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Heather knew the truth: the fear would never fully go away. She would just not let him destroy her with it completely.
Daniel was still looking at her. Heather shook off the memories and focused on the now. “Any idea what happened?”
“Sol Kimball killed him. And…abducted Haldyn. We think he and Bell were some of the ones who took her that day in the first place.” And Daniel loved her. His heart was right there for her to see. “We don’t know where he’s taking her now.”
89
There were people in the lot. No damned surprise there. He knew how evening shifts worked—same for cops as it was the ER. Shift change was when things got a bit chaotic. Sol pulled the van to one side of the parking lot. Tried to figure out what to do next.
"What do you plan to do? Just walk in with me at gunpoint?" Wilson finally asked. Bastard had been quiet the whole five-minute drive. Like he was planning something. But to Sol's gratification, his words were slurred. Had one hell of a headache, that one.
"Why did you do it?" Sol asked. "Get involved with the boys at Wichita Falls?"
He'd have to get Hallie out. He could take her through the front, but that was going to be damned difficult. Or he'd take her back by Wilson.
That was risky.
“Same reason you did. Money. Power. And I liked it.” Wilson smirked at him. What in the hell had Heather ever seen in this pig shit? “Don’t tell me you didn’t like sticking it to all the assholes around here?”
Sol just snarled. Looked at the bastard.
“You’re not so powerful now, are you?” Hands secured like a damned criminal. Which was exactly what he was. Wilson wasn't going anywhere.
Sol got her to her feet. She was coming around. That was good. Enough that she could stand by herself anyway.
He turned away from her. Just for a moment.
As something slammed in to him from the side.
Sol roared. He turned. Wilson came right at him.
Bastard was strong. Had to be.
Strong enough to have snapped the damned zip ties holding him secured. Sol should have knocked his ass out or something. Just another of his fucking mistakes coming back to haunt him.
Sol's hand clenched the gun, finger on the trigger instinctively.
Steve Wilson crumbled to the floor. As Hallie's scream echoed off the walls.
Sol looked up. Through the window of the rear door.
People were coming—toward his van.
Of course, they were. It had POLICE written on the damned front, back and side of it. Those people there—they thought he was the good guys.
And they wanted to help.
"Get the door, Hallie." If they saw him right now, with the gun, with Wilson—they'd panic. Freak. And that was the last thing he wanted. "I want you to open it slow, so we don’t scare people out there."
"He's been hit again, Detective Kimball. If he dies, we'll never know the truth. We’ll never be able to fix this.”
"I know. Just open the door. We'll get him inside. Let him explain what he is involved in, while he's cuffed to a damned hospital bed. And...we'll get you taken care of, too. Come on. I want him secured inside before little Hope makes it here. I don't want him scaring her, ever again."
90
Handley turned. Looked again. “Stop the car! Now.”
That hadn’t been an odd-shaped deer. That had been bodies. Human bodies. The headlights had reflected off of faces. “Turn around. Go back.”
