Iron Goddess (24 page)

Detective Rios told her to hold on, but Shea had trouble focusing her mind. She felt like she was lying with a rock sticking into her back, even though she was on her stomach. Pain and darkness filled her consciousness.

A man in a dark blue shirt rolled her over, intensifying the pain in her back.

“Can you tell me your name?”

Brown eyes. Thick lashes. Was he wearing eyeliner? Why all the questions? Do I know what happened to me? What happened?

Something was put over her mouth. A cup of some kind. Everything started bouncing.
What's that loud chup-chup-chup sound? Helicopter.
The pain lessened, but she still couldn't focus. Everything was happening too fast.

When she came to again, she was lying in a hospital bed. Her body hurt all over, especially her back and right shoulder. A brace and sling held her right arm firmly across her chest. A vitals monitor beeped nonstop, giving her a headache. “Can someone turn off that goddamned beeping?”

“Shea?” Jessica walked into view, her eyes red and swollen. Dark streaks of mascara lined her cheeks.

“Hey, Jess.” She struggled to keep her eyes open. “Where am I?”

“You're in the hospital. Someone shot you.”

She tried to remember. “Willie. I shot Willie.” She took a deep breath and winced. “Someone shot me. The geeky detective. What's his name? Edelweiss. No. Edelman.”

“I'm just glad you're alive.” Jessica's soft hand felt warm on Shea's cheek. “Doctor said the bullet hit one of your ribs, but stopped short of your kidney.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “You also have a fractured collarbone.”

“It'll be all right, honey.” Shea wanted to kiss away her tears. “Can you make the beeping stop?”

“I pressed the button. Nurse should be here in a minute.”

A young gal wearing oversized eyeglasses and teal scrubs walked in the room. Brown-black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her name tag read Svetlana. She pressed a few buttons on the vitals monitor. The beeping stopped. “Can I get you anything, darling?” she asked with a slight accent.

“Water.” Her mouth felt full of cotton.

“I'll go fill up a pitcher for you.” She walked out as Terrance came in.

He hugged Jessica and pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Good morning.”

“Is it morning already? Damn.”

“I found something that might cheer you up.” Terrance smiled and pulled something out of his pocket.

“What?”

“The lighter Lenny gave you.” He handed it to her. “I felt bad about throwing it out, so I went back and looked on the side of the road and found it. Even had Lakota polish out the scratches.”

Shea wrapped her fingers around it, the metal still warm from being in Terrance's pocket. “Thanks, dude. That means a lot.”

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“Hunter and the MC showed up at the Jaguars' warehouse. Everybody started shooting.”

“Do I want to know any more?”

“Probably best you don't.”

“No, but
I
do.” Rios walked in the room with a stack of folders under one arm. “I need to question Ms. Stevens.”

Terrance looked at her. “Jessica, maybe you and I should go for a walk.”

“No,” Shea mumbled. “Don't leave.”

He stood up. “I'll be back shortly, girl.”

Rios closed the door to the room and sat down in the chair Terrance had just vacated.

“What do you want?” Shea asked.

“Gee, where do I begin?” She held up a couple of files and set it down on the bedside table. “You, an ex-con, were found at the scene of a murder four days ago in possession of a gun that's tied to no less than eleven other unsolved murders. Then there's the multiple casualties at the warehouse found just up the road from where you crashed your motorcycle.”

She set down another file on the first. “Two days ago, we found a Ford Mustang registered to your sister wrecked and abandoned at the bottom of a hill off I-17 along with numerous shell casings from a 40-caliber semiautomatic that matches the Glock we found on you.”

“Seriously?”

“That same evening your sister, four members of the Confederate Thunder, and one member of the Jaguars were found dead in a south Ironwood neighborhood. According to the report, a woman was spotted leaving the scene on a motorcycle with a young girl on the back. I'm guessing that was you and your niece.”

She pulled out two more files and laid them on the stack. “And finally, there's the incident that landed you in here, where you shot and killed a Cortes County Sheriff's deputy.”

