Sleeping Beauty Suspect. Dani Sinclair

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      “Broken ankle, cuts and bruises, though not as spectacular as yours are going to be and he has a couple of minor burns. He’ll be fine. They’re sending him home as soon as his wife gets here.”

      “What about the victim?”

      “Sleeping Beauty? Word is she’s still unconscious, and they don’t know why. They’re running blood serums to check for drugs.”

      Flynn made a face. And hadn’t he known that name was going to stick? Someone must have overheard Arlene. The crew loved monikers. Poor red-haired Frenchy had never had a chance with a name like Abel French. Flynn just hoped the press hadn’t picked up the Sleeping Beauty reference. He didn’t fancy being dubbed Prince Charming. The teams could be pretty merciless.

      “Arlene said she was wearing an expensive evening gown.”

      Sally nodded. “That’s what they tell me. A designer original.”

      “Think you can get me in to see her?”

      Her eyebrows rose. “Why?”

      Flynn shrugged. “It just seems like something I should do.”

      A knowing expression crossed her face. “I hear she’s a looker.”

      “Do not start,” he ordered. Sally gave him a mischievous smile.

      “You should know your picture’s all over the news. It’s a great shot. You’re all soot-stained and battered, being held up while you stare down at her. It’s a compelling expression, Flynn. Great framing. He even got the house fire blazing in the background.”

      Flynn groaned. “Scellioli.”

      Sally’s smile widened. “There’s even video footage of you passing her out the window and going through the roof. Your mother is concerned.”

      “Thanks a lot.”

      “Hey, I didn’t take the pictures. I just caught them on the monitor as I was heading down here to see you. You need a ride home?”

      “Arlene and Murray said they’d swing by if they were free.”

      “Okay, but if not let me know. I can call your brother Neil if he isn’t in court today. Or your mom will come pick you up.”

      “No!” She’d fuss, as Sally well knew.

      “Well, my hubby flew a red-eye out to L.A. last night and Ronan won’t fly back to D.C. until tomorrow. But I imagine Lucan will probably show up sooner or later.”

      Given that his brother Lucan was a police detective, Flynn had little doubt of that. He shook his head and wished he hadn’t. His neck and shoulder were stiffening up. The last thing he wanted right now was one of his brothers giving him a hard time.

      “I’m injured, Sally. Give me a break.”

      She chuckled. “Fine. I’ve got to get back to work anyhow.”

      “Okay to go see Carey?”

      “Don’t see why not. Just follow the swearing. They were casting his ankle a few minutes ago.”

      “Where’d they take the victim?”

      “Sleeping Beauty’s been admitted on four. Room 410.”

      Flynn nodded. He finished collecting his things and followed her down the hall to the room where Carey was giving an attractive young nurse a hard time. Carey’s wife arrived a few minutes later to calm things down, so Flynn gave her a wink of sympathy and headed for the elevator. He’d check on their victim, then give Murray a call.

      The fourth floor bustled with activity. He found the victim in a four-bed ward without bothering anyone. Three of the four beds were filled, but none of the occupants were awake. Beauty was in the last bed, near the window.

      She looked more like a porcelain doll than a princess now as she lay against the white hospital sheets. She was so still he would have thought her dead if not for the steady rasp of oxygen and the hum of all the monitors surrounding her.

      Her features were as delicate and lovely as he’d remembered. Someone had wiped most of the soot from her face, but it still darkened her hair and clung to the hairline. The hair would be a light golden brown, he judged, but he wondered what color her eyes would be. They were closed, with thick, dark lashes lying against her pale skin. She could be anywhere from sixteen to her late twenties.

      The steady pulse of the machines was almost soothing, but he could do without the antiseptic smell that always permeated hospital rooms.

      Flynn sank down in the chair at the foot of the bed with a grateful sigh. “Well, we made it, Beauty. I wasn’t so sure for a while there.”

      Her eyes moved behind closed lids. For a minute he thought she would open those eyes and look up at him, but she didn’t.

      “I’m Flynn O’Shay, by the way. The guy who rescued you. I don’t suppose you want to wake up and tell me who you are?”

      Other than more movement behind her eyes, nothing happened.

      “Sorry about almost dropping you. Things got a little hairy in there. What were you doing in that empty house, anyhow?”

      “Has she regained consciousness, then?”

      Flynn looked up to see a hefty older nurse watching him from the edge of the curtain that separated Beauty’s bed from the one with the elderly woman next to it.

      “Sorry. No. I thought maybe she’d wake if I talked to her. Her eyes keep flickering, but she hasn’t opened them. I’m Flynn O’Shay.”

      “I know. We saw you on the afternoon news telecast. That was quite a fall you took. Glad to see you’re okay. Your sister-in-law said you’d be coming up to check on her. Talking to her is good.”

      She checked the monitors and the patient, frowning as she looked down on the bed.

      “We’re really anxious for her to wake up and answer a few questions,” she continued.

      “Is she in a coma?”

      The nurse hesitated, regarding him. “More like a drugged sleep. She should be coming out of it soon. You’ll have to talk to the doctor if you want more information.”

      Out in the corridor a code blue was called. The nurse excused herself and hurried for the door. Flynn knew that call meant a life-or-death emergency. Time for him to head home. There was nothing more he could do here and no reason, really, for him to be here at all. He’d just wanted another glimpse of her.

      There was something about her that drew him to her side. He found himself brushing back a strand of smoke-coated hair and discovered pierced ears, devoid of ornamentation. No ring and no indentation to show she wore one on a regular basis. That begged the question. Was she married or had they taken off her jewelry downstairs? Possibly she’d been attacked and robbed for it, or someone had wanted to make it harder for her to be identified. Sally and Arlene had both agreed she’d worn an expensive dress. The total СКАЧАТЬ