you’d better tell me.”
“Keep your voice down,” she instructed with a pointed look at the toddler in her arms now squirming to be set free.
Reining in his frustration, he forced himself to let the questions go. There would be time enough for that later. “I’m taking Georgina into protective custody.”
In a low voice, she asked, “So you do think Christina’s responsible for her husband’s death?”
“I do.”
She nodded as if satisfied with his answer. “Do you have a car seat?”
His stomach sank. He hadn’t expected to find Christina much less the toddler. “No.”
“I do. So I guess we’ll be taking my car.”
She’d come prepared. Why? The question hovered on the tip of his tongue, but a strange sense of urgency tingled at the base of Ryan’s neck. Pushing back his need for answers, he said, “We need to go.”
“No one’s going anywhere!” A woman’s nasal voice invaded the room.
Meghan let out a gasp of alarm.
Ryan whipped around and found Christina Hennessy filling the doorway. The once-polished socialite now looked harried—her usually perfect blond hair mussed and her slacks and blouse wrinkled as if she hadn’t changed clothes in several days. An almost wild fervor glittered in her green eyes setting off alarm bells in Ryan’s head.
But the .38 revolver she held aimed at Meghan froze his blood.
A woman on the edge with a gun. A bad combination.
Beside her stood a muscle-bound thug with a nasty-looking scar running down the side of his face.
Anger directed mostly at himself shuddered through Ryan. He’d been so distracted by Meghan and the ridiculous soft emotions she had inspired that he’d let his guard down. He hadn’t heard danger approaching. His instincts had kicked in too late.
His skills were rusty. Too much time spent at a desk and not out in the field.
Where was Jackson? Ryan could only hope the rookie wasn’t lying dead outside.
Time to take control. Rapidly assessing the situation, he decided the best option was to keep everyone calm and his service weapon holstered. The quarters were too tight, the chances of someone getting hurt too great. He’d have a better opportunity of disarming Christina and dealing with her thug outside.
He slowly raised his hands in entreaty as he stepped in Christina’s line of sight. Hopefully, he provided an effective shield for Meghan and the toddler. “Let’s stay calm and talk about this.”
“Give me the kid!” Christina demanded, gesturing the gun with jerky movements.
“No one’s giving anyone anything.” Except for when you give me that gun.
Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest. Fear that she might accidently shoot one of them squeezed his lungs. He forced himself to remain calm, to sound composed. “Put down the gun, Mrs. Hennessy.”
Her lips drew back, baring sharp white teeth. “You’re a Fitzgerald. What are you doing here?”
“We were worried about Georgina.” Ryan eased forward a step.
Christina stepped to the side. “She’s fine. We’re all fine.”
Ryan mirrored her move. “Mrs. Hennessy, we need you to come in to the station house. We have some questions to ask you about Burke’s death.”
She frowned. “I’ve answered all your questions. I’m the one who found him.”
There was something decidedly off about this woman. Ryan knew he wasn’t dealing with a rational person. Best to appease her and keep this from turning into a deadly situation. “Yes, you did. We have just a few more things to clear up. Then you and Georgina can be reunited.”
Christina jerked slightly. “Move out of the way,” she cried. “I want the baby.”
Odd how she kept referring to Georgina in such a distant manner. Not sure what to make of it, Ryan glanced at Meghan holding the now fussy toddler.
“Fine,” Ryan said, keeping his voice low and composed. “We can all move into the living room, okay? It’s a little cramped in here.”
Instead of retreating, Christina moved fully into the small bedroom. The thug hovered near the door, blocking them in.
“Out,” Christina said, motioning wildly with the gun.
A fresh wave of alarm that she’d discharge a stray shot rammed through him. He had to get Meghan and the toddler out safely. Keeping his arms wide and moving slowly, he reached his hand back. “Meghan, come here.”
Shifting the eighteen-month-old onto her hip, she eased toward him, slipped her hand into his and held on tight. Making sure he stayed consistently between Meghan clutching the baby and the madwoman with the gun, he moved them toward the door.
“Tell Muscles here to get out of the way,” he instructed.
The thug made a threatening growl low in his throat.
Christina snorted. “Go on, Jay. Lead them out.”
With a scowl, Jay led them back down the hall. Ryan positioned Meghan and Georgina in front of him and hustled them toward the living room. Christina filed in behind Ryan, ramming the muzzle of the gun sharply into his kidneys.
For a second he contemplated disarming the woman now, but if she got off a shot and missed him, the bullet could hit Meghan or the baby. A risk he wasn’t willing to take. He had to be patient. There would be a moment to strike.
He leaned in close to Meghan and whispered, “Be ready. Protect the baby.”
Her honey-blond hair tickled his cheek as she nodded.
In the living room, Jay barred the exit with his massive frame.
Helen Yorke lay in an unconscious heap on the floor. Horror shot through him. He sent up a silent plea, praying she wasn’t dead. He didn’t want anyone’s death on his conscience.
Georgina let out an unhappy wail.
Meghan made a distressed sound at the sight of Helen. “What did you do to her?”
Christina cackled, an unhinged sound that raised the fine hairs at the back of Ryan’s neck.
“She’ll be fine. Jay has his uses.” Christina attempted to step around Ryan toward Meghan, and Ryan could see Helen begin to stir. “Give me the child.”
Noting that Christina’s finger wasn’t on the trigger, Ryan seized the opportunity. He grabbed hold of the gun but also Christina’s hand and swung her away from Meghan.
Christina’s hold on the gun slipped. The revolver clattered to the floor and
