Shattered (LOST #3)(50)
Hell.
“He got loose—I don’t know how. Eddie grabbed a scalpel. The guards thought he was attacking a nurse, and they shot him. In the fucking heart.” He stopped pacing. “Why not shoot his shoulder? His hand? Why the heart?”
Jax locked his jaw.
“His last words were for his sister. I lied to the kid. I told him she was all right.” Brent swung around. “But the docs are saying she might not last until morning.”
Yes, Carlos had called and told Jax the same thing.
“I have nothing to go on here,” Brent continued, and his words sounded ragged. “All the evidence burned, and the guy got away scot-free.” Frustration seethed in his voice. “Is he going to do it again? You’ve got the in with LOST. I mean, damn, it’s obvious you’re fucking the pretty profiler.”
Ah, because of the kiss? But, yes, he had fucked her . . . and he planned to do it again, at the first opportunity.
“What does she say about this guy? Do we have one of them serial killers hunting in the city? What’s happening?”
Jax pushed away from the wall. He rolled his shoulders. This was Brent’s first big case, and the guy was breaking. “I’m sorry about Eddie.”
“Me too.” Brent shook his head. “I heard the gun blast when I was in the hall outside of the med ward. If I’d just gotten there faster, I would have stopped it! I would have saved him.”
We can’t save everyone.
But Sarah was trying to do just that.
“Molly might remember her attacker,” Jax said. “She’s not dead yet.” So don’t give up, not yet.
Brent nodded. Then he said, “We had a deal. I’d keep you in the loop . . .”
Yes.
“But I need you to tell me what’s happening, too,” Brent pushed. In the dark, his eyes gleamed. “If LOST has intel, they aren’t sharing, I have to know about it. Because it sure as shit isn’t like Cross is going to be making breaks on this one. The guy can’t solve his way through a crossword puzzle.”
Jax inclined his head. “If the LOST group think a serial is hunting here, you can be certain that you’ll know.” He turned away from the cop. It was getting late, and he didn’t want Sarah staying at that hospital all night.
“Wait!”
He looked back.
“I’ve . . . been researching Sarah Jacobs.” Brent hesitated. “Is all that shit true? Her dad was killing when Sarah was just a kid?”
Jax hadn’t asked Sarah for details about her past. She hadn’t pressed for his, and he’d given her the same courtesy. Anything she shared . . . she’d share. He wouldn’t dig.
“She stopped him, right? Put a gun to her own father’s head and stopped him from killing that last victim?”
“If that’s what the stories say . . .”
“What does that do to a person?” Brent wanted to know. “To know that your father is a twisted killer? To see what he does . . . what does that do to you?”
It makes you stronger. At least, that was what it had done for Sarah.
He started walking.
“Do you think she’s like him . . . deep down?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure? If she lived with him all that time, how can you be sure she’s not just like Murphy the Monster? I mean, Jesus, man, when I look into her eyes, I get unnerved. She sees too much.”
Too deep.
Jax kept walking.
“We don’t need another serial killer hunting down here!” Brent called after him. “This city just survived one nightmare, we don’t need another one.”
No, they didn’t. But it wasn’t about what they needed. It was about what the twisted prick out there had planned.
“SARAH . . .” HER NAME was a low rumble, one that pushed through the fog of sleep that surrounded her. “Sarah, it’s time to go.”
She blinked and realized that she was slouched in one of the waiting room chairs. She’d fallen asleep. She hadn’t meant to drift off. Sarah straightened quickly. “Is everything okay? Is Molly all right?”
Jax’s hand closed around her shoulder. “Molly’s condition hasn’t changed. But it’s time for you to come home. You’re dead on your feet.”
She rubbed her eyes. “I—I can’t leave. Someone has to stay and make sure—” She broke off, then confessed her fear. “What if he comes back for her?” Just because they’d saved a victim, it didn’t mean the case was over. They’d rescued another girl, only to have her die in a hospital. Sarah stood. “Someone has to stay here and—”
“I’m here, Sarah.” That was Gabe’s voice. Her head turned. He was sitting a few feet away. “I’ll call you if anything happens to her.”
But she didn’t want to leave him, either. He had to be as tired as she was. “We can both—”
“Go, Sarah,” he said firmly. “And that’s an order.”
She still didn’t want to ditch him, but at that moment, another woman walked into the waiting room. A woman with blond hair and green eyes. A woman who focused only on Gabe.
“Eve?” Gabe demanded, sounding stunned, and he shot to his feet. “What are you doing here? I was coming home—”