The fourth floor was dim and quiet. Jake flicked on a light switch, but the power was off. Drop cloths, paint buckets, and the dim shapes of equipment, told him that the floor was being remodeled. It appeared unoccupied at the moment—ideal for the shooter.
Jake ignored his calf dripping blood as he trotted lightly on the balls of his feet to the door that matched the window he’d spotted from the street below. He reached out from the cover of the wall to give the handle a quick twist, just to check if it was open, and the portal swung inward. Jake waited a moment for the rush of feet, the report of a gun, but heard nothing from inside.
He peered around the jamb into an empty, barely furnished apartment. A chair, nightstand and lamp were set up near the window. An empty beer bottle and an open bag of pork rinds gave testimony to the shooter’s presence, but the brass from the rounds had been picked up.
The guy had probably been taking the stairs while Jake took the elevator.
He tried not to be too frustrated—it was a fifty-fifty gamble, one way or the other. Time to let the cops do their job. He looked down at the beer bottle.Careless. The shooter had picked up his brass, but likely left prints.
Jake called 911 again to inform the officers about his discovery.
He was told to wait for their arrival, and Jake was finally ready to sit down and take the weight off of his injured leg.
Then he called Sophie. The call went straight to voicemail. “Soph. Hey. I got shot in the leg across the street from our office building. It’s not terrible, but I’m gonna need a hospital visit.” His voice wavered as his gaze fell on the beer bottle. “Looks like the shooter left some evidence behind. I’m thinking it’s Akane Chang. Call me. I need to know that you’re safe.”
He slid the phone back into his pocket.
The cops burst in, and all was chaos until he was able to establish that he was both the victim and the 911 tipster.
“Why didn’t you stay in the street?” The uniformed cop holding a gun on him asked. “You probably scared the assailant off.”
“The shooter took two shots and cut his losses.” Jake said. “I would have caught him if I’d taken the stairs. Bag that bottle and check for prints.”
The cop scowled. He flicked a glance at Jake’s buff, naked torso. “Who do you think you are? Rambo? Shut up,haole.I’d still like to bring you in.”
The EMTs had finally arrived, and by then, Jake was ready to let them strap him on a gurney and haul him away.
“Call Detective Freitan!” Jake yelled from the gurney. “Tell her to look for the bullet that got my leg over on the street by the Impala. You might be able to match it to a weapon in the system.”
None of the local cops, eyeing him suspiciously as if he’d somehow brought this on himself, appeared inclined to listen.
Jake shut his eyes as he was wheeled onto the elevator he’d come up on, slightly alarmed by the amount of blood he’d trailed through the building. That was going to be a bitch to clean up.They’d probably send him a bill…
He must have passed out, because getting his pants cut off in the Emergency Room brought him around with a groan.Where was Sophie? Was she safe?
“Who should we call for you, sir?” the intake nurse asked, pen poised over a clipboard as the tech yanked him to and fro, hacking at his bloody combat pants with a pair of shears.
“Call my office. Tell Felicia to notify our supervisor, Kendall Bix, on Oahu. And have her call Sheldon Hamilton from my company—he’s the big boss, and he’s on island.” Jake’s brain felt too fuzzy to recall the numbers, so he fumbled the phone out of his pocket and read them off.
“Any family to call?” The woman persisted. “You’ll need someone to give you a ride home if you’re not admitted.”
“No family.” Jake’s belly tightened at the way the words sounded.Sophie was the closest person he had to family. “My relatives are on the Mainland. They can’t help.” He checked his phone again, and this time noticed a text from Sophie. She was on Kaua`i, and she’d left Ginger for him to care for in his apartment.
Sophie was talking to Alika.Good.She’d be safe, for the moment, away from here.
Jake tried not to imagine how that difficult talk was going. Was she even going to come back to the Big Island? Or would she just—stay with the guy? He hadn’t given her much reason to return, and even with this latest crisis, he still wasn’t sure how to move forward.
Better she left him now if she and Alika were having a baby together… Jake clenched a fist. Waiting to know something had never been so hard.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood in spite of this improvised tourniquet,” the doc said, once the pants were out of the way and she was assessing the wound in his calf. “I’m going to need to stitch this up, and it’s going to take a while. Need something for the pain?”
“Hell yeah. Bring on the meds.” Jake shut his eyes and awaited blessed relief.
Several hours later,Felicia wheeled him out of the ER toward her car, a new VW Bug in bright blue with surf racks on top. “I can’t believe you don’t have someone else to call. Where’s Sophie?”
“She had to go off island on personal business.” Jake’s head felt too heavy to hold up and his tongue was thick in his mouth. The doc had been on the verge of admitting him, but Jake had insisted on going home—the dogs were trapped in the condo.He had to get back to them.
He gave Felicia the apartment building’s address, and soon she was helping him up the stairs and into the building, her petite frame wedged under his armpit, holding him up surprisingly well. Clearly the girl worked out a lot, as if her sexy shorts and strong arms hadn’t already told him that.