Chapter Eighteen
Taylor peeked around the doorframe again, hoping to catch Caroline’s eye. Mitch was lying on the floor, blood seeping from a wound at his temple, but Caroline had Rosalind’s full attention.
By way of Ros’s gun pointed at her head.
If Caroline had seen Taylor, she didn’t let on. “Shooting me isn’t going to make this go away,” Caroline said. “Your illegal adoption ring is done. If you cooperate and put down that gun, I can get you a deal with the prosecutor.”
Ros chuckled. “Do you really think I’m dumb enough to believe that? You’re not a cop, so what are you? FBI?”
“Not anymore,” Caroline said. “But I’m still going to kick your ass.”
Matt sidled up next to Taylor. She put a finger to her lips and signaled him that Ros had a gun. He nodded and they listened, Taylor once more just barely peeking an eye around the edge of the frame.
Rosalind laughed and sat on the edge of a swanky desk with several folders and her cell phone on it. “Is that so? Looks to me like you’re about to end up one more missing person for that stupid bitch, Sinclair, to try to find.”
Stupid bitch?Seriously?Taylor clamped her jaw and felt Matt’s hand on her shoulder, a subtle way of keeping her from taking the woman’s head off.
Except, Taylor knew there was no way this would end well. Ros was going to kill Caroline. Might have killed Mitch already.
They couldn’t wait for Grey or the others. They had to stop this woman.Now.
Without taking her eyes or her gun off Caroline, Ros called over her shoulder. “Dwayne? What’s going on out there?”
Shrugging off Matt’s hand, Taylor swung around the doorframe, gun aimed at Ros. “He’s a little tied up right now, thanks to this stupid bitch and her partner.”
As expected, Ros jumped up, swinging her gun in Taylor’s direction. Caroline, no stranger to hostage situations, took the opening to drop to the floor and sweep Ros’s feet out from under her.
Ros’s gun went off as she fell, and Taylor suddenly found herself shoved against the opposite side of the frame by two very strong hands.
Mad Dog. The bullet smacked into the wood where her head had been, and Matt rushed past her, yelling at Ros to drop her weapon.
The woman obviously had problems following orders because she scrambled to her feet, waving the gun in the air. God help them if that thing went off again. Matt chased after her, but she leaped behind the desk. Another shot rang out and Matt ducked as Caroline dove on top of Mitch, covering him with her body.
Take her down.
Taylor launched herself across the space. The tackle was clean and she took the woman to the floor behind her desk, knocking the gun from her hand at the same time.
Ros came up swinging, trying to buck Taylor off and Taylor decided she’d had enough of playing nice. Time to go Mad Dog style. She cocked her arm back and—pow—punched Ros in the jaw.
The woman’s eyes widened, the shock settling in, just before they rolled back in her head. Beneath Taylor, Ros went limp, but she stayed put, waiting to see if the witch might be playing her.
“Nice work,” a male voice said above her.
She looked up to see three men staring down at her. Matt, Gerard, and a guy she assumed was Grey’s man, Brice Brennan.
Grey rushed in on their heels. “Anyone hurt?”
“Mitch,” Caroline said from the other side of the room, her voice carrying a tight anguish Taylor didn’t like. All the men’s faces disappeared.
As Grey and the others administered to Mitch, Matt handed Taylor a set of zip ties and helped her sit Rosalind up. The woman blinked her eyes open and grimaced. “You broke my jaw.”
“Shit happens,” Taylor replied with a shrug. “And if it was broken, you wouldn’t be able to talk. But you can, so you’re going to tell me about your fake birth certificates and where the Jarvis baby is.”
Ros sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? You’re going to play dumb now? I should pop you again because you’re being a jerk. You know, that gal over there may not be FBI anymore, but I am, and I’m going to send you to prison for the rest of your life unless you start talking.”
“I know who you are,” Ros said, staring at her desk and the folder lying there. “You’re on suspension, Agent Sinclair, so save the threats. I’m friends with plenty of powerful people who can turn your suspension into a permanent firing.”
