GARRET FELT the rough weave of the hospital blanket dig into his forehead. Ignoring it and focusing on the smoothness of Kit’s skin, he rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand, then tightened his grip.
There was nothing. No response.
Blinking back his frustration and terror, he raised his head. Caleb sat sprawled in a chair on the other side of Kit’s hospital bed. His pose was deceptively casual, but he was staring at his sister’s face in much the same way he had been since he and Garret had arrived over twenty hours ago.
Kit was in a coma. And they didn’t know when she’d come out of it.
Garret stroked the back of her hand again. He supposed that’s the way it was with comas, that doctors never really knew when, or if, a patient would come out of one. He’d heard that before, but it had never carried as much meaning as it did now.
His eyes shifted to the monitors. Her heart rate was steady, and the rest of her vitals were as strong as could be expected. The machine beeped in the same slow rhythm as the device that pumped air into her lungs.
He never should have left. Or rather, he never should have let Drew handle Maria Costello and Louis Ramon. If he’d taken matters into his own hands like he’d wanted to when they’d first learned of Costello’s involvement, none of this would ever have happened.
Guilt seared through his gut, swift and brutal. They’d been so intent on bringing Kašović in that he’d let himself get sloppy. He’d let loose ends unravel further. Unravel enough to wrap themselves around Kit and drag her back into the abyss.
“Jesus,” he said under his breath, not really knowing if it was a curse or a prayer.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Caleb said. At Caleb’s tone, Garret looked over at him again. Caleb’s voice was often flat, devoid of all emotion, but this was different. For the first time since Garret had started working with Caleb, he heard emptiness in Caleb’s voice. And the guilt just kept coming.
“I shouldn’t have let Drew and his team handle Maria Costello and her son,” Garret said.
“I could have gone down and handled it myself. But I didn’t,” Caleb countered.
“I have more contacts in that family than you do.”
“I have plenty of contacts. You were trying to start a life with her. You did what you should have done—you stayed with her. You committed yourself to making a new life work.”
“And look at what good that did,” Garret said, loosening the grip he had on Kit’s hand that he now realized had grown tight.
“I should have gone,” Caleb insisted.
For a long moment, Garret said nothing and just observed his partner and friend. Caleb’s face was pale and scruffy—hell, both their faces were, after having sat at Kit’s side since they’d arrived. And though Caleb was preternaturally still, Garret knew his mind was working. But for once, he’d bet his friend’s mind wasn’t focused on solving a problem or planning a mission. No, Garret would bet Caleb was reliving every memory he had of Kit. And probably feeling his own wave of guilt—for having left her with their father, for not having been a bigger part of her life, for not having stopped Louis Ramon. Because that was who had done this to Kit.
Carly, who had saved Kit’s life by dragging her just far enough out of the path of the oncoming car that it had hit her hips and legs rather than her chest and head, had escaped significant injury and walked away with a couple of bruised ribs and a broken wrist. She’d also gotten a good look at the driver. And had confirmed that it was Louis Ramon.
How Louis had gotten into the country, Garret didn’t know and didn’t care. But he had. And he’d done this to Kit. And Garret could have stopped him.
Garret opened his mouth to confess to Caleb why this was his fault. And why he could have stopped it. But before he had the opportunity, the door slid open and Drew walked in carrying coffee. He’d arrived eight hours earlier, and though outwardly, he didn’t look as rumpled as Garret and Caleb, Garret could see it in his eyes. Drew’s eyes didn’t bother to hide his distress and, yes, his guilt. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.
Garret continued to hold Kit’s hand in one of his as he accepted the coffee with the other. Caleb took a cup but let it hang in his fingers. Drew leaned against the wall and all three just simply watched her, lost in their own feelings; fearing to hope, but hoping nonetheless.
“We have to do something,” Caleb finally said. “We can’t just let this happen.”
“Maria Costello assures me she had no idea her son was going to do this,” Drew said.
“And I give a damn what Maria Costello says, why?” Caleb bit out.
Not taking his eyes off Kit, Drew shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“And you believe her?” Garret asked.
