Walker ran a hand through his hair. “It looks like she was trying to get him to confess to setting Anna up when they were teenagers. There was a small digital recorder in his possession with the conversation on tape. Once we had that, he told us everything.”
“But why come for Anna? He’d gotten away with it.”
“At first, he just wanted to see if she knew what her sister was doing. Then I think it burned that she was happy. Without him. The only thing I’m sure about is that Derek Raymond is a sick man.”
“Tell me he’s going away for this.” There had to be justice. I had to be able to give that to Anna as soon as I saw her.
“For a long, long time. And he gave us the Foleys.”
“Bribery?”
“Yup. I’ve got Portland PD picking up Jeff now because he took a bribe, too. Then, they’ll get the Foleys. They’re going down, Mase. It might not be for as long as they deserve, but I’m going to do everything I can to make sure they see the inside of a jail cell.”
They deserved more. To feel each blow they’d leveled on their children. To never breathe free air again. But this would have to be enough. “Thank you, Walker.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
I knew that. But the help we really needed wasn’t something he could give. Only the doctors or a miracle could.
Heels sounded on the linoleum floor. “Mase!”
I looked up at the sound of Juliette’s voice. She hurried down the hall, concern marring her features. “What happened? Walker wouldn’t tell me—”
Walker winced. “Sorry, man, she came by your place as we were working the scene.”
“Jules, I can’t do this right now.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Anna’s ex-boyfriend tried to kill her!” I barked. “The same ex-boyfriend those parents you tried to help brought into town. I have no idea if she’ll make it, but I know you don’t give a damn. So, please, just leave me the hell alone.”
Juliette blanched. “Mase…”
“Juliette, why don’t you go wait in the waiting room with everyone else?” Walker suggested. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“But Mason—”
“Later,” Walker instructed, almost pushing her towards the waiting room.
She looked over her shoulder as she went, pain lacing her features, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
A Hispanic man in scrubs strode down the hallway towards us. My body locked as I tracked his movements. He nodded at Walker. “Are you Ms. Foley’s family?”
“Yes.” My voice broke as I said it, and I cleared my throat. “I’m her husband.”
It was the first time I’d claimed the title. And right now, it felt as if I had no right to it.
The man nodded. “I’m Dr. Martín. I’ve been taking care of Ms. Foley. She’s in serious but stable condition in our ICU.”
“What does that mean?” The wordsseriousandstablewere polar opposites in my mind.
“It was touch and go. Her heart was stopped for some time, but we got it beating again. After some tests, it’s evident she has hypoxia. Oxygen deficiency in the brain.”
“But she’s going to be okay.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.
“The next day or two will tell us more. Right now, she’s in a coma. She has a ventilator breathing for her, and we’re tracking her stats carefully. But I can take you to see her if you’d like.”
“Yes.” The word came out as a whisper.
