes wide as she held up her bound wrists. He cut through the rope, feeling helpless at the way she winced as blood rushed back into her fingers. He then reached up to untie the gag. She dragged in a harsh breath and it occurred to him that running while being gagged must have been grueling. When Gabriella was finally free, she shucked out of the lab coat, shivering in her thin dark green scrubs.

“Here,” Shane whispered. He quickly removed his black jacket and guided her arms into the sleeves. Then he balled up the white lab coat and tucked it deep in the brush. He kicked dirt over it and then straightened. “I’m sorry, but we have to keep moving.”

“I know,” she whispered back, drawing the edges of his jacket close.

Shane was impressed by Gabriella’s determination and fortitude. Her training as a surgeon must be helping her to keep calm in a crisis. Which was a good thing...because they couldn’t afford to slow down now. He didn’t hear anyone moving through the woods, but that didn’t mean the gunmen weren’t out there tracking them.

He quickened his stride and urged her to do the same. There was no way he was going to assume the two he’d shot at were too injured to move. His goal had been to wound them enough to get away, not to kill them.

No doubt, the uninjured driver was still out there, searching for them.

Shane turned to the right, hoping they could double back toward Highway 60. His backup should be arriving any time now, but the deputies wouldn’t know he and Gabriella were hiding in the woods. And he wanted to warn his team members about the gunmen.

Gabriella stumbled and fell to her knees, breathing hard. His heart ached for her and he dropped down, placing his arm over her shoulders and leaning close. “Gabriella, are you all right?” he asked.

She rubbed her hand over her eyes and nodded.

“Let me help you,” he said, gingerly urging her upright. When she was back on her feet, he anchored his arm around her waist. She leaned heavily against him as they continued moving through the woods.

Did he dare use the radio? The last thing he wanted was to broadcast their location to anyone close enough to hear them. Even the slightest sound would travel in the night.

“Maybe we can hide over there,” Gabriella murmured.

He turned to the left and saw what she meant. A huge tree had fallen, but instead of hugging the ground, it was propped up at thigh level by the massive branches at the far end.

Not the ideal place to hide, but it might work long enough that he could radio for help. He took Gabriella’s hand and silently led the way to the fallen tree.

“Right here,” he said, indicating the thickest area of the tree. Gabriella didn’t argue, collapsing to the ground and leaning against the rough bark.

Shane stayed right next to her, using his body as a shield as he took a few minutes to sweep his gaze across the area.

The night was eerily silent.

He flipped on his radio and cupped his hands over his mouth and the speaker. “This is unit twelve. What’s the status on backup?”

“Two squads have gotten off on Highway 60,” the dispatcher informed him. “Please provide your location.”

“Roughly two miles west on sixty, there’s a dirt road off to the right.” Shane wondered belatedly if the deputies had passed them by. The dirt road might not be easy to see.

“Ten-four,” the dispatcher responded.

Gabriella looked up and lightly grasped his arm. “Tell them to look for a red fire marker, number 271,” she said quietly.

He lifted a brow, wondering how on earth she’d managed to notice that detail, but repeated the information for the dispatcher.

“Ten-four,” the dispatcher said.

Shane flipped the radio off and hovered over Gabriella. There was a part of him that wanted to keep moving, just in case, but at the same time, their backup was so close they only needed to hang on for a little while longer.

“Do we have to move?” she whispered, obviously exhausted.

“Not yet, you can rest for now,” he replied. He wanted Gabriella to be safe before he could begin to figure out why she’d been kidnapped in the first place.

He crouched protectively over her and waited, hoping his teammates would arrive soon.

* * *

Gabby was still wired from the rush of adrenaline, but she wasn’t sure her legs would carry her much farther. Shane must think she was a wimp, but he had no way of knowing she’d worked more than twenty-four hours straight.

She was still reeling from the fact that the ruggedly handsome deputy had appeared out of nowhere to help her. Had he witnessed the men kidnapping her from the hospital? No other explanation made sense, and right now she was deeply grateful to know she wasn’t alone.

His coat smelled like him, warm and musky. She buried her face in the collar, taking a deep breath. Shane’s scent helped to keep her calm as she listened for any indication the gunmen were close.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Shane finally flipped his radio back on.

“I need an update,” he said in a low, urgent tone.

“Unit ten has been trying to reach you. They’ve found the truck and three men, all dead.”

A chill snaked down her spine and she stared at Shane in horror. “Wh—what? How could all three be dead?” she stammered.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Shane replied grimly. “I only shot two of them, leaving a third unaccounted for. He was the driver.”

“Understood. Unit ten, please confirm the number of dead found at the scene,” the dispatcher said.

“Hawk, where are you?” a male voice asked impatiently. “We found the black truck on the dirt road, but we have three dead guys here, and we need to know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible,” Shane said. “We’re obviously not alone out here. Someone must be lurking nearby, and I won’t risk exposing the female hostage with me to any more danger.”

“Creighton,” Gabby whispered, reaching up to grasp his arm. “They were taking me to see a man named Creighton, and told me I’d better cooperate since he’s used to getting what he wants.”

Shane narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you know this Creighton guy?” he asked.

“No, never heard the name before in my life and I can’t even begin to guess if that’s his first or last name.”

“Subject at large goes by the name of Creighton,” he said through the radio. “Spread out and search the woods.”

