“I can hold down the fort until you get back.”
He nodded.
“You want me to wrap that for you?”
Only now did he look down and stare at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. Two chunks of glass were embedded in the palm. He shook his head as he pulled them out. He made a fist and held his hand up against his chest.
“I’m okay,” he said as blood dripped down his arm.
“Call me as soon as you know something.”
He nodded again, though he honestly didn’t hear the rest of what she said over the throbbing in his head. With every step, he felt the anger brewing. In all his plans, in all his stupid strategy to protect and defend, he never thought they’d attack somewhere else. Or someone else.
Now he understood. They’d done their homework. They knew that to torture and hurt him would be too easy. And they knew that terrorizing and hurting those he loved — including his dogs — would be exactly what would rip his heart out. What would truly destroy him.
59
Creed had his elbows on his knees and his face planted in his hands. He didn’t care that his makeshift bandage had bled through. He kept his eyes closed and was hoping the throbbing in his head would quiet down, when suddenly he felt someone standing over him.
“We have to stop meeting in hospitals.”
“And in holes in the ground,” he answered, before looking up at Maggie O’Dell.
She didn’t smile as she sat down beside him. Months ago, a case they’d worked on had landed them in a ravine and twice in hospital waiting lounges. Creed supposed it wasn’t something either of them was ready to joke about.
This waiting lounge had been full just minutes ago. Or maybe it was hours ago, because now he saw that darkness filled the windows where sunlight had been when he arrived. Only an elderly couple remained, clear on the opposite side of the room. They were staring blankly at the flat-screen television on the wall.
“How’s Hannah?” she asked.
“Still in ICU. They won’t let me see her or inform me about her condition because I’m not family.”
“Does she have family?”
“Her two boys are with her grandparents.”
She was waiting for more. When he stayed quiet for too long, she said, “You didn’t tell them yet, did you?”
“They’re five hours away. Hannah wouldn’t want them driving here.”
He didn’t add that Hannah wouldn’t want to risk placing the boys in harm’s way. She’d trust Creed to make sure that didn’t happen. But he didn’t think Maggie would understand. It probably sounded strange that he wouldn’t even call her family.
Truth was, he and Hannah were each other’s family. The two of them were used to making decisions that would influence each other’s lives. By the time Hannah had met and married Marcus Washington, Creed and Hannah had been business partners for several years. They had been through things that had already bonded them thicker than blood. As a consequence, they watched out for each other and cared for each other with no conditions, no terms. That’s just the way it was. He couldn’t explain it to Maggie. Hell, he couldn’t explain it to the ICU warden either. Once in a while, when Hannah got upset with him, she’d tell him he was “depreciating the business.” But even then he knew it had nothing to do with the business. She didn’t care about that. She said it only as a way of telling him to straighten up.
Marcus came to accept him as one would accept a brother-in-law. And when he left for his tour of duty in Iraq, he told Creed that he never had to worry because he knew Creed would take good care of Hannah and his sons.
But this time, Creed had let Hannah down. He should have listened to her when she felt so strongly about sending Amanda somewhere else. He’d let his emotions and memories of his sister override Hannah’s instincts, and Hannah had paid the price.
“You should have told me about the girl,” Maggie said, surprising him.
“And maybe you should have told me that the Bagleys were trafficking kids for a drug cartel.”
“How do you know about that?”
“How do you know about Amanda?”
She sat back, crossed her arms, and sighed with frustration. But Creed didn’t care who knew what anymore. Hannah was fighting for her life. Nothing mattered right now except maybe the throbbing anger that was building up inside him.
“I just found out about the fishing boat and the kids,” Maggie said. “I wasn’t even sure about the cartel connection. My politically inclined boss was stonewalling me. All I was doing was looking for the original crime scene so I could figure out what happened. Turns out I pissed off a bunch of people.”
“Welcome to the club.”
That made her smile. He sat back in his chair until he was even with her. Crossed his arms and leaned his head against the wall.
“I didn’t want anyone else involved,” he told her. “That’s why I didn’t tell you about the girl.”
“And it appears I’m already involved.”
She went ahead and explained what she knew about the Bagleys kidnapping and trafficking children for Choque Azul. Now that she had the case file, she knew much more. One of the three girls Creed and the Coast Guard had rescued on the fishing boat had already identified Regina Bagley from a photo lineup. It happened during their debriefing a week ago. So Agent McCoy knew that the Bagleys had kidnapped at least one of the children, but O’Dell said she had asked McCoy why he didn’t question them or even arrest them — and she wasn’t thrilled with his answer. Something about building a stronger case.
She said the stories the children told during their debriefing were all different. One was taken from a mall. Another from a truck stop. She stopped when she saw Creed wince.
“Were they using them like Amanda? As drug mules?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone knows. Less than forty-eight hours after the captain of the Blue Mist was released from custody, he went missing. They pulled him out of the Potomac.”
“Spider bites. I know.”
“How could you know that?”
“Let’s just say someone heard about it and told me.” He ignored her second sigh. “So what are you doing back here?”
“For some dumb reason I took the case back.”
He turned to look at her and raised an eyebrow instead of coming right out and asking if she was crazy.
She smiled again and shook her head. “I know, it’s insane, right? But this asshole of a DEA agent pissed me off.”
And that made Creed smile.
“What did you do with the cocaine?” she asked in a low voice, though the couple on the other side of the room weren’t paying any attention to them.
“How the hell do you know there was any?”
“They said she was carrying.”
“They?”
“Agent McCoy. The DEA guy.”
“And how would he know?”
That stopped her, and Creed could see she was now wondering the same thing.
“He said something about security cameras in the airport terminal.”
Creed couldn’t believe that the DEA knew all along that he had been harboring a drug mule. Was that possible?
“The DEA already has an agent outside her ICU room, waiting for her to regain consciousness.”
He shot her a look of alarm before he could stop it. And Maggie noticed.
“You can’t keep protecting her. The information she’s able to share could put away some really bad cartel guys.”
“Or it could get her killed.”