Everything Pales in Comparision Page 12

  At that, Michaels’ expression softened. “I didn’t mean any offense,” he said with a slight smile. “You did fine.” He looked then at her parents. “Do the two of you have any more questions?”

  “I do,” her mother spoke up. “Will we be able to have any contact with Daina? Will we be kept informed?”

  “Those are details we’ll have to work out,” Michaels replied, addressing all three of them. “Yes, you will be kept informed, and it’s entirely possible you can maintain some level of contact, but we’ll have to work out something agreeable to everyone, that doesn’t compromise security. Let’s deal with one thing at a time, shall we?”

  He shook hands with them once more, saying, “We’ll take good care of her. It was nice meeting both of you.” And with that, he turned and left.

  Marlene Buchanan finally broke down and turned into her husband’s arms. As he embraced her, Daina went to both of them and attempted her own measure of comfort, even as she sought to be comforted in turn.

  ***

  Emma was back at the hospital by ten o’clock, sitting in the cafeteria having yet another cup of coffee and a passable grilled cheese sandwich. It was only ten in the morning, but she’d been awake for too many hours to be in a breakfast frame of mind. And besides, grilled cheese sandwiches had always been a comfort food for her, and she was in need of a bit of comfort at the moment.

  She had packed quickly, neatly and efficiently. She’d even remembered her swimsuit. She had been just about to reach for the doorknob, when the phone rang.

  Her heart slammed in her chest. For a moment, she was frozen, completely incapable of moving. It rang again. She hadn’t even considered that the guy who’d called earlier might call again. She quickly checked the caller ID, and saw with complete and utter relief that it was Perry.

  “Emma, hey, what’re you doing up?” Perry said in surprise when she answered. “I expected to get your machine.”

  Usually after a late night shift, Emma was asleep by eight A.M. She always turned her phone’s ringer off, letting her answering machine pick up any calls. She was suddenly unsure if she should tell Perry what was going on, and then decided that the fewer people who knew, the better. “I just had some things to do,” she answered him casually. “What are you doing up?”

  “Oh, the girl just left. I was bored.”

  Emma grinned at that. “The girl” was Deirdre, Perry’s girlfriend, but for some reason he couldn’t pronounce her name to save his life, and he refused to call her Dee because according to him, that was just a letter and not a proper name. Emma had no idea what he called her when there was an actual need for it. Honey, she supposed, and suppressed a laugh.

  “You were bored so you called me? Even though you thought I might be sleeping?”

  “That’s how bored I am,” he sighed. “Reduced to talking to your answering machine. It’s one step above talking to myself, so I’m safe.”

  “Yeah,” she said with an easy laugh, “you just keep telling yourself that.”

  “Actually, I did want to ask you something, that’s why I was hoping you might be up. But now I’m thinking I’ll just save it for tonight when I see you.”

  “Oh, uh…” Shit, Emma thought. She quickly gathered her thoughts together. “I actually, um, won’t be coming in tonight, Perry. I’m taking some time off, starting today.”

  “Oh. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yes, I’m fine, I just…have to get away for a while.” That sounded lame even to her ears.

  “Well, where are you going? And for how long?” He sounded confused.

  And she suddenly ached to tell him, to have someone else on her side, to have someone else’s support. But she couldn’t. She knew that. “Perry, I can’t tell you. It’s personal.”

  There was silence on the other end, and then Perry asked, “You’re not still sore at me for the other day, are you?”

  “What?” Emma was surprised. “No, my God, Perry, no, that’s—no, that’s over, that’s past.”

  “You still trust me, don’t you?”

  Taken even further aback, she hastily reassured him. “Perry, yes, I still trust you, okay? This has nothing to do with any of that.”

  “Okay, good, I’m glad to hear that.” He paused briefly, then asked casually, “So, are you going to ask that girl out?”

  “What?” The abrupt change of topic completely threw her.

  “Well, if you’ve got time off,” he said reasonably, “why not ask her out?”

  “‘Ask her out’?” Emma was flabbergasted. “Perry, she’s in the hospital. What am I going to do, pack a picnic lunch?”

  “Well, she’s not going to be in there forever.”

  His tone of voice bordered on condescending and she was immediately irritated.

  “Well, I wouldn’t know about that, Perry,” she said shortly. “And I’m not having this conversation with you. Do you not have better things to do?”

  “Well, actually, if I’m not going to see you tonight, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Fine, ask me,” she tersely invited him, glancing quickly at her watch. “But make it fast, because I do have to go.”

  “Okay, well…” A pause, and then he continued. “I wanted to ask my girl to marry me, and I wanted to know what you thought of that.”

  Maybe the stress of the morning had finally caught up with her, or maybe she’d just had enough of him. She lost her patience. “You want to know what I think of that? What do I think? Perry, you can’t even pronounce her fucking name, and you’re going to ask her to marry you? You might want to work on getting her name right first, since it’s only her last name that’ll likely be changing if you do get married. There, are you happy? That’s what I think.”

  “Whoa, Emma—”

  “And you know what else?” she broke in heatedly. “I don’t have time for this shit. I have to go. Take care of yourself.”

