Wanted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 8) (16 page)

She nodded, wiped away a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “I’m okay. The cramping’s already better.”

He hoped that was true. “Good.”

“We’re gonna take her to the hospital and get her checked out, just in case,” the paramedic told him as he inflated the blood pressure cuff on her upper arm.

“Okay.” Clay didn’t know if Zoe had just said that to make him feel better, but he smiled at her regardless, needing to reassure her and make her feel calm. “I’m glad it’s easing up, but we’ll get a doctor to check you over to make sure.”

God, he hoped the baby was okay, but the cramping couldn’t be a good sign, and all the stress she’d just gone through, combined with the impact…yeah, he’d breathe easier once a doctor saw her.

When she nodded he bent to kiss her softly on the lips. “See you soon. Love you, raven.”

“Love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking, face crumpling.

Ah, hell. Leaving her this way when she was on the verge of tears made him feel like shit, but he really needed to make sure everything was locked down. He wanted this threat over with, wanted whoever else was involved in cuffs—or dead—before the night was over.

Clay walked over to Tuck, so tangled up inside he felt like he was being torn apart. “What’s up?”

“I sent a picture of the female perp to Rycroft. He called a few minutes later, said he had an ID for her. He can’t confirm it officially until the techs send in her fingerprints, but apparently his insider source identified her right away from the picture.”

Clay frowned. That was fast. She must have a prior record then. “Who is she?”

“Amanda Whitaker. Former DEA employee, who got involved with Carlos Ruiz.”

Clay’s jaw went tight, his hands squeezing into fists. “That motherfucker.” Clay had taken the dirty undercover DEA agent out personally in the raid to rescue Zoe and the other female captive outside of New Orleans.

“Yeah. And apparently Miss Whitaker didn’t stop there. She got insider info from Ruiz, used it after he was killed and infiltrated the Fuentes cartel. She latched onto Alvarez for a while before we went after him.”

The cartel lieutenant had died from one of his own men’s grenades during the op. Clay took a certain savage satisfaction in knowing that. “So that’s how she knew about the reward money Fuentes offered.”

Tuck nodded. “Rycroft figures she still had contacts within the cartel and the DEA, was using them to get intel she needed.”

Clay cast a glance over to the busted-up car where other FBI agents were processing the scene. He shook his head once, fury burning inside him all over again. “Where are the guys?” he asked Tuck.

“Over there.” He nodded toward the end of the first warehouse. “DeLuca’s waiting for my call once we’re all together.”

Clay followed him over, maintaining awareness of their surroundings with every step. He didn’t think Whitaker’s male accomplice would be suicidal enough to come after them here with all the law enforcement and agents around, but he wasn’t betting on it.

One of the team’s tactical vehicles was parked outside the perimeter with a bunch of other patrol cars. All the guys were there in their tactical gear, even Vance, with his immobilized arm. They were standing in a group, watching as Clay and Tuck approached.

“How’s Zoe?” Cruzie called out.

He couldn’t tell them what was happening because then they’d all know about the baby. “Think she’s okay. They’re taking her in just to be sure.”

“That’s good.”

“Female perp’s dead,” he told them. “Former DEA employee, hooked up with Ruiz and other people in the Fuentes cartel.”

Shocked sounds and faces met his announcement.

“But Zo said she was working with at least one other person. Could be the shooter, and if so, he’s still out there, so be aware. I’m gonna check with Rycroft on that, see if he knows anything.” He got on his phone and dialed the NSA agent while Tuck called DeLuca.

“Bauer. Zoe all right?” Rycroft asked.

“She’s fine,” he lied, “but she said Whitaker was talking to someone named Dom. I think it must be our shooter.” And he prayed it was just one other person involved in this plot. He wanted this asshole and anyone else involved with the plot caught
tonight
.

“Anything else?”

“According to Celida those were high-power rounds through the window of the shop. Add that in with the ambulance bomb and it tells me this person had training. I’m thinking an enforcer-type.”

Who was obviously a hell of a lot smarter than Whitaker and had decided to take off after the bombing rather than risk coming here.

