Emmanuel might have taken her far away or hidden her someplace where they wouldn’t be able to find her. Or he could have killed her.
Things had changed. Emmanuel’s games had been exposed, there was every chance he had changed his plans. Just because he couldn’t let Grace go didn't mean he was going to let her live. A murder suicide was a definite possibility.
“Matthew?”
He blinked, realized he’d zoned out, and forced himself to focus.
Grace was counting on him.
“How did he get her? I told her to run, get help.” Which she’d obviously done since he was still alive. An ambulance must have reached him before he bled out, and although there was pain in his chest, he felt better than he thought he probably should. No doubt the adrenalin rush of learning Grace had been taken again.
“He didn't come alone. He brought Barbara Lack with him. The woman had a bullet wound in her foot and had been killed with a single bullet to the head,” Elijah explained.
“He kidnapped her to use as bait, in case he needed motivation to get Grace to come to him,” he said.
“It worked,” Allina said.
Elijah swore then raked his fingers through his hair. “I was on the phone with her. I told her I was coming, that we’d be there soon. It only took us eleven minutes to get to her from when she phoned, we probably missed her by only a minute or two. A minute or two,” he repeated, anger and grief mingled together on his face.
That same memory that had teased him while he was regaining consciousness poked at him now.
There was something important he had to remember.
The key.
He knew it was and yet he couldn’t force the hazy memory to clear.
“If he didn't get her then he would have gotten her some other time, he was determined,” Allina reminded her husband as she slipped her arms around his waist.
“Did you hear something? See something?” Elijah asked, desperation in his voice.
“There’s something,” he said, frustrated with himself. What did he know?
Elijah’s eyes lit up. “Come on, man, figure it out, my sister is counting on you.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped. “You think I'm not trying to figure it out?”
“Getting angry isn’t going to help you,” Ali said, playing peacemaker. “Try to calm down. You were weak, you lost a lot of blood. Bullet got you in the chest, but it was low and bounced off your ribs, missing everything important, it went through and through. He wasn’t trying to kill you, just get you out of the way. You would have been tired, but you were still looking out for Grace, you told her to run, to get someplace safe knowing he’d be coming. You were unconscious by the time we got to you, but you might have only just passed out. Emmanuel shot the woman, using a different weapon, not the sniper rifle. You would have heard it, it might have roused you. Try to put yourself back in the car, what did you hear?”
Clearing everything else from his mind he focused.
He’d been tired, struggling to keep his eyes open, listening for signs of help coming.
He’d been drifting off when he heard the gunshot.
Then a man’s voice.
I’m aiming for her shoulder this time, Grace, and you only have until I count to two to get out here, I'm losing patience. When I finish with her, I'm going to go back to the car and make sure your shadow is finished off. Did he force himself on you, Grace, like the last male friend you had?
The words echoed inside his head as his gaze snapped up. “I know who he is.” Matthew began removing the tubes and wires attached to his body. He needed clothes and shoes so he could get out of here.
“What are you doing?” Elijah demanded. “And what do you mean you know who he is?”
“I don’t think they’re discharging you,” Allina added.
“Don’t care, I'm not sitting around here while that maniac has Grace.”
“Who is he?” Elijah asked.