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“Well, she found out somehow,” Dolan said.
“Agent Dolan,” Hannah said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you said she ‘was’ there. She’s not anymore?”
“No, she’s gone.”
“Do you know where she’s going?” Hannah asked, hoping he would set her mind at ease but knowing he wouldn’t.
“I think we both do,” he said gravely. “I suspect she did exactly what I did once I had your phone number—trace it to your current location. That’s the bad news.”
“What’s the good news?”
“It looks like she left very recently. The security system indicates that the outer gate was last activated less than twenty minutes ago. More good news: I’m sending cops to your safe house right now—a lot of them. Here’s all I need you to do until they get there: tell your bodyguard about the situation and stay close to him until help arrives. We’ll be there very soon.”
“Like how soon?” she asked.
“Between five and six minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line with you until then?”
“No,” she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. “I know you have to coordinate all this. I’ll hang with Rufus. That’s what he’s here for.”
She hung up and got out of bed. That's when she noticed the window. She had planned to open it earlier to check on the rain, but it looked like it was already slightly open. She could see droplets of water sneaking in where it was cracked open a smidge. She was almost positive that it had been locked when Rufus gave her the tour yesterday, and she hadn't opened it since then. The cold tightness that had dissipated slightly when Dolan said cops were on the way grabbed her again.
She glanced from the window to the closet door. It also was pulled to but not completely closed. She forced herself to immediately move her gaze past that. She knew that if she stared at the door, it would give her away. And she couldn’t have that, because she was sure of one thing: Ash Pierce was here.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Jessie watched as Ryan took one giant step backward, then launched forward, and kicked the door to Janice Lemmon's office. It flew open, and he rolled inside. Jessie stayed high and stepped in after him, scanning the room. It only took a second to process the situation.
In the far corner of the office, a young man with short, black hair was holding a large piece of decorative glass, which he was trying to hit Dr. Lemmon with. The only thing preventing that was her cane, which she was using as a kind of sword, thwacking at the man to keep him at bay.
She knew Ryan hadn’t yet tried to shoot the man for the same reason she hadn’t pulled the trigger either. Dr. Lemmon was between them and the man, blocking a clear view of him, and making any shot risky.
“Cover me,” Ryan shouted without looking back, as he holstered his gun and ran toward the conflict. He leapt at the man, who only saw him at the last second and swung the glass chunk in his direction. Ryan threw his forearm up to block the blow, which smashed into his elbow as he collided with the man. They landed in a heap near Lemmon’s desk.
Jessie darted over and saw that Ryan’s momentum had rolled him over onto his stomach. His back was to the man, who was still holding the glass chunk, and now lifting it in the air again, his eyes focused on her husband.
“Drop it now,” she shouted, “or I’ll blow a hole through your skull.”
The man’s hand froze in mid-air.
“Please drop it, Eli,” Dr. Lemmon pleaded. “It’s not worth losing your life. Just drop it.”
“Listen to the doc,” Grover said from somewhere just behind Jessie. She was sure he had a weapon trained on the guy too.
Eli looked at Lemmon, then at Jessie and Grover. His eyes were panicky and confused. Then they seemed to change. They were now filled with resolve. She knew he’d made his decision. So had she.
“Screw it,” she said, aiming and firing.
The bullet hit the glass chunk square in the center, shattering it into smithereens. Eli cried out in pain as his hand was cut by what was now just a jagged remnant of glass. Ryan rolled back over toward him, hopped to his feet, and in one impressive motion, slapped a handcuff on Eli's wrist before kicking him to the ground and attaching the other cuff behind his back. He looked up at Grover, who was now rounding the desk to help him.
“Can you take charge of the guy for a minute?” he asked the bodyguard. “I think I need to put something on this.”
Jessie looked at his arm, which was bleeding profusely, just above the elbow. She suddenly felt slightly weak in the knees. Dr. Lemmon, who had stayed out of the way until now, stepped forward.
“Ryan, sit down on the couch and keep your arm elevated. I’ve got a first aid kit in my cabinet, and I’ll bandage that up until the paramedics get here. While I’m doing that, someone call this in. Make sure to let them know there are two patients.”
That was when Jessie noted that the doctor hadn’t escaped the attack unscathed. She had a deep gash in her right thigh and another one just below her left shoulder.
“Make that three,” she said quickly. “Amy’s in bad shape out there.”
