Fayetteville, North Carolina
"Fu-ah-udge." Roger barely stopped himself from dropping the F-bomb as Jack hung up on him. Every man, woman and kid in the ER waiting room was staring at him, hanging on his every word. Not that he hadn't already given them an eyeful and earful since following the ambulance to the local trauma center. He'd paced constantly and had asked about Mari's condition no less than fifty times in the ninety minutes he'd been here. When the EMTs said they were transporting Mari here, Roger didn't argue. The local hospital was closer than Fort Bragg by about ten minutes and he'd heard some nightmarish tales about the wait at Womack's ER. He'd rather pay for Mari's treatment out of his own pocket if it meant she'd be taken care of faster.
"Roger Weston?"
"Here." He whipped around to see a woman in scrubs. Her dark gaze was sharp and her manner competent.
"I'm Dr. Stewart." The woman held out her hand. Roger shook it impatiently. "From Bragg? My father's career Army," she added.
"Best kind." Roger nodded. "Is Mari all right?"
"Mari gave her consent for me to speak to you," the doctor continued. "She is going to be fine, but she has suffered a shock. With a little bed rest and proper nutrition, I think she'll avoid any complications. I'm recommending she stay here a day or two. She is frightened and wants to talk to you first, though."
"What about her baby?"
The doctor nodded toward the double doors. "Come with me and I'll explain what I mean."
Roger was sure his knees would give out at any second. Every muscle in his body shook like Jell-O on a roller coaster. Each moment since he'd turned Mari over to the EMTs, he'd prayed she'd only need a few stitches, get an all's-well report, then he'd take her…where?
To her house to be alone?
Another couple's house where she'd be more apt to feel the loss of Neil that much more?
Or where he really wanted to take her, where he could be reassured at any moment that she was fine. His house.
Damn.
He faced the doctor, calling a halt to their walk. "Don't dress it up. I want straight facts. Is the baby in danger?"
"Yes and no. But let me explain before your mind takes you down the wrong path. Right now she's experiencing some stomach cramps. We're doing more tests, but going on the ultra sound results that everything appears fine. From what I can determine, she's about twelve weeks along. I think her cramping is likely a combination of stress and lack of nutrition. Her last meal was sometime yesterday, she thinks. She's not eating properly, or taking prenatal vitamins. She hasn't seen an obstetrician yet and she needs to. Aside from those concerns, we want to keep an eye on her tonight in case she has any additional swelling around her trachea. Four fingers on her right hand are fractured. We've splinted them. She has a total of twenty-seven stitches to the cuts on her left hand. We've cleaned the glass fragments from her knees. No stitches needed there. She'll have minor scarring, but there's no damage to the underlying muscles or ligaments. From what I hear happened, she's very lucky she wasn't hurt worse."
"Yeah," Roger said, but he didn't see it that way at all. The bastard who did this to Mari was going to pay. "The police need to ask her some questions about what happened. When would you suggest?"
"By tomorrow morning we'll have her test results back and I suspect the cramping she's experiencing will subside. I'd save any major questioning until then, but you can ask her what she'd like to do. Having the guy who attacked her caught sooner may be less stressful for her. Is there someone she knows who can stay with her while she's here? Not that she doesn't have good reason, but she's very nervous. Startles every time the door opens and doesn't do well with any stranger who approaches her. She needs someone who makes her feel safe in order to rest."
"I'll take care of it." Roger searched his mind for an acquaintance that Mari would feel comfortable with and came up short.
"Good. She's in the last room on the left. Let me know if you have any more questions, and I will be in touch as the test results come in."
"Thanks." Roger nodded and hurried down the hall. He reached the door and knocked then eased the door open. "Mari, it's Roger. Can I come in?"
"Yes, please. I am thankful you are still here." Mari sat semi-reclined on the stretcher, swallowed in blankets from the neck down, except her bandaged hands. His towel still covered her hair. Monitors beeped softly. The scent of betadine and alcohol bit at him. An IV hung from a pole dripping fluid and she appeared adrift in deep water.
"I'm not going anywhere. Not until you're safe."
"Is that possible? To really be safe? He stole my purse. He knows who I am. He said he would kill me."
Roger dug in his pocket for Officer Cain's card. A hundred scenarios ran through his mind and none of them were good. "You didn't mention he stole your purse. The police need to know."
"I'm sorry. I was just so upset. That elderly clerk died because of me. I shouldn't have-"
"No, don't you dare put the burden of what happened on your shoulders. You didn't do anything wrong."
Mari startled, her haunted amber eyes widened with surprise, making Roger realize that he'd exploded on her and he winced himself. With as much legitimate guilt torturing him, he couldn't abide Mari blaming herself over this bastard's handiwork.
"Sorry." Roger exhaled harshly. The calm precision and iron control that had paved his way to Lt. Col. through harrowing life and death situations had abandoned him. "The only person responsible is the man who attacked you." He dialed Officer Cain's number. "There's been a development," he said when the officer answered. "They stole her purse, which makes the crazy SOB's threat to hunt her down and kill her that much more serious."
"That would explain it," Officer Cain replied.
"Explain what?"
"The report that just came in. A man driving a red, sixty-seven Chevy registered to a Neil Dalton blew out the windows of Neil Dalton's house with a high-powered shotgun."
"Keep me posted."
"Can she talk about what happened?"
"I'll work on that and call you back. Otherwise not until the morning. Doctor's orders." He hung up the phone and met Mari's frightened gaze. "Remember what I said at the store? For you to think whatever you had to think to make it right, but I was going to help you?"
"Yes." She glanced at her bandaged hands, her voice soft, hesitant.
He sat in the chair beside her bed and stretched out his long legs. "Good. Do it again. Because I'm not leaving you here alone. Not with a madman on the loose. He's going to have to come through me to get to you and that's not going to happen."
Mari exhaled and sank back against her pillows. "Allah has a strange way of answering prayers, but I thank you Mr.-"
"Roger," he said. "Once you've rested and have eaten as much as you can to feed that little tyke inside you then you can tell me more about what happened today."
She nodded, shut her eyes, apparently relieved he wasn't going to press her for answers now. He settled into a comfortable slump and searched his mind for anything Neil might have mentioned about the trauma Mari suffered before. He came up empty. Jack might know-shit!
Roger dug for his phone again. This time he sent Jack a text. Short and to the point. Call me. Mari is in trouble. But it would be a while before Jack turned his phone back on.