“I want my lawyer.”

“Someone called for me?” Justin knocked and opened the door.

Shea wondered if the pain meds were messing with her sense of time. “How'd you get here so fast?”

“Your friend Mr. Douglas rang me up a little bit ago, said the Sheriff's Office was camped outside your room. So I camped out in the waiting room until Mr. Douglas said I was needed.” He nodded at Detective Rios. “Nice to see you again, Detective.”

“Mr. Bryce, your client appears to be involved with multiple criminal incidents. I have a lot of questions that need answering.”

“Detective, would you mind if I consult with my client? Then perhaps we can answer those questions.”

“I'll be outside.” She left.

Justin looked at Shea and sighed. “Want to give me a rundown?”

For the next forty minutes, Shea recounted the events of the past few days. Justin listened and made notes. Svetlana interrupted briefly with a much-needed pitcher of water.

When Shea finished, Justin said, “Well, I must say, you have had an exciting week. Sorry to hear about your sister.”

“Thanks. Do they got a case against me?”

“Maybe. We can argue self-defense on your shooting Sergeant Foster. However, running from the cops on the motorcycle, possession of the Beretta, and your involvement at the Jaguars' warehouse are a bit more problematic from a defense point of view.”

Not what she wanted to hear. “You're saying I'm screwed?”

“Not necessarily. Tell her what you know about the Thunder, the Jaguars, and Sergeant Foster's pet project. If we play this right, I might be able to get the charges waived.”

He stood up and ushered Detective Rios back in.

“So?” she asked.

Justin smiled. Shea liked it when he smiled. “My client would be happy to provide information related to your investigations into these matters, provided she is given full immunity from all charges.”

“What kind of information could your client provide?”

“She witnessed multiple felonies, including murders and drug trafficking, committed by members of the Confederate Thunder Motorcycle Club, the Jaguars street gang, and your very own Sergeant Foster and Detective Edelman.”

“Let me hear what she has to say. If it's of value, I can talk with the DA about a possible deal.”

Once again, Shea ran down the events of the past few days starting with the break-in through to her rescuing Annie at the shootout in Ironwood's barrio. She didn't like ratting anyone else out. But after all she'd been through with Willie, the Jags, and the MC, she was happy to name names.

Rios asked a lot of probing questions that put Shea on the defensive. Justin ran interference, making sure Shea didn't stick her foot in her mouth and blow her chances at immunity.

After two hours of questioning, the pain in her back was getting to her. “I've told you all I know. Now someone get the nurse in here. My back is killing me.”

“I think that should be enough to earn my client immunity. Yes?”

Rios looked at Shea as she processed the idea. “I think the DA can be persuaded on one condition—Ms. Stevens agrees to be a confidential informant for the Sheriff's Office on future interactions with the Confederate Thunder, the Jaguars, or any other organization we deem criminal in nature.”

“I don't deal with any criminal organizations. Not normally, anyway. I build motorcycles. That's it.”

“And I want to stop organized crime in this county. Word on the street is an all-female motorcycle club called the Athena Sisterhood is establishing a charter somewhere here in central Arizona. That could lead to conflicts with the Thunder. I may need you to be my eyes and ears.”

Justin whispered into her ear. “Take the offer. No one's saying you have to get involved with anyone. But if you happen to hear about something going on, let the detective know. No big deal.”

“I don't like snitching, Justin. I just wanna build motorcycles.”

“This deal will keep you doing that. I suggest you take it.”

Shea looked up at Detective Rios. “Fine. I'll be your snitch.”

“Glad to hear it.” Rios reached over and shook Shea's hand. “I look forward to working with you.”

“What about Annie?”

“Once she's released from the hospital, she'll be put in a temporary foster home until the court can decide—”

“I want her.” The words came out of her mouth before she realized she was saying it.

“You?” Rios raised an eyebrow. “You want custody?”

“Why not? She's my niece. I'm all the family she's got left, right?”

