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Finley sat alone in the small waiting room on the OR floor. Matt was still in surgery but doing well. A nurse had promised to let Finley know as soon as he was moved to a recovery room. Finley had called his parents. They were on a cruise in the Caribbean and were horrified at being so far away and unable to get back in a timely manner. Finley promisedto keep them closely informed. So far, it appeared Matt would come through this with every expectation of a complete recovery.
Finley refused to allow doubts to creep in. She closed her eyes and beat the dreaded thoughts back. And she did something she hadn’t done since before Derrick’s death. She prayed.
Just don’t let him die. Don’t let him die.
Finley was 100 percent certain she could not live without Matt. Life would be impossible without him.
The door opened, and Jack joined her. “Hey, kid. Any news?”
He sat down beside her in one of the less-than-comfortable upholstered chairs and reached for her. She wilted against him. Closed her eyes for a long moment and savored the feel of his arms around her.
When she could speak, she said, “Nothing more than what I told you on the phone. I’m keeping his parents up to speed on what’s happening.”
“Good. I stopped by Houser’s room and talked to him.”
“They’re allowing visitors now?” She drew back, met his gaze. She would have checked on Houser already if she’d known. She’d been so worried about Matt the idea had slipped her mind. Houser was in this place because of her. Damn it.
It wasn’t only her life she had ruined sincethatnight ... look at the devastation she had caused in other people’s lives. She felt sick at the idea.
“He’s hanging in there,” Jack said. “If all goes well, he’ll be able to go home next week.”
She nodded. The relief she felt was beyond her ability to articulate.
“Look, Fin.” Jack sagged back into his chair, exhaled a weary breath. “Houser identified the shooter as Flock.”
She wasn’t surprised, and yet the reality shocked her. Did Dempsey fear nothing at all? Shooting a cop? Jesus Christ. “He’s probably headed to Mexico by now.”
Jack’s gaze shifted to the floor. “Actually, there was another detective in the room visiting Houser.” He cleared his throat, still kept his eyes averted. “He had the lowdown on Matt’s accident.”
Finley waited, knowing deep inside that whatever was coming next would be painful to hear. “Just tell me what he said, Jack.”
“The good news,” he began, “is they don’t have to waste any time chasing down Flock.”
Did that mean they had him in custody? Had he given himself up in hopes of obtaining a deal? What the hell? Jack’s somber expression told her it only got worse. Her heart sank a little lower in her chest.
“The bad news?” Finley held her breath.
“Flock is dead.”
Relief flooded her. “Why is that bad?”
Three down ... and done.Inside, she cheered.
“That’s ...” No. Reality kicked her in the face. There was still Dempsey, and Flock had been their one known option for getting to the bastard.
Finley shook her head. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
“Flock was the one who ran Matt off the road.”
“What? Matt was run off the road?” She’d known he’d been in a car accident but not the details. When she’d gotten the news, the details hadn’t been important. She hadn’t even thought to wonder ... all that had mattered was that Matt survived.
But it damned sure mattered now.
Fury streaked through her like a bullet. “Tell me everything the detective said.”
“Flock rammed Matt’s car and forced him off the road, but before Flock could get back into the proper lane, a semi hit him head-on.”
Not a good way to go. Finley gritted her teeth. She was glad he’d gone to hell in a merciless way. Bastard.
