Page 21 of Rogue Survivor
I don’t know what’s going on, but I know my daughter, and even though she’s obviously hurt, obviously been givensomething, she’s still coherent. And very afraid. “Connor! No police!”
“Isabel—” He limps over to me, doing his best to keep out of the nurses’ way. Veronica’s heart rate is too low, and one of them calls for a doctor. “Someone tried to hurt her. I willnotlet them try again.”
“Veronica said no.” Sheila orders us to wait against the wall, but I can’t move until Connor takes my arm. “She’s smart,” I say, peering up at him as he guides me to the corner of the room. “She has a reason.”
“All right, darlin’. We’ll wait. For now. But I’m stayin’ right here.”
Tears spill onto my cheeks, and when Connor wraps his arms around me, I let myself shatter into pieces.
Chapter Eight
Connor
Three nursesand two doctors hover around Veronica’s bed trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She keeps falling asleep—or passing out—and no one knows what that asshole gave her.
“They’re doing everything they can,” I whisper for what feels like the hundredth time.
Every few minutes, Isabel tries to get to her daughter, but the doctors need room to work, so I hold her tight in my arms, even when she curses me and tells me I can’t possibly understand what she’s going through. My gaze keeps straying to the window in the door. There are too many fucking people passing by. The hospital needs to move Veronica to another room—one that doesn’t have her name on it—and I need to make some calls. Get official protection for her. But I can’t do that until I find out why she’s terrified of the police.
After twenty minutes, one of the doctors pulls off his gloves and dumps them into the trash with a heavy sigh. “We can’t be positive until we test her IV bag, but it’s likely she was given a beta blocker. It’s a drug that can lower your blood pressure and heart rate. Some epinephrine brought her vitals back in line, but we’ll keep a close eye on her for the rest of the night. Expect one of the nurses to be in here every hour at the least, and if her heart rate drops below sixty, we’ll have to administer another dose.”
Isabel sags against me, a fresh trail of tears staining her cheeks. I’m not sure she could stand if her life depended on it. “She’ll be okay?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“She should be. But we need to report what happened to the authorities.”
Veronica starts to protest, but I meet her gaze and hold up my hand. “Dr…?”
“Dr. Wright. And you are?”
“Special Agent Connor Davis, FBI.” Shifting to tuck Isabel under my left arm, I reach into my jacket pocket for my ID. “The Bureau will handle this case from here. I trust I don’t have to sequester you and your staff until we can bring in additional security?”
The doc stares at my billfold with such intensity, I wonder how quickly I could get in touch with Brent this time of night. But just when I’m about to go on the offensive, he blows out a breath. “Fine. But the hospital is liable for the safety of our patients, and if you can’t provide adequate protection for Ms. Lopez ASAP, Iwillcall in Austin PD.”
“Fair enough. How fast can y’all move her to another room?”
After a quick glance at the last remaining nurse fussing with Veronica’s pulse-ox meter, Dr. Wright frowns. “It’ll take at least half an hour. We can transfer her down to the eighth floor now that she’s not critical. Into a shared room.”
“Oh,hellno, doc. She gets her own room. A double so there’s a bed for Isabel to get some sleep. And you’ll station a security guard outside her door until I get a team in place. The only ones in or out of her room until further notice are you, one nurse you’ll designate, her mother, and me. Got it?”
Isabel stares up at me like I’ve just given her the world, and when Dr. Wright reluctantly agrees, I jerk my head toward the door. “Give us the room until you’re ready to move her, but if it’s oneminuteover thirty, I’m talkin’ to the hospital administrator, even if I have to get them out of bed to do it.”
Once everyone leaves, I wedge one of the chairs under the door knob, then limp across the room to rest my back against the wall so I can keep an eye on the hallway. My knee throbs with each beat of my heart, and when I reach down to rub it, I have to stifle my hiss of pain. It’s going to swell like a motherfucker before long.
Isabel squeezes onto the bed next to her daughter and Veronica starts to cry. “I’m so sorry, Mom. This is all my fault.”
“Want to tell me why you’re scared of the police?” I ask. Even though I keep my voice gentle, Veronica’s whole body goes rigid. “No one’s going to be angry with you, lil’ bit. But whoever tried to kill you? I’d lay odds they’re gonna try again.”
She sniffles and pulls away from Isabel. “Mitzi didn’t leave me at the library. W-we got in touch with Jamie. The woman at the sober living home who’d had her friends go missing?”
“Veronica! I told you to let the police handle the case,” Isabel chides.
“I should have listened.” Swiping at her cheek, Veronica tugs at the thin blanket. “Jamie agreed to meet with us, so we went down to the bus station on MLK. She said a man named Reggie Boswell had been calling her like ten times a day. Even after she blocked his number, he just started using a different one. Then he showed up at her job. She was so scared, Mom. He threatened to tell Child Protective Services that she was using again so she’d never get her kids back.”
“Why would they believe this Reggie asshole?” I ask.
Isabel shoots me a look and mouths, “Language.”Shit. I can’t remember the last time I was around a kid for any length of time.
Veronica sniffles. “Because the police officer who was here earlier—Officer Milton?—he works with Reggie.” Her voice fades, and I glance at her heart rate monitor. It’s ticked up in the past couple of minutes, and if we’re not careful, the nurse will be banging on the door.
