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She had to give him that—the concern in Daniel’s tone sounded genuine.
She looked at the man on the gurney. She tried not to flinch. Brett Naylor, one of the guys she actually respected at the FC:TSP. He was good with the public, got along well with others, worked hard.
He was covered in blood. He didn’t look good. He didn’t look good at all.
“Two to the chest or back, hard to tell at this point,” the paramedic said. “Lost a lot of blood. But we found that around him, with that belt there. Slowed the bleeding. Hopefully enough. We’re taking him in to FCGH. They have a trauma team already waiting.”
“There’s something in his hand,” Heather said. She reached out.
Brett’s eyes opened. Met hers. “Find…them.”
“We will, Brett. We will.” But he was already out again. Heather’s hand covered his gently, carefully, in case there was evidence on him. Her fingers met metal. And glass.
She pulled the watch out of his grip carefully.
Daniel cursed next to her. “Turn it over.”
She read the engraved words there. “‘Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words. And never stops at all.’ It’s an Emily Dickinson quote.”
“It’s Haldyn’s. I gave it to her for her thirtieth birthday.”
There was so much fury in his tone Heather took an instinctive step back.
Jarrod approached on Heather’s other side. “She had it on when I met her for lunch this afternoon. She was playing with it, fidgeting with it, like she normally does when she’s preoccupied.”
Heather handed the watch to Daniel carefully. It would have to be processed now. “Forensics will want it. When they get here. Someone needs to call for a team. Fast.”
Heather pulled out the small flashlight she carried with her everywhere when she was on the clock. She illuminated the belt that had been tossed aside. Next to…
Heather knelt down. Looked closely. “It’s a women’s pantsuit jacket. Size eight. Definitely Haldyn’s, guys. She wears this one a lot. I have the same suit in dark purple for court dates—comes with the matching belt. I just…can’t get into mine right now, not since the baby. And this…is the belt that comes with it.”
“Haldyn was definitely here,” Jarrod said. Heather wondered if he knew that what he felt for her was in his tone. “Long enough to attempt to help Brett.”
“And her hands weren’t bound. She wasn’t subdued. She was moving freely enough to take off her belt and jacket. She had time and opportunity to put her watch in Brett’s hand like that. Someone sent in that distress call. I doubt the shooter would bother.” Kimball had let Haldyn try to help Brett Naylor. Heather was trying to figure out what that meant. Kimball hadn’t hit Haldyn on that security feed. He had argued with Bell, but Bell was the one who had physically hurt Haldyn and thrown her into that SUV.
But Kimball had killed Bell. There was no denying that. And he still had Haldyn out there now.
“Dispatcher said the caller was Kimball,” Daniel said. “Why would he call it in and identify himself?”
Figuring out Kimball’s motivation would be the best way to find where he was taking Haldyn now. What drove a man like Sol Kimball to suddenly kill one of his subordinates? To abduct a woman from the damned police station? “Question is, is Kimball the one who shot Naylor, too? And where are they now?”
“Call for forensics. They may be able to get us something to go on,” Daniel said.
But Heather knew the truth—forensics took a long while. They didn’t really have that kind of time. She pulled her phone. Dialed dispatch for an ERT. It wasn’t good news. She disconnected and turned to the MC surrounding her.
“Both night teams are out on other scenes now, guys. It’s going to be a while until forensics gets here. Dispatch is going to contact both teams, see if there is anyone to spare. And they are pulling in the day crew, and calling in the mobile unit, as soon as they can.”
“Which there probably won’t be,” Jarrod said. “And Bailey Addy, the supervisor of the mobile unit lives in Value.”
Forty minutes minimum away.
He hadn’t said much yet. Heather had her suspicions why. Jarrod was holding himself together by a thread—and trying not to get himself sidelined while the woman he cared about was in trouble. If he freaked now—he was as good as benched until they knew where she was for certain.
“It’s going to become a madhouse at FCGH with an officer down, and another one dead. Someone will need to find Bryant. Fill him in on what’s happened to his brother. I think they have a younger sister, and that’s it,” Daniel said.
They were already heading back to the SUV. Heather kept up. This was a man on a mission now. And Daniel had nothing compared to what she saw on Jarrod’s face.
They were unknown factors now. Heather wasn’t stupid. These were the kinds of situations where good cops still screwed up.
