Games of the Heart
Page 155

“What the f**k, Troy?” I heard screeched but I was crawling, Layla moving with me, alternately barking fiercely and whimpering while nosing me. I was trying to gain my feet but my right leg kept collapsing from under me.
I heard the roar of the car and I lifted my head to look up at the house. That was when I saw Mom and Rhonda there, coming out the backdoor.
I lifted up a hand and waved sideways toward the house, screeching, “Inside! Lock the doors. Call 911!”
“Dusty!” Mom shrieked and made as if to come out to me but Rhonda caught her at the waist and yanked her roughly in the house.
Thank God.
Thank you, God.
Thank you, Rhonda.
I kept crawling at the same time trying to gain my feet, Layla with me, whimpering and barking. The pain was excruciating. I felt wetness all around my leg, a lot of it.
Blood.
Shit.
Shit!
Layla started growling.
“Troy!” I heard screamed just as I felt a boot in my side and I had no choice but to go in the direction it took me.
To my back.
I looked up at the boy who tried to touch Reesee.
He looked down at me.
He was smiling.
He was also holding a gun pointed at me.
My blood turned to ice.
Then he fired.
*
He felt it. When it happened. He felt it like he was in dispatch getting the call.
The air in the Station went static.
Merry, sitting across from him and on the phone, cut his eyes to Mike.
He felt it too.
Marty Fink, a uniform who was walking across the bullpen, stopped and his body went still.
And he felt it too.
Then all the phones started ringing.
Mike leaned forward instantly and tagged his out of the cradle.
“Haines,” he growled.
“Mike, oh God, Mike,” it was Jo in dispatch, “shots fired at the Holliday farm.”
Mike heard no more.
This was because he dropped the phone back into its cradle and he didn’t even look at Merry before he was gone.
*
Joe Callahan ran up the steps at the Station.
Sully saw him and shot out of his chair, moving to the top of the stairs to head Cal off.
“Cal, cool it,” he ordered, hands up, palms pressing down.
“Talk to me,” Cal growled, his eyes scanning. No Colt. No Merry. Lots of activity.
No Mike.
“Those kids who been vandalizing The ‘Burg and got caught at Mike’s, they played a prank gone bad on Rees Haines and Fin Holliday,” Sully explained and Cal’s eyes narrowed.
“A prank gone bad?” he asked low and Sully got closer to him.
“Keep your shit, Cal,” Sully whispered.
“Word is, Dusty was hit.”
“Cal –”
Cal leaned down and got in Sully’s face, growling, “Talk to me.”
Sully nodded and said quickly, “Two boys, we got. Colt’s in with one. Merry’s in with the other. Drew’s observing.” He jerked his head toward the hall that led to the interrogation rooms. “They said they were just f**kin’ around. Just hittin’ the farm with their Dad’s guns, gonna make some noise, scare the crap outta Fin and Rees. Sick shit, stupid shit. But they meant no lethal harm. Problem is, they didn’t know one of ‘em’s got a screw that’s even looser than theirs. He didn’t shoot in the air. He took aim. He got Dusty in the thigh as she was runnin’ away.”
An unintelligible rumble came from Cal’s throat.
Sully kept talking fast. “Jonas, Clarisse and Finley got away into the cornfields. Luckily, they were on horses. But the shooter kid jumped from the car as it was still movin’. Ran to her, kicked her to her back then shot her in the chest.”
Cal closed his eyes tight and turned his head away, murmuring, “Fuck me.”
Haines. Fucking Haines was probably undone.
In his mind’s eye, Cal saw them huddling outside her farmhouse.
So he quickly opened his eyes and looked back at Sully.
“How is she?” he asked.
“No idea,” Sully answered. “She’s still in surgery at Hendrick’s County Hospital.”
“You got no preliminaries?” Cal pushed and Sully pressed his lips together. “Sul,” Cal growled.
“He…fuck, Cal. He shot her at point blank range with a f**kin’ .45 and he clipped an artery in her leg. By the time the ambulance got there, she’d lost a shitload of blood so even if she didn’t have a hole in her chest, they were fighting time and already losin’.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
“Mike there?” Cal asked.
“For now.”
Cal stared into his eyes.
Then he asked, “You don’t got the shooter?”
“While the other two boys were freaking out, he jumped in their car, took off, left them behind.”
“Name,” Cal clipped and Sully blinked.
“What?”
“Name and make, model and color of the car.”
Sully’s eyes got wide.
Then he stated, “Let the police handle this. Everyone’s out. Even folks who got the day off have come in and joined the search.”
“Name, Sully, and make, model and f**kin’ color of the car,” Cal growled.
“Cal –”
“You don’t give it to me, you f**kin’ think my ass isn’t down the street in Tanner’s office and I’m not gonna round him up and those two f**kin’ nutjobs he works with to get on the streets?”
“Tanner’s already been by,” Sully admitted.
Cal didn’t say another word.
He turned on his boot and jogged down the steps, his hand to his back pocket to pull out his phone.
He had a name, make, model and color of the car before his ass was in his truck.
Fuck, he should have called Tanner first.
*
Fin’s phone rang and he saw Mr. Haines’s eyes cut to him.
They hurt.
Mr. Haines’s eyes on him actually hurt.
God, he’d never seen pain like that. Not even when his Dad was in the snow and his mother lost it.
Quiet pain. Deep inside.
God.
He pulled out his phone and decided he’d turn it off after he got rid of whoever this was. He was sure news was spreading around The ‘Burg. Everyone would be calling to see if he and Reesee were okay. He’d tell whoever this was to leave them alone and ask everyone else to do the same. Then he’d turn it off. He should have turned it off before like everybody else did theirs. He just wasn’t thinking.
He had his arm around Reesee’s shoulders. They were sitting in the waiting room chairs at the hospital and he pulled her closer as he held Mr. Haines’s eyes and took the call without looking to see who it was.