Free Roan by Jennifer Blake Page B

doors leading to the Emergency Room. It lay scattered across the polished floor inside, glittering in the sterile brightness of the lights. Two EMTs dressed for ambulance duty stood talking in hushed voices. They looked up and nodded a greeting as he approached, their expressions showing plainly that they’d like his take on the situation. He only lifted a hand, however, as he crunched glass under his boots on his way toward the main hospital wing.
    Cal met him at the nurse’s station for Donna’s room. A young nurse garbed in lime green and rose, with a Walkman on her hip and black earphones nearly hidden by her dark, curly hair, stood flipping through a chart. After a quick look at Roan’s face, she grabbed a cart and pushed it out the door, muttering about making rounds. Roan let her go. When she had vanished into a patient’s room, he summoned Allen from his position outside Donna’s door. Positioning himself so he could watch the corridor around the suspect’s room, he heard the reports of both Cal and Allen.
    When they’d finished, he asked, “What do you see as the motive?”
    â€œWho knows?” Cal answered with a shrug. “All the suspect would tell me was that it was too dark to see her attacker.”
    Allen put his hands on his wide hips. “You want my opinion, her pals were trying to spring her.”
    â€œThen why the gag?”
    â€œFor show. To make it look like a kidnapping in case they were stopped. Wouldn’t surprise me to hear it was her idea.”
    â€œYou said her IV shunt was jerked out in an apparent struggle. I suppose she did that for the same reason?” Roan heard the hard anger in his voice with some surprise, but didn’t bother to downplay it.
    â€œAn accident, maybe, because they were in a hurry or else didn’t know how to remove the damn thing. I expect she fell because she passed out from the sight of blood.”
    Roan had seen no susceptibility of that kind on the night Donna was shot. Besides, women weren’t as squeamish as men about that kind of thing in his experience. “So why hit the call button? Another accident?”
    â€œCould be.” The words were defensive. “We’re dealing with amateurs here, seems to me, or they’d have made a better job of it.”
    â€œThey almost pulled it off anyway, and might have if the duty nurse hadn’t heard the scuffle over the intercom. Speaking of which…”
    Allen didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “I swear I just walked off for a second. I needed a shot of coffee to stay awake.”
    â€œIn other words, you didn’t think there was any danger.” Allen liked to talk, Roan knew; he’d probably leaned on the station door here, shooting the bull with the night nurses, since it was a habit during normal rounds. It wasn’t surprising. The jail inmates sick enough to rate a hospital stay seldom required much watching.
    â€œWho’d ever guess the two bad guys would come back, anyway,” the deputy said, rubbing a hand over his face in tired bafflement. “Or that they’d be smart enough to hang around the side entrance until some visitor opened the door for them.”
    Allen was a good cop, Roan knew. He said in grim warning, “You will. Next time.”
    â€œRight.”
    Roan was satisfied. It was time to move on to other things. “So is the prisoner asleep?”
    It was Cal who answered. “She wasn’t last time I looked, but I could check if you want to know for sure.”
    â€œNever mind. I’ll see for myself. Meantime, do you have somebody to take over for Allen?”
    â€œNo, sir. Allen’s fine, ready to finish his shift.” He glanced at the other deputy, who nodded dutifully.
    Roan sighed. “You know how I feel about this, Cal, and you know the rule—any officer who has been fired upon is to stand down. You’re the duty officer. It’s your