Page 116 of The Sister's Curse
Fuck.I blinked. “What happens next?”
“We sent her CTs and labs to the university hospital in the city. They’ll be in touch to schedule an appointment and figure out what’s going on.”
“From what I understand, she fell ill rather suddenly.”
“It can happen that way in acute cases. She needs to rest.”
I nodded. “Do you think…”
I trailed off, hearing a woman’s scream from down the hall. I spun, ran down the hall, and flung back the curtain around Viv’s bed.
It was empty.
A nurse with a bloody nose shouted into the phone intercom, “Code gray on floor two…”
Fuck.
“Which way did they go?” I demanded.
He pointed to the left. “Two guys, and a woman in a hospital gown—toward the elevator.”
I sprinted down the corridor, skidding up against the elevator, then turned down the stairs. I thundered down them, taking steps two at a time. Ahead of me, the door to the outside swung open and the alarm went off.
Two guys were running toward the parking lot, one with a motionless woman flung over his shoulder, trailing severed IV tubes. What the hell were they hoping to accomplish by abducting Viv?
“Freeze! Police!” I shouted.
But I was unarmed. I had no power, and they ignored me.
I still ran after them, my injured leg shrieking in pain. The two men piled into an SUV at the curb of the emergency area. The SUV swept off, leaving me panting on the sidewalk.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I had promised Viv and Owen I would keep her safe.
I had failed spectacularly.
Again.
—
“Do you know where they might be going?”
I sat in Monica’s car while Gibby rooted in the back seat for snacks. She’d advised me to get the fuck away from the scene, so I’d retreated to a gas station a quarter mile down the road. I’d waited next to the ice machine until she’d pulled up and waved me in.
“I have some guesses.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “The Sumner house? The Hag Stone? The church?”
Monica drummed the steering wheel with her fingers. “I sent Detwiler and a couple other deputies down to sweep the Hag Stone. They haven’t seen any activity, but I asked them to keep watch. I fed them a line about teens causing trouble for the Fourth of July weekend.”
I didn’t like lying to Detwiler, but I didn’t think we had much choice. “Smart.”
“Here’s the video I got from the hospital.” She opened her email and showed me videos of the getaway car. I could get only a partial plate. A still image showed two men in the hallway, one carrying an unconscious Viv over his shoulder. The men were dressed in jeans and T-shirts and had masks on. They didn’t look like Lister or Sumner—one guy was too thin to be either, and the other was too short. And neither of my suspects had a tattoo of a poorly drawn snake on the inside of his arm.
“I don’t know who these guys are. I’ll check to see if that tattoo rings any bells in the jail database, but it’s a pretty common tattoo.”
I frowned.