Drew tipped his head in a noncommittal gesture. “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter if she knew, it only matters what she does now. I just wanted tell you both.”
“Meaning you don’t want one of us to go down and have a chat with her until you have a better idea of what her next step might be,” Garret said, not bothering to keep the bite out of his tone.
“She’s useful to us now that this thing with Kašović is over,” Drew commented. However, Garret noted a blasé tone in the agent’s voice, as if Drew were towing the company line but didn’t really give a damn if something happened to make Maria Costello pay for what had happened.
“I’m—” Again, Garret was cut off as the door slid open.
This time, it was Carly who stepped into the room. She was wearing jeans, work boots, and a big sweater. Her wrist was in a cast and when she came into the room, Garret could see that she was moving gingerly.
Her eyes bounced between the three men, landed on Kit for a long moment, then returned to Garret.
“How is she?” Carly asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “No change.”
Carly bit her lip and Garret knew she was experiencing the same thing they all were: guilt. Jesus, the room was so filled with it that he wondered if it might become visible, like a thick fog filling the room.
Drew cleared his throat, causing Garret to glance at him. The agent raised an eyebrow in response.
“Carly Drummond, this is Drew Carmichael, a friend of Kit’s. Drew, this is Carly Drummond, the Deputy Chief of Police in Windsor and also Kit’s friend.” Garret made the introduction. “Carly’s the one who saw the attack and pulled Kit out of the way.”
Carly turned to face Drew. She had to look up to meet his gaze, and though she gave him a nod of acknowledgement, she didn’t bother to hold her hand out. And neither did he.
“How are you?” Garret asked.
Carly shrugged. “Fine, a little sore, but fine.”
He’d bet she was more than just a little sore. But he had to respect her attitude.
“You broke your wrist?” Drew asked.
Again, she turned to face him, then nodded.
“And bruised a few ribs,” Caleb added.
“Was it a bad break?” Drew asked.
Carly looked between Caleb and Drew then shook her head. “It’s fine,” she answered, turning back to look at Kit.
“Any news at all?” she asked Garret.
“No, the doctor is supposed to come by any minute now. Any update on Louis Ramon?” he asked.
She bobbed her head then gestured with her eyes toward Drew in a silent question.
Garret glanced at Drew who was watching Carly, though she was turned mostly away from him so his view was primarily of her back.
“Drew knows all about Louis Ramon. He was with us when we discovered who he was and why he was after Kit,” Garret supplied. He didn’t say anything about Drew being with the CIA, more out of habit than as an attempt to keep it from her.
At this explanation, Carly looked at Drew with an expression of curiosity, then turned back to Garret.
“The car he used was found off the Taconic Parkway yesterday, hidden off on one of the side roads. It’s up at the state lab. Vivi and Dr. Buckley, the head of the lab, are going over it now. We think he must have picked up another car, or had someone meet him, since there aren’t a lot of places he could get to easily from where he dumped the car.”
“No trains, buses, or anything like that?” Caleb asked.
Carly shook her head. “No, there’s a train station in the area, but it’s several miles from where the car was found and my colleagues down in that county already ran through all the video footage at the train station. He hasn’t shown up on any of it since the time of the attack. Of course, they have someone posted there now, just in case, but nothing yet.”
“I don’t think Louis Ramon is the kind of kid who would be interested in taking the train. He’d probably have someone waiting for him,” Drew offered.
Carly studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, we think so too. The car he was driving when he went after Kit was stolen from a family in Millbrook. The family has a summer house up there, but occasionally visit in the winter, so they have a beater car they keep in the garage for the snow.”
“Millbrook seems more his style,” Drew agreed, commenting on the affluent community. Garret watched Carly examine Drew’s face again. He could almost sense the questions forming in her mind about just who this man was and why he seemed to so comfortably jump into asking questions and making observations about a police investigation.
“There are way too many people in here,” a voice said as the door opened yet again and the doctor strode in. She was tall, thin, and had straight black hair cut into a short bob. With her knee-high black boots, leather studded belt looped through a pair of jeans, and nose ring, she was not what Garret had expected of a critical care doctor, but he’d grown to appreciate her candor and unusual style.
