He had her jacket off and was checking for an entrance wound when she moaned and opened her eyes.
“Tried to kill me,” she whispered.
“Who tried to kill you!” Nick asked.
She grabbed his wrist so hard her nails dug into the skin.
“Help me.”
“We’ve got you, ma’am. You’re at the police station. What’s your name?”
“The baby?”
“Your baby’s okay,” Nick said.
“Not my baby,” she mumbled and passed out again.
“Daniels! Check for any kind of identification on the baby. She said he wasn’t hers,” Nick said, as he went through the pockets of the jacket they’d taken off of her. They were empty.
“I wanted this to be an easy end to this shift, but no. It’s nearly midnight and the Fourth of July. Who was I kidding?” Daniels muttered.
“Paramedics on the way,” Murphy shouted.
A few minutes later two medical teams came running into the room. One team headed for the sleeping baby while the other one began to assess the woman.
Nick stood off to the side watching them work, but every few seconds his gaze would go back to her face. He couldn’t shake the feeling he should know her, but he couldn’t think of her name.
He was still trying to place her when the medical teams loaded up both victims and headed for the ambulances.
“Hey! Where are you taking her?” Nick called.
“Centennial Hill Hospital,” one of them said, and then they were gone.
Nick ran back to his desk, got his handgun out of the drawer and slipped it in the shoulder holster beneath his jacket.
“Someone tell Lieutenant Summers what’s going down. I’ll follow to the hospital,” Nick said. “Maybe I can get some more of the story before they take her to surgery. Daniels, notify Social Services about the baby. They need to send someone to the hospital.”
“Will do,” Daniels said and headed for the phone.
Nick followed the paramedics down the hall and then out of the building. When he saw a big Harley parked in front of the precinct, he guessed it was hers. He called back to the office.
“Homicide.”
“Murphy, it’s me. There’s a big black Harley parked in front of the precinct. Have it checked for ID and then have it towed. Their crime-scene analysts need to run it for prints.”
“Will do,” Murphy said.
Nick jumped in his car and, despite the noise of the ongoing holiday celebrations, ran lights and siren all the way to Centennial Hill.
* * *
Because of his missing windshield, there was no way Dev could drive into the city without getting stopped by local police. He cruised past a couple of bars on the outskirts of Las Vegas until he found one with a classier clientele. He pulled into the parking lot, ditched his car and within a few minutes found one unlocked and a man passed out in the front seat. He dragged the man out of the car, propped him up against the back of the Lucky Joe’s Casino between two Dumpsters and took off.
By the time he got back on the streets, he’d obviously lost his target. There was nothing he could do but keep moving down the main drag and hope for the best. One minute passed into another, and just when he was beginning to think he was done, he saw the motorcycle weaving through traffic at a fast clip.
The knot in his belly eased. Pissing Anton Baba off was never a good risk and not coming back with his son could be a deadly error.
He followed the biker through every twist and turn, hoping for a chance to get rid of her and grab the kid, but with the traffic he couldn’t get nearly close enough to them. He didn’t realize she was heading to the police station until it was too late to stop her, and she was inside by the time he parked. He picked a place where he could watch the front entrance, then made a quick call to Anton to let him know his son was still alive.
* * *
Ian pulled up to the gates at the Baba estate and keyed the number pad to let himself in. He could hear Anton’s woman kicking and screaming in the trunk and was somewhat worried that he didn’t have the kid, as well.
As the gates swung inward, he sped up the drive and around the mansion to the delivery entrance in back. He’d already called to let Baba know he was on the way and was not surprised to see the man himself standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights behind him.
* * *
“Well, where are they?” Baba asked, as Ian got out of the car and headed to the back of the car and opened the trunk.
Star had cried all the way into the city, so by the time the trunk was opened, her eyes were nearly swollen shut, her bloody back was visible, and she was screaming.
Anton was shocked at the condition she was in, and the fact that the baby was missing was even more troubling.
“Where is my son?” Anton shouted, but she wouldn’t stop screaming.
“Get her inside!” he said and strode back into the house.
Ian picked her up and followed his boss through the house to the library.
“Put her down,” Anton said.
Ian dropped her on the floor at Anton’s feet, ignoring her low moan of pain.
Anton looked at her in disgust.
“So she is here, but where is my son?” he asked.
Star was sobbing uncontrollably as she rolled over on her hands and knees and dragged herself upright.
“You killed our son!” she screamed and launched herself at Anton, hammering at his chest with her fists. “They shot at us over and over. We wrecked. Why? Why? If you didn’t want us anymore, why didn’t you just let us go?”
Anton reeled. Sammy was dead?
“No, no, that can’t be,” he moaned, then turned on Ian. “What did I tell you to do?”
“Find them and bring them back,” Ian muttered.
Star was playing the grieving mother to the hilt and nailed Anton again.
“Why do you care? You were going to sell me. I heard you! I couldn’t lose my baby, and then you let them shoot at us! Just because you didn’t want him doesn’t mean I didn’t either. He was my life! He was a part of you! I thought we mattered. I thought we were a family! If you hadn’t been such a miserable greedy bastard, none of this would have happened. I hate you, I hate you,” she sobbed and then collapsed at his feet.
For one of the
