Page 105 of Night Hawk
Drake glanced at Toni. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Help this woman down. I’ll be fine.”
Toni didn’t want to leave Drake behind, but the older woman was coughing hard and had stopped moving. She needed guidance, or she wouldn’t make it out.
Toni pulled her shirt up over her nose and took the woman’s arm. “Here we go. Nice and slow.”
“Bless—” A coughing fit took her words.
Toni waited for the spasm to stop, and they inched down the stairs. The smoke deepened in color and grew thicker. A wave of panic hit Toni, but she swallowed it down and kept the woman moving through the exit and into cleaner outside air.
Toni gulped the fresh air, but the woman launched into a gut-wrenching coughing fit.
Joy rushed over to them. “Mrs. Draper. I’m so sorry. Please. Come with me. I called the fire department. They should be here soon.”
Joy flashed Toni a thankful look. “You should move back from the building.”
Toni waited until Joy got Mrs. Draper settled on a bench in a wide parking strip. Toni backed to the rear of the parking lot as Joy directed but kept her eyes trained on the exit.
What was taking Drake so long?
She started counting, reaching five minutes, but he didn’t come out. She closed her eyes in prayer, begging for Drake’s and the little girl’s safety.
Maybe he needed help, and she should head back inside.
She’d decided to do just that when a gun jabbed her in the ribs and her gun was jerked from the holster. She flashed her eyes open and tried to turn, but a hand clamped on her shoulder, stopping her.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the gruff female voice said. “Except with me.”
Clay curled his fingers into fists. He could barely stomach watching Blake and Trent grill Hibbard through a one-way window. Clay wanted to be in that room. Be across the table from Hibbard. Sure, fine, Clay should be thankful to see the interview at all, but Clay wanted more. Wanted to sit across the table and force the man to confess to his many crimes. He wanted Toni there too. By his side.
Why waste time wishing for those things? Neither of them would come to fruition. He’d have to settle for the observer role.
Blake slapped the photos found in Rader’s garage on the table, one at a time until all fifty-five had been laid out.
Clay watched Hibbard relax against the chair, smug and confident. All Clay could see when he looked at the guy was the man in the videos violating young women. A disgusting sight.
“Fifty-five counts of abduction, kidnapping, and statutory rape of these girls,” Trent said. “And if that’s not enough to put you away for the rest of your life, we have these.”
Blake slid the photos found in Sharkey’s place. “Five counts of first-degree murder should do it.”
“I didn’t do any of this.” Hibbard shoved the photos across the table. “I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“Then why did we find these pictures with your name on the envelope in Sheldon Sharkey’s home?” Blake asked.
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Don’t worry, we will,” Trent said. “And when he cuts a deal and rolls on you—and he will—you’ll be looking at very serious time.”
Hibbard puffed out his chest. “He’s not the kind of guy to snitch.”
“We’ll keep at him until he talks,” Trent said. “You can be sure of that.”
Hibbard sputtered.
“And of course we have all the souvenirs and clothing Rader took from the girls. Your DNA is bound to be on it.”