When no one moved, she paused and gave the room a quick assessment. Garret suspected it was also an efficient assessment. Dr. Lila Rose did not seem the type to dawdle.
“You and you,” she said, pointing to Drew and Carly, “need to leave. Mr. Cantona or Mr. Forrester can share whatever they feel comfortable sharing with you after I examine Kit and have a chat with them about where we are.”
With an economy of words, she made her point and then stared at them until they both made to leave.
“Garret?” Carly said as she paused at the door.
“I’ll call you when we’re done. You too, Carmichael,” he added, knowing Drew would want the same. Drew gave a quick nod, then ushered Carly out the door. As it closed behind them, Garret turned to Dr. Rose, who was already going through Kit’s chart. Dr. Rose had been on rotation when Kit was brought up from the ER after the emergency surgery she’d undergone. Judging by the current time, Garret figured she must have gone off shift and come back on.
Without a word, Dr. Rose put the chart back and went to check each machine. Once she was done with that, she pulled out her tablet device, typed in a few things, then stood at the foot of Kit’s bed and read. Garret didn’t have to look to know that Caleb was watching her too—both of them watching closely for any change in expression that might give away what she was thinking.
After a few minutes, Garret realized just how intently he was observing her. She had the kind of face that was not devoid of animation; in fact, several movements crossed her face. She frowned at one thing, cocked her head to the side at something else, and gave a little “huh” at yet another. But despite all that, it was nearly impossible to tell what she was thinking. He couldn’t tell what that frown meant or if the “huh” was good or bad.
He turned a questioning look to Caleb, and it didn’t take long for Caleb to meet his gaze with his own questioning look. Dr. Rose was young—too young to have done anything other than go straight through college, medical school, and residency, but if he didn’t know any better, Garret would have thought she’d been a part of their world at some point in time.
“Well, gentlemen,” she said as she turned her tablet off and lowered it. “Her brain functions are good, solid. And her vitals also look good for the state she’s in. There’s no internal bleeding, but I’m going to order another CAT scan this afternoon to be sure there isn’t a slow leak in her brain that might not have been picked up yesterday. For what her body went through, she’s responding well. The next fifteen hours or so will tell us more.”
Garret wanted more. He wanted Dr. Rose to tell them Kit would be okay. He wanted to hear her say that her experience led her to believe that Kit would pull through this just fine. He opened his mouth to ask her if these things were true, but then shut it. Judging by the way she was standing there, weight on one leg, holding his gaze, he knew he wasn’t going to get any more out of her. And definitely not any false promises.
He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips but said nothing. She seemed to acknowledge his effort when she gave a curt nod, then turned to leave the room. “I’ll have the nurse schedule the CAT scan. Once that’s done, I’ll have a look at it and come back to talk to you.”
Garret nodded. Dr. Rose’s gaze went to Caleb for a brief moment, but Caleb didn’t seem to notice as his attention was back on Kit. Then she turned back toward the hall and left. The door snicked shut behind her.
“She’s an interesting doctor, don’t you think?” Garret asked for no particular reason.
Caleb’s eyes flicked to his, but he said nothing.
The sounds of the machines filled the room for several minutes as Garret began to feel the post-doctor visit let down—with every visit, he hoped for new news, for good news, and after each visit, it took a moment to sink in—to accept that he still hadn’t heard what he so wanted to hear.
In the silence, Garret felt each beat of his heart sync with the beep of the machines. Her breathing became his, and with every shared breath, every shared heartbeat, he poured all his hope into her. Hope for her recovery, hope that she would soon breathe on her own, hope that she would soon open her eyes and smile. And hope that she would forgive him for what he was about to do.
Breaking his connection to her was one of the hardest things he would ever do. He’d thought walking away from her that day in Vermont was hard, but this was harder. That had been part of a plan they were both in on. What he was about to do next was something he’d never talked about with her before and something he knew would hurt her. He knew it would help in the end, and he knew Kit would be able to see that too. But, as he placed one last kiss on her palm and gave her hand one last squeeze, he hoped that she would understand why he was doing what he was about to do and not just that it had needed to be done.
