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Ricco greeted the two men, his body slightly in front of his wife. “I didn’t expect to see you with all the business going down on the second floor. We called in the fact that someone tried to kill Grace and Emme with some kind of gas, but we’re all safe. You have a crime scene down there.”

Grace’s hand jerked in his. Vittorio immediately turned his full attention on her. His thumb slid over the back of her hand and he pressed her palm tightly to his thigh. He hadn’t had the chance to gently tell her what had happened to Ale Sarto. She was intelligent, and she knew that whatever had brought the police detectives to the second floor probably wasn’t a coincidence with Haydon’s strike at her.

“Grace and Emme need care,” he said. “Perhaps we should take this into another room.”

“We need to speak to Ms. Murphy,” Art said.

Vittorio frowned. “You are aware she was shot and the surgery was . . . complicated. She’s in pain and another attempt has been made on her life. She has to use oxygen in order to counteract the gas. This isn’t a good time.”

“Vittorio.” Jason Bradshaw gave a little sigh. “We wouldn’t bother her if it wasn’t important. I believe you were on the second floor in a meeting with your brothers when the bodies were discovered. We were told Stefano cleared the crime scene and held everyone who had gone into the room. You and Ricco raced upstairs to make certain Ms. Murphy and your sister were okay. Clearly, they weren’t. We have to do everything we can to catch this man.”

“I can tell you Haydon Phillips is a serial killer and he’s been killing for years. Unfortunately, there’s no proof.”

Art’s gaze jumped to Grace’s face. He looked like what he was, a shrewd, intelligent man capable of putting pieces of a puzzle together very fast. “I need to know everything you know.” He directed his statement to Grace, deliberately bypassing Vittorio, who he knew to be immovable. “We have to stop him, Ms. Murphy, and I don’t believe we can do that without your help.”

Vittorio felt tremors running through Grace’s body as she nodded. Her gaze clung almost desperately to his. Now she knew Haydon had killed someone on the second floor of the hospital. Not only had he attacked her, but also Emme, Mariko and their bodyguards. He’d done so in broad daylight. Very gently, Vittorio gathered her closer, shifting her body so he could keep her injured shoulder and arm away from everyone while he positioned himself between her and the detectives. He was the one to remove the mask for her, retaining possession of her hand.

“She’ll need to use the oxygen after five minutes,” Vittorio said. “I’ve texted her doctor to see if that will be problematic. If it is, she’s back on it.” He glanced at his younger sister to make certain she was continuing to use the oxygen.

Emme winked at him but kept her head turned away from the two detectives. She didn’t want to answer questions or talk to them. Both men were waiting for Vittorio to give them the okay to question Grace. Grace actually shifted closer to him. He knew she wasn’t aware of it, but the tremors had increased.

“Someone murdered Ale Sarto, and the policeman guarding him. Sarto was tortured before he was killed. It was very ugly.”

Grace tried to jerk her hand away, but Vittorio kept his fingers firmly around hers, pressing her palm into his thigh and stroking his thumb soothingly across her hand. He turned his head to look at her, letting her see he was with her. She wasn’t going through it alone, the way she’d done all of her life. He was there to help her if she needed it, but anyone brave enough to step in front of a gun for a virtual stranger would help the police when she got the chance.

He held her gaze for as long as it took. He didn’t care if the detectives were waiting. He cared about Grace and her state of mind. The police weren’t going to find Haydon Phillips if the Ferraros couldn’t, not that night. The detectives could wait until she was steady. He saw it in her eyes first. She had the beginnings of trust in him. He needed that from her. To gain the kind of absolute faith and trust he needed from her, he had to show in every way that he would always be there for her. That trust could never be in any way taken for granted or abused.

He nodded his head at her in approval the moment he saw her conquer the fear that had been so deeply ingrained in her by Haydon. Her restless fingers stopped digging into his thigh, but she pressed her palm harder into his muscle, a purely instinctive kind of reaction she didn’t seem aware of.


Tags: Christine Feehan Shadow Riders Fantasy