Page 63

Nola bolted for the backseat and ducked inside only seconds before the car coming up behind them sputtered to a halt.
Tate slammed the door the minute she was inside and swung around with his gun aimed.
A young man jumped out with his hands up, screaming, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Get Doc Tuttle fast! I found a guy hung up on some debris down at the river. He’s still breathing!”
Beaudry bolted toward the car and looked in the backseat.
“There’s a body in there! Why the hell didn’t you take him to the hospital?”
“I was running out of gas. I coasted down the alley!” the kid said, and then started crying.
Tate pointed at Nola. “Stay there!” he shouted and opened the back door. “Doc! Doc!”
Tuttle came running out. “Put up your guns. That’s Jeff Wilson. I delivered him just like I delivered you.”
“Doc, come quick,” Jeff said, and opened the back door of his car so the Doc could lean in.
Tuttle made a quick assessment of the victim.
“This man has been shot!”
“Load him up in the cruiser,” Beaudry said. “It’s faster than calling an ambulance.”
Nola bailed out of the backseat and ran back into the doctor’s office with Tate at her heels. He handed her his phone.
“Call Wade. He’s 2 on the speed dial. Tell him to come get you.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He needed her to understand the seriousness of the situation and not think he was abandoning her.
“I have to go with the victim. If he comes to, even for a minute, it may help us catch the killer.”
“Then go,” she said, and ducked into the exam room as he ran out the door. She closed the door behind her and quickly made the call. Wade answered on the first ring.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he said, thinking it was Tate.
“Wade, this is Nola. Tate said for you to come to the doctor’s office to get me. While we were here, someone arrived with another victim, and he’s still alive. Tate went to the hospital with the chief in hopes the man wakes up.”
It was clear from his voice that he understood the urgency of the situation.
“Stay inside and don’t budge. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay,” she said, and then dropped Tate’s phone in her pocket and started to pray that this was the beginning of the end of the killing spree.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Somehow the news vultures had glommed on to the fact that another victim had been found and this one was alive.
Hospital security had already run them out of the E.R., and Beaudry had finished things by banning them from the hospital property altogether. Now they were camped out on the other side of the street with their long-range lenses, hoping for a scoop.
Tate was concerned that the paparazzi types were arriving in the wake of the legit media, because that was how the guy from Doc Tuttle’s office had come across. And now, without a phone, he had no way of knowing if Wade had already rescued Nola up, plus he was worried the latest victim wouldn’t wake up.
Beaudry had already left the hospital to interview Jeff Wilson, the young man who’d found the body, and Tate was pacing the floor when Cameron showed up, bringing Tate’s phone with him.
“Your girl’s safe and sound with Wade,” he said as he put the phone in Tate’s palm. “Beaudry called. He said he’d take us out to the recovery site whenever we’re ready. What’s happening with the vic?”
“They’re still working on him,” Tate said.