Page 74 of Rogue Voice

Griffin and Slate exchanged a glance. “We know. He tried to get the drop on us. Rahmer shot him.”

“He’s dead?”

“Not yet,” Slate said. “But he might wish he were, when he wakes up.”

“Put pressure here,” Griffin said. Rogue wondered who they were talking to in such an urgent voice.

37

Bea

Agent Rahmer insisted on driving Bea to the hospital. Bea agreed, though she wanted nothing more than to jump into the back of the ambulance with Rogue and Thorne, because Slate had promised he’d stay with both men and keep her updated, and because she hadn’t been sure if she’d be allowed to leave or if the police would detain her.

Bea knew she was a victim here, but she wasn’t stupid. She was also Emiliano Cruz’s niece, and she’d been found in a shipping container with his dead body. There was no reason for the police men and women swarming the docks to trust her or believe in her innocence.

In the end, it was Rahmer and Griffin who had solved the problem. Griffin had made it clear he would be the one staying behind with Cruz’s body—for that Bea was grateful, becausethe thought of going back inside the shipping container was more than she could bear. Emergency services personnel had bandaged Bea’s wrists, and then Agent Rahmer had insisted Bea needed to be checked out at the hospital.

The way Rahmer drove, Bea thought they might actually make it to the hospital before the ambulance. She watched the streets fly by as Rahmer floored it through another red light, her hands steady and relaxed around the steering wheel.

She hadn’t tried to speak to Bea or question her, and for that Bea was a relief. She knew she’d have a lot to answer for, but right now all she could think about were the two men in the ambulance. Three, if you counted Dark, since Slate had told her he was also at the hospital and had been since Roberts attacked them in the hotel room.

“I don’t actually need a doctor,” Bea said, finally, as Rahmer raced through an amber light. She was starting to wonder if the Interpol agent might be colorblind.

“I know,” the woman said gruffly. “But it was the quickest way to get you out of there. Consider it a first apology. We’re not all bad apples.”

“First?”

“There will be other apologies coming your way. Quiet, unofficial ones, of course. Nobody will want to admit a DEA agent could have been working with Emiliano Cruz for years without the international intelligence community knowing anything about it.”

Bea shuddered. She didn’t understand herself how this could have happened without any of Roberts’s colleagues knowing. But then, she’d lived with her uncle for years, and she hadn’t known any of his business associates either.

Her uncle.The last family she’d had left in the world. The bloodless, crumpled up body she’d left behind was the last family she’d had.A man who would have sold you to anotherman. A man who would have raped you.The thought of how close he’d come to doing so made her gag. If Thorne hadn’t been there to delay things … if Rogue hadn’t arrived when he did …

“Do you need me to stop the car?” Agent Rahmer said mildly. There was no surprise and no judgment in her tone. Bea shook her head. She had to get to the hospital. Even though Slate had assured her Rogue would be fine, she had to see with her own eyes. She had to be there for him when he woke up.

“Will they let me in to see Rogue?” she asked, suddenly fearful.

“Let me take care of that,” Agent Rahmer replied, a small smile playing on her thin lips.

Apetite, blonde doctor met them at the entrance to the hospital. She greeted Bea with a quick nod, then took Agent Rahmer’s hand in hers and gave brought it to her mouth to kiss. Bea’s eyebrow arched up in surprise.

“Beatriz, meet Dr. Raines. My wife.”

“Come with me,” the doctor said, already whisking Bea through the imposing emergency room doors. “This way.” Bea turned back to look at Agent Rahmer.

“I told you I’d help you,” Agent Rahmer said. “I’ll wait here. I have a few calls to make.”

The thick, cloying smell of disinfectant filled Bea’s lungs, reminding her of the way her father’s body had smelled when she’d said goodbye to him.

“Are you alright?” the petite doctor asked.

Bea swallowed compulsively, struggling to think over the voice hissing in her head, telling her that if Rogue died, it wouldall be her fault. “I’m okay,” she lied. Shehadto see Rogue. No matter what. And telling the doctor about the voices in her head wasn’t the way to accomplish that.

“Third door to the right,” the doctor said. “He’s been asking about you.”

“Thank you,” Bea said, realizing how weak the words sounded. “For … for helping me.” The doctor said a quick farewell, and then Bea was through the door, and into a room that was barely more than a small stall.

Fear filled her at the thought of what she might find, but she forced herself to look up. Then she blinked. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t to see Rogue, naked from the waist up, sitting on the stretcher, tugging at the IV line in his arm.

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