She leaned her face into his palm. ‘Yes.’ Then she smiled at him and he knew she spoke the truth. ‘I’m even better now that you’re not sitting next to . . . that. Come.’ She half turned, placing her hand at the small of his back. Just a small touch, but here, in the bowels of CPD headquarters, a big deal. ‘Marcus, this is my dad, Lieutenant Jonas Bishop. Dad, Marcus.’
Marcus stretched out his hand. ‘Lieutenant. It’s good to meet you. Scarlett has told me good things.’
The man didn’t hesitate, shaking Marcus’s hand with a firm grip that didn’t try to intimidate. Marcus appreciated that.
‘Likewise,’ Bishop said gruffly.
Marcus knew this was an important moment, the first impression that would shape her father’s opinion for the years to come. He did not want that impression to be one of a man too weak to hold his own. ‘Likewise it’s good to meet me or likewise that Scarlett said good things?’
Bishop’s lips twitched. ‘Yes.’
‘All right then.’ Marcus released the man’s hand. ‘What do I call you? Lieutenant? Mr Bishop? Jonas? And please don’t say “Yes”.’
Bishop shot his daughter an amused look. ‘Jonas will do. I think he’ll be okay, Scarlett. I have to get home. Your mother has a pot roast in the oven. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. Both of you. I’m sure your mom would like to see you. Both of you.’
Scarlett shook her head. ‘I’ve got some files to review. But maybe after I’m done we’ll stop by for coffee, if it’s not too late. I’ll probably need to . . . vent.’
She meant the McCord files, Marcus knew. That wasn’t going to be easy. That she’d go to her father for support afterward . . . This was good.
‘It’s never too late, Scarlett,’ Jonas said, his voice gone gruff once again. ‘Day or night. You call me.’
‘I will.’ Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him. ‘Thank you.’
Jonas’s arms locked tightly around her, as if he was afraid she’d run away. ‘Don’t you dare thank me, Scarlett Anne,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t you dare.’
Marcus didn’t know what had passed between the two, but his throat thickened. He stepped back, grateful for the sudden buzzing of his cell phone that gave him an excuse to give them some privacy.
He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw Diesel’s caller ID. No one had heard from him since he’d taken off running from the Meadow a few hours before. ‘Hey, man. You okay?’ he asked.
‘Marcus.’ Diesel’s voice was shaking. Thick.
He was crying. Oh God. Marcus’s knees wobbled as all the blood rushed from his face. He sank into a chair. ‘What’s wrong?’
Scarlett abruptly turned at the panic in his voice. Pulling from her father’s embrace, she sank to her knees next to Marcus’s chair, her hand gripping his thigh. ‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know.’ All he could hear was the rasping sound of Diesel’s sobs. ‘Diesel, what happened. You gotta talk to me, man. Where are you?’
‘At the Ledger. They’re gone, Marcus. All gone.’
Marcus’s heart dropped to his gut like lead. ‘I’m going to put you on speaker. Scarlett’s here with me. Take a breath. What do you mean, they’re gone?’
‘They’re dead. Cal, Bridget. Oh God. Stone, too.’
Marcus froze. He couldn’t breathe. From far away he heard Scarlett telling her father to send help to the Ledger building. Then he didn’t hear anything at all.
Cincinnati, Ohio
Wednesday 5 August, 7.30 P.M.
‘Marcus.’ Scarlett took the phone from Marcus’s limp grasp, then gripped his hand in hers. ‘Breathe.’ He was glassy-eyed. In shock. She thumped his chest with her fist, hard. ‘Breathe, goddammit.’
He sucked in a breath, then another. Still unable to speak, he squeezed her hand until she winced, but she didn’t let go.
Her father knelt on the other side of Marcus’s chair. ‘Dispatch has squad cars and ambulances on the way. I’ve notified Isenberg.’
She acknowledged him with a nod of thanks. ‘Diesel,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s Scarlett. Did you hear that? Help is on the way. I need you to stay with me. First of all, are you hurt?’
‘No. I came in to help Cal with the evening . . .’ He choked on another sob, then cleared his throat viciously. ‘I found Jerry first. Dead on the floor in the front. Shot. In the back, Bridget. She was under her desk. Hiding. Cal . . . I slipped in his blood.’
She remembered Diesel’s reaction to Dani Novak’s white coat. He’d obviously had some medical trauma at some point. She kept her voice calm, tried to get him focused. He’d find control if he focused. She hoped. ‘Have you checked for pulses?’
‘No.’ He sucked in another breath, sounding calmer already. ‘I’m doing that now. Cal’s . . . no. Nothing. Stone . . . Oh God. Yes. I got one.’
Scarlett slipped her hand from Marcus’s to grip his chin. ‘Did you hear that?’ she said, making him meet her eyes. ‘Stone’s alive. He is alive.’
Marcus’s lungs emptied in a rush of air, his body trembling. ‘What happened, D?’
‘I don’t know.’ Diesel sounded lost. ‘Someone came in and shot the place up.’
Marcus surged to his feet, holding on to Scarlett’s hands when she tried to push him back into the chair. ‘Where were the guards?’
‘Here. Dead now.’
‘All three of them?’ Marcus demanded.
‘Yeah.’ Sounds of ripping fabric came through the speaker. ‘I’ve got to stop his bleeding. Stone? Hey, Stone. Wake up, buddy. His eyeballs are moving under his lids. Wait. He’s trying to talk.’
Marcus stood stiff as a board, waiting. Scarlett rubbed his back, feeling only Kevlar under his shirt, so she cupped his head in her hands and pulled him down so that his forehead rested against hers.
‘Breathe, baby,’ she whispered. ‘Stone’s tough. You know this.’
‘Fuck.’ Diesel’s voice had edged back into panic. ‘Stone says that he’s got Gayle. He shot everyone else, but he took Gayle.’
Marcus sank back into the chair, his face terrifyingly white. ‘Who? Where?’ He forced the word out. ‘Where did he go?’
‘I don’t know, man. Nobody—’ Diesel cut himself off. ‘Hold on. I hear something.’ They listened to the sound of footsteps, a door opening. ‘Holy shit,’ Diesel breathed in relief. ‘Come on, I need help.’
For several seconds there was nothing but gasps, then screams that faded to whimpers.
‘People!’ Diesel growled. ‘I said I need help. Jill, find some towels. Liam, stop crying and get a blanket and a pillow for Stone. Don’t look over there. You look at me. Got that? Go get the cushion off Stone’s office chair. Go.’
‘Diesel’s back,’ Marcus murmured, then surged to his feet again.
Scarlett grabbed a fistful of his shirt. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Where do you think?’ he snapped.
‘You’re not thinking, Marcus,’ she snapped back. ‘Somebody took Gayle. It may have been this Kenneth Sweeney person. Who do they want? You. Now settle down so we can figure out what to do. Isenberg’s sending people.’
‘Novak and Tanaka,’ her father murmured.
‘You hear that? Deacon is on his way. If there is a whiff of a lead, he’ll find it. If there’s a hair on the floor, Tanaka will find it. So you stay with me for now.’
‘She’s right,’ Diesel said. ‘The ambulance is here,’ he added grimly. ‘I’m . . . Oh, fucking shit.’ He’d started to hyperventilate.
‘It’s okay,’ Marcus said, gritting his teeth. ‘Go to my office, and wait for the cops. Who’s still standing?’