“I’ll check with my source and get back to you ASAP. Hang tight.”

Clay hung up and nodded at Tuck, who was giving him a questioning look. They were in a secluded enough area so Tuck put his phone on speaker. “We’re all here.”

“Good,” DeLuca answered. “We’re waiting for more intel here at the local office, and there’s a task force already hunting for the shooter. As of right now you’re all on standby.” He listed off more instructions, then finished with, “So everybody get in to HQ and get your equipment ready.”

Clay opened his mouth to argue, thought better of saying anything in front of the others, and gestured for Tuck’s phone. When his buddy handed it over, Clay turned it off speaker and put it to his ear, walking a few steps away for more privacy, and lowering his voice.

“Listen, Zoe’s not really okay. The car she was in hit the front of the building and now she’s having cramps. They’re taking her to the hospital right now. We’re not sure if she’s miscarrying.” Even saying the word filled him with dread.

“Ah, shit, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I need to be with her,” he said before DeLuca could continue. Protocol dictated that while on standby, everyone had to be at HQ or whatever base they were being housed at. But this time he just couldn’t do it.

“I understand,” DeLuca said. “All right, you go to the hospital, but keep your phone on you.”

Clay let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.”

DeLuca grunted. “Let me know if I can do anything in the meantime.”

“I will.” He’d just hung up when Rycroft called back.

“Hey,” Clay answered. “Anything?”

“Yep. Looks like the shooter’s probably Dominic Grande, an up and comer with the Fuentes enforcers. I’ve activated an APB for him. With every law enforcement agency in the area looking for him, he won’t get far.”

Good, Clay thought savagely. With any luck he wouldn’t go quietly, and would wind up as dead as his female accomplice. As much as he wanted to head out immediately and hunt the fucker down, Clay wanted to be with Zoe more right now. “Thanks, man. Keep me updated.”

He hung up and told the guys the news.

Schroder frowned. “Man. Who the hell is this ‘inside source’ he’s got?”

“Dunno. Don’t care, as long as his intel is good.” His phone buzzed with an incoming text. Celida. They’d just left to take Zoe to the hospital. “Look, I gotta go.”

Tuck slapped him on the shoulder. “Go ahead, man. I’ll call you if anything goes down.”

“Thanks.” He turned and raced for his truck, needing to get to Zoe.

Zoe laid a hand against her abdomen and prayed for patience. The agents were just doing their jobs, and they were being nice, but she still wanted them gone. All that mattered to her right now was finding out if the baby was okay or not.

“So she was talking to someone named Dom right before the crash?” the middle-aged agent asked her.

She was propped up slightly in the hospital bed, waiting for a nurse to bring a portable ultrasound machine in to examine her with. If they were able to detect the baby’s heartbeat, Zoe would feel a whole lot better. They’d already done an initial exam, found some spotting on her underwear but the cramps seemed to be subsiding now.

The fear wasn’t.

“Yes.”

It was the second time she’d had to answer that question, while Clay was busy taking care of all the medical paperwork for her. And the cops had already told her they’d be coming by later to take her statement as well.

She understood these agents needed to check her story, make sure she stayed consistent since she had no witnesses about what transpired in the car. Plus this was still an ongoing investigation, because whoever Dom was, he was still out there. Although she just wanted to ensure her baby was okay, she knew she’d have to give her statement anyhow. She’d killed a woman.

She mentally pushed the sickening thought aside. It was too much to think about on top of everything else.

The curtain whipped aside and Clay stood there, his eyebrows crashed together in a fierce frown. He took one look at her, then the FBI agents, and his expression turned murderous. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

Zoe reached out a hand, grasped his forearm. The muscles beneath her palm were strung taut as cables. “Clay, it’s all right.”

He didn’t look at her, still melting holes through the detectives with his eyes. “It’s not all right. They can goddamn wait until you’re checked out to question you. I leave you for ten fucking minutes and they swarm you like sharks.”

The agent who had been questioning her held up his hands in self-defense, while his partner backed up a step. “We asked Ms. Renard if she’d consent to answering questions while she waited for the doctor to come see her.”

