Page 50 of Chasing a Kidnapper

Now she was anxious to get back to the safe house. “We should have considered that option before now.” She mentally kicked herself for the lapse and immediately used her phone to search for any South Dakota robbery reports.

“I agree, I have not been doing my best here,” West said.

“You’re doing great, and considering how often we’ve been dodging bullets, it’s amazing we’ve been able to find anything at all.” She felt bad for speaking about the lapse out loud.

Several hits about robberies came up from her search, but as she began scrolling through them, her brief surge of hope evaporated. Most of them were small-time stuff—shoplifting from stores, holding up gas stations or personal car-jacking robberies.

In many cases the perps had been caught as being drug addicts searching for money to supply their drug habit. There was a string of armed gas station robberies in which there had been no arrests yet.

Could Bryan have committed them? Her ex had never owned a gun, but what did she really know about him, anyway?

Not nearly as much as she’d thought.

As West pulled into the driveway of the safe house, she gave up her search. It may be easier to do on a laptop, anyway, accessing the criminal database for specific unsolved cases.

West pulled into the garage, then shut down the engine. By the time he had Peanut out of the back, she was already stepping inside the house.

“Laurel?” She didn’t call out too loudly, unwilling to wake Gabriel in case he was sleeping.

There was no answer. Maybe Laurel was taking a well-deserved nap, too. She walked into the kitchen, then frowned when she saw Laurel stretched out on the sofa.

Her friend groaned, her eyelids fluttering open. Trisha rushed to her side, noting how pale Laurel was. “What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t feel well,” Laurel whispered. “I got Gabriel down, though, and hoped you’d get here soon.” She moaned again, putting a hand to her left side. “My back is killing me.”

“Your kidney?” Trisha battled a wave of guilt and helplessness. “We need to get you back to the hospital.”

“I hate leaving you,” Laurel whispered. The fact that the tough cop wasn’t arguing about being examined by medical staff told Trisha everything she needed to know.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” she said, pulling out her phone.

“No, please, just have West drive me.” Laurel grimaced. “Ambulance companies charge over a thousand dollars for a one-way trip.”

That seemed outrageous, but just then West came over. “What’s wrong?”

“She needs to go to the hospital and wants you to drive her.” Trisha put a hand on Laurel’s head, somewhat relieved she wasn’t running a fever. Then she checked her pulse. Fast, but steady. That was also reassuring. She nodded at West, silently agreeing with the plan to drive her, rather than calling 911.

“We’ll go right now,” West said. “I’ll leave Peanut here.”

“Thanks. Come on, Laurel. Let’s get you to the car.”

Her friend managed to stand, making her way to the car on her own two feet, although her features were pinched with pain. Trish watched with concern and sent up silent prayers for healing as West and Laurel drove away.

Despite being armed and a cop, she couldn’t deny a sense of dread at being here alone with Gabriel.

The shooter couldn’t know about Laurel’s relapse, but that didn’t keep her from going from one window to the next, searching for any sign of danger.

FOURTEEN

West drove straight to the hospital, concerned about the way Laurel leaned against the passenger door as if unable to sit upright. “Are you okay?” he asked for the third time.

“Fine.” It was the same response he’d gotten before, but each time her voice was weaker. His SUV was equipped with a narrow band of red and blue lights, but he had avoided using them, not wanting to draw attention to the safe house.

Once he was several blocks away, though, he’d flipped them on to make better time.

When they arrived at the emergency department he ran around to help Laurel out. The triage nurse immediately took Laurel into a small room to do a quick assessment. He waited, knowing Trisha would want answers when he returned.

After a few minutes he was allowed back to Laurel’s room. The older woman looked as if she was in severe pain.

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