The Rookie Club: Dead Center Part 20

He pulled away.

"You can't do it anymore," she told him. "Trust me. It'll get easier."

"You're as self-righteous as the rest of them."

She frowned. "d.a.m.n it, Tony. I want to help, but you can't drink here. I can't do it-I'm not strong enough to hold us both up."

Tony pushed himself to his knees, stood unevenly. "Who asked you for help?"

Jamie didn't move, felt the anger burn her skin. "Isn't that why you're here? Because if you're not here for help, what do you want, Tony?"

"Nothing," he snapped then staggered several feet. "s.h.i.t, I don't want anything. G.o.d forbid I ask you for anything."

Jamie stood and moved around the table until she was standing inches from Tony's chest. "I'm trying." She shoved him back down.

He stumbled but didn't fall.

"It's not my fault things ended up the way they did," she shouted. "Mick's not my fault-your dad, our mothers, the past-none of it. I'm sorry life's been so f.u.c.king hard on you, Tony.

"It's been pretty s.h.i.tty here, too," she went on, ignoring the way her voice cracked. "I'm sorry you lost your job, but did you ever stop to think that losing your job saved your d.a.m.n life? You'd be dead now if you hadn't gotten drunk and kicked out of the department."

Tony turned from her. "Maybe I want to be dead."

"Fine," she roared, striking her finger out at him like a sword. "Then go kill yourself, but don't come to my house to do it. Don't go asking for my help. You want to do that, then you do it somewhere f.u.c.king else." Her throat went hoa.r.s.e. She coughed.

"Jesus, you're a hard b.i.t.c.h."

"Yeah, well, life's made me hard."

He turned then, marched for the front door. He hadn't quite reached it when the doorbell rang.

As Tony pulled the door open, Jamie wondered what neighbors they'd awakened. Why wouldn't everyone just leave her the h.e.l.l alone?

She turned for the stairs when Tony's voice stopped her.

"Oh, Christ," he cried. "Jamie, quick!"

Jamie came around the corner as Tony stood up and turned back to her. He stared at his hands. They were streaked in red-blood.

Jamie ran. He'd cut himself, but she couldn't see how. "What the h.e.l.l happened?"

"He's hurt."

"Who?"

She pa.s.sed Tony. Barney lay on his side on the doormat. She lifted his paw and saw his heaving chest. Blood caked one ear.

"Barney!" Jamie touched his matted coat, the blood dark against his brown fur. "Oh, my G.o.d. He's been cut. He's bleeding."

"He must've cut himself on the gla.s.s," Tony said.

Jamie shook her head, heart pounding. "Then who the h.e.l.l rang the doorbell?"

Chapter 23.

Jamie woke up to a phone ringing. She bolted upright. Tony. No, Tony was here. "h.e.l.lo," she gasped.

The voice was breathless on the other end. "Wallace has been attacked."

"Wha-who?" She blinked, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Who the h.e.l.l was Wallace?

"It's me, Hailey. Mackenzie Wallace-the rookie cop who found Devlin-she was attacked. I just found out from Linda James."

"Attacked. When?"

"Around eight last night. Near Irving and 10th." There was a pause and Jamie felt her pulse still. "He was brutal," Hailey added. Jamie pressed her fist to the hollow pit in her gut. "No one's gotten her report on it. She was unconscious when she came in. She only woke up about an hour ago."

This was her fault. Jesus Christ. First her dog then a rookie cop. She glanced at the bedside clock. Eight a.m. Sunday morning. She'd gotten to bed sometime after three. Barney was still at the vet hospital. Twenty-eight st.i.tches as a result of a knife wound. Not a piece of broken gla.s.s on the porch. Someone had knifed her dog at her house. Already there had been another attack.

She threw the covers back, stood. "Where is she now?"

"She's at General. I'm going there. But, Jamie, I have to tell you something."

"What?"

Hailey didn't speak.

Jamie heard a door close with a click. "h.e.l.lo."

"I'm here. I had to go into another room." Her voice was a whisper.

"What happened?"

"I was attacked."

Dread splashed hot in her gut. "What? When?"

"On Friday night," she whispered.

"Where? At home?"

Silence.

Jamie frowned. "Hailey, what the h.e.l.l happened?"

Hailey sighed. "After we left the station, I was headed home. But I got a call."

"From-"

"A friend. He invited me over." She hesitated. "I went to his apartment."

Jamie nodded, thought about that night. "Daniels." It wasn't a question.

Hailey didn't respond.

Jamie knew she was right. "What time did you get there?"

"About nine fifteen. Listen, Jamie, this could ruin so much for both of us."

"I don't care about the affair, Hailey."

She heard Hailey's breath release in a long hiss. "I hate that word."