  And she hung up on him. And grabbed her keys from the coffee table, picked up her bags, and left her apartment.

  Now, sitting in the cafeteria, tearing apart her grilled cheese sandwich and eating it in small bites, she lamented losing her temper. It wasn’t Perry’s fault. She was on edge, terribly on edge, and he had annoyed her in his usual fashion, which normally she could tolerate. But not this time, not today. She knew she should apologize, and she would. In a while. Right now she just wanted to calm herself and eat her sandwich. The magazine she’d picked up at the counter should be enough distraction until she had to go back upstairs.

  She was supposed to be ready to leave in an hour; apparently their accommodations were being readied. Beyond that, Emma knew nothing. Which is just as well. She already had her reservations. The less she knew at this point, the better.

  She sincerely hoped that this plan would work and not blow up in their faces. She still felt as if there were some form of deceit going on, but was that really her concern? If the end result was that the two of them remained safe while they tried to catch this guy, wasn’t that what mattered? Which was likely what Michaels was telling himself, and trying to convince her of. She smiled to herself. Good luck with that,was all she could think.

  She turned the page of the magazine and the article on the next page actually caught her attention; it dealt with women in law enforcement. Interested, she leaned back in her chair, rocking it slightly on its back legs, pulled the magazine closer, and began reading. Very shortly, she was engrossed. She didn’t know there was someone behind her until a male voice spoke softly almost right into her ear.

  “You’re lucky you’re being saved ’til last,” he said.

  She never even had time to react. His voice, his words, had barely registered when her chair was yanked brutally backward. She caught a blurred image of a retreating lab coat before she crashed down, striking her head a solid blow against the floor.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Emma’s head hit the floor so hard she actually saw stars. A part of her marveled at that, in a detached kin
d of way, even as she gamely struggled to gain her feet. A sound disturbingly similar to that of the ocean roaring in her ears, she rolled over onto her hands and knees. The view of the tile floor swam nauseatingly before her eyes, its irregular black diamond pattern first doubling, then tripling. With a singular effort, she forced herself to look away. She was aware of the close proximity of other chairs and tables; with her right hand she reached up to grab the back of one of the chairs, managing to haul herself halfway up. With her left hand reaching back to the table behind her, she pushed herself up the rest of the way, lurching drunkenly to a standing position. Suddenly there were hands at her arms and shoulders, helping her to stay upright.

  “Easy, Emma, take it easy.” She recognized Michaels’ voice on her left.

  “Have you got her?” a female voice asked on her right.

  “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

  The woman was either a nurse or a doctor, she couldn’t tell which, clad in scrubs and a lab coat. She had Asian features with beautiful and expressive dark eyes, her black hair pulled rather severely back and up in a bun. She was looking at Emma with concern even as Michaels was easing her back into one of the chairs.

  “Sarge, no,” Emma said, struggling against his efforts. “It was him, that guy, he’s here.”

  Michaels swore softly. He kept one hand on Emma’s shoulder as if to restrain her, and grabbed for his radio with the other. He spoke quietly, urgently into it.

  Emma decided to sit still for the moment. Her head ached beyond anything she’d ever known, and moving only exacerbated it. She was going to have to move, she knew that, but for now she brought both hands up to the back of her head, interlocking her fingers and cradling her head with her forearms. She just wanted to stop her head from feeling like it was going to split apart.

  “Emma?” Michaels crouched in front of her. “What did he look like?”

  She leaned back in the chair, keeping her hands in place. “I don’t know. All I saw was a lab coat, which he could have ditched.”

  Michaels shook his head, rose to his feet. “Did anyone see this guy?” he asked the room at large.

  Emma heard a couple of voices raised in assent, and Michaels stepped away from her. He was immediately replaced by the woman in scrubs and lab coat, who crouched before her.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Lang. You took quite a hard fall there, how’re you doing?” The woman’s voice was soft, concerned.

  Emma dropped her arms. “I’m okay, I think.” She placed her left hand gingerly to the back of her head and winced. “It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I think I’m okay. I’m not bleeding, am I?” Her hand was free of any blood.

  “Any dizziness, double vision?”

  Emma shook her head and regretted doing so immediately. “No,” she said. “Initially, but not now.”

  “Well, that’s good.” The doctor brought out a penlight. “It could come back, though. You fell pretty hard. Look straight ahead.” Lang flashed the light in her eyes, nodded, and repocketed the light.

  Emma smiled. “You make house calls, Doc?”

  Lang smiled in return. “Does anybody? No, I was on my break, I heard you fall. Pay attention, follow my finger.”

  Finally, the doctor nodded. As she rose from her crouch in front of her, Emma felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “We need to go,” Michaels said. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, and shot a look at the doctor. “Aren’t I?”

  “Pay attention to your reflexes and your vision,” she was told. “Any dizziness, nausea, vomiting, get checked out right away. But just monitor yourself for now.”

  As Emma moved away, Dr. Lang called after her, “Try to stay awake for a couple of hours yet. If you have a concussion, falling asleep right away could be a bad thing.”

