Page 51 of Shielding his Legacy
The officer guarding her, Johansson, was a kind man who’d tried to assure her that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t know that any more than she could. He was a rookie—the oldest one on the force. Before the shots, they’d chatted about hometowns and loved ones, even favorite movies. But after the shots, they both listened intently to the radio on his hip, its volume set to a mere whisper.
They heard the call for an ambulance, and the call for backup as the suspect fled the scene of the crime. They heard when Detective Carver had been found dead of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound, then they waited for news of the wounded until Eva couldn’t stand it anymore.
Johansson tried to get an update on the radio, but someone snapped at him to keep the channel clear, and his cheeks flushed a deep red.
“It’s been almost an hour,” she said, her body aching from the tension in her muscles and the way she’d been sitting on the floor. “Do you think we should check? I mean, if the guy killed himself the coast is clear, right?”
“I don’t know about that. I was told to keep you here until Mr. DeGrey came to get us.”
“Yes, but what if Marina was injured, and he had to go to the hospital with her?”What if he’s been hurt?She didn’t give voice to her true fear.
He worried his bottom lip, then glanced at his radio. She knew she was pressuring him, but the danger was clearly gone. Surely it was chaotic out there, and Gavin had forgotten about her locked in a supply closet. She raised her eyebrows and smiled hopefully at Johansson.
“I guess I could go check,” he said. “But you need to stay here.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“I need to stay off the radio, so I’ll just go check in person.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“You keep the door locked.”
“I will. Thanks so much for checking, Officer.” She kept the smile plastered to her face until he was out the door, taking care to lock it behind him. Dropping her grin, she let her face return to its worried form. She didn’t think for aminute Gavin had forgotten her in the supply closet, which was all the more reason to be concerned.
She needed to move around. Her left foot had gone completely numb since last she’d used it. Shaking it out, she leaned against the wall and rotated her ankle.
The doorknob turned this way and that, then she heard a key slip into the lock. “What’d you forget?” she asked. Johanssen hadn’t been gone long enough for it to be anyone but him. But he didn’t respond, and her good-natured grin slowly fell from her face. She took a step back from the door, then another. “Officer Johanssen?” She swallowed hard. “Is that you?”
27
“Where the hell is this stupid supply closet?” Gavin muttered, glancing down an empty corridor.
Sloan frowned. “Didn’t we already go this way?” Squinting at the faded emergency exit plan posted on the wall. “Jacoby said take a left at the elevators, then the second right.”
“Yeah, we did that. Twice.”
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting the hallway in a washed-out institutional light. This wing of the precinct was deserted—eerily so. It made sense for the commotion to clear out the building, yet instinct had the skin at the back of his neck prickling.
“I don’t like this,” Sloan sing-songed.
“Goddamn it,” Gavin cursed. “What the hell is going on here? Where are Eva and the baby?” He called her name, but his voice just echoed off the tiled walls. “How hard is it to give simple directions?”
The men exchanged a look. “Not that fucking hard,” suggested Sloan.
Gavin wanted his sidearm so badly in that instant, the need was a physical ache. “You think Jacoby sent us on a wild goose chase?”
Sloan unzipped his fanny pack and withdrew a six-inch carved wooden knife with a fiercely articulated point.
Gavin cocked an eyebrow at the weapon, which wouldn’t have set off the metal detectors. “Holy shit.”
Sloan wagged his eyebrows. “Never underestimate Grandpa Joe.”
They hurried along, their eyes scanning doorways, corners, vents. They rounded a corner and stopped dead. A middle-aged officer was sprawled on the ground, his neck twisted at an impossible angle, eyes open but unseeing.
Gavin crouched and checked for a pulse. “He’s gone.” His eyes caught on the officer’s nametag: JOHANSSEN. “Jesus Christ, this is the officer who was guarding Eva.” He grabbed Johanssen’s sidearm and tucked it into his own ankle holster, then took the dead man’s radio from its place at his hip.
He depressed the button. “This is Gavin DeGrey. Officer Johanssen has been killed, suspect is on the loose in police headquarters, believed to be deputy commissioner Jacoby. Don’t let, I repeat, do not let anyone out of the building. There’s potential for a hostage situation.” Turning the volume down, he hooked the radio to his own hip and gestured to Sloan. “Jacoby’s going to be desperate. We have to find Eva now.”
