“Your clothing is evidence for now actually, but you can’t leave yet,” Joe replied, surprised she’d think of doing so.
“Damn,” she swore, looking at the hospital gown. “I really do have to leave. I mean, I am all right.”
Joe’s face showed the amazement he felt. Usually people who had been shot weren’t in a dizzy rush to leave a hospital. And although her eyes were...well…spectacular, he couldn’t tell her that leaving was a great idea. “You were wounded in a rather traumatic event and it would be kind of foolish…crazy really…. to leave the hospital so soon afterwards. The other hostages are being checked out here too.”
“Are you calling me crazy or just foolish Officer Cafaris?” Pria asked, smiling
Joe had seen bigger people than this little brunette insist they were utterly fine, just before they kissed the floor. “Neither,” he said, instantly regretting his choice of words. “You displayed a lot of courage in the bank. Everyone got out okay, but if you had started screaming or struggling with Whitwater, he’d have started shooting. Frankly, leaving here is a bad idea,” he insisted. “You should stay for your own good. And, it’s detective, by the way.”
“Whitwater? That’s the guy’s name…that had me?”
Joe nodded. “He was taken down.”
“You mean dead?” Pria asked, feigning a lack of knowledge. Damn, she hated lying, when she knew the bastard had been dead before he hit the floor, even before he’d been shot.
“Yeah, dead.”
“He wanted to kill you,” Pria said, before she could stop herself.
Joe wondered how she could know that, but maybe Whitwater had said something to her about it. He nodded again. “We think that was the idea. He was definitely looking for revenge.”
“For what?”
Man, this woman had a lot of questions, but then she had a weird right to know. “Several years ago, he committed a crime a lot like what happened today at the bank and I arrested him,” Joe explained. “He went to jail for about ten years. While he was there, his wife divorced him. He basically lost everything and I guess he had a lot of time to think it all over and come up with me as the reason for his troubles. Then, he got out. Turned out, life on the outside wasn’t to his liking either. In his mind, I guess it all came back to me and so this stuff that went down at the bank. This was his insane idea of revenge. Getting me to walk him out of there with all the money was like some crazy symbolic way for him to turn me into a criminal. People like Whitwater aren’t usually too smart. He was operating on straight emotion and probably a dose of a few recreational chemicals so he didn’t think about the bank’s cameras or the back entrance we used to get in after the panic buttons were pushed. As I said, I think the idea was to kill me. And as many other people…cops…as possible.”
“And you walked in anyway,” Pria pointed out.
“When the tellers hit the panic buttons, we had to assume it was a hostage situation, since it was happening during the bank’s business hours. Walking in wasn’t a choice,” he said calmly.
“How did you know he wanted you to come into the bank?” Pria asked.
Joe smiled. “He asked for me. Said he’d start shooting people if I didn’t.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You were remarkably brave at the bank. I want you to know that. It’s unfortunate you were wounded, but... ”
“I can’t say I feel particularly brave just now, but I appreciate what you’re saying,” Pria said, interrupting him. “It must have taken a lot of courage for you to do what you did, knowing about this guy already. Offering to take my place. That was pretty amazing.”
“Well, the point is that you’re gonna be okay and everyone else is okay,” he replied, deflecting the praise he didn’t feel he deserved anyway. “I apologize for the fact that you were accidentally wounded. It’s very unfortunate when hostage situations sometimes go this way.” In truth, she was lucky she hadn’t been killed, something Joe didn’t mention.
“I really have to go now,” Pria said again. Although she wouldn’t have objected to staring at Joe for a few more hours, the realities of the situation were intruding. “I forgive you for calling me crazy and foolish and I will swear you tried to prevent me from leaving the hospital, but I need to find some kind of clothing.”
Silence hung between them, giving Pria time to notice again that Joe had really wide shoulders and probably had a gorgeous chest to go with them. And beautiful dark eyes that looked tired in the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights hanging overhead.
“So, what’s the rush?” Joe asked after a moment. “Do you need to be somewhere? I mean…can someone bring you clothing at least?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” Pria admitted. The fact that she’d ended up in one was going to be problematic enough. In ways the detective could not even begin to imagine. “Do you think I could borrow a set of scrubs or something?”
“Look, let me find a doctor to look you over. Just wait here,” Joe ordered. “If one of the docs say you’re okay, I’ll drive you home myself.” Joe’s plan was to find some sane nurse or doctor to tell Pria that she needed to remain in the hospital. He could not quite get her need to go, but the hospital had no authority to hold her against her will. As he whipped the curtain aside, he found himself face to face with a group clearly headed for Pria.
A tall man dressed in black, with wavy, blond hair that brushed his shoulders was right behind an enormous, dark haired guy, dressed in denim and a tall, elegant blond woman in dark glasses moved past Joe to Pria. The blond immediately lowered the bed bar, pulled her dark glasses off and drew Pria into a loose hug.
“We’re taking you home, Pria,” she said, plopping a gold tote bag on the bed. “I brought you something to wear.” Holding Pria at arm’s length, the woman looked her over critically. “Are you in pain?” she asked.
“No, Miri, no pain,” Pria answered. “This is the police officer…detective…from the bank,” she said, nodding in Joe’s direction. “He came into the bank to save me.”
The woman and both men turned to Joe. The blond man shook hands with him quickly, as the woman moved to the other side of Pria’s bed to disconnect the IV line and remove the needle from her arm. Joe noticed that she seemed to know what she was doing.
“We are extremely grateful for what you did,” the blond guy said. “We’re Pria’s family. We’ll care for her now.”
“She seems very eager to leave the hospital,” Joe said. “Maybe it would be best if….”
“No,” the woman called Miri said firmly. “We will care for her, but I thank you for saving her life. Everyone out now, so I can help Pria dress,” she said shooing the men, who walked out into a busy corridor within the emergency department.
“I’m Keircnan,” the blond man told Joe. “This is Monroe,” he said gesturing to the other man. “What happened to the man who was holding Pria? Was he killed?”
“Yes, he died at the scene,” Joe answered, without going into the details of an apparent lack of a cause of death for Whitwater. Plunging ahead, he said, “In fact, Marcus Whitwater…the guy that took Pria as a hostage… didn’t shoot her. She was accidentally wounded by a police sniper, who was aiming for Whitwater.” Joe paused to let that one sink in, before continuing. “The department apologizes for the fact that she was wounded in what went down at the bank and the medical bill….”
“Arrangements have already been made for the bill to be paid,” Keirc said quickly. “I was simply curious about this man, Whitwater. I can assure you, Pria will not be interested in suing the police department or speaking to the media about any of this. She has no wish to