  Emma looked back with a wry grin. “No worries there, Doc. Sleep isn’t on my agenda this morning.” She continued after Michaels.

  “What’ve you got?” she asked him as they hastened to the elevators.

  “Blue jeans, dark hair, a lab coat,” he told her. “Nobody really saw him. He was quick. Went out the side exit.”

  “He could still be in the building,” she stated, unnecessarily.

  “Not much we can do about that,” Michaels told her. “I need to get you upstairs. Our two guys up there are on alert. That’s where I want you.” At the elevators, he looked across at her. “What exactly happened, by the way? He blindside you?”

  She puffed her breath out in disgust. “Nothing that spectacular. He came up behind me and pulled my chair out from under me. I whacked my head on the floor. End of story.”

  “He say anything to you?”

  “Yeah, that’s how I knew it was him. He said I was lucky I was being saved ’til last.”

  “Lucky you, then, huh?” Michaels said dryly.

  Emma could have cheerfully told him to piss off. She shook her head, and then squeezed her eyes shut against the accompanying ache. Jesus, I have to stop doing that. “So, now what?”

  Michaels waited until the elevator doors had closed before saying, “Now, we get you two out of here, ASAP. I’ve called for backup, for all the good it’ll do, and the chopper is on its way.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Chopper? You’re moving us by helicopter?”

  “It’s the quickest and the safest,” he replied with a nod. “This hospital has a helipad on the roof. All I have to worry about is getting you safely to the roof and out of here. Especially now. This guy could be anywhere. I don’t have the people to cordon off the floor or to conduct a room-to-room search. So, I get you to the roof, then to the military base and from there to the safe house. There’s no way he can follow. It’s a good plan.”

  “No shit,” Emma murmured, impressed.

  “You going to be okay?” he asked, his concern obvious.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll be all right,” she reassured him. “I’ve just got a whopper of a headache, that’s all.”

  He continued to look at her while reaching for his radio and speaking into it, asking for an all clear as they got closer to their destination. They exited the elevator cautiously but quickly, and then Michaels’ radio came to life once more. He listened, coming to a stop.

  Emma slowed, but he shook his head.

  “Daina’s room. Go,” he told her.

  She went, her long strides carrying her quickly down the hall. At Daina’s room she was brought up short by the identical looks of consternation on the faces of both constables stationed there.

  “What?”

  “She’s…getting her stitches out,” the taller of the two replied with obvious reluctance. “I was…told to wait out here.”

  “What are you, stupid?” Emma uttered in complete disbelief.

  She reached for her gun as she knocked on the door. “Is it locked?” she asked the officer.

  He shook his head.

  Emma withdrew her gun, smoothly racked the slide. “Daina? I’m coming in,” she called. She motioned the other officers to flank either side of the door. Gun at her side, she grasped the handle and eased the door open, stepping partially into the room, exposing only her left side.

  Daina lay on the bed on her back, covered with a blanket which she held against her chest. There were two nurses present, one with a pair of scissors and tweezers in hand at Daina’s left side, the other, basin in one hand, caught in the process of pulling a curtain around the bed. They wore twin expressions of surprise. Daina’s expression, however, was amused.

  “Well, at least you knocked,” she said.

  Emma fluidly reholstered her gun at her back, holding the door open with her foot. She leaned back to nod at the two constables, then stepped into the room, releasing the door so that it closed behind her.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t be alone,” she told Daina.

  Daina looked first at one nurse and then the other, before looking back at Emma.

  “Right,” was all she said.

  “I mean, without protec
tion,” Emma amended.

  Daina never lost her amused expression. “Oh, well, I thought that’s what the two goons outside my door were for.” She then indicated the chair at the side of the bed with a slight inclination of her head. “We’re almost done here, if you want to have a seat.”

  Emma glanced at the chair. “Uh, no thanks, I’ll pass.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  And with that, the nurse pulled the curtain the rest of the way around the bed. Emma contented herself with stepping back and leaning against the wall next to the door. She heard murmured voices from behind the curtain and the occasional ouch! or sharp intake of breath. At a knock on the door, she straightened abruptly.

  “Grand-fuckin-Central Station,” she heard Daina mutter.

  Then Michaels said, “Emma, it’s me.”

  She opened the door, losing both her grin and her good humor.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, in a tight, low voice, “no thanks to Milli and Vanilli there. What kind of idiots do you have on duty here?”

  “I know, I know,” he said, one hand out in a placating gesture. “They assumed that since I told them to be on the lookout for a male, two women in scrubs weren’t a threat. You did the right thing, and I’ve already torn a strip off them.”

  “Well good, saves me the effort.”

  “I just wanted to tell you, ETA for the chopper is fifteen minutes. Will she be ready then?”

  “Hang on, I’ll check.” Emma deliberately closed the door, then craned her head around. “Daina, can you be ready to leave in fifteen minutes or so?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Daina said. “We’re done here.”

  Emma turned back to the door, opened it a crack. “She said yes,” she told Michaels.

  “Great. I’ll need her stuff and yours.”

  “My things are at the nurse’s station. Hang on another sec.” Emma spied the suitcase, shoulder bag and guitar case by the closet and handed them through the door.