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Her firm nod and the fierce look in her eyes said she would.
THIRTY-ONE
Rosalie looked at the photo of the male nurse Annie pulled up on her computer. John Slade, with his round face set on wide shoulders and not much neck in between, looked more like someone who inflicted pain instead of healing.
A young nurse loped over to the desk. “What’s all the excitement about? Johnny just told me all the exits have been locked down.”
Rosalie jerked up her head. “Are you talking about John Slade?”
“Yeah, but he prefers Johnny.”
“Where is he?”
“I just saw him on his way out for a smoke. What an idiot. He knows how bad smoking is for his health.”
Rosalie raced for the stairwell. Smoking wouldn’t be the only thing putting his health in jeopardy when she caught up to him. Heart pumping, hope brewing, she sped down the steps and yanked the door open. Johnny was at the end of a long hall, standing toe to toe with a security guard at an emergency exit.
She dropped her hand to her gun. The lanky guard, who didn’t look much older than twenty, held his ground.
She reached for her weapon. “Stop, Johnny.”
The nurse spun and studied her with deep-set eyes. “Hey, you’re the hot FBI lady. I’ve heard about you.”
“I need you to come with me.”
He jutted his chin toward the exit. “Why? It’s my break time, but the rent-a-cop here won’t let me go out for a smoke. I went out this exit the other day, and no alarms went off.”
The guard puffed out his thin chest and brushed his fingers along his holster. “My name is Zeke, and this isn’t the other day. The hospital is on lockdown.”
“I got this.” Rosalie gripped the handle of the gun at her side. The last thing anyone needed was a trigger-happy local. “Johnny, you need to come with me for questioning about an incident on your floor.”
Johnny’s gaze bounced around the corridor as if searching for an escape.
A few feet from the exit, a door shoved open. Rosalie’s gun barely cleared her holster before a shot fired and hit the security guard. She ducked and rolled for cover under a gurney parked by the wall. Zeke slumped into Johnny. Both fell as the gunwoman, based on the blonde ponytail and build, pushed out the exit and into the cloudy day.
Another security guard rounded the corner. “Man down,” Rosalie yelled, jumping over Johnny, who pressed his hands over Zeke’s chest wound.
She raced outside and spotted a blonde head climbing into a lone truck about fifteen yards away. The woman aimed her pistol. Rosalie dove onto the ground, her arms straight out, hands wrapped securely around her weapon. Her chin bounced off the concrete, and her teeth clamped on her tongue. She ignored the pain and fired. Shattering glass rattled her ears.
She pushed herself to her knees and wiped her bleeding chin as two police cars rounded the building. Despite the dizziness, she stood and carefully approached the downed assailant.
“Dammit,” Rosalie muttered. Donna Fox, RN, according to her Red Snow name badge, was out cold.
Rosalie satin an ER treatment room once again. She winced as Annie dabbed at the cuts on her chin. “Why does something so small have to hurt so damn much?”
“You asked me the same thing the first time I met you. Now, hold still so I can dig out this piece of rock.”
Rosalie gritted her teeth and swallowed more blood from the cut on her tongue.
Wulf wheeled Paul into the ER treatment room. Both men smiled as if they’d shared a joke. So they were buddies now? What was it about this place that drew people toward each other?
Paul studied her. “You okay, Zenner?”
“Yeah, just dandy.” She rubbed her right forearm, which had taken the brunt of her fall. “Nothing’s broken.” Although it felt like it. “Did you get a positive ID on the woman I shot? Is she awake?”
“Yes, and yes. Just as her name badge says, she’s Donna Fox. From Red Snow. She’s worked here for seven months.”
Annie gently applied antibiotic cream to Rosalie’s chin. “I’ve worked with Donna a few times. She always seemed a little…” Annie shrugged. “Unhappy, I guess.”
