“Yes, seriously!” she snaps back at me. Then her eyes go even wider as I hear further footsteps enter the kitchen area.
“All clear,” says another voice I know. This time Garcia springs to her feet.
“Fuckme,” I hear her say under her breath, and she just about runs out of the freezer room, her gun aiming sure and steady. “Hold it right there, Flynn. Jesus, this must be my lucky day.”
Baxter Flynn does not freeze. He comes forward, a curious look on his face. “Gina Garcia,” he says with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Put your gun down!”
He holsters it, holds his hands up in a bored manner, then looks across to Angelo. “Top end’s clear of these assholes,” he says, nodding at the closest corpse, “but it’ll be crawling with cops any second now.”
Darla is still checking over Luca, so I follow Garcia out, trying to reason with her. “Listen, Angelo and Bax aren’t the bad guys.”
“Oh, I’m sure they had real good reasons for all those cop-killings in Central Park.” She tries calling for backup on her radio again, but it’s still out. She pulls out her phone and makes a frustrated noise. No reception, I’m guessing.
Baxter gives an up-nod to me. “Hey, Finch.”
“Hey,” I say. “Um. How’ve you been?”
“So-so,” he drawls.
Baxter Flynn was always built, but now? Boy isswole. He’s jacked up, his muscles bulging; even his once-cute face has hardened a little, and his jawline seems extra-sharp. The whole look gives him a vibe of danger, although I suspect he must have toughened up mentally as well. Going on the run with a man like Angelo Messina would toughenanyoneup.
Bax looks to Garcia again. “Gina, just so you know, Angelo and I won’t be going anywhere with you. So can we stop the charade?”
“Keep your hands in the air,” she snaps. She’s too busy concentrating on Bax that she doesn’t notice Angelo sliding up next to her. In a few quick moves, he politely disarms her—of her gun, her phone, and her police radio, too
“My apologies, Detective,” he says afterward, pocketing them. “You can have these back when we’re gone.”
Garcia flattens herself against the wall, her eyes flicking between every person in the room.
“Detective Garcia,” I sigh, “didn’t Luca tell you we would protect you? And haven’t we done that?”
“I have a sworn duty,” she says between her teeth. “I’m not just going to ignore that. Not like—not like Flynn over there.”
Bax, who has dropped his hands and is busy texting something to someone—how the hell doeshehave reception down here?—glances up at her. “I used to think the same as you, Gina, until I got roundly fucked over by one of our own. We’ll have a conversation, I can promise you that. But not here. Not now. First priority is getting D’Amato back into care.”
“He’s right,” Darla says, speaking up unexpectedly. Fear grips me again. “This man will die if we don’t get him back upstairsnow.”
Garcia swallows, her lips tightening, and misses the reassuring wink that Darla gives me. “Fine,” she says. “But I want eyes on these two at all times,” she adds, pointing at Angelo and Baxter.
“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Bax says sincerely. “I’m looking forward to clearing up any confusion you might have.”
He mightlooklike a dangerous underworld figure after his time on the run, but Baxter Flynn is still the same old Boy Scout, I decide. “Let’s go,” I say, coming around to take over wheelchair duty. I don’t want anyone’s hands on my husband right now other than mine.
“He’ll be okay,” Darla whispers to me, and I give her a nod of thanks.
He’d better be. I want to see his face when he wakes up to see Angelo Messina is back in town.
* * *
Upstairs,the hospital is operating with a skeleton staff as the threat level has still not been officially cleared. Three heavily-armed SWAT team members are waiting in the reception area, but Darla hides us away in a disused staffroom while Luca is looked over by one of the doctors from the ER. We make a strange group waiting there: Frank and me, Angelo and Bax, and Detective Garcia in the corner staring intently at all of us.
Garcia had her chance to contact the SWAT team, to call out for their help in arresting Angelo and Bax, or even to just make herself known to them as a fellow law enforcement officer…and she didn’t. Her drive to take down the Morelli Family seems to override both her instincts for self-preservation and her obedience to police protocols. She wants personal credit for any scalps claimed today. Her mistake, of course, is thinking that things will go her way.
Bax, who’s sitting close to Angelo on the tiny, coffee-stained lounge, puts his hand on his lover’s thigh and leans in to murmur something in his ear. Angelo gives an answering chuckle.
Garcia’s eyes go wide. “You’re—” she starts, and breaks off with a look of contempt. “So what Ethan Villiers told me was really true.”
