Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) (33 page)

“I’m impressed by your restraint,” T.J. said as Garth joined them. “What about you? Any injuries?”

Garth shook his head. “Just a few cuts and bruises. Very mild compared to some of my previous injuries.”

“What about Hopkins?” I asked them.

Garth and Olivia looked at each other. “He’s been shot twice. Both hit him outside of his vest’s protection zone. The medics are planning to rush him to the hospital, where a helicopter will take him to a trauma hospital in Dallas.”

“What are his chances?” Garth didn’t say anything. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. “So he’s going to die because he was protecting me? He took two bullets that were meant for me?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” T.J. said. “He was doing his job. We all know the risks we face every day. We don’t like them, but it’s unavoidable.”

“This is not making me feel better,” I told him as I watched them load Owen onto a stretcher and wheel him over to an ambulance. “Are you going to give the same speech to Trixie and her mother?”

Chapter 42

The paramedics working on Owen had decided his condition warranted a trip to the trauma hospital as well. It took an hour for T.J. and I to drive there, and by then, both Hopkins and Owen were in surgery. Police officers and FBI agents filled the waiting room and hallway. Mrs. Greene was sitting in a waiting room chair, while Trixie yelled at some poor nurse, trying to get more information about Owen. I went over and sat down next to her mother. “I’m so sorry,” I told her. “Have they told you anything?”

“Not really,” she replied. She looked over at her daughter. “She’s been yelling at everyone that has come out there.”

“She’s worried and scared, like the rest of us.” I put a hand on top of hers. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

“But he was there, trying to protect me. If I hadn’t stuck my nose into his business again, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” she said, patting my hand, “he knew the risks he was taking when he took the job.”

“Yes, but who expects these kinds of things to happen in a small town like Brookdale?”

“It can happen anywhere, ma’am,” an officer next to us said. Small towns, big cities, on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere. If the criminals are desperate enough, they’ll do anything to survive, including killing police officers and federal agents. Even innocent bystanders. To them, it just doesn’t matter.”

Trixie stomped over to us. “Those incompetent idiots don’t know anything. They just keep repeating ‘As soon as I know something, I’ll let you know.’ Why don’t they hire people here who know what they’re doing?”

“I think I’d rather they focus their attention on Owen and Hopkins instead of worrying about updating us,” I replied.

“Of course you do,” Trixie snapped. “What do you care? It’s not your brother lying in there, bleeding to death.”

“Hey now, hold on,” I said, standing up. “I care for him as much as you do.”

“But you’re not his sister, or his mother. You’re just some tagalong who butts into things that don’t concern her.”

I gasped, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. T.J. chose that moment to come over. “I don’t think we should be assigning blame, Trixie. No one could have seen this coming. Owen chose to take the added risk when he gave his vest to Ethan.”

“Don’t come over here spouting the usual baloney you officers always say in situations like this. I don’t want to hear it.” The officer who had spoke to us a couple of minutes ago got an angry look on his face, and walked away.

“What do you want to hear then?” he replied. “That the next time he finds himself in a similar situation, no one will shoot at him? You know I can’t tell you that, Trixie.”

“Don’t tell me anything at all, Deputy Roosevelt.”

“That’s enough, young lady!” Mrs. Greene said. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t blame everyone for what has happened. Your brother is a strong man. He’s going to pull through this, he’ll go back to his job, and the two of us will go back to quietly worrying about the next time he gets a call.”

Trixie opened her mouth to say something, but her mother gave her a stern look, so Trixie just stomped back to the nurse’s station. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that upset before,” T.J. said.

“I have,” I told him, “and it’s never a pretty sight. It will take her a couple of days to cool off. Any news about Hopkins?”

“Still in surgery. They said he has a collapsed lung and broken ribs. They think one of the bullets nicked a kidney, but they aren’t sure yet. He’s still on the table.”

“How did you find all that out? Trixie’s been harassing the nurses since she got here, and they won’t tell her anything.”

“It’s the badge, babe,” he smiled. “Chicks dig the badge.”

