Glancing back, she saw Baz approaching the officers. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she didn’t need to. They divided their attention between Baz and the woman whose car was stolen.
Without wasting time, JJ pulled out her tools, stepped in close, and bent down, hoping Baz’s truck would hide what she was doing. It took about thirty seconds, which felt like four days, but she managed to get the door unlocked.
She stepped inside, closed it, and flipped on the light.
Sure enough, this was someone’s room. There was a towel flung over the wooden desk chair and an empty bag of Fritos on the nightstand. One of the twin beds was unmade and there was an open suitcase on the other.
Knowing she had little time to waste, she hurried to look through the suitcase. She found nothing that would help them figure out what Juliet’s next move might be, only a handful of clothes. On to the small bathroom, she glanced at the hygiene products—shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash. Aside from some DNA the police could use to identify Juliet, there was nothing of use to JJ.
She hurried back to the door, peeked out the window beside it. Baz was still talking to the officers, but now the woman was no longer out there.
Crap.
JJ turned back around, looked at the entire space, hoping to find something that would help. That was when she saw the computer charger plugged into the wall. There was no computer attached though.
“Fuck.”
If Juliet had the sense to take the computer, JJ knew there wouldn’t be anything useful left behind. She turned back, peeked through the curtains to confirm she wouldn’t be seen, then slipped out of the room and headed right for Baz’s truck.
When he returned a few minutes later, JJ tried not to sulk. She’d thought for sure there would be something in that room that would lead them to Juliet. Maybe Brantley was right. Maybe JJ did watch too many crime shows on TV.
“Anything?” she asked when he climbed in and pulled the door shut.
He shook his head. “The woman’s the day manager. Evidently, she leaves her car keys hangin’ in the front office. She said a woman matching Juliet’s description came in, took them off the hook. She didn’t realize what had happened until she saw her car leaving the parkin’ lot.”
“What about the Mustang?”
“They’re gonna have it processed, but based on what they said, it’s definitely been in an accident recently.”
“And it’s a ’65?”
“It is, yes.”
JJ sighed. “So it’s true. We had Juliet in our sights earlier?”
Baz didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need him to. They’d seen the blue Mustang, even waited for it to pull into a parking space. If they’d only…
JJ knew she could insert a ton of if onlys in that sentence, any one of which might’ve prevented Kylie Walker from being run down in the street.
Yet not a single one would change the outcome at this point.
Chapter Six
Gage was aware of sights, sounds, movement, but he was unable to move, barely able to breathe as he sat in the back of the ambulance, Kylie’s hand in his. The EMT was working, doing God only knew what as the other drove with obvious intent.
He answered questions when he was asked—What medications was Kylie taking? Any previous surgeries? Medical conditions?—not sure how he even knew the answers. His mind was fogged, his heart breaking as he leaned close to his wife, silently pleading for her to hang on. She hadn’t opened her eyes, hadn’t moved at all. He wasn’t even sure she was breathing on her own, but surely she was, right? They would’ve said something if she wasn’t.
The next thing Gage was aware of was pulling into the hospital, then people filing out, taking over, pushing the gurney while barking orders as the EMTs followed close behind.
Gage managed to keep up, never releasing Kylie’s hand. She looked so pale, so fragile, it pained him to think they were going to take her away even for a minute. He needed to be with her, to assure her she wasn’t alone.
“Sir, you’ll need to stay here,” one of the masked people told him. “We’ll let you know as soon as we have news.”
Gage shook his head, tried to go with her, but the hands pulling at him were strong. Too strong.
“They’ve got her. She’s in good hands.”
He knew he needed to hold it together, needed to comprehend what they were saying so he could relay the details to everyone else when they arrived. If he had to guess, Travis was right behind them. He prayed he was because Gage couldn’t do this alone. He needed Travis, needed his husband’s strength to keep him standing.
“Come on. This way.”
It wasn’t until Gage was halfway down the hall that he realized Reese was the one guiding him, Brantley right beside him, their dog leading the way.
“I didn’t believe you,” he whispered.
“What?” Reese guided him into a chair in a brightly lit room with people scattered throughout. “What did you say?”
Gage’s legs gave out, the seat coming up to meet his ass. “I didn’t believe you.”
When he looked up, both Brantley and Reese were frowning.
“I didn’t think she was still a threat,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I thought Travis was losin’ his mind. Overreactin’.”
Their expressions went blank immediately.
“It was her. Juliet Prince. She was the one who hit Kylie?”
Brantley’s face was full of sympathy. “We believe so, yes.”
“Where is she?” His eyes bounced back and forth between them. “Please tell me they caught her.”
It was on their faces. Juliet Prince was not in custody. She was not being processed for attempted murder.
“She fled the scene,” Reese answered, his tone smooth and low. “But we’ve got a license plate number, and there’s a BOLO out for the car. We’ll—”
“Where is she? Where is my wife?”
The voice boomed through the space, drawing the attention of everyone.
Gage was on his feet, moving toward Travis.
The instant Travis saw him, he was marching over, then his arms were around him, holding Gage together. He held on to Travis, inhaling his familiar scent, trying to absorb some of his strength, knowing he would need it.
Travis’s hand cradled the back of his head, holding firmly as they leaned on one another. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to assure Gage that Travis was there with him, that he was not in this alone.
When Travis released him, stepping back, Gage gripped Travis’s arm, feeling back in control of himself for the first time since leaving the park. “Come on. Let’s sit.”
“Where is she?” Travis demanded, stopping Gage when he tried to lead them away from the nurses’ station.
“They’ve taken her into surgery,” he explained, recalling only briefly what he’d been told.
“Surgery?” Travis frowned. “Why? For what?”
Honestly, Gage had no idea, and he didn’t want to lead Travis to believe otherwise.
“Let’s take a seat,” Curtis suggested, his voice low and commanding as he motioned them to the far side of the room.