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Kidnapped Hearts Page 6
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Pamela gasped. Blood spread across several faces. Oh my god, oh my god… It looked like a war zone. She scanned the numerous people on the floor, crying, clutching parts of their body, and then, her eyes found her dad. His large frame was huddled over a body lying on the floor. She shifted to see better.
“No!” She climbed to her feet. “Marge!” she screamed as tears fell down her face. Pamela raced to her father’s side. Jake beat her to him. Her dad’s hands pressed on Marge’s neck. Blood covered them.
“Get me a towel,” Jake ordered to Sue standing nearby, looking flustered. She left and returned quickly. Jake pressed the towel on Marge’s neck.
“I pulled the piece of glass out of her neck.” Donald sat back on his haunches, tears in his eyes. “I knew better.”
Pamela didn’t know what to do, console her father or Marge. Jake’s soothing voice broke through the internal panic rushing through her body. “Pamela, Marge will be fine. I need you to keep pressure applied to the wound, so I can check on the others.”
She nodded.
He guided her hand onto Marge’s neck. “Keep pressure on it. The ambulance will be here shortly.”
She stared at Marge’s neck. “Okay.” Pamela pressed on the already blood soaked towel and looked at Marge’s pale face.
“Sweetheart.”
“Don’t talk, Marge. You need your strength.”
“Pamela, I love you.”
Pamela swallowed an exploding sob. She had to be strong … for Marge. “Marge, don’t talk that way. You will be okay.”
Marge moved her hand until it touched Pamela’s leg. “Honey, where’s your father?”
She broke her gaze away from Marge and glanced over her shoulder. Donald sat on the floor beside Marge, holding her hand in a daze. Pamela sucked in another sob. Marge couldn’t feel her dad touching her. This wasn’t good. She pinched her lips, swallowed, and in her strongest voice said, “Dad, Marge has to keep her head straight. She can’t see you. Lean your head forward.”
Donald leaned up on one knee and looked into Marge’s eyes. “Love, you will be okay.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, dear.”
The sob that Pamela tried to hold back burst through. A loud noise vibrated from her chest, and her nose ran. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?” Pamela screamed.
Someone touched her back, then another pair of hands touched her. She felt like she was in the middle of a human sandwich. She heard the sniffles to her right and knew it was Celine. To the left, soothing words were trying to comfort her, Paul. Another pair of hands joined, resting their hands on top of the towel with hers. “Jake,” she sobbed. “This is my fault.”
Warm lips touched her temple. “Nonsense.”
“EMTs are here,” Paul announced, backing out of the way. Celine followed, but not Jake. He stayed with her.
Several members of the Emergency Medical Team walked through the scattered glass, carrying stretchers. A young man crouched beside her. “I’ll take it from here. You’ve done great.”
Pamela shook her head, wiped her nose, and stood.
Two more men supported Marge’s back then slipped her onto a stretcher. After strapping her to the board, they raised the stretcher. “We’re taking her to MaryWashingtonHospital,” the young man said, and disappeared out of sight. Her dad followed.
Pamela drew in breath. Air wheezed inside her tight lungs as she took in the chaos. Paul and Celine walked around helping people while Sue swept the pieces of glass. Agent Lever, along with several men in suits, swarmed the dining room. Her café was a disaster. Worse, people were hurt because of her. Devastated, she fell backwards.
Hands grasped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and reached her hand under her butt to pull out whatever it was that stabbed her. She figured it’d be a piece of glass. It wasn’t. Instead, she held a rock the size of a fist. A rubber band held a note to it.
She looked at Jake kneeling beside her. Air escaped her lungs, sounding like a balloon leaking. This was all her fault. Marge was in the back of an ambulance, fighting for her life because of her. Against her better judgment, she removed the rubber band and read the note. You were warned. The hard, crushing fact that a terrorist put family, friends, and her business into a blood bath shook her to the core. Her body trembled, tears streamed, and her vision blurred.