“As long as they keep their hands off your badge, that’s fine.”

“I love it when you get jealous,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “Has anyone called Jake yet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Garth did.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“I don’t know where my phone is, to be honest.”

He handed me his phone. “I’ll find us something to eat while you do that.”

Jake picked up on the first ring. “What’s Lizzie done now?”

“Kidnapped by two women, tied to a chair, stuck in the middle of a gunfight, broke Edward’s leg, and got Hopkins and Owen shot. Other than that, nothing.”

“Good Lord, woman,” he said. “What is going on over there?”

It took a few minutes to tell him everything that had happened, and he was quiet for a minute when I was done. “How’s Trixie?”

“Climbing the walls,” I said as I looked at her. She was sitting by her mother, holding her hand. “She’s mad because they won’t tell her how Owen’s surgery is going. She’s in full evil woman mode.”

“Where are Garth and Olivia?”

“I haven’t seen them since we left for the hospital.”

“I’ll call him, then I’ll call the airport. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Should you be flying?”

“Try and stop me,” he said and hung up.

The hours seemed to drag on. It was another three hours before we heard anything, and it was about Hopkins. His lung had been reinflated, the damage to his kidney repaired, and he was in recovery. He was listed in critical, but stable, condition. His fellow agents were going to take turns sitting in his room.

An hour later, another surgeon came into the waiting room. “The Greene family?” he asked as he looked around the room. Trixie stood up while Mrs. Greene remained seated, a firm hold on her daughter’s hand. We all gathered together to hear what he had to say. “I’m Dr. Franklin. Sheriff Greene is out of surgery. The bullet hit him dead center of his chest, and he lost a lot of blood. It was a through and through, and a vertebrae was nicked by the bullet as it exited his body. That, plus hitting the ground hard, has left him with some serious spinal damage.”

“Are you saying he’s paralyzed?” Trixie said.

“It’s a possibility,” the surgeon replied. “There’s a tremendous amount of swelling right now. He’s in critical condition right now. The next twelve to twenty-four hours are going to very important.”

“Can we see him?” Mrs. Greene asked.

“In a little while,” he said. “He’s going to be moved to ICU in a little while, and then you can see him.”

“Thank you, Dr. Franklin,” Trixie said.

“You’re welcome. Why don’t some of you go home, get some sleep? He’s going to be asleep for a while. He’ll need your help in the days and weeks to come. You need to take care of yourselves in order to be there for him.”

He left, and we all stood there for a few minutes, not saying anything. Finally, I knelt next to Mrs. Greene. “Why don’t you let me take you home?” I said, placing my hand on top of her left one. “I’m sure Trixie isn’t going to go anywhere until she can see her brother, and like the doctor said, Owen is going to need us all later.”

“She’s right, Mother,” Trixie said. “Go home.”

“Not until I can see Owen,” she said firmly.

T.J. went over and spoke to one of the nurses for a minute. She made a call, and then nodded at T.J., who walked back to us. “I would be honored to escort you to Owen’s room, ma’am,” he said, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. She linked her arm through his, and they led the way to the recovery room.

Trixie and I stood outside while T.J. took Mrs. Greene inside. There were tubes everywhere, a heart monitor beeped to his right, and the ventilator made that air sucking sound. I always thought a person’s lungs were going to be ripped from their chest whenever I heard that noise.

A nurse came in, and handed Mrs. Greene a latex glove. “I thought you might want to hold his hand for a minute. You’ll need this; we want to make sure he doesn’t pick up any outside infections.”

“I understand. Thank you,” she said, putting the glove on. Stepping closer, she gently touched his hand. I saw her lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I assumed she was saying a prayer for him. She squeezed his hand before coming back to the hallway. “He’s in God’s hands now,” she said, removing the glove. “I just have to have faith that he’s going to be just fine.”

We went back to the waiting room, and found Jeff, one of Owen’s deputies, sitting in one of the chairs. He stood up as we came into the room. “How is he?”