"Call it what you want." Tim. Devlin. Now Hailey. Christ, the world was full of cheaters. She forced it aside. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Hailey told Jamie about the attack. How she'd gotten out of her car, locked her gun in the glove box, put her purse strap across her chest, and walked up to the apartment. She hadn't noticed anyone. The street was quiet. It was always quiet, she said.

Jamie closed her eyes, pressed her fingers to the tiny crater at her temple. Pressed against the soft spot. The purse strap across Hailey's chest was a big mistake. Cops were supposed to know better. Straps, long ponytails, and hoods all made good things for an attacker to grab. Hailey described how he'd had her facedown, how he'd knocked her head into the floor, tightened the strap on her neck. She'd pa.s.sed out once, maybe twice. Then she'd heard a voice above. Someone coming down the stairs. The attacker ran.

"Did you go after him?"

"I was half-conscious."

"Did anyone else go after him?"

"No. He-he was worried about me."

Jamie closed her eyes, searched for another clue. "Did the attacker speak? Say anything?"

"Nothing. I didn't get a look at him, and he didn't say a word. I don't even remember him breathing. I was alone one minute and the next he was there, strangling me."

Her voice caught. "It was clean, Jamie. I didn't get anything."

"Prints? I don't suppose you-"

"I didn't. I let the scene go."

"s.h.i.t."

A moment of silence pa.s.sed before Hailey spoke. "I a.s.sumed it was random, but now, after Mackenzie, I don't think so."

Jamie thought about that night. They'd confronted Scanlan. He could have pulled something like that. But Hailey wasn't really at the forefront of that-Jamie was. Mackenzie had nothing to do with that night. Scanlan would have had no reason to target her. Then there was Marchek. Had she really seen him at Tommy's? Could he have followed Hailey to Daniels' apartment?

Mackenzie was badly beaten. That sounded like Marchek's work. Christ. She ran her hand through her hair. She'd never forgive herself if Mackenzie had been killed.

"I blame myself, Jamie. I should've spoken up."

"Don't."

Hailey stopped.

Jamie shook her head. "I thought I saw Marchek when we were at Tommy's. I'm not sure. It was a flash of something familiar, a sense."

"Oh G.o.d," Hailey uttered.

"I'm to blame as much as you." She paused. "More."

"We could do this all day. It won't help Mackenzie."

Jamie nodded. "Has anyone talked to her about what she saw?"

"Not yet."

Jamie heard someone in the background on Hailey's end.

"I need to go," she said quickly. "But I'm heading to the hospital soon. Will you come?"

"Yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can. It'll probably take me an hour."

"Thanks. And, Jamie, if you could-"

"I won't say a word about it unless my only other choice is to let Marchek go."

"Thank you."

Jamie thought about Mackenzie as she hung up. G.o.dd.a.m.n it. The rookie had to be okay. The fact that Marchek was out there, following them away from the station, was terrifying. It was no longer just a case. Marchek was hunting them. She had to stop him before he killed someone else. Before he killed her. She wondered how close he'd come.

Chapter 24.

Hailey held her breath as she walked through the automatic doors of San Francisco General. The smell of it-ammonia and lemon cleaning fluid and the faint odor of feet almost stopped her. She hated hospitals, would much rather spend time in the morgue. It was this halfway house-not dead but not well-that made her feel like she needed to rush home and shower, put herself on antibiotics. At least she didn't worry what she would catch from the dead. Today, the hospital felt worse even than usually. The guilt that ate at her from the inside out wasn't helping. There was no way to avoid the fact that she was partially to blame for Mackenzie's attack.

She thought again of the rookie, of the stressed phone call she'd gotten from Mackenzie's captain, Linda James. Hailey had a duty to let someone know about her attack. She and Buck had even discussed the possibility that the attack was part of a series of events. The other officers-Shawna Delman and another Hailey hadn't met. Then Emily Osbourne. And Natasha Devlin? Was she related to this, too? She and Buck discussed the possibility and dismissed it. Not because she didn't think it was a real possibility. She knew in her gut that it was. They hadn't taken the threat seriously enough. They had chosen to protect their own hides instead.

Now Mackenzie was in the hospital. Hailey turned her gaze to the ceiling and swore to G.o.d that she'd never see Buck again if the rookie came out okay. That night, after the attack, she'd considered the symbolism of it. She'd been attacked on the way into her lover's home. What sign could be clearer?

Jolted from her reverie, Hailey saw she'd stopped in the middle of the hallway. In the lobby, people milled around her-nurses and doctors with cups of coffee, patients in wheelchairs with oxygen or IV's hanging. Pregnant women walked in slow circles to induce labor, nervous husbands beside them.