Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wes walked beside the stretcher bearing Tobey O’Mara, his hand resting on his shoulder. Two other paramedics accompanied them. Pete and Dr. Mulligan accompanied the stretcher carrying Brandon Finch. Over the sound of the whirring blades, Wes called out, “I thought Tuck was flying out with them.”
“Change in plans,” Pete, a former Air Force pararescueman, said. “We’ve got them covered. Mulligan and I will be back as soon as we can.”
Wes helped load the stretchers and stepped back as the blades picked up speed. He watched the helicopter lift from the ground and head off toward DC. Five ambulances lined up in front of the clinic. He was joined by Chad Thorn and Remy Mirouette to send off the moderately injured Zulu and Tango Team members. Those with less serious injuries could be treated and released from the clinic. “Mr. Crockett, thank you,” Chad said.
“For?” Wes wasn’t feeling very accomplished at anything at the moment.
“How you spoke with every family. Everyone said how caring you were,” Chad remarked.
“Same here, Mr. Crockett,” Remy added.
Wes acknowledged their kind remarks with a small smile. “Meeting is still on with the two of you at 1400 hours.”
A sheriff’s truck pulled up, and Keith Hartung stepped out. “What happened to you?” Wes snapped. Taking a better look at the lieutenant, he realized he had a cut over his eyebrow and a blackening eye. “Shit, what happened?”
“When I left you, I headed east on the loop. I caught sight of a blue pickup flying down the driveway on the Knolls’ property. I chased. Next thing I know, I’m being rammed from behind. My head starred the windshield. I came to a few minutes ago.” He took a step toward Wes and dropped to his knees.
“Medic,” Wes yelled. He ran to the lieutenant and initiated care. A team from inside the clinic scooped Hartung up and brought him inside.
Wes was following as TJ exited the clinic, his hand on Desi Barrett’s elbow. “Boss, Miss Barrett will be leaving our employment effective immediately. The report will be on the server in an hour.”
Wes nodded, and without saying a word, he entered the clinic. The glass around Eleanor’s room was opaque. At the end of the corridor, Tuck and Sam Baker were deep into a discussion, neither aware of Wes’s approach. He cleared his throat. “The helo and the ambulances are off,” he said. “I need to speak with both of you about Eleanor.”
“Wes, we know she listed you as her proxy, but she is alert and able to make her own decisions,” Tuck said.
Wes opened and closed his eyes. “Tuck, whenever you spout legal stuff, something serious is going on. I’m not debating you. Can we go somewhere more private?”
The three walked into the counseling center and sat in Eleanor’s office. Wes flipped on the noise reduction and sat heavily on her couch. “Reassure me, can someone become pregnant without intercourse?”
Sam Baker pursed his lips. “Yes, artificial insemination.”
“Wouldn’t the woman know?” Wes asked.
“Not necessarily. She could be drugged. What’s going on?” Tuck asked.
Wes repeated what Starr told him. “They found the additional DNA. Could her kidnappers have done this to her?”
“It’s possible. She was also under duress. She could have cooperated. But before you question her, she needs to address another medical issue.” Tuck looked down.
“Damn it, Tuck. Someone tried to kill her three times. Now is not the time for secrets.” Wes growled. “What other medical issue?”
“Right now, she’s getting antibiotics. Her wound requires sutures. I’ll let you know when we’re done.” Sam Baker pushed up from his seat.
Wes’s eyes bored into Tuck.
“Wes, it’s up to her to tell you.” Tuck followed Sam Baker out the door.
* * *
“Okay, Ellie. Tell me if anything hurts.” Sam Baker watched Tuck drape her left flank.
Eleanor stared at the wall. “How long do I have to stay?”
“Ellie, you were shot. Yes, we can close the wound within the next hour. But it’s prudent to stay and let us watch you,” Sam said.
“We need to talk about something else, Ellie,” Tuck said.
