Which still didn’t fit, she thought. Because Tala knew her attacker.

‘I thought you might say that, because whoever fired that bullet didn’t want it found. There were three gunshot wounds, the first two superficial. The one in Mr Cauldwell’s arm was a through and through, the other a shallow wound in his side where it had no danger of hitting anything important. That one had been dug out with a knife. The third bullet was the abdominal wound. There are deep gouges in Mr Cauldwell’s tissue, like his attacker had stabbed at the thing. I’m not sure what happened, but it looked like the shooter tried to dig it out and gave up.’

Scarlett smiled, grimly satisfied. ‘What happened was Phillip Cauldwell had already stabbed the shooter in the arm. He was bleeding and had to run.’

‘Good for Phillip Cauldwell,’ the surgeon said coldly. ‘Hopefully he took the bastard’s arm off.’

Scarlett lifted her brows. ‘You sure you’re not a cop, Doc?’

‘Marine Corps.’

‘Ah. Well thank you,’ she said, sliding the baggie into her pocket. ‘What are his chances, really? Please don’t give me the “twenty-four hours will tell” song.’

‘Before you told me he’d stabbed the guy, I would have said they were fairly lousy. But it looks like he’s a fighter, so better than lousy.’

‘Hey, better-than-lousy ain’t so bad. Thanks for the bullet.’ She gave him a wave and jogged down the hall to where Marcus waited.

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 10.55 P.M.

Marcus was getting impatient, and a little worried. Scarlett had promised she’d only be a few minutes, but it had been much longer than that. He was tempted to go back to the little consultation room and make sure that she and Stone hadn’t taken swings at each other.

Instead he called his brother’s cell. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘Just getting my car. Gayle said that she’s going to keep Jill with her for the night, so I have a temporary reprieve from babysitting. Why? Where are you?’

‘Waiting for Scarlett in the lobby. I didn’t see you go past.’

‘I parked at the ER entrance. Your detective and I didn’t have a knock-down-drag-out if that’s what you’re trying to ask,’ he said mildly. ‘I don’t know where she is.’

The tone of Stone’s voice when he mentioned Scarlett had changed, become . . . maybe not friendly, but not hostile either. Perhaps subdued. ‘Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.’

A little pause. ‘I’m okay. Listen . . .’ He blew out a breath. ‘She’s not Satan, okay?’

The statement caught Marcus by surprise and he choked on a laugh. ‘No, she’s not. Look, I’m not trying to get into your business, but after Phillip, I’d like to know where you are. Just in case whoever is trying to get to me tries to hurt you.’

‘I’m not Phillip,’ Stone said, no longer mild. He’d grown cold and angry again. ‘I can take care of myself every bit as well as you can. I don’t need you to babysit me.’

‘Okay,’ Marcus said cautiously. ‘Can you at least call in every so often so I know you’re okay? You can think about it as babysitting me, if you want to. Please, Stone. I need to know you’re okay.’ I’ve always needed to know you’re okay.

‘All right,’ Stone finally said. ‘I’ll call in.’

Marcus hung up unhappily and began pacing again, watching for Scarlett. He’d held it together for far longer than he normally would, but he was starting to get antsy, needing to get out of this hospital. Combined with his worry over Stone and the rest of his team . . . And his mother. He couldn’t forget about her.

He’d called her before he’d called Stone, to tell her about Phillip so she didn’t hear it on the news. Audrey had answered, her tone flat when she’d said Della had turned in early and couldn’t be disturbed. That usually meant she had taken a sleeping pill, or two or three. Or she’d had a drink or two. Or a whole fifth.

He and his sister had danced around the topic of an intervention, clashing once again when he’d come out and suggested they try to get their mom into rehab. Audrey still hoped she would pull out of it, and Stone wouldn’t even talk about it. God, we’re one fucked-up family. Marcus almost thought twice about bringing Scarlett into the drama, but he needed her too much to be so charitable.

Marcus was seriously considering going to look for her when she walked into the lobby, talking on her cell phone. Relief washed over him and he felt a smile spread over his face. He probably looked goofy and ridiculous, but he didn’t care. She was back and they could finally leave.

She paused mid-step, studying him with concern, but when he smiled, she smiled back. He swore his chest felt lighter, even though his heart had started to pound.

‘I’ll have it to Ballistics in fifteen minutes,’ she said into the phone. ‘I’m leaving now.’ She hung up and slid her phone into her jacket pocket. ‘You ready?’ she asked him.

‘More than ready. I was about to go AWOL, but I knew you’d worry.’

‘I would have,’ she said, then shocked Marcus by taking his arm and tugging him out of the lobby double-time.

‘What’s going to Ballistics?’ he asked as she all but dragged him through the parking lot.

‘A bullet,’ she answered. ‘Surgeon dug it out of Phillip.’

Her car was parked beside a tall SUV, and she surprised him again by dragging him to the driver’s side of the mammoth vehicle.

‘What are you—’

He got no further, because she pushed him against the SUV, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into the hottest kiss he’d ever had. Her fingers tunneled through his hair, and she lifted on her toes as she licked into his mouth, making his already hard cock throb. The groan that rumbled through his chest was met by her frustrated little moan as she rubbed her hips against him, trying to get higher.

Without thinking, he turned them so that her back was against the SUV, and gave her a boost up before trapping her body with his and thrusting between her legs. Her pleasured hum vibrated against his lips, and he put a little swivel into his thrusts as he slid his hands inside her jacket and closed them over her breasts, thumbing nipples that were already so hard he could feel them through her shirt and bra.

She pulled back with a gasp, her head pressed against the SUV. ‘Oh God,’ she panted. ‘You need to stop. I can’t . . . Not here in the parking lot. Let me down.’

He ignored her, circling his hips against hers, lowering his head to suck hard on her right breast, the nipple like a pebble against his tongue.

‘Marcus,’ she groaned. ‘Please. Not here. Wait till . . .’ She gasped again when he lightly bit her. ‘Oh my God. You have to wait until we get home.’

Reluctantly he released her breast, giving it a parting nuzzle before kissing her mouth again. ‘You started it,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Kissing me like that.’

‘You started it,’ she said, trying to get her breath. ‘I told you not to look at me like that.’

He lowered her feet to the asphalt and rested his forehead against hers. ‘Like what?’

‘Like you want to eat me alive. I would have jumped you in front of everyone if Diesel hadn’t intervened.’

‘That was twenty minutes ago.’

She bit his lower lip, then licked it. ‘Doesn’t matter. Makes me crazy. So crazy that we’re standing like this out here in the open.’ She pushed his chest lightly, then slipped around him to unlock the car door. ‘Get in, please.’

Still wound way too tight, he obeyed. ‘How long will it take you to drop off the bullet?’

She slid behind the wheel. ‘Ten minutes. I’ll go straight to Ballistics and won’t talk to anyone else.’ She said it like she was promising herself more than him. ‘I have to park this car and get mine, so make sure you take everything that belongs to you.’

Like the gun he’d stowed under the passenger seat. He tried to bend down to reach it, but gave up with a grimace. ‘Can’t yet.’