“He told me,” she starts as she pulls away, “that if I didn’t stop looking, I would end up dead, too.” She coughs, sucking in a ragged breath as she does.
Which means this attack is tied to the case the captain insists I drop.
One thing is certain: Even if it costs me my badge, I’m not walking away now.
“Listen to me.” I push her back enough so I can look into her wild eyes. “You’re not going to die, okay? They didn’t want you dead, or you would be.” I hate that it’s the truth. That she clearly wasn’t much of a match for whoever was after her, but pulling punches in a case like this only ends up with someone dead.
She nods then wipes some of her tears away.
“How long ago did this happen?”
She takes a deep, steadying breath. “I don’t know. I came up here around six-forty-five?” Beckett presses her fingers to her temples. “My head hurts so bad.” Her hand slips down from her head toward her throat, flaring my anger all over again when I follow it with my gaze and take note of the bruises.
“That was ten minutes ago,” I note as I check my watch. Another wave of fresh anger burns hot and fast through me. Which means Ijustmissed him. Did I pass him on the street when I was coming into the hotel?
“He put something over my nose and mouth. It smelled sweet? But like it could be used as a cleaner, too.”
“Probably chloroform,” I reply. Which means he was out of here literally minutes before I got here. Otherwise, she would have already been awake.
Someone knocked out with chloroform doesn’t stay out for hours like they do in the movies. Depending on how much she was exposed to, she would have been out for less than ten minutes.
“I thought I was going to die,” she says. “I really thought I was going to die.” Her whole body is shaking, her teeth chattering.
Sirens scream in the distance, growing closer with every passing moment.
“You didn’t,” I reassure her. “You’re alive.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “What was Paul into?” she whispers. “What is going on that’s worth killing for?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to figure it out.”
Whoever did this wasn’t simply trying to scare her—they wanted to leave a mark. A visual reminder that, if she doesn’t back off, the next time, she won’t walk away.
How they found out she was looking into this, I’m not sure. My best guess is that someone is monitoring those files I requested from the Washington State Police office that handled the original investigation. They probably discovered she was with me at the precinct and decided she was the easier mark.
Cowards.They went after her and not me.
I rub the heel of my palm against my aching chest. Since I personally called and requested those files rather than submit a formal request, only the people I spoke with knew about it.
There’s a dirty cop somewhere.
By attacking her, they just painted a massive bullseye on them. Iwillfind them. And Iwillmake them pay for what they did to her.
It’s not a threat—it’s a promise.
“Thank you,” I tell the paramedics as they step away from Beckett.
“We tried to get her to let us take her in, but she refused. Still, might not be a bad idea for her to get checked out,” David Glover comments. He’s the same paramedic who tended to me when I got shot a few years ago. We’ve got a good rapport, and I’m glad he was on call tonight.
“I’ll talk to her.”
He nods. “You good?”
“I’m not the one who nearly died.”
“No, but you look pretty shaken up.” David clasps a hand on my shoulder. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”Is it that obvious?
