Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(38)

He looked away. Then he made a call on speakerphone. The man who answered sounded like Jeremy.

“Hey, it’s me,” Erik said. “We hit some traffic. Should be ten minutes behind schedule.”

“Roger that. We’re just pulling into the prisoner bay.”

“You talk to Joe?”

“Yeah, a minute ago. All three mags are up and running.”

“Okay, see you in ten.”

Erik ended the call, and Brynn kept her gaze focused on her compact so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“What’s a mag?” she asked.

“A magnetometer. They’ve got one at each entrance. And everyone’s under orders not to wave anybody through today.”

She glanced up at the edge in his voice.

“That includes you and Conlon,” he said. “No one gets special treatment.”

She pointedly looked at her watch.

“The line at the back checkpoint is short,” he assured her.

Pop.

“Get down!” Erik yelled, reaching back and yanking Brynn’s jacket. “Get her down!”

Her chin hit the console as both Erik and Hayes forced her head down. Tires squealed. The SUV rocketed backward onto a median.

“What the—”

“Keep your head down! Hayes, get on her!”

And then Hayes was in the back seat, pushing her down onto the floor as the SUV surged forward. Coffee scalded her knee, and tires shrieked as they took a corner. Hayes’s weight smothered her, and she couldn’t see anything with her face against the floor.

“Erik!”

“What was that?” Hayes asked.

“Gunshot,” Erik said.

“I didn’t hear it.”

“Call 911.”

Hayes shifted his weight, and Brynn leaned away from him, struggling for air.

“What the hell was that? What is happening?” she screamed.

But Erik was on the phone with Jeremy. “Gunshot fired at Commerce and South Streets,” he said. “I repeat, Commerce and South. Clear the bay. We’re coming in hot.”

Brynn got to her knees and tried to sit up.

“Down!” Erik yelled, reaching back to push her head down.

The SUV veered left, then right. Horns blared. Erik jabbed the brakes, swerved again, and Brynn’s stomach lurched. She glanced through the tinted window and saw that they were speeding the wrong way down a one-way street.

They took another corner, and she braced herself against the door.

“Almost there.” Erik’s voice was tense but calm. “Brynn?”

“What?”

“You okay?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She could hardly breathe. She swept her hair out of her face and looked over at Hayes kneeling on the floor beside her. He was juggling his pistol in one hand and his phone in the other as he talked to the 911 operator.

They whipped into a parking garage, and everything went dim. Another sharp corner, and the squeal of their brakes echoed off concrete. They skidded to a halt.

“Where are we?”

Erik jumped out without answering. Then Brynn’s door jerked open, and four big arms reached in to pull her out. Erik and Jeremy. Skyler stood beside the entrance, along with a sheriff’s deputy, and both of them had guns drawn. Brynn’s feet barely touched the ground as Erik and Jeremy took her by the arms and hauled her up several steps and through a door. And then she was in a gray cinder-block hallway, surrounded by cops in uniform.

Skyler reached for her arm. “This way,” she said, towing her into a room.

“What—”

“In here.” Skyler pulled her into a corner.

Then Skyler walked out, and Erik was there.

“Are you all right?” He cupped his hand against the side of her face. His expression was alert and tense. And yet calm, which seemed totally out of place with all the yelling and chaos in the hallway.

“I’m . . . yes,” she managed. “What was that?”

“You didn’t hear it?”

“I heard something. I don’t know.”

“Stay here with Skyler.”

He ducked out the door, and Skyler came back into the room, gun still in hand as she looked Brynn over.

“Stay here.”

“Wait!” Brynn grabbed her arm. “Where is Ross?”

“Upstairs already.”

Skyler stepped out, closing the door behind her.

Brynn looked around. It was a small room, maybe five by eight. There was nothing in it besides a metal bench that was bolted to the floor. They’d stuck her in a holding cell for prisoners, she realized.

She sank onto the bench and leaned forward to put her head between her knees. She felt dizzy. Slightly nauseated, too. She stared at the pointy toes of her shoes. And she noticed the carpet burn on her knees. She sat up. Her thigh was scalded red from the coffee, and she tugged down the hem of her skirt.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breath.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to settle her nerves. She checked her watch: 8:35. She needed to call Ross. But her phone was back in the Tahoe, with her attaché case and everything else.

The door opened. She jumped to her feet as Hayes strode in, followed by Skyler.

“Here,” Hayes said, holding out her attaché case.