Chapter Twenty-One
Bellevue Medical Center hummed with activity as Dirk shoved through the revolving glass doors and waited for Meg to walk past him into the foyer. The acrid hospital smell of alcohol and cleaning products hit him as he urged her toward the front desk.
People shuffled out of their way, fanning out in different directions. Doctors and nurses in scrubs moved purposefully down the hall.
“We’re looking for a patient named Michael Degan,” Dirk said. “He’s just been released from the ICU.”
The plump, dark-haired receptionist behind the front desk shoved on a pair of reading glasses and checked her computer screen. “Mr. Degan has just been placed in a private room on the seventeenth floor.” She pulled off the glasses. “Elevators on your left. Check in at the nurses’ station when you get out on your floor.”
“Thanks.”
They rode upstairs with a couple of older women, white hair, polyester pants, and flowered tops. The women got out on sixteen and the elevator rose again.
When the doors dinged open, Dirk spotted the nurses’ desk across the hall and started toward it; Meg stayed close beside him. He had a hunch being there to see the man who had kidnapped her son sparked memories she would just as soon forget.
A little brunette in scrubs stood up from her chair behind the counter and gave him an inviting smile. He wished he were more interested.
“We’re looking for Michael Degan,” he said. “Can you give me his room number?”
“You’re family?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re brothers. You couldn’t tell?”
Next to him, Meg hid a smile.
The brunette seemed to believe him. He decided to overlook the insult.
“Mr. Degan is in room ten. You can see him for a few minutes, but he’s still recovering from surgery so you can’t stay long.”
Dirk turned to Meg. She looked paler than she had a minute ago. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her. “Why don’t you wait for me here?” he gently suggested. “I’ll talk to Degan, see if he knows anything. Okay?”
“I want to be there.”
He sighed. She’d always been stubborn. That hadn’t changed. Taking her hand, he started down the hall, walked past a man in a hospital gown rolling an IV pole along beside him. As they passed room eight, a gray-haired doctor in scrubs came out of Degan’s room, his attention fixed on the clipboard in his hand, half-glasses riding low on his nose.
Worried the doctor might try to keep him from talking to Degan, Dirk waited as the man strode off down the hall in the opposite direction and disappeared around the corner.
Dirk’s attention swung back to Degan’s room. No cop posted outside the door? It bothered him, but as Nolan had said, the city’s budget was tight. Degan would be handcuffed to the bed and he wouldn’t be in any shape to attempt an escape.
On the other hand, what if the man knew something about The Fixer? Something that could give the police his current location? It wasn’t like Ron Nolan to leave a valuable asset at risk.
Dirk glanced toward the end of the hall, his instincts kicking in, his senses suddenly alert.
“Stay here till I make sure everything’s okay,” he said to Meg.
“What’s going on?”
“Just stay here.” Pulling his pistol, he shoved the door open with his boot and did a quick scan. Degan’s eyes were open and staring. Blood everywhere, the sheets scarlet, pools of red all over the floor. Gun in a two-handed grip, he went in, spotted a uniformed police officer slumped in a chair, ran over, and checked the side of his neck. A pulse throbbed. Dirk bolted for the door.
“Officer down! Degan’s dead! Call security! Tell them to seal off this floor!” He tossed his cell phone to Meg. “Call Nolan! I’m going after him!”
Turning, he raced down the hall after the gray-haired doctor who had just left Mickey Degan dead in his room.
Neville had less than a minute head start. He would be walking, blending in. Dirk pounded down the hall, slowed as he rounded the corner, caught a glimpse of a man in scrubs moving purposely toward the elevator at the end of the corridor.
He spotted Dirk, whirled and pulled off two shots. A group of nurses screamed and started running. “Get down!” Dirk fired two return shots as Neville stepped into the elevator and the doors rolled closed behind him.
Dirk raced for the stairs.
* * *
Meg’s hands shook as she pressed Dirk’s cell phone against her ear. “Agent Nolan—this . . . this is Megan O’Brien. I’m at the hospital with Dirk. Mickey Degan has been murdered. Dirk . . .” She swallowed. “Dirk went after the man who killed him.”
“I’m on my way.” Agent Nolan said something she couldn’t hear. He was moving, she could tell, his footsteps pounding down the hall. “I’ve dispatched men to the scene. The cops will be there before we are. Are you somewhere safe?”
“I’m on the seventeenth floor, just down from Degan’s room. I heard shots. I-I think Neville is shooting at Dirk.” Meg’s heart raced with fear for Dirk. She couldn’t believe it was happening again.
“Take cover and stay out of sight until we can get there.” Agent Nolan’s phone went dead.
Meg ran behind the counter that enclosed the nurses’ station and ducked down with two other women. She could hear pounding feet and people yelling. She caught a glimpse of a group of security guards scrambling past, heading in the direction of the gunfire. A couple of doctors ran into Mickey Degan’s room to take care of the downed policeman.
Meg had no idea where Dirk was. Dear God, she prayed he was safe.
“Police!” someone shouted. “Stay down and keep out of the way!” A group of uniformed police officers ran past her down the hall. Meg stayed hidden behind the counter and so did the two nurses. Two more joined them, all of them crouching down in case more shots were fired.
It seemed like forever before she spotted Dirk’s familiar tall frame striding back down the hall in her direction. Relief hit her so hard she felt dizzy. She shot up from behind the counter and ran toward him, colliding with his chest. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Hard arms closed around her. “I’m all right. It’s over. Everybody’s okay.”
“Everybody but Mickey Degan.”
“Yeah.” He tipped his head toward Mickey’s room. “How’s the cop?”
