“Swell. The neighbors will be thrilled.”
Alex bit her lip. This was Bonnie at her angriest. Cold, clipped, and distant.
“You sound so calm.”
“Would you rather I fell apart in front of my colleagues?”
“No, it’s just that-”
“Forget it. We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Alex struggled for something to say. “Just be careful. Please.”
“Great advice. Thanks,” Bonnie said and hung up.
Alex pressed against the concrete wall, crunched her eyes, and massaged her temples. An image flashed in her head of Dwayne straddling Bonnie, forcing her legs open, one hand over her mouth, so real she jumped into the middle of the sidewalk, gasping, her heart thumping. Bonnie was safe at the hospital. Alex knew that. But once Bonnie headed for home, all bets were off.
Whatever did happen, she accused herself, was on her. Though Alex understood that wasn’t true in any rational sense, she understood just as well that the rational had little chance against the combination of fear, guilt, and anger boiling her insides.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go back to her office, because she’d have to explain to Robin Norris everything that had happened, and why, in spite of that, she had to continue to represent Dwayne. It was an argument she knew she wouldn’t win. As if on cue, her phone rang again. Caller ID said it was Robin. Alex ignored the call, sighing when the ringing stopped and her phone beeped, flashing a message on her screen that she had one missed call and one missed voice message.
“Crap,” she said, turning the phone off and stuffing it in her pants pocket.
She thought about going home and having the first of several stiff drinks. She didn’t believe in finding courage in the bottom of a bottle, but it would take the edge off. And leave her borderline incoherent, giving Bonnie another reason to be angry and, worse, disappointed at her weakness. Scratch the impulse to get drunk.
There was only one thing she could think of doing. Find Dwayne. Talk to him. Tell him that she knew that he’d threatened Bonnie. Tell him that the police were giving her round-the-clock protection. Tell him that Rossi was looking for an excuse to put a bullet in him. Tell him whatever it took to convince him to stay away from Bonnie and hope he’d let something slip that she could use to get him convicted for the Chapman and Henderson murders. Tell him that she was looking out for his best interests. Be his lawyer. Lie to him. And if none of that worked, do whatever it took to protect Bonnie.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hank Rossi had a plan, and step one was to ignore Mitch Fowler. The idea that a gang of minimum-wage hospital guards could protect Bonnie Long was a joke, almost as big a joke as hoping a patrol car would slow-roll past Bonnie’s house at the exact moment Dwayne Reed was kicking in the front door.
Step two was to go to Truman Medical Center and have a face-to-face with Dr. Long, a reality check in case she had any doubts about who and what she was up against. He’d lay it out for her and give her a choice. Listen to him or be the next name on Reed’s list.
Step three was a come-to-Jesus with Dwayne. He’d poke and prod him until Reed’s manly pride got the better of him. One swing at Rossi and Reed would be back behind bars. Problem solved until some shit-for-brains judge let him out again. At least that would give him time to build a strong enough case against Reed to convince a jury to throw away the key.
Rossi had been to Truman Medical many times to interview witnesses, victims, and suspects, but this was the first time he’d done a threat assessment of the premises. There were multiple entrances to the hospital guarded by nothing besides security cameras, which would only be useful after the fact. If Reed was smart enough to turn his face away from the cameras, assuming someone was actually watching the monitors, he’d have no trouble getting inside undetected.
Once inside, he had the added advantage of knowing where to find Dr. Long. Still, Rossi didn’t think Reed would make his play where there were likely to be witnesses, some of whom might try to stop or capture him.
The parking lot was a different story. Reed could easily hide among the cars, wait for his chance, and put a bullet in Dr. Long without ever being seen. If he wanted to make good on his promise to rape her, he could force his way into her car and make her drive them away. A security guard escort might be enough to get her safely out of the lot unless Reed had lost all control over his killing appetite.
Rossi knew the greater risk was the drive home. Reed could follow her, jacking her car if circumstances were right. But the greatest risk was inside her house, where they would be alone. All Reed had to do was find out where she lived and bide his time. If he had waited this long to kill the Hendersons, he had proved one thing. He was a patient man.
Rossi finished his tour of the parking lot. Satisfied that Reed wasn’t there, he went to the emergency room, stopping at Patient Check-In, where a nurse whose name tag identified him as Eddie Tate was glued to his computer.
“Hey, Eddie.”
Eddie looked up from the computer screen. “Do I know you?
Rossi flashed his badge. “Now you do. Where can I find Dr. Long?”
“This about the guy who threatened her?”
“You know about that?”
“That’s one thing HIPAA doesn’t cover, dude.”
“Just tell me where I can find her.”
“Through the double doors. She’s back there somewhere.”
Rossi stepped through the doors. The emergency room was a large square, with a nurses’ station in the center and patient rooms lining the walls. It was quiet, a nurse coming out of one room and going into another.
A security guard sat on a stool next to a counter at the back of the nurses’ station, his belly flooding his lap, a cup of coffee and a half-eaten Danish on the counter. He was thumbing his smartphone, grinning at the screen. Angry Birds, Rossi guessed.
Bonnie Long stood at a counter at the front of the nurses’ station studying a patient’s chart. Rossi hadn’t paid much attention to her when he arrested Reed. This time was different. He took a moment to assess her, just as he had the premises.
Her long blond hair fell across her face. She pulled it back behind her ear, revealing a beautiful woman, with high cheekbones, alabaster skin, and eyes that even from a distance he could tell were intense. Her posture was erect, poised but not stiff. There was nothing about her that suggested her life was in danger. She was focused on the job at hand, taking care of her patient, not cowering and falling apart like most people would have if it were their turn in the barrel. She struck him as someone who’d have the sense to get out of the line of fire.
“Dr. Long,” Rossi said as he walked toward her.
She turned toward him, her face morphing in an instant from brow-furrowed puzzlement to a nodding flash of recognition to a pressed-lip smile.
“Detective Rossi, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What can I do for you, Detective?”
“I think you know why I’m here.”
“I’ve already been warned about Dwayne Reed, if that’s what you mean.”
“A warning tells you what to be afraid of. It doesn’t tell you what to do about it.”
“I’m not afraid, Detective. The hospital is taking all necessary precautions.”
“Unless I miss my guess, you’re smart enough to be afraid, smart enough not to show it, and smart enough to know the hospital can’t protect you,” Rossi said, tilting his head at the security guard.
Bonnie glanced at the guard, then looked back at Rossi, shaking her head, her face grim, concessions that Rossi was right. She took a quick, deep breath.
“And you can?”
“If you do exactly as I tell you without complaining, asking questions, or telling me that you’ve got a better idea.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m listening.”