Page 83 of Letting Go
She nods. “That sounds about right. Can you call Savannah quickly before one of them freaks her out?”
The paramedics move Vivian out of the ambulance, and I’m briefly forced to let go of her hand as we walk into the hospital. Following Vivian, I pull up Savannah’s number and wait as it connects while ignoring the multiple notifications of incoming text messages from every male in the Callahan family. I quickly explain to Savannah what’s going on just as her brothers show up at her house to take their nieces out for an ice cream date.
“I have a lot of questions but I’m trying to stay calm for the little girls in the next room, Walker. I expect answers to everything when I arrive,” Savannah quietly admonishes me before ending the call.
“We’re protective of one another,” Vivian tells me when I relay what her sister said as she takes my hand again. “It’s not like you shot me, so try not to take it personally.”
Thereminder of why we’re at the hospital makes me feel a fresh murderous level of rage. I’ve seen plenty of bullet wounds between my time with the 75th Ranger Regiment and my career as an FBI agent, and while I’m not a doctor, I’m pretty sure the paramedics were right that Vivian’s bullet wound is a minor flesh wound. But the fact she even has a minor injury is infuriating. My phone continues to vibrate as Vivian is wheeled on the gurney toward an exam room in the emergency department. I continue to ignore the notifications of her brothers and dad blowing up my phone.
“Sir, you need to wait in the hall unless you are an immediate family member,” a crotchety nurse tells me as she tries to separate Vivian from me. The paramedics guide Vivian into an exam room, forcing me to release my hand from hers once again as medical personnel rush into the room. Annoyed that Vivian is no longer in my line of sight, I pull my badge out from my pocket without saying a word and once she reads the letters F-B-I, I raise one eyebrow and step around her to enter the exam room.
“Walker? Where’s Walker?” I can hear Vivian call for me as doctors and nurses are working on her bullet wound.
“I’m right here, baby,” I tell her as I take her left hand and stand near her head out of the way of the medical professionals, but close enough she can see me. I softly push the hair off her face, holding her check as she leans into my touch. The doctors confirm the bullet was indeed a through and through, but it did clip the edge of some muscle so they will need imaging to make sure there wasn’t any damage that would require surgery. Soon after the pain medicine kicks in, her sister walks into the exam room.
“Vivi girl, I’m here, honey.” Savannah pushes through to get to her sister. Vivian leans her head toward her sister but does not let go of my hand.
“Is Eloise okay? She didn’t overhear anything, did she?” Of course, Vivian’s first thought is of her daughter. She is such a good mama.
Savannah shakes her head. “No, the girls thought it was super fun to have a surprise ice cream date with their uncles. I’m sure they will have way too much sugar, but none of the girls know anything happened yet.”
“I would like to keep it that way until I can tell Eloise myself. I need her to see I’m okay, especially after everything else,” Vivian tells her sister. We’re all aware of the nightmares Eloise has struggled with since her father’s murder.
“Of course, we’ll do whatever you want. What else do you need, honey?” Savannah asks as she runs her hand over Vivian’s hair. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Vivian shakes her head before the doctor prevents her from saying anything else.
“Ms. Stone, we need to get some imaging done of your arm to make sure there aren’t any bullet fragments left,” the doctor explains. “As long as it was a clean shot, we’ll be able to bandage and suture the wound but if there are any fragments, especially in the edge of the muscle that was hit, we may need to go in and surgically clean the bullet trajectory. Depending on what we see on the scan, we’ll either bring you back to an exam room or have to go right into surgery. Alright folks, prepare the patient to be transported to imaging.”
“Can they come with me?” Vivian asks one of the nurses as the team quickly prepares to move her out of this exam room.
“One of them may come with you but that individual will need to wait outside the imaging room, while the other waits in the lobby,” Nurse Crotchety from earlier answers, emphasizing the word lobby. Vivian looks from me to her sister with her eyes wide, panicking at having to pick between us, but I can make this decision easy on her.
“Savannah, why don’t you go with your sister, and I’ll go talk to my team, okay?” I look at her sister. Savannah nods, reaching out to squeeze my arm in thanks, clearly relieved I wasn’t asking her to step away from her sister. “Savannah will keep me in the loop until you know more, and I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” I tell Vivian.
She nods but I can tell Vivian doesn’t want me to go. I lean down close to her ear so we have a little privacy before saying, “I promise I’m not leaving town. I will be back, okay? I won’t be far, and you can reach me on my cell if you need anything, and I mean anything at all, okay, Sugar?” My lips gently brush her temple with a soft kiss. Vivian squeezes my hand and looks up to me as she nods, but I hate that her eyes are once again glossy from unshed tears.
“I’ve got our girl, Walker. Go take care of business, and hurry back. And when you get back, you can start explaining how the hell my sister got shot in the first place.” Savannah steps in, reminding me although I have to step away, Vivian’s not alone. Reaching into my pocket, I hand Vivian’s phone to Savannah that has been vibrating nonstop with notifications.
“We’re moving people, let’s go,” Nurse Crotchety declares and Vivian’s bed is wheeled out of the exam room toward wherever they do imaging in the emergency department. Before she rounds the corner, Vivian looks back over her shoulder and her gaze locks with mine. In that brief moment, I know my life will never be the same. As they round the corner, I realize she doesn’t just have a piece of my heart—this woman already owns all of it.
Chapter forty-five
Walker
Multiple FBI vehicles are parked in the Sheriff’s parking lot, providing plenty of speculative gossip by the local townsfolk standing on the sidewalk and across the street watching everything unfold as though experiencing a live theater event. I understand how small towns work but I bet even their wildest guesses couldn’t touch the reality of what unfolded today in sleepy little Forrest Falls. Mason meets me at the front door of the station and walks me back to the interrogation rooms where Marcie Clarie Riley is being held.
“Who’s in there with her right now?” I nod toward the door.
“Kelly and Tara have been listening to her rant and rave, but haven’t pushed her yet,” Mason explains. “Harlow is observing behind the glass.
“Has she said anything interesting?”
“That woman is … a piece of work, sir. She had a lot to say about how we were doing our jobs, our lack of manners, the amount of money she pays annually in taxes and her other philanthropic activities. She has yet to say anything about shooting Ms. Stone today or what led to that altercation.” Mason hands me a tablet before telling me, “I think you might want to take a look at these notes real quick before you head in. Since the arrest, I was able to dig a little deeper into her relationship with the Brunos.”
“What did you find?”
“It appears that Angela and Marcie Claire have not only stayed in touch but have had a close friendship for decades. They alsoregularly vacation together with their husbands and even some of their children over the years. The two of them appear to go on an annual shopping trip to Boston each holiday season,” Mason adds.
“I’ve heard her speak, that woman is born and raised in the south. How in the world did Marcie Claire end up at a boarding school in New Jersey?” I ask Mason.
