God.”
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “Mr. Williams’s burns were simply too severe. We were dealing with burns on more than twenty-five percent of the total body surface area and I’m afraid that...”
She tuned him out.
Because really, what was the point in listening anymore?
Jesse was dead. Dave was dead.
When you spent ten months of the year on assignment, you didn’t have much time for socializing, and these past five years, Jesse and Dave had been her only friends. The two men, both in their mid-forties, had taken Rebecca under their wing, treated her like the little sister they’d never had, shown her unfailing support and provided her with endless hours of laughter.
And now they were both gone.
“Ms. Parker?” the doctor prompted.
She absently met his gaze. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I was saying that the release of the body can be arranged with the coroner.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Right. Okay.”
With a sympathetic look, the doctor conveyed his apologies again, then walked away.
Wiping her eyes, Rebecca got to her feet, knowing she had to get it together. She would grieve later. Right now, she needed to be strong.
“Rebecca Parker?”
She turned around and saw two unfamiliar men in black suits approaching. The taller of the two flashed a gold badge, then offered a rueful smile. “Detective Raoul Flores,” he introduced. “This is my partner, Dante Valleti. We’re with the Mala P.D.”
Valleti, a stocky man with a shaved head, shot her a grave look. “We’re sorry to bother you in your time of grief, but we need to get a statement from you regarding the events that transpired.”
She stifled a sigh. “Does it have to be now?”
“I’m afraid so,” Flores said briskly. “It’s imperative that we question you while the details are still fresh in your mind—”
Fresh in her mind? She almost burst into hysterical laughter. God! Like she would ever forget seeing Jesse devoured by flames.
“—if we want to find the culprits responsible for the bombing.”
“Why don’t we do this in the commissary rather than the station?” Valleti suggested in a kind tone. “If you’d be more comfortable with that.”
She finally nodded. “Fine. But let’s make it fast. I have to contact Jesse’s family and...” Her throat squeezed. “I...have things to take care of.”
“We understand,” Flores said, his dark eyes flickering with sympathy.
And annoyance. She definitely didn’t miss the tiny spark of annoyance in the detective’s eyes.
Rebecca’s lips tightened as she followed the two men toward the elevator. The last thing she wanted to do was drink a cup of coffee and describe how she’d just watched her friends die before her eyes, and these policemen were insensitive jerks for making her do this. The only reason she’d agreed was because she wanted the people responsible to be punished for what they’d done to Jesse and Dave.
As the elevator doors opened, the trio stepped into the car. Valleti punched the button for the lobby, causing Rebecca to knit her eyebrows together in a frown. “The cafeteria is on the second floor,” she told the detective.
He ignored her.
Suppressing an angry retort, she reached out and tried to press the right button, only to freeze when something hard suddenly jabbed her tailbone.
A gun.
“Detective” Raoul Flores had pulled a gun and was now pressing the muzzle into Rebecca’s lower back.
As fear pummeled into her, Flores’s low warning hung in the elevator car. “One more move and I put a bullet in your spine, sweetheart.”
Chapter 6
N ick came to a screeching stop at the curb in front of the hospital entrance, ignoring the no-parking signs and the frowns from the scrubs-wearing, cigarette-holding hospital workers loitering at the nearby smoking area. He’d tuned into the radio on the drive over, and although there had been no further updates about Rebecca or her cameraman, that feeling of urgency refused to leave
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “Mr. Williams’s burns were simply too severe. We were dealing with burns on more than twenty-five percent of the total body surface area and I’m afraid that...”
She tuned him out.
Because really, what was the point in listening anymore?
Jesse was dead. Dave was dead.
When you spent ten months of the year on assignment, you didn’t have much time for socializing, and these past five years, Jesse and Dave had been her only friends. The two men, both in their mid-forties, had taken Rebecca under their wing, treated her like the little sister they’d never had, shown her unfailing support and provided her with endless hours of laughter.
And now they were both gone.
“Ms. Parker?” the doctor prompted.
She absently met his gaze. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I was saying that the release of the body can be arranged with the coroner.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Right. Okay.”
With a sympathetic look, the doctor conveyed his apologies again, then walked away.
Wiping her eyes, Rebecca got to her feet, knowing she had to get it together. She would grieve later. Right now, she needed to be strong.
“Rebecca Parker?”
She turned around and saw two unfamiliar men in black suits approaching. The taller of the two flashed a gold badge, then offered a rueful smile. “Detective Raoul Flores,” he introduced. “This is my partner, Dante Valleti. We’re with the Mala P.D.”
Valleti, a stocky man with a shaved head, shot her a grave look. “We’re sorry to bother you in your time of grief, but we need to get a statement from you regarding the events that transpired.”
She stifled a sigh. “Does it have to be now?”
“I’m afraid so,” Flores said briskly. “It’s imperative that we question you while the details are still fresh in your mind—”
Fresh in her mind? She almost burst into hysterical laughter. God! Like she would ever forget seeing Jesse devoured by flames.
“—if we want to find the culprits responsible for the bombing.”
“Why don’t we do this in the commissary rather than the station?” Valleti suggested in a kind tone. “If you’d be more comfortable with that.”
She finally nodded. “Fine. But let’s make it fast. I have to contact Jesse’s family and...” Her throat squeezed. “I...have things to take care of.”
“We understand,” Flores said, his dark eyes flickering with sympathy.
And annoyance. She definitely didn’t miss the tiny spark of annoyance in the detective’s eyes.
Rebecca’s lips tightened as she followed the two men toward the elevator. The last thing she wanted to do was drink a cup of coffee and describe how she’d just watched her friends die before her eyes, and these policemen were insensitive jerks for making her do this. The only reason she’d agreed was because she wanted the people responsible to be punished for what they’d done to Jesse and Dave.
As the elevator doors opened, the trio stepped into the car. Valleti punched the button for the lobby, causing Rebecca to knit her eyebrows together in a frown. “The cafeteria is on the second floor,” she told the detective.
He ignored her.
Suppressing an angry retort, she reached out and tried to press the right button, only to freeze when something hard suddenly jabbed her tailbone.
A gun.
“Detective” Raoul Flores had pulled a gun and was now pressing the muzzle into Rebecca’s lower back.
As fear pummeled into her, Flores’s low warning hung in the elevator car. “One more move and I put a bullet in your spine, sweetheart.”
Chapter 6
N ick came to a screeching stop at the curb in front of the hospital entrance, ignoring the no-parking signs and the frowns from the scrubs-wearing, cigarette-holding hospital workers loitering at the nearby smoking area. He’d tuned into the radio on the drive over, and although there had been no further updates about Rebecca or her cameraman, that feeling of urgency refused to leave
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