Now Bowen rose, standing fully. His hands were loose at his sides. "That's the kind of thinking that will drive you insane. Trust me, I know that for certain."
Her stomach was in knots. "You see why I can't stay on the sidelines? I can't let someone else die because of me. I won't."
* * *
EVERY FEW MOMENTS, Tucker could hear the rush of wind overhead-that rush signaled a car sweeping across the overpass. He'd gotten to that little motel in near record time. A handful of vehicles were in the small lot, and the red sign near the little office flashed that there was a VACANCY. He started walking toward that office. He'd question the clerk inside, find out which room Red was in and then he'd question the guy. Anthony should be there any moment. Hell, he'd actually thought the detective might beat him to the scene.
///
But... Tucker stilled. He was about fifteen feet away from the motel's office, but he'd just noticed one of the room doors was halfway open. He turned, eyes narrowing. The light was on inside that room, he could see it shining through the blinds. He thought he could hear the murmur of...voices. Or was that a TV?
His heart rate kicked up. Could be nothing. Could be some guy who'd run out to get ice and he'd forgotten to close the room door behind him.
Could be nothing...
But Tucker found himself pulling his gun. "Hello?" he called out as he advanced toward that room. "Is everything okay in there?" His nostrils twitched because...a thick, cloying scent was hitting him.
Everything is not okay.
He hurried forward. He pushed that door farther open and then-
Blood.
Blood poured from the gaping wound in the man's throat. Blood matted in his long beard. Blood soaked his shirt. Blood coated the cheap carpet beneath him.
And-
The man's hand twitched.
He's still alive.
Tucker surged forward and dropped to his knees beside the guy. He knew he was staring at Red. The guy looked just as Dawn had described. Only in her description the poor bastard wasn't carved up and bleeding out!
"I'm FBI," Tucker said as his hands pressed to the gaping wound at the man's throat. Immediately, his fingers were soaked with blood. "Stay calm. I'm here to help-"
Red's eyes fluttered open. Did he even see Tucker? The fellow's gaze was bleary, pain-filled. His lips moved as if he'd speak.
You can't speak, buddy. Some bastard cut your throat open.
"Hold on," Tucker said. "I'm going to get you help. You're going to be okay-"
Footsteps rushed behind him, and Tucker looked up. He'd put his gun down when he ran to Red's side, and if the perp was coming back to attack again...
But, no, Anthony stood in the doorway. His eyes were wide, his weapon drawn. "I heard your voice," he said, stepping closer as his frantic gaze took in the scene. "Fuck!"
"Call an ambulance!" Tucker barked.
Anthony yanked out his phone.
Red's body jerked. His eyelids twitched then began to sink closed.
"Red?" Tucker said.
No response.
"Red!"
* * *
SHE WAS STARING out at the city lights when she heard the ring of a phone behind her. Not her phone, though, because she didn't recognize that ringtone, and a moment later she heard Bowen say, "Hey, man. She's good. Got my eyes on her right now." A brief pause. "Now tell me you found our witness."
Silence.
"I see." Bowen's voice had become stilted. "Right. Yes, I know you made the right call. Never doubted it. No, no, don't worry. I'm not going anyplace and neither is she."
Her shoulders stiffened.
"I'll be here when you get back. We'll both be here."
More silence as he ended the call. She kept staring out at the city. From her position, she could see a barge on the river. Lights were on that barge, but the river was just darkness beneath it. Jason got lost in the darkness.
The Mississippi was so strong. The authorities had sent dive teams in the water, but they hadn't found Jason's body. They'd said that gators might have gotten to him...or maybe his body had been pulled out by the current. Pulled deeper into the Mississippi...that he could have been taken all the way to the Gulf.
That it would be impossible to ever find his body.
She heard the squeak of the couch and the faint rustle of Bowen's steps behind her. "Let me guess," Dawn finally said as she stopped staring at the barge but instead caught sight of his reflection in the window as he approached her. "You get to keep babysitting me while Tucker and Anthony are interviewing Red?"
"No." A quick, curt response. His reflection looked big and dark, tense. Dawn glanced over her shoulder.