“You sure about this, kiddo?” asked Justin. “An eight-year-old is a big responsibility. Trust me, I raised four kids and now have three grandkids.”

“I'll figure it out. Now that all this nonsense is over, I should be able to provide her a loving, stable home.”

Rios sighed. “All right, I'll get with the Department of Child Safety and see about transferring custody once you're released from here.”

An unexpected wave of calm filled Shea, more than when she finished the Pink Trinkets' bikes. “Thanks. Now can a girl get some pain meds up in here?”

“I'll get a nurse,” said Justin as he ducked out of the room.

“I'll let you know when I hear back from DCS. In the meantime, get some rest.” Rios put a gentle hand on Shea's arm. “And off the record, I'm glad you shot Sergeant Foster.”

“For the record,” said Shea with a smirk, “I wish you had shot your asshole partner sooner.”

The next morning, Shea woke to find Jessica reading in a chair next to the bed.

“Hey.” Shea's throat felt dry and raw, but much of the pain from the day before was gone.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jessica's smile made the room feel brighter. “How ya feeling?”

“Like I lost a fight with a Mack truck. How's Annie?”

“They moved her to a regular room just down the hall. Don't know much else.”

“I gotta see her.” Shea pressed the button on the bed's control panel to lower her legs and raise her head.

Jessica lowered the railing on one side. “You sure you're up for walking?”

Shea harrumphed. “Damn nurse forced me to get outta bed last night and I felt like shit. Can't be any worse today.”

With help from Jess, she maneuvered her legs to the edge of the bed, feeling twinges of pain in her back from the bullet and along her calf from the road rash. She tightened her jaw and pushed through it. Jessica grabbed Shea's left arm and pulled her up into a sitting position. Shea waited a minute to catch her breath, then lowered her feet to the floor.

An exhausting ten-minute walk later, Shea and Jessica arrived at Annie's room. There was no guard posted, which Shea took as a positive sign.

Jess opened the door. Shea shuffled in and saw Dr. Patel standing over the bed. “Oh, hello. Are you Annie's family?”

“I'm her aunt.”

Annie's head popped out from behind the doctor. “Aunt Shea?”

“Hey, kiddo.”

Dr. Patel tilted his head, as if trying to remember something. “Have I seen you here before?”

“You're treating my employee Derek Williams down in ICU. Gunshot victim.”

“Well, I hope you can control yourself better than last time.” His nostrils flared as his Indian accent grew thicker. “I will not put up with any shenanigans this time.”

“Seriously? Does it look like I'm up to shenanigans? I can barely walk.” She held his gaze for a moment. “What's going on with Annie?”

“We were able to reattach the ear, though we had to remove some necrotic tissue. We are using leeches to help maintain blood flow until her body can repair the veins that return the blood to the body.”

“Did you say leeches?” Shea plopped into a chair as a wave of nausea hit her. “Is this some third-world, holistic bullshit from India?”

Dr. Patel shook his head. “Not at all. The leeches drain blood from the injury site to prevent clotting. They do a far better job restoring blood flow than the best vascular surgeons. Trust me, it's state-of-the-art medical practice.”

The idea made Shea's stomach churn. “Is it painful?”

“Not at all. She'll hardly know it's there.”

“How about her infection?”

“We have given her antibiotics to treat the sepsis. Her temperature is returning to normal and her blood pressure is improving.”

“How soon before she's released?” asked Jessica.

“Let me take a look real quick.” The doctor stepped toward the head of the bed. Shea moved back to allow him to check Annie's ear.

Annie whimpered and scrunched her face when he lifted the bandage and examined it using a penlight. “Yes, it looks good. The redness around the wound site is much improved.” He put the bandage back in place and stepped away. “It should take about five days to restore the circulation in the ear. Assuming there are no more signs of infection, we will release her then.”

Shea thought about the idea of getting custody.
Would Annie want to live with me? And what would Jessica think?

“Thanks for your help.”

“You are most welcome. Goodbye, Annie.” He waved as he walked out.