“Now, ma’am, calm down.”
“Ma’am?” Her voice came out high and incredulous. Ladybug whined and Mia adjusted her hold, desperate not to cause the poor dog more pain. Her bag strap slid down her arm and she hoisted it back up, frustrated. “Did you just ma’am me?”
He had the good sense to step back. “The FBI has been alerted, and we’re doing everything we can to find the abductors.”
She shoved past him and marched toward Malachi. She didn’t have a car, the limo was being towed, and she needed a ride. First to get Ladybug checked out at the closest vet, and then to find Amber.
“Wait, you can’t—”
When the cop reached for her arm, she wheeled around and raised a fist. “Don’t even think about touching me. I’m done answering questions.”
The gum smacking ceased and he cocked a brow at her. He started to say something, apologize maybe, but she pivoted and started walking again.
Her ribcage actually loosened a notch when she saw Malachi’s broad shoulders and firm stance. He’d saved her and her dog. She sucked in the cool night air. “Hang in there, Ladybug,” she murmured, transferring the strap so it crossed her body. “We’re going to get you looked at in a minute.”
Malachi turned, as if sensing her approach, his face thunderous. “Are you all right?”
No, she wasn’t. “We need to go. Now.”
Detective Eastman studied her, brown furry brows drawing tighter than they’d been with Malachi. “You’ve been through a traumatic event,” he stated with hollow sounding empathy. “I understand you’re upset, but I need to be sure we have your statements thoroughly documented. Even the smallest detail may help us find your sister, Ms. Livingston.”
“My dog is injured.” She grabbed Malachi’s hand and tugged him away. “I’m taking her to the all-night emergency care veterinarian. If you have follow-up questions, you have my number.”
Malachi didn’t resist and neither of them responded when the detective tried to verbally exert his right as a cop to stop them. “Cahill, we need to talk,” he insisted.
“Tomorrow,” Malachi replied over his shoulder. “Go find the mayor.”
The detective jogged to catch up as they passed by the officer who’d been interviewing her. Wiser than his superior, he simply stepped out of the way.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” Eastman said to Mia.
She kept going.
“Hold on. This is a serious matter.” He stepped in front of her.
Tendrils of surrender wound around her ribcage. Up until her ordeal, she’d usually had no issues deferring to those in authority. Now? She gritted her teeth and battled those tendrils, facing the detective with absolute wrath. “You don’t think I know that? I was taken by that gang seventeen months ago. Do you know what they did to me? Of course, you do. Everyone in the country knows, because it was national news. I almost died because of them, and now they’ve taken her.My sister. They didn’t have mercy for me, and they won’t have any for her, so get the hell out of my way, and don’t ever think you can school me about the seriousness of this situation.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She started marching again, doing her best to control her breathing. It was like dragon fire and her vision blurred with anger.
When Eastman shouted, “You don’t know it’s the same gang,” she flipped him the bird over her shoulder.
Malachi fell into step beside her. “My car is in the parking garage. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at the kindness. No questions asked, no harping over her well-being or state of mind. Focused on the next step, the anger channeled into a more productive energy. They were moving, doing something. “I like a man of action.”
He chuckled without a trace of humor. “I hate sitting on my hands.”
The street was nearly deserted, the damaged cars gone. Rusty, the limo driver, was at the hospital. The EMT had assured her he would be okay, but would need to undergo a seven day concussion protocol. “I can’t believe the police resisted getting on their trail immediately.”
His long legs had no trouble keeping up with her pace, although she was practically jogging. “Even if you and I had lit out right behind them, it’s doubtfulwecould have tracked them. Those guys are professionals. You’re sure it’s the Quattro Gang?”
Her throat went tight, like she’d swallowed a pill and it was stuck in her larynx. She hugged Ladybug and swallowed past it. “The man who was going to shoot us? I recognize his voice. He was part of the team that took me that night—when I was kidnapped.”
Malachi’s step slowed. “Leandro Lopez? That wasn’t him.”
“I don’t know his name.” Her stomach was sure, though. Every time she remembered that night, she heard that cold, merciless voice. “I never saw his face, thanks to the hood one of the others rammed over my head, but that accent? Yeah, he was part of the team.”
“Damn it. I should have stopped him,” Malachi said.