“I don’t care what she said,” Clay fired back. “She’s not in any condition to make a statement right now, and she’s not talking to you or anyone else until the doctor gives her medical clearance and she’s free to go. Now get the hell out.”

The first agent shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry, Ms. Renard. Of course we’ll wait for your statement.” He and his partner exited the curtained-off cubicle and closed the curtains behind them.

Clay immediately turned to her, took the hand on his arm and put his other on the side of her face. “They had no right,” he began, but she cut him off.

“It’s okay. I had nothing to do but lie here and worry anyhow.” She wanted this nightmare over with and behind her, including all the statements and paperwork. She just wanted to know the baby was okay, then go home with Clay and stay in bed for the next week.

At that Clay’s expression darkened all over again. He looked at the now closed curtains in exasperation. “Where the hell are the nurses?”

“Busy. This is the emergency ward. There are people in here in way worse shape than me.”

He didn’t appear mollified by her statement. He dragged the chair in the corner over and sank into it, still holding her hand. She was glad to have him close. Celida had gone back to the scene to help with the investigation once he’d shown up. “So how are you feeling?” he asked.

The baby was her only concern. She couldn’t even process the rest of what had happened yet. “Just worried. Cramping’s pretty much gone now, but they found a little blood.”

Concern flickered in his blue eyes. She knew he hated not being able to do anything to fix this for her. “What did they say?”

“They said it’s probably nothing to be too concerned about. I’ve got mild bruising on my hipbones from where the lap belt caught me when we hit the building, and my neck’s a tiny bit sore from the impact. They’re bringing an ultrasound in to check the baby.” The waiting was making her anxiety worse.

Still looking worried, he nodded and stroked her hair. He was such a big, powerful man, his gentleness undid her.

As she lay there waiting, bits and pieces of what had happened tonight kept coming back to her, like snapshots on a high-speed slideshow. “So, how bad is this going to be?” she asked him a few moments later.

“What do you mean?”

“What I did.” The fingers of her free hand plucked at the thin blanket they’d draped over her. “To her.”

“Amanda Whitaker.”

She stared at him, fingers stilling. “What?”

“That’s her name. Former DEA employee who hooked up with Carlos Ruiz.” His voice was flat, anger burning in his blue eyes.

The mention of that name made her feel even colder. She’d thought that whole nightmare in New Orleans was long behind her.

She’d thought wrong.

“What about that Dom person?” she asked.

“Rycroft has a source who identified him as a former Fuentes enforcer. Every law enforcement agency on the eastern seaboard is out looking for him right now.”

This…Amanda person had sent a Fuentes enforcer after her? She repressed a shudder.

“They were using you to target us. Apparently Fuentes offered a huge cash reward to anyone who could take one of us out.”

Zoe gasped, horror washing through her. “I never even thought…”

“None of us did, and we put the pieces together too late. Anyway, you’re not going to be charged with anything, trust me. You did what you had to do to defend yourself, and on top of that you didn’t even mean to pull the trigger.” He leaned in and kissed her temple, her cheek. “Don’t worry about that, okay?”

Zoe nodded, but frowned as she mentally reviewed what had transpired in the car. “In the heat of the moment I wasn’t thinking about shooting her. I just wanted to get the gun and somehow hold her off long enough for me to escape. I knew Celida would have police coming after us at least.”

He made a rough sound in the back of his throat and bent to rest his forehead against their joined hands. “You did great, baby. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was scared out of my fucking mind.”

Yes, but the baby…

She didn’t say it, because she knew they were both worried as hell something bad had happened. She swallowed. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but…” Her voice caught and she swallowed again. “I really want this baby.”

Clay kissed the back of her hand and nodded, his expression tormented. “I know. I do too.”

His admission pushed all the emotions she’d been holding back to the surface, putting her perilously close to tears. “You do?”

He stared down at her, those blue eyes full of love and concern. “Yeah, I really do. I love you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive when you first told me.”

“I don’t blame you for not being thrilled at first. It was a shock.”