Sherri Shackelford – Killer Amnesia (страница 7)
Two tables, each set with four bright orange molded chairs, were scattered throughout the space.
Determined to get ahold of herself, she turned toward the coffee maker. A variety of single-serve cups overflowed the basket, and she chose one labeled Breakfast Blend. Fisting her hand around the plastic, she squeezed her eyes shut, welcoming the pain as the sharp edges dug into her palm.
This wasn’t fair. Why did she instinctively reach for the coffee she liked, but she couldn’t remember her own name?
She snorted softly. Her name could have been Jane Doe for all the sense “Emma” made to her.
As she reached for the coffee maker, the room plunged into darkness. Blood rushed in her ears. She took a cautious step toward the exit, her hands outstretched like a blind, lurching mummy. Gooseflesh pebbled her skin.
Someone was in the room with her. She didn’t know how she knew; she just did.
“Hello?” she called, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Tim?”
Fabric dropped over her head and strong arms crushed her middle, robbing the air from her lungs.
She expanded her chest to scream, catching a mouthful of cloth and the unmistakable odor of bleach.
A hand clamped over her face, and she clawed at the arm circling her waist. The man was taller than her and stronger. Her fingers sank into the soft flesh of his arm. He jerked her against his chest, and her injured shoulder throbbed in agony. Her vision blurred.
Her attacker squeezed tighter, and her knees grew weak.
“Don’t faint on me,” a low voice growled near her ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Stars exploded at the edges of her vision, and she frantically stomped on the man’s instep while simultaneously jabbing her elbow into his solar plexus. He grunted, his grip loosening. She struggled away but he yanked her backward, trapping both arms against her sides.
“You’re a fighter,” her attacker growled. “I like that.”
Nausea threatened, and her rib cage ached. Her lungs felt as though they were going to explode. She lifted her foot to stomp again, but her attacker easily moved out of reach. The lack of oxygen was draining her. She had to breathe. Her muscles were weak and sluggish, refusing to cooperate.
An odd sense of calm invaded her chaotic thoughts. She was suffocating mere feet from safety. She couldn’t give up. Not yet. Not now.
Her pulse thrummed, and with a burst of fury, she wrested one arm free. Instinct took over. His eyes were vulnerable. She reached behind and above her, searching for his face, but the angle was too awkward. Tearing at the cloth instead, she managed to free her mouth.
As she let loose an earsplitting scream, a savage blow knocked her to the ground, and her attacker’s low whisper vibrated near her ear. “We aren’t finished yet.”
Liam stuffed his phone into his pocket and glared at the slumbering security guard. No wonder his calls had gone unanswered. A paper cup with the last dredges of coffee rested on the floor beside the chair leg. The caffeine wasn’t working.
He nudged the guard’s toe with his foot. “Wake up, sunshine.”
Tim slumped to one side. Liam’s pulse spiked, and he lunged. He lowered the bulky guard to the patterned tile floor. Pressing two fingers to the base of Tim’s throat, he noted a strong, steady pulse thumping beneath his fingertips.
The guard mumbled something, his eyes fluttering.
Liam glanced at the coffee cup. Had the guard been drugged? He showed all the classic signs of an overdose. Thankfully, the man’s pulse was normal and his breathing steady.
Confident Tim was in no imminent danger, Liam straightened and shouldered his way into the patient’s room. “Emma?”
The space was empty. The bed was neatly made. Forcing his emotions aside, he ran through the possible scenarios. There were no signs of a struggle. Though the hospital wasn’t exactly teeming with activity, it also wasn’t so deserted that someone could drug and kidnap Emma without being noticed. She must have been forced out with a threat. But how long ago?
A sound brought him around so quickly his shoes squeaked.
“What’s wrong with Tim?” A redheaded nurse in navy scrubs decorated with pink, frolicking kittens appeared. “What happened?”
She knelt before the prone man and began taking his vitals.