“She’s in shock. Get an ambulance over here,” a male voice said. Was it Steve? Paul?
“Stay with me, sweetheart.”
Warm lips sealed hers.
The lights went out.
Chapter Six
Jake paced the waiting area of the Emergency Room, waiting for the go ahead to see Pamela. One hand in his pocket, the other hand slid across his forehead as he tried to understand how the Black Scorpions had breached the FBI’s secured area. Through the chaos, he had heard agents were down, but hadn’t been told officially.
He stopped pacing in front of the double windows and stared into the parking lot. When he had seen Pamela not moving, he had thought the worst. Another woman he let down came to mind. Though in Pamela’s case, she was innocent. At least, he wanted to believe that. He had had the same thoughts about Jennifer. When he started dating her, he hadn’t dreamed she’d be mixed up with a terrorist. Damn, he knew better than to get involved with any woman while working a case. Not exactly FBI protocol, but he had done it, and now, he faced being attached to another woman.
He hit his palm against his forehead. You dumb shit.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, son.”
His former boss and mentor stepped up behind him. “Sir.”
“How’s Pamela?”
“She has a lump the size of an egg on the back of her head. I haven’t heard anything else. Did Donald call?”
“Celine called for him. She’s waiting with him until I get there, then she’s heading to Pamela’s bedside where Paul is standing vigil.”
Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. “I hate sitting by idly.”
Hal jammed his thumb toward the door. “Then get back there.”
“Working on it.”
“Jake Gibson.”
Jake and Hal crossed through the hordes of people waiting to be seen to the nurse standing at the doorway. “Agent, I’ve been told that you need to be in the room with Ms. Young.”
“I do.”
“Follow me,” the nurse said, pushing a button on the wall. The doors allowing access to the examination rooms opened. He followed the nurse through the doors to an isolated room at the back of the ER. Two agents flanked the door as he entered the room.
Paul straightened. “Jake.”
Jake nodded, but his eyes stayed on Pamela lying motionless in the bed. A blood pressure cuff strapped to her upper arm, a heart monitor attached to her chest, and an IV plunged into a vein in her arm. “Why isn’t she moving?” Jake hated hospitals. He’d spent too much time in one as an adolescent when his mother was dying of cancer.
“They gave her something to calm her. She was pretty worked up when they brought her in here. Her vitals are fine. They just did a CAT scan to check for head injury. We should get the results shortly.”
Paul returned to the chair beside Pamela’s bed and picked up her hand. “I assume you used your FBI clout to get back here, since you couldn’t even say you’re a close friend.”
Jake’s forehead wrinkled. Paul must not have forgiven him as he thought. “Listen.”
“Don’t, Jake.” Paul met his eyes. “The past is in the past. I don’t like what happened or how I had to bury someone I didn’t even know. Worse, my best friend disappeared on me, but I want to let it all go. You’re here now, and I’m assuming you’re planning to stay.”
This sounded more like the Paul he knew. “I am.”
“Good. Now that I’ve forgiven you, you might want to think about forgiving yourself.”
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Jennifer for one thing.”
Jake drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I should have protected her.”
“You can’t protect someone who rubs elbows with a terrorist.”
Jake flinched. He hadn’t thought about it that way. “I don’t know.”
“What? Have you gone soft? She duped you, a trained agent, into believing she was the perfect woman for you. I know you say she wanted out of the organization, but…” Paul shook his head. “I don’t believe it. A person doesn’t break bread with a man like Sanjar and expect to leave. Hell, Jake, she fucked him and you. Literally!”
Jake stiffened. “This isn’t a good location for this conversation.”
“I’m done with my lecture.” Paul released Pamela’s hand and crossed the room. He stopped a foot in front of Jake. “Don’t let what the woman did to you fuck you up,” he said, poking Jake in the chest to emphasize his point, “I’m gonna get some coffee. Want one?”