Straightening in his seat, Garret rose. His legs were stiff from sitting so long, but he ignored the throbbing sensation as he let go of Kit’s hand and stepped back. His gaze lingered on her face for a long moment, and he hoped that soon he’d be able to see her golden eyes laughing again. Then he turned to Caleb.
“I’m going to take care of this,” he said, wishing his voice sounded more confident than fatigued.
Caleb sat up and slowly, deliberately put his coffee cup down. “If you know the best way to take care of this, then let me do it.”
Garret wished like hell it was that simple. He shook his head. “It’s a long story, but you can’t do it. You can’t go in my place.”
“Like hell,” Caleb bit back.
Garret held up a hand. “It’s not because you’re not capable.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s,” Garret paused, debating how much to tell his partner. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out. “Do you remember two years ago when we had that stretch of R & R that lasted about six weeks?”
Caleb nodded. It had been their longest stretch between jobs since they’d started working together and not something either was likely to forget. Garret would never forget it, since he’d had no rest or relaxation at all.
“You remember when, back when we first figured out who was behind everything that was happening to Kit, I said I could take care of it?” He didn’t wait for Caleb to nod, he just continued. “I have connections in the Salazar family. Not the kind of connections we usually make in our line of work, but, well,” again he paused, debating about how much to say.
“Spill it, Cantona,” Caleb all but ordered.
“I’m not sure if you know this, but after Maria Costello’s birth, Emmanuel Salazar was forced to break it off with Olivia Costello, her mother, in order to marry a woman his brother had selected for him. His intended bride was Rosa Louise Dias. Rosa had four sons by Emmanuel, and though Esteban is still the titular head of the cartel, everyone knows it’s Emmanuel’s sons who run it, since Esteban had no children of his own, or none he wanted to bring into the business.”
“Yeah, so?” Caleb interjected.
“Like Emmanuel, before Rosa was forced to marry Emmanuel, she was in love with someone else. It was young love; they were maybe seventeen at the time.”
“Get to the point, Cantona,” Caleb snapped, no doubt sensing the tension in Garret’s own voice.
“The man she was in love with was my father, Antonio Cantona.”
Caleb blinked. “What the fuck?” he said finally.
“From a young age, Rosa had already been marked by Esteban, Emmanuel’s brother, as Emmanuel’s bride. When the Salazar family threatened to kill both my father and Rosa if they didn’t break it off, my father left Colombia to save her life. He fled to Louisiana, where his father was from and where he met my mother. They married and had me and my sister, but he never forgot his first love or how he’d been treated. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what that kind of bitterness can do to a man—the best day of my life was when my mom said she was leaving him, and she moved us to Baton Rouge with her to stay with her sister.”
“And your father? And what does that have to do with what’s going on now?”
“When Emmanuel Salazar died, my dad found his way back to Rosa. By then, she was the matriarch of the family. She wasn’t involved in it, per se, but because she had given birth to its entire next generation, she held the kind of power that isn’t common for a woman to hold in that line of business.”
“And?”
“And she and my father picked up their relationship again. They had a daughter. Her name is Consuela and she’s seventeen.”
“What about your father?”
Garret shrugged. “I never saw him again after he left Louisiana, but he died five years ago. By then I was already in this line of business. I guess he kept tabs on me because Rosa knew who I was and what I did.”
“So?”
“So when Consuela was fifteen, she was kidnapped. Rosa came to me asking for help finding her.” Garret could barely believe he was talking about this. There were lots of secrets in his world, and the line between good and evil was never very clear. But even so, he knew that helping one of the most powerful figures of a ruthless cartel was not something he wanted to put on his resume. Even though he’d done it to save an innocent fifteen-year-old girl.
“What the hell?”
“Rosa knew it was likely someone in one of the rival cartels who had taken her daughter.”
“Why didn’t she sic her sons on it?”
