mom seriously.”
“If she had told us she had a concern, which she did not.” He started the Mustang and headed for the exit. “We don’t even know for sure she had concerns, just your suspicions of it.”
“I know. And it makes no sense she wouldn’t say something to the marshal service. She’s very security conscious. Still...” She speared her fingers into her hair and sighed. “Then again, she wouldn’t want to look silly if it came to nothing.” She rested her hands on her cheeks. “It’s all pointless now.”
“Except for future reference.”
“If she has a future.” Her voice did that strangled squeaky thing that told Nick she was worried or frightened or probably both.
“We’ll see to it she has a future, Kristen.”
She gazed out the window. “Where are you taking me?”
“To the hospital on Harrison. The urgent care centers all seem to be closed by now.”
Nine o’clock. The judge had been gone for three hours. She might be dead. Surely they were foolish criminals if they believed they would get away with harming a hair on a federal judge. But if law enforcement heard nothing within the next few hours, Nick feared for Her Honor.
If he could have taken after that SUV instead of babysitting one perpetrator and the daughter, he might have caught them. Probably not in the traffic, but possibly.
First he would get Kristen’s feet seen to and then take her home, wherever she lived. Federal agents would already be setting up at the judge’s house awaiting a ransom call or some kind of demand from the kidnapper. Once Kristen was there, Nick was free to go home.
Home sounded wonderful. Food. His cat. A comfortable chair in which to relax.
As if he could with the judge missing and this lovely young woman castigating herself over that disappearance.
Maybe he should take her to his parents’ house, if Callahan would allow it. Miss Kristen Lang shouldn’t be alone. He would ask. First, he would get her to the emergency room.
With light traffic, they reached the hospital two miles away in no time. On a weeknight the emergency room wasn’t busy. Shortly after their arrival, Kristen was in a wheelchair and whisked to a bed.
“You can go now,” she told him. “I can call someone to take me home.”
“Sorry, but I can’t leave you until you’re home.” Nick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
“Is she a prisoner?” a nurse asked.
“She’s a victim under protective custody for the moment. But just her feet need taken care of.”
The nurse asked Kristen if that was true. When she nodded, shooting Nick a glare, a doctor came in, looked at her battered feet, then issued orders. The staff got to work cleansing, bandaging, giving tetanus and antibiotic shots. Through it all, Kristen lay on the gurney with her face a mask, her eyes squeezed shut, and Nick remained in his stance against the wall—
Until his cell rang.
“Excuse me.” He started to leave the cubicle.
Kristen shot upright and grabbed his arm. “Is it to do with my mother?”
“I won’t know until I answer.” Nick patted her hand and slipped down the corridor.
The call was about her mother. What Nick learned left him leaning against another wall, his hands balled into fists at his sides, every calming technique he knew employed to make him appear passive when he returned to Kristen.
Those blue eyes collided with his the instant he stepped into her cubicle. “What?” Her voice was a mere breath.
“Not until we’re away from here.”
He wasn’t discussing this in front of hospital personnel or patients.
“We’re done.” Kristen swung her legs over the side of the gurney.
The nurse appeared from nowhere. “You can’t walk on those feet.”
“I can’t stay. I must get out of here. I can’t... I won’t...” She pressed her hand to her chest, her words growing faster, her breathing shallow.
“I’ll get the doctor.” The nurse sped off on nearly silent feet.
“Easy there.” Nick clasped Kristen’s hands in his. “If you have a panic attack, they may admit you.”
“I can’t breathe in here.” She tugged one hand free and clutched at her throat.
“I’ll fetch a chair.” Nick released her other hand and found a wheelchair in the corridor.
“You can’t take that,” an orderly called down the hallway.
Nick ignored him and helped Kristen into the chair. With the orderly and nurse calling after them, Nick whisked Kristen from the emergency room and out to his car. His credentials had stopped security from having his vehicle towed, so they didn’t have far to go. In moments, Kristen was buckled into the passenger seat and Nick behind the wheel.
He only drove as far as the exit before pulling over and turning to Kristen. “We’ve heard a ransom demand of sorts.”
“Of sorts? What does that mean?” Her blue eyes were enormous dark pools in the glow of the dashboard and security lights. “Too little money to be legitimate? Passage out of the country?”
“You.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Nick took a deep breath, nearly choking on the lingering odors of the hospital clinging to them—and the words he had to impart to this lovely, anxious woman. “The kidnappers called your phone while it was in the marshal’s office. They want you in exchange for your mother alive.”
Kristen didn’t have time to fall apart. As much as she wanted to crumple into as small a ball as a woman who was five feet ten inches could, she understood with the sensible part of her brain she must remain calm, composed, logical.
The rest of her brain shoved the sensible bit aside like a snowplow clearing a road and barreled over any notions of not drawing in on herself. She pulled her knees to her chest, a tight fit in the sports car. With her shins resting against the glove compartment she could barely wrap her arms around her knees and lower her head. Her hair, a tangled, still-damp mass, curtained her face so she didn’t have to look at headlights flashing by on the street or Nick’s face displaying what was more than likely impatience or disgust.
The sensible portion of Kristen’s brain registered impatience and disgust with her upright fetal position. But they were weakly expressed emotions, too feeble to overpower the deep aching horror ripping a hole in her heart and through to her soul.
Two men had kidnapped her mother instead of her. Yet they wanted her, not her mother.
“I should have known something was up when that SUV kept following me.” The words squeezed out of her constricted throat. “I should have told you about it. I should have told Mom about it. But I couldn’t think why anyone would want me. I still don’t know why. Now...if anything happens to her...” She couldn’t continue with the thought. She couldn’t think about anything happening to her mother, especially when that anything would be her fault.
“Kristen.” Nick’s voice was low and gentle, calming. “We are doing everything we can to ensure nothing happens to your mother.”
“They want me.” She spoke to her lap. “You can get my mother back by giving them me.”
“Out of the question.”
Of course it was.