“Ten-four, hold your twenty.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember someone named Creighton?” Shane pressed. “Someone you work with, one of your patients...or someone from your past?”

“I’m sure.” She wasn’t about to explain about her eidetic memory. Men tended to look at her oddly once they knew the truth. Yes, she was smart, but mostly because her brain was wired in a way that made it easy to remember things she’d read or learned. But for some reason, men were put off by her level of intelligence. Except for Damon, and he’d turned out to be a horrible brute anyway. She shivered again, forcing the bad memories of the past out of her mind. None of that mattered now.

She felt safe with Shane.

Finally the beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness. “Hawk? Is that you?” a male voice asked. She could see a tall, sandy-haired man walk toward them, dressed in the same black uniform as Shane’s.

“Yeah, we’re here,” Shane said, relief audible in his tone. “I’m glad to see you, Nate. Are you sure there’s no sign of anyone else hiding nearby?”

“I’m sure,” Nate’s tone was firm. “And when you see the scene back at the truck, you’ll be sure, too. Whoever did that is likely long gone.”

Gabby’s stomach clenched, not that she wasn’t used to seeing dead bodies, but generally she preferred to see them in the hospital setting, not where they’d been killed.

“Gabriella, are you able to walk?” Shane asked her. “Or would you rather I carry you?”

“No, thanks. I can walk.” She couldn’t imagine being carried out of here in Shane’s arms...talk about embarrassing! “And please call me Gabby.” She dragged herself upright with an effort, secretly relieved when Shane put his arm around her waist again, grateful for his support.

“I’m Deputy Freemont,” Nate said, coming up alongside her. She nodded, humbled by the fact that these brave men had put their lives on the line to rescue her.

Especially Shane.

“I don’t know how you managed to find me,” she murmured to Shane as they approached the clearing. Now that they were walking back to the scene from where she’d managed to escape, she felt nervous, half expecting the men in black to come after her again. “I thought for sure those thugs would hurt or kill me.”

“I was supposed to be picking up evidence at the hospital, but when I saw you outside, I decided to head over to talk to you,” Shane said. “I just happened to be several yards behind when those two men grabbed you.”

“Did you follow the truck?” she asked.

“No, I managed to hitch a ride in the back,” he admitted gruffly. “There was no way I was going to let them get away with hurting you.”

The stark conviction in his tone sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. Gabby knew Shane was a cop and that protecting people like her was part of his job, but she couldn’t help thinking how attractive he was with his dark brown hair and blue eyes. But his big muscular frame was a bit intimidating, even though he didn’t give any indication that he’d use his strength against her.

Damon hadn’t given her that impression, either.

Trusting men wasn’t easy for many reasons. Damon had tried to sexually assault her. And she still resented her stepfather for sending her away at nine years old to live at the Einstein School of Brilliance. He hadn’t seemed to care how much he’d hurt her by tearing her away from her mother. And her mother certainly hadn’t stood up for Gabby, either.

She shook her head, reminding herself that all of that angst was in the past. She needed to stay focused on the present. Her career. The hospital, the one place she knew she belonged.

She walked alongside Shane and when they approached the clearing, he stopped and placed a restraining hand on her arm. “You shouldn’t come any closer, Gabby,” he advised. “This might give you nightmares. Stay here with Nate and I’ll return shortly.”

“No, I want to come,” she said, surprising herself with the need to see what had happened.

He frowned and shook his head. “There’s no reason for you to have to see this,” he insisted.

“Shane, I’m a trauma surgeon,” she reminded him. “I’ve probably seen more gunshot wounds than you.”

Shane and Nate exchanged a look of frustration. “I doubt it,” Shane said grimly. “Come along, if you insist, but stay close to me.”

She was still shaken by what had happened, so sticking close to Shane wasn’t a problem. There were several other cops in the clearing, but Gabby’s focus was on the dead gunmen.

The closest man lying on the ground was the guy she’d stabbed with her scalpel. Even though she was told they were dead, she found herself kneeling and reaching out to feel for a pulse.

“Don’t,” Shane said quickly, reaching down to take her hand. “I’m sorry...but I can’t risk you accidently contaminating the evidence.”

She hadn’t thought of this as a crime scene, but of course it was. “Sorry,” she murmured. “But you should know this is the one I stabbed with a scalpel.”

“A scalpel?” he repeated in surprise. “You normally carry one around with you?”

She flushed and shook her head. “No, but sometimes supplies end up in my pocket. This particular scalpel wasn’t the kind we use in the operating rooms but one of the disposable ones that we use to make small incisions as needed while providing patient care in the emergency department.”

“I’m really glad you had that with you,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “Using that as a weapon provided the perfect distraction to help me take out the other guy.”

She nodded, ridiculously touched by his praise.

“Nate, shine your flashlight on him. There, see? He has two gunshot wounds,” Shane said. “I shot at his chest, and can see the entry wound where I hit him. But there’s no way I gave him the gunshot wound in his forehead.”

“The other two guys have the same type of injury,” Nate added, leaning over Shane’s shoulder. “They were all taken out with a single gunshot wound to the head. You can see why we figured the shooter was long gone.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Gabby said, glancing between the two deputies.

“Dead men don’t talk,” Shane explained in a somber tone.

She shivered, knowing he was right. Dead men couldn’t talk, and she couldn’t help wondering if Creighton himself had done this.

And if so, what had he intended to do with her?