Page 2 of Collateral Damage

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No one is innocent.

I couldn’t get enough of her until somebody took her from me, and I hadn’t been the same since.

Outwardly, everyone but Sofia thought I was fine, and she’d given me the space I’d told her I badly needed. I threw myself into my work. It was what saved me.

Jaded but still passionate about what I did outside of my Mafia responsibilities, I geared up to focus on the patients I would be helping. I had a light shift, and after the chaos with the ambush organized by Guido Amato, one of the New York Mafia underbosses, I needed to regroup and log a few more hours of sleep—preferably without the world imploding with my family or at the hospital where I was staffed.

Something was different, and a sixth sense sounded an internal alarm that snapped me from my thoughts. My instincts flared. A surge of adrenaline shot through me, erasing the indifference and fatigue. My gaze darted around the busy floor as I cataloged everything out of place—it was in the silence as the staff went about their jobs and the absence of triage. No codes were called. The air was heavy, a sense of somberness significant in the lack of smiles or gossip at the nurses’ station and the pallor of Sandy’s face as she hung up the phone.

The pen in her hand shook before she set it down. Her big blue eyes were devoid of all teasing when they met mine, which was highly unusual. I slid a hand inside my open lab coat and around the back, where I’d tucked my gun in the waistband of my pants. “Sandy.” I approached her slowly, noting the tremble in her lower lip. “What’s the problem this morning?”

“Mr. Mitchel asked that you see him immediately.” Her voice cracked.

Allen Mitchel ran the hospital. He didn’t deserve the position, but his marriage to Vanessa Carmichael had afforded him the honor, as her family owned the hospital among other businesses, including Chicago’s prized professional hockey team.

I took the elevator up to the top floor, where the executive staff offices were. Once off the elevator, I headed down the hall toward Allen’s door. Two Chicago police officers exited his office, and I nodded to them. Their eyes were wary with recognition, but they returned the greeting.

Allen’s door was open. Not bothering to knock, I let myself in then towered over his slumped form at his desk. I waited, not saying a word. Being summoned by him wasn’t something I would typically respond to, but Sandy’s reaction had propelled me to see what the issue was. Seeing cops leave made me curious.

Slowly, he raised his head. I took in the disheveled hair that on an average day was smoothed to perfection, the red-rimmed eyes, and the loosened tie. I stood silently, waiting.

“Trey.” He cleared his throat then swiped a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I know we’ve had our differences.”

I grinned—couldn’t help it. He threw a lot of shade in my direction without outright calling me out. I knew his arrogant type. He thought he was better than everyone else because of his position and he’d married into money. I wasn’t impressed.

“Yes, well.” A spark of annoyance flashed across his drawn features, tightening them at my response. “Today, I was to meet my daughter to talk about having her spearhead the hospital fundraiser this spring.” He inhaled through his nose, taking a moment to compose his suddenly misty eyes. “She never made it.”

The news hit me hard, but I kept my face expressionless. “That’s why the police were here?”

He nodded, his forehead pinched with deep lines. “I’ll have to go to the station soon to give a statement, but I fear she won’t be found in time.”

Is she dead?That was what it seemed he had been leading up to. “I have things to do, Allen. Stop playing games and tell me what you’re talking about without the melodrama.”

A dark flash filled his eyes then disappeared so quickly that most would have discounted it. I filed that away for later. Whatever was going on, he was hiding something.

“I was almost inside the hospital entrance when Hailey crossed from the parking lot. She’d called out to me, and I turned just as a white van pulled up behind her. A man dressed in black and wearing a ski mask jumped out and grabbed her. He threw her into the back and drove away before I could get to her.”

The Carmichael family were one-percenters. I guessed that the abduction was about money. “What does this have to do with me?” It didn’t. I was curious why he’d told me anything, especially since he’d made it so evident that I shouldn’t be on staff at the hospital—his snobby disposition had telegraphed his opinion loud and clear. I’d let it go, not caring enough to put him in his place. Despite his executive position, he was a peon, and he didn’t do any actual work. No one took him seriously.

“I want you to find her.”

“I don’t think so.” I smirked at the ridiculousness of his request, even though I knew damn well I would find her—but without his help. “Let the cops do their job.” I pivoted to leave.

“Wait.”

I stopped, rested my shoulder against the doorjamb, and watched as he froze in a half-standing position behind his desk, desperation pulling his hawklike aristocratic features taut.

“Her abductor called me with a ransom demand. They want ten million for Hailey’s safe return. We have seventy-two hours. No police.”

That was a longer time than I would have expected. “She’s already dead, then, as you’ve involved the cops.”

“They were only here because one of the security guards witnessed Hailey’s abduction. I haven’t shown the police the security tape. I told them there was a glitch and nothing recorded.”

A sheen of sweat gathered along his upper lip, and the killer instinct in me honed to laser focus. “Who else knows about your little misdemeanor, Allen?”

“No one. I swear.”

“And Hailey’s mother? Have you told her what happened on your watch?”


Tags: Amy McKinley Romance