“I think he’s been drugged,” Liam said. “And don’t touch that cup.”
She gave a clipped nod. “I’ll inform the doctor.”
“Have you seen Emma? The patient in this room?”
“Went for coffee.” The nurse jerked a thumb over her shoulder without taking her attention from the prone security guard. “Down the hall. Last door on the left.”
A thump sounded. Liam glanced at the cordoned-off section of the hospital wing. Too early for construction workers.
Someone screamed, the sound cutting off abruptly.
A familiar rush of adrenaline surged through his blood. Retrieving his service weapon, he extended his arm. He crossed the distance and maneuvered through the plastic sheeting toward the sound.
“Emma!”
The corridor was plunged in darkness, and he reached for his flashlight before recalling he hadn’t yet replaced the one he’d lost two days ago.
“Emma!” he called again.
His shin cracked against a stack of construction supplies. Righting himself, he fumbled for the wall, using his left hand to guide him through the pitch-black corridor.
His fingers bumped against a switch. The sudden shock of light temporarily blinded him.
A flash of orange sailed through the air, and a molded plastic chair bounced painfully off his forearm before clattering to the floor.
She came at him like a wildcat.
“Emma!” He stumbled backward, deflecting her blows, but not before she clocked him in the jaw. Stinging pain fired through his cheek. “It’s me, Liam.”
Recognition seemed to wash over Emma, and she sagged.
He quickly stowed his weapon with one hand and caught her against his chest with the other. “It’s all right, it’s over. You’re safe.”
“A man. There was a man.” She turned her face into his shirt, muffling her voice. “He tried to suffocate me. He said...he said,
Liam’s training urged him to follow the perpetrator, but his arms tightened around Emma. Catching himself, he pulled away. There were only two ways to exit the building from this location, and Liam had come from one of them.
“It’s going to be all right.” He threaded his fingers through her dark silken hair and urged her to meet his gaze. “Wait here.”
The tips of her eyelashes sparkled with unshed tears, and his heartbeat tripped. Eyes like that were the reason cops quit hanging out with the guys after work and went straight home instead. They were the reason the pictures on their phones changed from deer camps to hospital nurseries. Eyes like that were dangerous.
“I’ll be fine.” She touched the bandage at her temple, her fingers trembling. “Catch him.”
His senses vibrating on high alert, Liam sprinted the distance and kicked open the exit door to an empty parking lot on the far side of the building.
Sheeting rain hindered visibility. Forcing his fisted hands to relax, he scanned the perimeter. No cars. No people. Nothing.
Traffic rumbled past on the highway to his left. A vehicle needed thirty seconds to melt into oblivion. At least three minutes had passed since he’d first heard the commotion.
Above his head, a shiny new security camera perched beneath the eaves. A wide grin spread across his face. Nothing like modern technology to make the job a little easier.
He rang the station for backup before returning inside.
The break room was empty, and he had a brief moment of panic before discovering Emma hovering outside her hospital room. Organized chaos reigned as orderlies along with Dr. Javadi wrestled Tim onto a gurney. The redheaded nurse, her hands encased in blue surgical gloves, handed Liam a plastic bag containing the empty paper cup.
“I didn’t let anyone touch this,” she said with a mournful glance at the prone security guard. “Like you asked.”
He’d seen the nurse and the guard speaking earlier and sensed their relationship was more than casual.
Liam accepted the bag. “The break room is off-limits until further notice. It’ll be taped.”
“I’ll let the staff know.”
Dr. Javadi glanced up. “He should be all right. He’s got a strong pulse and his airway is clear. Judging by the symptoms, I’m guessing he ingested an overdose of a prescription sleeping pill. I’ll know more when the tox screens come back.”
Liam had seen more than his fair share of overdoses. He didn’t envy the guard the stomach pumping he was about to receive. “Keep me informed of his condition.”
As the group rushed off, Liam touched Emma’s elbow. “We should have someone check you out too.”