Page 16 of Reasonable Doubt (Wounded Heroes: The Redemption #7)

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Bullets rattled through the night air.

Pain exploded in his shoulder.

He fell.

The gunfire raged on.

Eyes slitted, Lt. Diego Rodriguez witnessed his men drop to the ground one-by-one. It was surreal, like something out of a movie; he reached for his weapon. But his arm wouldn’t move. His face was smushed into the wet dirt.

The world went dark.

It was still nighttime when Diego awoke, shivering in the cool air. He blinked twice as lights shone from…more gang goons coming after him? Then he heard, “Check the victims. Hell, I hope somebody’s alive.”

Men with neon stripes and flashlights fanned out over the brutal scene. Then someone knelt next to him. “Damn. Diego are you…man, say something. Or move.”

Diego recognized the voice but couldn’t place it.

The guy yelled, “Over here. The lieutenant’s alive.”

Others arrived. “How alive?”

“I don’t know. I was afraid to turn him over.”

“Move away, Romano.”

A miasma of even more pain pummeled Diego as he was eased to his back. He groaned.

Then, “Hand me pads. Keep them coming.”

The pain turned into a thousand little pinpricks as the gauze pressed into his shoulder. His shrill outcry echoed in the night air.

“Sorry buddy.” Again, the familiar voice. Romano. Ah, these were firefighters. He knew them.

Above him now, Romano, yelled, “Call out if you need the medics.”

Silence. Diego’s head lolled to the side. He didn’t want to live if everybody else on the task force died.

Book 2: BEYOND PERFECT

25 years ago

“Time for some fun.” The leader of the Tarantulas let out an ugly laugh. Pierced and tattooed up the wazoo, Lupo trained his gaze on Jackie. “I hope you’re ready, kid.”

Jackie held his head high. He had to get through this. He would get through this.

All ten of the gang members lined up with pipes and sticks. No bats, though, because they could kill the new guy with those.

Sneering.

“Woo-hoo.”

“You gonna get hurt, boy.”

“Go!”

Jackie thrust his body forward. The first blow landed on his back. Pain splintered through him but he held his tongue. The second seared his right leg. Oh, oh, God, oh God . The third came out from the front of him and hit his chest. His knees buckled in agony but he stayed upright.

Jackie kept going in a blur. He hunched over, covered his head. Bit the inside of his mouth till he tasted blood.

Finally, he got to the end and dropped to his knees. His whole body was in a big ball of pain. Still, he didn’t scream.

He felt a boot prod him. “Good job, Jacko. You jumped in real fine.”

He got a new name that night and now stood on the other side of the gauntlet himself. He’d been on oxy for a while so he was feelin’ great. When his turn came, he smashed the ten-year-old in the gut. The kid went down.

And didn’t get up.

At least Jacko got his turn. He had years to look forward to. At twelve, he was an official member of the worst gang in upstate New York.

Book 3: SHADOWS OF BEFORE

Will Kirkland was feeling pretty damned cocky tonight.

He’d gotten his dream job at thirty-seven, the coveted Presidential Protective Detail.

He’d been guarding the president for nearly three weeks but he already felt a part of the team.

Guys respected him. Women, too. He glanced past the president.

Special Agent Jill Tremane had also been appointed to the PPD.

President Patrick Mahoney, affectionately dubbed Irish, had been elected three years ago and had made a campaign stop for the next election. He was a good guy. Fair. Honest. And it helped that his politics were the same as Will’s.

Will darted his gaze to the crowd. He saw a glint on the right side. He said into his com, “Glint. Coming from…”

The sound of a gunshot.

Will dived for the President. But he was too late. Mahoney lay crumpled up on the ground, Tremane over him. Had she been hit?

She lifted her head and said into the com, “I need medics on stage. Irish has been shot.”

Will went pale.

Tremane looked at him. “It came from the left. Your territory. Hell, Will, you’re responsible for the president being shot.

Book 4: TOO MUCH HEAT

“May Day, May Day, clear the building.” Lieutenant Joe Romano’s voice was strong, calm, even though his twin brother Jimmy was in the building too.

“Copy that,” Trent responded.

“Got it, Lieutenant.”

Connor said, “Me, too.”

Joe waited for his brother to respond.

“No can do, LT. There’re two kids trapped in the last room upstairs. I can hear them crying.”

“This is an order, Romano. May Day. Clear the building.”

Nothing.

“Goddamn it, Jimmy. I’m still your officer. Get out.”

No answer.

The hell with it. He put down his facemask and rushed inside, lifted the thermal camera and glanced at the layout of the upstairs. Luckily, he had a photographic memory. So did Jim.

Joe rushed through the hallway up to the stairs. He climbed them carefully, but fast.

At the top he went left. By-passed the three main bedrooms. Sure enough, there was another room in the back. He could see three heat signatures. That damned kid went in instead of evacuating. Joe hurried further down the hall, passing a window.

Three feet from the room, the timbers in the old house cracked and fell in front of him with the force of a volcano. Joe was slammed back on his ass.

Into the radio he said, “Jimmy, you okay?”

Nothing.

“Romano, answer me.” He practically shrieked out the order.

Nothing. He managed to stand and pick up the camera from where it fell. He held it up.

There were zero heat signatures in the room.

Book 5: BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE

As you heard in this passage, God is constantly with us, looking out for us. Today, we may not feel that way. He smiled at Mr. Simons who was scowling. We aren’t safe, Reverend. Cancel services immediately.

But Caleb refused. He had faith God would be with them today and always. “In light of recent events, I’m veering from the lectionary to a different passage. I know you’re probably scared after the fire in Lutheran West and the vandalism of five churches in town.”

His own parish, Community Christian Church had been defaced with yellow spray paint on the siding, and the message scrawled, God is dead!

His wife read the passage, then took a seat on the altar.

Caleb continued, “As the reading shows, God is here in our midst always. Even though our friends the Lutherans and the three other houses of God are shuttered this morning, we did not. I believe—”

A blast came with the power of Satan. Caleb was knocked back and hit the chairs behind him. A gray cloud filled the sanctuary. Gasping for breath, he managed to stand.

Through the smoke, he witnessed the carnage: all the pews and the people in them had been demolished.

Book 6: SAFE WITH ME

“Saw.” Dr. Paxton Barry said the word crisply because there was no fooling around in heart surgery. Too bad he had a splitting headache.

Your fault.

It was. He shouldn’t have gone out last night.

Anesthetic gas and the teeth-grating bite of the saw on bone filled the air, making his stomach queasy. After the cut, he handed the saw to a nurse he thought he’d gone out with once. “Spreader.”

He took the device and placed it between the ribs to separate them. And there it was. His only love. The heart. He secured the ribs with big aluminum claps.

Peering through the telescopic lens, he made some adjustments, then said to the others, “Time to stop the heart.” He waited until the organ ceased quivering. “Scalpel.” He snipped one blood vessel then the rerouted it to the artery. He started on the second, the third, but…

Blood spurted out of the woman’s chest. “Clamps…” Blood gushed out. He reached for the gauze. “Pads. Get me pads… Keep them coming…More.”

But soon, the artery won. The last thing he remembered was blood all over the patient and the table. What did he do wrong?