Worth Dying For (36 page)

The large man held out his hand. “I’m Detective Robert Sloan, Homicide.”

Edwards shook his outstretched hand. “I’m Assistant Deputy Director Kyle Edwards, FBI.”

“Pleased to meet you, Director, I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Likewise, Detective. How did you get here so fast?”

Detective Sloan nodded toward one of the officers standing over by Rheyna’s Jeep.

“They found this when they lifted up her body and called me first thing,” he said, pulling out a baggie containing a single marble. He handed it to Edwards.

“This look familiar to you?”

Edwards looked at the marble. “Yes, unfortunately,” he said as he glanced around, looking at the people crowded behind the police tape. He turned to the detective. “Where’s the girl who found her?” he asked.

Detective Sloan pointed at Molly and her girlfriend. They were talking with a uniformed officer on the other side of the street. Edwards crossed the street and walked up to the women.

“Which one of you is Molly?” he asked.

“I’m Molly and this is Tracy,” the shorter of the two answered. He recognized her voice. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked.
 

“I don’t know, but I sure hope so,” he answered honestly. He looked at the various news crews, now on scene setting up their equipment behind the police tape.
So much for containment
, he thought wryly. He turned back to the women and placed his hand under Molly’s elbow. “Let’s go over here, where we can talk,” he said, leading them over to the edge of the alley where they would be well out of earshot. He looked at Molly. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

“Tracy and I had just left the bar when we saw a couple of men standing over by the Jeep. They were laughing and to tell you the truth, they looked a little out of place. We figured they might be up to something.”

“How many were there?”

“Two,” she answered without hesitation.

“Did you get a good look at them?” She shook her head. “Not good enough, I’m afraid. Without the lights, it’s pretty dark out here. They took off running toward the alley when we yelled at them.”

“They were wearing suits,” Tracy volunteered.

Castrucci’s men
, he thought as he took a card out of his pocket and handed it to Molly. “If you think of anything else, please call me.” He nodded toward the detective. “I’d appreciate it if you would give Detective Sloan your names and a number where we can reach you.”

He thanked the women and turned to go back to his car. He had no doubt that Castrucci was behind this. He had sent his hit man to take care of Rheyna. He opened the car door and heard his cell ringing. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Laura.

“It’s not good, Laura,” he said into the phone. “Castrucci got to her, and she’s in real bad shape. I’ll meet you over at San Francisco General—and make sure you call Caroline.”

He hung up the phone and pulled the sedan away from the curb. It took him less than five minutes to get to the hospital. He parked his car in the emergency room parking lot and shut off the engine, leaning his head against the steering wheel as he tried to pull himself together.

Everything had happened so fast, and he had so many unanswered questions. He knew the doctors were inside doing everything they could to save Rheyna, but she was in such bad shape.

His thoughts turned to Caroline and the conversation he had with Laura earlier in the day regarding Rheyna. Since Laura was Rheyna’s case agent, it was her job to keep him updated on everything concerning Rheyna and the Pandora’s Box Operation. He knew Rheyna had fallen in love with Caroline and he was okay with it, as long as it didn’t jeopardize the operation. His gut was telling him otherwise, that more likely than not, their love for each other had been the real catalyst for this attack.

He no longer had doubt about an internal leak. He knew the leak was responsible for this. The realization troubled him deeply. He thought about Artie. Was it possible that he had been snowballed by Artie’s persistent pleas of innocence? Although they had proof that Artie had taken the money from the evidence room and proof that the meeting with Mancini was indeed an accident, was it possible that Artie had planned all of it in order to hide his true deception?

Could Artie have leaked Rheyna’s identity before they arrested him? And what about the money—where was all the money that Artie would have received over the years? If he had that much money, why would he be in such dire straits? They knew he was in debt as bad as he claimed. Ron had verified everything. These were questions he just didn’t have the answer to. He looked out the window toward the hospital. The leak he thought was contained was the very reason that his agent was in the hospital, fighting for her life.

He wracked his brain, thinking about the countless documents that Ron, the Deputy Director, and he had reviewed. They had spent hours searching for the one common link between all of the deaths, coming up empty every time. The closest they had come was tying Artie to two of the deaths.

He knew it was in front of his face, but he couldn’t see it or maybe you don’t want to see it, a little voice inside his head said as he opened the car door. He needed to make some phone calls. He needed to call Rheyna’s parents. It was only a matter of time before the local and then national news stations learned Rheyna was an undercover FBI agent.

He was sure Laura had phoned Caroline by now. It was bad enough she would learn the truth, but they couldn’t let her find out through a newscast. Rheyna wouldn’t want that, and it was the least he could do after everything she had risked for this operation.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to go inside the building. He stopped at the nurse’s station and showed the nurse behind the desk his badge. “A young woman was brought in earlier from over on Lexington. Can you tell me what room she’s in?” he asked.

She picked up the clipboard in front of her and scanned the pages. “She’s in surgery right now and then she’ll be moved to the ICU. We have her in room twenty-three, twenty-two,” she said, writing the room number on a card. She handed it to him and then pointed to a row of elevators at the end of the hall. “Take the one on the right up to the second floor and turn left.”