“Aside from the fact that her sons don’t really acknowledge Consuela, she didn’t want to start a war. If she went to her own family and her sons went after the group who had Consuela, she was certain no one would survive. She knows what her sons do, and though I’ve never asked, I’m pretty sure she’s not living the life she would have wanted for herself. But even so, she doesn’t want any of her children to die.”
“And so she asked you.”
“And so she asked me,” Garret repeated.
“And I assume you found the girl?”
Garret nodded and walked toward the window. The day was cloudy and with the snow mostly melted into gray heaps of ice and no signs of spring life visible from where he stood, everything looked tired and heavy.
“I did,” he said, answering Caleb’s question. “I found her. She’d been roughed up a bit, but not sexually assaulted. They’d kept her in a room with a bed and she’d been mostly treated decently—at least decently enough not to cause too much damage to her psyche.”
“And the reason for it? Did the other family want to start a war?”
Garret shook his head. “It was more complicated than that. They were looking for a way to get to Rosa’s oldest son. They wanted his attention to negotiate distribution channels. He hadn’t been taking them seriously, and they figured if they kidnapped his sister he’d have to talk to them.”
Caleb blinked. “Uh, did they forget who they were dealing with? Why on earth would they think Rosa’s son would talk to his sister’s kidnapper?”
Garret shrugged. “It was an elaborate plan with Consuela being held somewhere else, and they would only get her back if Rosa’s son agreed to meet, yada, yada, yada...” Garret’s voice trailed off.
Normally, he’d agree with Caleb, but given what he’d learned while working on the situation, it was actually the kind of plan that was just foolhardy enough to work.
“And so you have an in with Rosa Salazar.”
“And so I have an in with Rosa Salazar,” he repeated. “Especially since her daughter is my half-sister.”
Caleb let out a low whistle. “No wonder you never mentioned this. I’m pretty sure your security clearance would change if this were general knowledge.”
“I’m pretty sure my life would change if this became general knowledge.” Because the truth was, as much as the government might question him, it would be nothing compared to what the Salazar family might do if they found out they had “family” who knew the kinds of things Garret knew. He had no doubt they would stop at nothing to use his position and knowledge for their own purposes.
“So what’s your plan?” Caleb asked. Garret wasn’t sure whether or not to be pleased with the assurance he heard in Caleb’s voice.
Garret sighed. “I’m going to go to Mexico, where Rosa now lives, and talk to her. She will talk to her sons, and her sons will talk to Louis Ramon.”
“Talk?”
“Or something like that,” Garret said as he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned back to the room. Instantly, his eyes fell on Kit.
“You’re going to leave,” Caleb said, starting to give voice to Garret’s biggest fear.
“I have to.”
“You’ll be leaving her.”
Garret nodded.
“Without telling her where you’re going or what you’re doing or when you’ll be back.”
“I can’t tell her anything right now, and it’s not something I want to put in writing.”
“You’ll be doing exactly what you promised you wouldn’t do. You’d be doing exactly what both my father and I did to her.”
Garret’s jaw clenched. “I’m doing it to help her. To keep her from being killed.”
“That was my reason too,” Caleb said quietly.
Garret moved his eyes to his friend. “Tell her. If she wakes up while I’m gone, tell her. Please.”
Caleb was silent for a good long moment. Garret didn’t doubt Caleb would do as he asked. But he knew Caleb had just as much doubt as he did as to whether or not it would make a difference. Because the fact of the matter was, he was leaving her. He was doing what he’d promised her wouldn’t. And though he’d like to think that, had she been awake, he would have told her, a small part of him wondered if that was true. A small part of him still thought he’d do exactly what he was doing now, leave her without an explanation, because what he was going to do wasn’t something he really wanted her to know—not the actual details and not what it said about him.
Finally, Caleb nodded.
Garret let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you.”
Caleb nodded again and held his gaze for moment before turning back to his sister. Garret knew when he’d been dismissed and started for the door.
“Cantona,” Caleb’s voice stopped him as him just as he was about to close the door behind him. “Come back,” his partner said.
Garret nodded, closed the door, and walked away.