Race Against Time. Sharon Sala

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СКАЧАТЬ one else was mentioned to me when they called this in,” Baldwin said.

      “Where is the baby now?” Agent Gleason asked.

      “I have no idea, but why all the secrecy?”

      “The kid is Anton Baba’s,” Gleason said. “The rest is on a need-to-know basis.”

      Baldwin frowned.

      “This is my county, and I need to know why someone shot at a woman and a baby as they were leaving this wreck, understand?”

      Gleason thought about it a moment and then decided he could let Baldwin in on this...to a degree.

      “My agents had taken the woman and her baby into protective custody and were on their way to a pickup site. When they didn’t arrive as scheduled, we started looking for them and found this. We assumed Baba took them back, but if you’ve got a witness on the scene who has the baby, then maybe there’s still a chance to save him. We have to get to the kid before Baba does or he’ll take that woman out for sure. For all we know, she may already be dead.”

      “Bad deal all around,” Baldwin said. “You need to call the Homicide Division at the Vegas police department. They’ll be able to fill you in with the details on the witness.”

      Gleason was already on the phone to the Las Vegas police as the sheriff and his deputies drove away, but Baldwin wasn’t upset about losing this one to the Feds. He and his men had dodged a bullet by not being in charge of that crime scene. The last thing he wanted to do was start digging into the business dealings of Anton Baba.

      * * *

      Detective Saldano was in the hospital lobby getting an update from Summers.

      “We’ve been contacted by the FBI regarding the woman and kid. This whole incident has taken on a darker, more dangerous aspect.”

      “How so?” Nick asked.

      “Anton Baba is the father of the baby. They don’t know where the mother is for sure, but they assume she’s back in Baba’s possession. The two victims in the car fire were Feds, and the FBI has taken over the crime scene and the case.”

      “Holy shit,” Nick muttered.

      “Exactly. The Feds already took possession of the child from Social Services and are actively looking for the mother.”

      “What about the biker who found the kid? The one who was shot?” Nick asked. “Are they going to protect her, too?”

      “They say they will interview her when she is able to be interviewed. If she has nothing new to add to their case, they’re cutting her loose.”

      Nick frowned.

      “Baba won’t be that generous,” Nick said. “Her life is in danger, sir.”

      Summers sighed.

      “You’re probably right.”

      “Are we going to put a guard on her? If they want her dead, they’ll come to the hospital and try and finish the job,” Nick said.

      “I don’t have the manpower to put round-the-clock guards on her.”

      Nick’s frown deepened.

      “Sir, if the man who shot her comes to finish the job, maybe we could link him to Baba and take him out of circulation that way.”

      “The criminal justice system has been trying to find a way to connect to that man and his crimes for years and hasn’t done it yet,” Summers said.

      “There’s always a first time,” Nick said.

      When his boss didn’t answer, he feared the PD was going to leave Quinn hanging, too, and then Summers spoke.

      “I’ll get the guards set up. But once she leaves the hospital, she’s on her own. We do not have the budget to put someone in a safe house who has no real bearing on a homicide case that we’re not even working.”

      “Thanks,” Nick said. “If it’s okay, I’ll stay here for the rest of the night. She went through a lot to get that little kid safe. I think we owe her, sir.”

      “Agreed. And there will be an officer there to replace you by eight tomorrow morning.”

      “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Nick said and disconnected.

      His stride was long and hurried as he moved through the hospital lobby. By the time he got to the surgery wing, more than an hour had passed since he’d last seen the injured woman. He notified the nurses at the surgery desk that he was there on behalf of Quinn O’Meara and headed for the waiting room.

      There was only one other person there when he walked in, a thirtysomething guy with curly black hair hanging well below his shoulders. He obviously spent more time in the gym than in the barbershop. The man looked up at Nick as he walked in, nodded and then looked back down at his phone.

      Nick got a coffee from the coffee machine, a honey bun from the food dispenser, and sat back down to wait. He sent a text to his lieutenant to let him know he was on site and then opened the honey bun and took a bite.

      The sugar was a much-needed jolt, as was the caffeine in the coffee. A quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall was a reminder that he’d been up for eighteen hours. It was a good thing tomorrow was his day off. He finished off the food, drained his coffee and went to the bathroom. When he came out, the dark-haired man was still there, still texting.

      Nick sat, leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking again of the redhead. There was something about her that niggled at his memory. He couldn’t imagine forgetting someone who looked like that. Bloody as hell, her beauty had still been obvious—and all that red hair. Maybe she just reminded him of someone else.

      * * *

      Dev Bosky knew the other man in the waiting room was a cop. His gut knotted when he saw him walk in, and the urge to leave was huge. But sitting in a room with a cop was still safer than going back to Anton Baba without his son. He’d already learned the kid was no longer in the hospital but didn’t know where he’d been taken. He had contacts who could track the location of the kid later. First thing he had to do was get rid of his witness.

      He’d been texting Ian for over an hour and still hadn’t heard back. That alone was worrisome. It occurred to him that Ian’s decision to go back without the kid might have been a deadly one. That fear alone was enough to keep him on task.

       Three

      Nick glanced at his watch. The woman had been in surgery a little over three hours, and he was beginning to worry when a doctor in green scrubs entered the waiting room.

      “Who’s here for Quinn O’Meara?”

      Nick stood and flashed his badge.

      “I am. Detective Nick Saldano, Las Vegas Homicide.”

      The СКАЧАТЬ