“Thank you,” he said, and turned to walk away. He stopped and looked back at her. “Can you tell me where her surgeon’s office is located?”
 

She glanced at the page. “His office is just to the left of the nurse’s station on the same floor.”

“Thank you,” he said as he headed toward the elevator. He rode the elevator up to the second floor and found the doctor’s office. He let himself in and took a seat just inside the door, where he sat for a good forty-five minutes, lost in his thoughts. He looked up when the door opened. “How’s my agent doing?” he asked after the doctor took a seat behind his desk.

“I have to be honest with you. Right now, it doesn’t look good. We were fortunate to get the bleeding stopped, but her injuries are more extensive than just a knife wound. She took a severe beating to the head, which caused intracranial pressure on her brain. In addition to that, she has a broken jaw and an orbital fracture to the right eye socket. We currently have her in a medically induced coma to try and relieve the pressure.”

Edwards looked at the doctor with a stunned expression. “Okay, doc. In laymen’s terms, what does all that mean, exactly?”
 

“It means that she’s in very serious condition and if she does survive, there’s a significant chance she’ll have brain damage.”

“Is she going to die?” Edwards reluctantly asked the question he was thinking.

“Unfortunately, that’s a real possibility,” he said, coming from around the desk to take a seat next to Edwards.

“This can’t be happening. This just can’t be happening,” Edwards said, shaking his head. He looked at the doctor. “Okay, what’s next?”
 

“For now, we can only wait and see, and hope that your agent is one helluva a fighter.”

###

Laura quietly closed the door to Rheyna’s room and stepped out into the hallway. She wiped the tears from her eyes.
This is all my fault
, she thought as she sat down on one of the chairs a few doors down from Rheyna’s room. If she hadn’t let her cell die, if she had replaced the battery, none of this would have happened. She looked at the two FBI agents posted outside Rheyna’s room and leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. She thought about Caroline.

Calling the Castrucci house was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She had spoken with Caroline’s mother and told her that Rheyna had been in an accident and was badly injured. Caroline’s mother was very upset and that was to be expected. She had thanked Laura for calling and said she would bring Caroline to the hospital as soon as possible.

It was only a matter of time before they arrived. She shook her head, not having the foggiest idea of what to say to them. She couldn’t very well tell them that her bastard of a husband and father had done this to Rheyna.

She heard footsteps and raised her head. Edwards knelt down in front of her and rested his hands on her knees. “Did you call Caroline?” he asked.

She nodded. “I spoke with her mother. They’re on the way.” She took a deep breath and stood up.

Edwards took her hand in his, and they walked back to Rheyna’s room.

Stevens was standing near the bed, staring blankly out the window. Edwards’ heart caught in his throat when he saw Rheyna. He sat down on the chair next to her bed and picked up her hand, holding it gently between his. Her face was so severely beaten that if he didn’t know it was Rheyna, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She had numerous tubes coming from her body, and he wondered how on earth she had survived to this point.

He knew if it had been any other agent, by now, they would be dead. He also knew that if anyone could make it through this, it was Rheyna. He looked at the bandage surrounding her head. He could see where several strands of her hair, soaked with blood, hung thickly on her shoulders. At the head of her bed, an artificial ventilating machine had been set up, its tubes connected to Rheyna’s mouth. It beeped loudly, pulsing, and then hissing each time the ventilator breathed for her. He glanced up at the heart monitor—its beeping sound gave him an eerie feeling.

“This is my fault,” Laura said as she blew her nose in a tissue.

He got up and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “No, it’s not. You didn’t do this to her.” He tilted her chin and forced her to look at him. “You can’t blame yourself for this. Rheyna wouldn’t want that.”

She shook her head, unable to contain the tears streaming down her face. “Her nurse … her nurse was in earlier,” she struggled to get the words out. “They think the bastard raped her.”

Before Edwards could reply, the door opened and a nurse walked in. She checked the lines running from the IV bottles hanging at the end of the bed.

Without warning, the alarm on the heart monitor went off, and Rheyna’s body lifted off the bed, jerking with convulsions. The nurse pressed a button on the wall as the monitor flat-lined.

“You three need to leave now!” she yelled.

They left the room as a speaker above Rheyna’s bed began repeating, “Code blue room two-three, two-two, code blue room two-three, two-two.”

They stood helpless in the hall and watched as a flurry of hospital staff ran into the room, followed by an orderly pushing a crash cart. Rheyna’s surgeon came running down the hall and went into the room. Edwards saw the doctor place a set of paddles on Rheyna’s chest. He heard the doctor say, “Clear,” just before a nurse pulled the door shut.

At the end of the hall, the elevator buzzer dinged, and the door opened. They all turned to see Caroline, followed by Terasa, and Vincent, step into the hallway. Caroline saw Laura and ran toward her. It took everything she and Edwards had to prevent Caroline from going into Rheyna’s room. They held onto her as the flurry of movement in and out of Rheyna’s room continued.