“Out of surgery,” T.J. told him. “Now, we just wait.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Would you escort his mother home? She needs to get some sleep.”

“Of course,” Jeff replied. “I brought my personal car, which is much more comfortable than one of those patrol cars. I’ll bring her back when she’s ready.”

Mrs. Greene gave Trixie a hug before turning to me. “Don’t listen to what she says,” she whispered in my ear as she pulled me close. “She just needs to vent her anger. It’s not personal.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Over the next few hours, we took turns pacing the floor and napping in the chairs. Around 4 a.m., I suddenly smelled French fries. “I thought you guys might be hungry,” Jake said. He was carrying two bags of fast food.

“Good to see you,” T.J. said as he took one of the bags from him.

“Are you just saying that because I brought food?” Jake laughed.

“Maybe.”

Jake handed me the other bag and went over to Trixie. “How are you holding up?” he said, sitting down next to her.

“I’m okay,” she replied. “I’ve certainly had better days.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Critical,” I said, taking a burger and fries out of the bag. “All we can do is wait.”

“Hopkins?”

“The same, although not as bad as Owen.”

“What about Edward?”

“Well, the last I heard, he was screaming bloody murder about the lousy conditions at the Brookdale Hospital. Apparently, he doesn’t like being handcuffed to a bed,” T.J. said.

“Then he sure as heck isn’t going to like a prison cell,” Jake replied.

“Definitely not,” T.J. agreed.

“How long have you all been sitting here?” Jake said.

“Hours,” I said.

Jake stood up. “Come on, Trix. Let’s go for a walk.”

She shook her head. “I can’t leave.”

“We’re not leaving the hospital; we’re just going to get away from this room for a little while. Lizzie and T.J. will stay right here, and if anything happens, they’ll call us. Right?” he said, looking at us.

I nodded. “Of course.”

Trixie hesitated, but Jake pulled her to her feet. “Come on. I’ve been sitting on a plane for hours. I need to stretch my legs. You’ll be doing me a favor by keeping me company.”

“You are so full of it,” she laughed as they walked away.

“Well, at least he got to her laugh,” I said. “That’s an improvement.”

“She’s not going to stay mad at you forever,” T.J. said. “You know she’s not mad at you; she’s just upset about the situation.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Roosevelt,” the nurse said. “Sheriff Greene is awake, and asking for you. Could you come with me, please?”

We followed her down the hall. They had moved him to a private room, and he was still hooked up to most of the machines. “Can he breathe okay without the ventilator?” I asked the nurse.

Oh yes,” the nurse replied. “He wanted to know how things turned out. When I couldn’t answer his question, he asked for you.”

“You’re not supposed to be worrying about anything but getting better,” T.J. told him. Owen glared at him.

“Can you tell him what happened without getting him too excited?” the nurse asked.

“I can do that,” he assured her.

She looked at Owen. “You just lay there and listen to what they say,” she said. “You’ve got five minutes.”

We told him about the three arrests, how Ethan had been taken away to another safe house, and that Jake was back. “Anyone else hurt?” he said.

“No,” I told him. I knew it was wrong to lie to him about Hopkins, but right now, he didn’t need to know. “Owen, I…I am so sorry about this. It’s all my fault.” He shook his head. “Yes, it is. If I had just left this whole thing to you and T.J., things would have ended much differently.”

“You don’t know that,” he replied. “Not your fault.”

“Tell Trixie that,” I replied.

“I will.”

“Your mother was here,” T.J. said. “She saw you shortly after your surgery. Dr. Franklin told her to go home and get some rest. Jeff will bring her back in the morning.”

“Good. Take care of her while I’m in here.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” I said.

He smiled and closed his eyes. The heart monitor started to beep faster, and then there was one solid beep. Suddenly, the nurse and a doctor rushed in, and we were shoved into the hallway. Trixie and Jake came running toward us. “What the hell happened?” she said, grabbing my arm.

“I…he…I don’t know.”

“Code blue, ICU, Code blue,” came blaring out from a speaker overhead. More nurses came running, pushing a cart between them.