"We took samples of the bloodstained dirt around the areas where Austin and the child were found. Dr. Reed also saved Austin's clothing and vest. He was hit by 5.56 mm caliber, M193 cartridges. The brass was policed," Troy said.
"We were blown off by the Silverton detectives. They gave us what little—emphasis on little—they had," Tighe spoke. "We maintained continuous scene surveillance. PD hasn't been back."
"Austin had a swatch of orange fabric in an evidence bag in his pocket. Tech was able to identify the swatch as part of the orange uniforms worn by prisoners at the Silverton Jail. Our lab is searching for blood evidence. Austin made a second radio call asking for the names of three reported escapees. He keyed up for dispatch a third time but never completed the transmission. The area where the girl was found, and Austin was shot is traveled only by residents of the close surrounding area. A canvas and repeat search is in progress," Zach said.
Martin ran a hand through his hair. "Did Silverton give you any of this?"
"No," Tighe said.
"Damn. I need to call Mike. I pulled Papa team out of a Homeland investigation. They lost five investigators and didn't make it far. Violent pornography involving men, women, and children is being disseminated from a data center in Silverton. The materials are being laundered via credit card identities stolen from an internet catalog call center staffed by inmates. Tuesday, Austin left me a voicemail. My gut says this is all tied together somehow. Elizabeth said the shots were all in the vest's voids—military ordnance. Miraculous he's alive. Are the forensics back?"
"Not yet," Julian said.
"What about the other cops at the scene? Did they sanitize the place?" Martin worked through the situation.
Tighe huffed, "All I can say, for a sergeant shot, there’s no level of urgency. I can also tell you our arrival did not make them happy. We need some time."
Martin met Julian's concerned gaze. "Martin,mon frère, we will find the answers. There are eyes on your family and on Austin. Pete's at the hospital right now lining up our providers and consulting with Dr. Reed. Your family needs you, but first, you need to sleep."
The bed calling to him, he sent a priority text to Mike, Ian, and Kieran concerning the abused child and the prison uniform. Mike “Raptor” Johnson was the new second-in-command of Chase Security International. He planned to call Todd and Brynn, who were supervising the original Homeland case, when he woke up.
The morning flew by. The one hour she planned to spend on the floor turned to three. Elizabeth checked the results of Austin's latest x-rays and blood tests and added a couple more orders before returning to his room again. Dennis and Fay Bailey were sitting beside their son. She covered her face with her hair.
"Good morning," she greeted them. "Austin's condition is unchanged, but in his case, that’s not a bad thing. At this point, his body needs time to come back."
"Elizabeth?" Dennis called. "The whole family appreciates everything you’re doing for Austin."
"Thank you.” She bit back the tears threatening to fall. "I put a note in Austin's chart. Family can stay around the clock, but no more than two at a time."
Wednesday, July 10th, 1500 hours
Steven Keys was standing with the Baileys inside Austin's room when the door to the ICU slammed open with a bang. Randy Knox came flying down the corridor snorting like a bull in pursuit of a red cape. "Where is she? Wonder Doc, the bitch."
Steven excused himself and pulled Randy into the nurse's lounge. "What are you doing? Get a grip on yourself."
"A grip? Where the hell is the cunt? First, she poaches from me, then grandstands with the cop. She couldn't call me?" Randy turned redder by the minute, his voice carrying well beyond the closed doors.
"Randy, she's not here. Calm down. You’re behaving like an ass. I suggest you pay attention to your messages. There were numerous attempts made."
Randall Knox brushed him off and exited the unit with another loud door slam.
Elizabeth sat in her office trying to do paperwork. Caffeine hadn’t kept up with her fatigue or growing headache. Insurance companies fought hard against paying.
"Dr. Reed, this is a friend from the Silverton Jail," a woman said when Elizabeth picked up her extension.
"What can I do for you?" Her skin prickled.
"You need to mind your business."
"Trudy, is this you? What's going on?"
"Jails are dangerous places. Bad people do bad things," the woman said cryptically.
"Is this you, Trudy? Are the guards hurting prisoners?"
"Nosy people get hurt." After the woman hung up the phone, Elizabeth scribbled a note on her pad.
She googled the Silverton Department of Corrections’ website. On the directory, she scrolled, finding a familiar name. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Reed. May I speak with Thibodaux Spooner, please?"
