“No.” Clint lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his hair, then explained the latest incident with the father. “I don’t approve of what he did, but if he’s arrested and taken away from his wife, after they just lost their child…” He shook his head. “Idon’t think she’ll hold up, not on her own.” He rubbed his face. “It’s fucked up,” he mumbled. “Neither of these families should even be here. These kids…” He looked away.
“Did the little brother die?” Jordan asked, keeping his voice low even though they had moved away from the exam rooms.
Clint’s gaze shifted to the nurse’s station, where Devlin spoke with another doctor. The solemn looks on their faces revealed the grim truth. “Yeah, I think so.” He nodded at the doctors. “When he came in, Devlin said he wasn’t expected to make it. He’d been shot in the chest.”
“Jesus,” Jordan whispered, dragging his hand over his mouth, distress pinching his face. The man had a six-year-old son and two adopted teenage boys he loved like his own flesh and blood. Clint knew the dire scenarios playing through the detective’s head—the samewhat-if-it-were-my-childscenarios tormenting the cowboy. He lowered his eyes.And Axel.
A dark shadow crossed Jordan’s face. “What is it?” Clint asked.
“Frank.” The name slipped out, barely a whisper. “It’s so hard on him when kids end up on his tables.”
Frank Hayes.Wil Jordan’s best friend, boyfriend… and county coroner.
Clearing his throat, Jordan asked, “Where did the officers take the father?”
Axel raised his head, tears in his eyes. He pointed across the corridor to the other exam room, where the mother continued to sob as the orderlies wheeled her son’s body out on a special gurney that concealed the body in a box-like compartment. With the sheet draped over the top, the metal cart appeared empty. The two orderlies showed solemn respect for their “passenger”as they wheeled him to a staff elevator and disappeared inside, transferring him to the morgue in the hospital’s basement.
“I’ll do what I can for the family,” Jordan said.
“I don’t believe the man will be a further threat to the kid,” Clint offered. “But I understand if the other family presses charges.” Clint didn’t think that would happen, as both mother and son were stricken with shock and horror by the truth of the hit-and-run.
“I’ll consult with both families,” Jordan said.
Axel rose slowly, his throat working. “Will the kid be… arrested?” His eyes shimmered. “It-It was an accident, right? I mean… he was trying to save his little brother.”
Sympathy softened Jordan’s expression. He and Axel had become friends months ago. “If the boy’s family decides to pursue charges, I can’t stop them. However, the extenuating circumstances should help his case in court.”
Axel appeared uncertain. “But people can be so hateful. What if the public vilifies him? Even if he wins the case, he might still face danger from those who believe he deserves to die for killing a child. His mother could also be at risk. People are... unpredictable.”
Clint didn’t think he was overreacting—the cowboy put no stock in thesanityof human beings or their ability to think and reason coherently—and the detective didn’t appear to think so, either.
“If things turn ugly,” Jordan said, “I’ll see what I can do to provide them protection.” He turned toward the exam room on the far side of the corridor.
“Detective,” Clint said, and Jordan paused. “If it comes to it and you can’t provide legal protection…” He nodded once. “Let me know. I’ll take care of it.”
Jordan stared at him for a moment, nodded, started to turn away, then asked, “Any idea who the shooter was?”
“I may have a lead,” Clint drawled, jade eyes locked with Jordan’s stare as an understanding passed between them: the cowboy had no intention ofsharingthat lead.
The detective nodded again and entered the exam room.
“I don’t want to be here for this,” Axel whispered, trembling, as Devlin and the other doctor approached down the corridor. “I can’t be here anymore.”
Clint gently gripped his arm. “Come on,” he said, his voice thick. “Let’s go get our son and go home.” Luke had wanted to come into town with them and visit the twins. They had left their infant daughter, Hope, at home with Zoe.
“What do you think is going to happen to them?” Axel swallowed. “Do you think… Do you think they’ll ever have a normal life again? Ever be… happy again?”
He exhaled deeply, cupped Axel’s head, and kissed him. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Only time will tell.” The answer would have been easy if they had lost Luke.Normalwould never be a thing again. Andhappiness, a distant emotion… buried forever beneath the earth with their son.
Devlin paused to speak with Clint and Axel before moving on to the exam room with Dr. Sanders. He envied his two friends the luxury of walking out of this horror show, though they took part of it with them. They didn’t have to be there when the finalnail was driven into the Healy family’s coffin—that snip of their final thread of hope.
Dr. Sanders paused at the curtain, allowing Devlin to enter first, then followed him inside. This wasn’t the first time Devlin had been present when a family was told of a loved one’s death, and it wouldn’t be the last. But the dire news this time cut Devlin a little deeper than ever before.
Mrs. Healy lifted her head as they entered, her damp, frightened eyes going straight to Dr. Sanders. “My son…?” she whispered, her voice breaking as she took in the solemn look on the doctor’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sanders said softly with genuine sympathy. “I did all I could. There was too much damage.”
“No…” the woman crumbled, clutching the blanket on the bed. Her sobs began small and quiet, then grew louder and sharper. Devlin went to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