“Coffee will do,” he sighed, wishing for something else.
Paul opened the door and paused. “They frown on alcohol here. Otherwise, I’d get us a fifth of bourbon.”
Jake watched the door slowly close behind his brother. He might not like what Paul had to say, but he knew Paul only had his best interest in mind. He turned around and looked at Pamela. She hadn’t moved. Settling into the seat Paul had vacated, he slid her hand into his.
He shouldn’t be in the room with her, but outside in the hallway with the other agents. A suspect in a case, combined with being one of his brother’s best friends, was not the ideal woman for him. In spite of that, when she had kissed him in the alley with so much passion, he had been thrown off balance.
All hospitals were the same no matter their location, and no matter when they were built. Every room had a feeling of dread. This room, like so many others, had the essentials, but this room was smaller than most. And to top it off, there were no windows. They couldn’t chance another attempt on Pamela.
Jake’s eyes flicked to her lips, which now appeared dry. He removed the sponge from the cup of water nearby and dabbed her lips, mirroring the movements he had done for his mother.
The door opened, and warily Celine forged inside. A look in Pamela’s direction, and Celine’s face pinched, the effects of the day taking a toll on her. Dark circles outlined her eyes, and the whites of them were tinted pink. Her blonde hair that had been pulled up neatly in a ponytail fell around her neck. Her eyes flicked to Jake.
He put the sponge back in the cup and moved aside. “Here, have a seat.”
Celine remained standing. Her lower lip trembled as she held back tears.
Paul returned, carrying a tray of coffee. “I thought you might be here.” He passed Celine a cup, then Jake. “How’s Marge?”
“She’s still in surgery. Hal arrived, so I left,” Celine replied.
“Is Donald holding up okay?”
Celine’s manner equaled her melancholy countenance as she tugged on a strand of hair. “It’s as if you’ve always been here, but yet haven’t actually been here.”
The woman didn’t make sense, another result of what happened this evening. “I’ve only been gone a few years.”
“Celine,” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s up?”
Relieved to be free of Celine’s scrutiny, Jake bowed his head. He wasn’t sure why the expression on the woman’s face unnerved him.
“I’m trying to make sense of everything tonight,” Celine responded to Paul.
“That won’t happen.” Paul let his hand fall to his side.
Celine glanced at Jake. “Can you explain?”
“No.”
She plopped into the chair Jake offered her a second ago and tucked her chin. “I wish Steve was here. If he were, this wouldn’t have happened.”
The jab Celine sent his way landed right in the stomach. She held him responsible for Pamela and Marge’s injuries.
“Celine!” Plainly, Paul didn’t share her opinion. “That’s not fair. The FBI had the café surrounded.”
Jake slid a finger across his jaw. Celine did have a point. How could anyone infiltrate the FBI line? “I’ve got to go.”
Paul blocked his path. “Where are you headed?”
“To the Bureau to get answers.”
Paul followed Jake’s gaze. Celine stared at her fingers in her lap. “Don’t worry about her. She just misses Steve, especially now.”
“Are those two an item?”
“Not that they’ll admit to.”
“Call if something changes. I’ll be back later.”
Paul nodded and Jake noted Pamela hadn’t moved. Calming medicine or not, it was unsettling.
****
The scene that had unfolded a short time ago at The Memory Café grated on his nerves. Where in the hell were the agents watching the business? Jake charged inside the building that housed the Fredericksburg FBI office. He wanted answers now.
Once he received word through his earpiece that Black Scorpions were on the street, he knew the outcome wouldn’t be good. The agents outside the café should have stopped the shooters.
He didn’t believe Sanjar would have the Black Scorpions performing such a menial job. A businesswoman suspected of having bearer bonds in her possession would bring Sanjar into the limelight. The terrorist hated attention. There had to be something else, someone who wanted the police to think Sanjar stood behind this scheme.
