Splash.
Jax stumbled on instinct but kept himself from falling. He ended up in a crouch beside the railing.
For a split second, he waited for Gabby to surface and scream. But he didn’t hear the sound in time. With his gun drawn and aimed at the men, he squeezed off three shots as the men jumped into their vehicle.
One fired back wildly.
Jax crouched in the dark, praying God would hide him in the shadows.
He fired back, shooting at the tires. FBI policy didn’t allow for shots to be fired at a fleeing vehicle, as there was often a high chance that a bystander could be hit. But he wasn’t FBI anymore, and there were no innocents on this bridge.
The SUV reversed at high speed. Jax left the police to pursue the men and rose, grabbing the railing and looking over.
A boat motored into view, coming out from cover under the bridge. Someone switched on a light, shining the beam on the water. Jax spotted the figure in the murky depths and didn’t want to know how cold that water would be.
When he was certain they were good to pull Gabby out of the water, he turned and ran back to his car. Jax waited while a stream of police cars with red-and-blue flashing lights sped over the bridge in pursuit of the SUV, and then he flipped around to head to the rendezvous point.
He grabbed his phone, found the walkie-talkie app, and hit the button. “I’m clear. Headed to the pier.”
Zeyla responded a few seconds later. “We have Gabby on board. See you there.”
Jax cut off the road, bumped across some grass, and drove onto the asphalt of a single-lane road that ran along the riverside. After a mile or so, the trees gave way to a wooden pier. He left his car on the street and jogged down the wooden boards to where the boat stopped.
Zeyla jumped off the deck onto the pier and caught the rope the boat’s owner tossed to her. She tied it off like an expert.
Jax threw out, “Where’d you learn how to do that?” while passing by her and stepping onto the boat just as the pilot cut the engine.
Gabby lay at the front of the boat.
Jax crouched by her. “Ms. Terrance.” He patted her cheek.
The pilot eased down to sit on a bench seat in the nose of the boat. “How is she?”
“Apart from soaking wet? She was standing on the bridge, and I didn’t see any visible wounds, but who knows what they did to her.”
Zeyla crouched by him. “Blanket.” She laid it over Gabby.
“We need to get her to the hospital.” He put one knee down and slid his arms under the unconscious woman. “It’s probably faster to drive than to call an ambulance.”
He’d suggested they have one on standby for the operation, but the chief had shaken his head. Apparently, the crew in this county were voluntary, and it took at least forty minutes to get them to a scene. Why that meant not having them on standby, the chief didn’t answer.
But he’d given Jax the address for the closest hospital—which turned out to be more of a medical center. They didn’t evenhave an emergency entrance. Just twenty-four-hour staff and a buzzer at the door to be let in.
Zeyla ran ahead of him. “This woman needs help!”
Jax carried Gabby inside, and when the nurse waved him over, he followed her. She frowned at them, holding a set of doors open. “What happened?”
“She fell off the bridge on Rowland Road. But that was after she was kidnapped and held at gunpoint.” He laid her on the bed in the empty room, and the nurse grabbed a phone off the wall.
“Doctor Walsh to room four.” The nurse’s voice came through an intercom system, ringing down the hallway. “We’ll take care of her. You need to fill out paperwork, and I’ll be out in a moment to give it to you.Don’tleave.”
Jax nodded. “Got it. Just help her.”
The nurse shifted the blanket open so she could assess Gabby. Far too pale, the woman hadn’t woken up yet. Jax realized he didn’t know if she had family other than Shawn, who’d been murdered. Did she have next of kin, or loved ones? Friends she considered as good as family.
He needed to find out.
The doctor rushed into the room, lifting a stethoscope from around his neck. Older man, graying hair. He’d probably served the people of this county for decades. Presiding over births, deaths, ailments, and emergencies.