“I don’t know. The doctors are in with him now.” She hadn’t looked in Degan’s room. She didn’t want another ugly memory lodged in her brain. “You didn’t catch Neville.”
He shook his head. “We traded shots up here. He went down in the elevator. I took the stairs down a couple of floors, then caught another elevator to the bottom. He fired a couple of rounds at me as he left the building; then he ducked around a corner and just disappeared.”
“It was him, though, right?”
“Had to be. He went to medical school. He knew how to use a needle, gave the cop a shot in the neck with a syringe full of something, then dragged him inside. Disconnected the machines hooked up to Degan so the alarms wouldn’t sound, then slit the guy’s throat.”
Meg swayed against him.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”
She drew in a calming breath. “I’m in this. I can handle it. I don’t need to be protected from everything that happens.”
He looked down at her, must have read something in her face. “Maybe not.”
Meg waited while Dirk spent the next half hour talking to the police; then Agent Nolan arrived and they told their stories again.
“How’s the uniform doing?” Dirk asked.
“Had a nice little nap, thanks to Neville. Looks like he’s gonna be okay.”
Just as they were ready to leave, a policeman walked up to the FBI agent with a paper bag in his hand. “We found this in a trash can down the alley. Bloody scrubs the guy was wearing were in there, too.”
Nolan looked into the bag. “Man’s gray wig. Figures.” He turned to Dirk. “Why don’t you two go on home? There’s nothing more you can do here.”
Dirk just nodded.
Meg felt his big hand span her waist as he urged her toward the elevator. They rode down in silence, then walked out to the Viper, parked in the lot.
Dirk held the car door while Meg slid into the passenger seat. He leaned down, and for the first time that day, Dirk smiled. “I never knew you were such a trouble magnet, Ms. O’Brien.”
Meg managed a faint smile in return. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Dirk. That’s the reason I want us to talk.”
He reached down and gently cupped her cheek. “All right. After what you’ve been through, I guess you deserve a chance to speak your mind.” He slammed the door, walked around, and climbed in behind the wheel.
The engine roared to life and they headed back to her house. The sun was out, but the afternoon was waning. It was a warm, beautiful day, and tomorrow was supposed to be even better. A good day for what she had in mind.
“You don’t think Neville will come after us the way he did Mickey Degan?” she asked as the car rolled along.
Dirk cast her a sideways glance. “Not likely. Neither of us can identify him. All the people involved are dead except for Pamela, and she never talked to him, didn’t even know he existed until that day at the lake.”
“So none of us are a threat to him.”
“No. Odds are, now that he’s eliminated the only possible connection, he’ll leave the country.”
She turned to look at him, appreciating his handsome profile, the capable way he handled the powerful car. “Odds are?” she repeated.
“We can’t be a hundred percent certain he won’t come up with another scheme to get his hands on your dad’s ten mil. Which is why I’m going ahead with that surveillance we talked about. And we need to beef up your home security. I’m going to suggest your dad make arrangements at his house, too.”
She sighed. “An upgrade to my alarm system is a good idea, but I hate the notion of having to be guarded all the time. I had enough of that while we were on the fashion show tour.”
“Until we figure things out, you don’t have much choice.”
True, but instead of some nameless man sitting in a car out front, she couldn’t help wishing Dirk would be the man watching out for her and little Charlie.
At least he had agreed to hear what she had to say. With any luck, no one would be abducted or murdered before she got the chance. After that, she’d know better where she stood.
They pulled up in front of the house and he walked her to the door. There was a package sitting on the porch. Meg grinned when she saw it and scooped the package up in her arms.
One of Dirk’s dark eyebrows arched in silent question.
“Research,” she said. “Something I bought on the Internet and had shipped to the house overnight.”
She glanced over his broad shoulder to see a plain brown Buick pull up to the curb on the opposite side of the street.
“That’s a guy named Diego Montoya,” he said. “Good at surveillance. Got a sharp eye, and he’s tough enough to deal with a problem if one comes up. He’ll be rotating in with a couple of other guys so you’ll be covered twenty-four /seven.”
She sighed.
“It won’t be for long. A guy like Neville’s not about to just sit around doing nothing. Sooner or later something will break.”
“I hope so.”
“Listen, I’ve got a couple of things to do. We can talk first if you want.”
But he looked like he’d rather make a run for it, get as far away as he could—not a good start.
“Why don’t we talk tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. Maybe you could ... umm . . . take me for a ride on your Harley.”
Disbelief widened his eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Since when do you like motorcycles?”
She shrugged. “Since I was in high school. It’s been a while since I’ve been on one, I admit. I think it would be fun.”
He frowned. “You’re a mother. You’ve got a little boy to think of.”
“So don’t take me on the freeway. We live in a beautiful place. We’ve got parks and streams and mountains. There has to be a dozen places you could take me.”
Interest flickered in his hazel eyes, which looked greener now than brown. “You sure?”
“I’ll bring lunch. We’ll have a picnic.”
He nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
Meg smiled. “Late morning sound okay?”
“Fine. Say eleven?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
As Dirk headed for his car, Meg walked into the house and closed the door, her package clutched against her chest. It was Vika, sold by MotoSport. Dirk was going to be very surprised when he saw it.
Worry filtered through her. Before the abduction, she hadn’t seen him in months. She hadn’t been in his life and he hadn’t been in hers. He’d told her more than once he wasn’t interested in going backward.
Meg closed her eyes and leaned against the door. She wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. Dirk was worth fighting for.
If there was one thing she’d learned about herself since the kidnapping, it was that she was a fighter.