Jake scratched his head. He needed to contact his informant and find out where he received his information. In the past, Jake could trust what he had to say. This time, he believed the twenty year old misled him.
For once, it appeared that Sanjar was the one being set up. This idea brought on another set of problems. Whoever had sent the Black Scorpions to shoot up the café had to have a time and location, which meant a man was working on the inside of the Bureau. Someone, probably Larry, would have to call Internal Affairs. Jake detested IA bureaucracy. The men in that department were good guys, but when an IA case developed, it would put the agents on edge. They wouldn’t trust each other, which was not an ideal situation in this line of work. Trust was everything.
Once inside the department, Jake knocked on Larry’s office door once, then advanced inside without a welcome.
Surprised, Larry looked up from his desk and pushed the paperwork aside. “Jake.”
Jake got straight to the point. “The Black Scorpions have set up camp in Fredericksburg. Not one, but several members of the gang are in town. They’ve set their sights on Pamela Young.”
Larry leaned back in his chair.
He wanted to punch someone. Larry must have realized this, since he remained quiet, not giving Jake any reason for him to be the recipient. Jake continued his rant. “After what happened this evening, it can’t be a coincidence. They’re here for a reason. You should have told me this bit of information.” Disdain laced his voice.
Larry straightened, crossed to the front of his desk, then leaned against it. “Jake, you know the drill. I can only say what I know.”
“Bullshit, Larry. Bullets peppered the front of that café. People could have died. One still might. Marge is fighting…” His mouth went firm as he regained his composure. “She’s fighting for her life.”
Larry folded his arms across his chest. “I heard. The Director’s there now. He’ll call when he receives word. Is Ms. Young doing okay? When I called MaryWashingtonHospital an hour ago, they said she was resting.”
Jake’s fingers slid through his hair. “Her vitals are stable.” Jake wanted to avoid talking about Pamela stretched out in a hospital bed, motionless, helpless. He despised the image that formed in his mind at the mention of her name. He needed to keep himself occupied and concentrate on something else. “Larry, there’s more you’re not telling me.”
“Nope.”
“How are the agents?”
“One was fatally wounded at the scene. The others are in the hospital. There’s no rea
son to believe they won’t make a full recovery.”
Jake slumped into a chair.
“Concerning the Scorpions, you spotted one of their motorcycles in town in the past twenty-four hours and didn’t suspect a branch of the gang had arrived.” Larry’s face turned red, matching his hair.
Jake shuffled his feet.
“In addition, there has been no information on the Black Scorpion gang being in this part of the region. I know that Sanjar is still in another country. He’s under surveillance.”
“What if the Black Scorpions are working for someone else?”
Larry scrubbed his jaw. “Good question. Ever since I received word as to what transpired at The Memory Café, I’ve been wondering the same thing. Shooting inside a business isn’t Sanjar’s usual MO.”
“No, however, he did kill a woman in broad daylight.”
Larry cocked his head and twisted his mouth. “I think we both agree that Jennifer Glass is nothing like Pamela Young. The fact that she’s friends with one of our agents proves this.” Larry waved a dismissing hand. “We don’t need to go there.”
“No, we don’t.”
Larry continued, “Concerning Ms. Young, I can think of two possibilities that we might be up against. One, Pamela does have the bearer bonds unbeknownst to her. We need to get the searches done ASAP. I’ll send some men to see what they can find. When she’s better, she’ll need to take a lie detector test.” Larry raised his hand, stopping Jake from commenting. “It’s a formality. We don’t want anyone saying we treated her differently because she’s the daughter of the Director’s best friend.”
“I agree.”
“And the second possibility, someone is using Sanjar for their purposes, getting the monkey off their back, so to speak.”
With a crisp nod, Jake added, “There could be a third. We have a leak in-house.”
Larry returned to his chair. “I thought of that too. I already called IA. There’s a man on his way over. He’ll be working on the case with you.”
“Did the Director approve it? He wanted this to be a low-profile case.”