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Authors: Lisa Ladew
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dead run back the way he had came. He buzzed through the doors, got the heavy, satisfactory weight of his gun back, and ran for his car.
They didn’t even search his truck on the way out. Craig shook his head, knowing Norman was long gone already. He just prayed Norman wasn’t in Westwood Harbor.
Chapter 13
C raig had a dozen phone calls to make, but he didn’t dare make any of them while he was pushing his truck over 100 mph back to Westwood Harbor. He slowed down long enough to call Emma, who didn’t answer, so he called dispatch, who said she was at a vehicle accident on the Westwood Bridge.
Craig’s mind showed him horrible images of Norman grabbing her in a dozen different ways. Or worse, just driving by and filling her body with bullets. Craig debated calling her boss and trying to have her pulled off of work detail after the car accident but he never did do it. He just kept praying.
The road flew by for over an hour, and when he reached the foothills of town he tried her cell again, and again it went right to voicemail. He turned on his scanner, hoping to catch her voice. Voice traffic on the radio was heavy. The accident had been a bad one and multiple units had been called to the scene for extrication and transport. Cars heading on the bridge in both directions were at a standstill and no foot traffic was allowed on the bridge, so that meant Norman couldn’t to get her if she was still there. Craig called dispatch again and she was still at the accident.
He wanted to head right to where she was and stand guard over her for the rest of the day, but he knew it would take forever for him to get through the backed up traffic on the bridge, so he drove to a point where he knew she’d have to drive past to get to the hospital when she was done, and found a parking lot to park in where he could see the road.
Then he started making his phone calls.
Call one was to Hawk, who answered on the first ring. “Hawk, you’re not going to believe this. I went out to see Norman Foster today and he escaped.”
“What?” Hawk roared, and Craig heard something clatter in the background.
Craig pinched his forehead right between his brows and squeezed his eyes shut. “They let him escape. I don’t know much more than that right now. I drove back into town to make sure Emma was OK. I’m going to call out there and find out the details now. I’ll call you back. I wanted to call you so you could get that brain working on where he might go or what his plan might be.”
“I’m on it.” Hawk’s voice was gruff, solid, dependable.
Craig nodded, still squeezing his forehead, leaving nail marks on his skin. “Bye.”
Call two was to Sergeant Coleman at the hospital. “Sergeant Coleman, I’m sorry I left like that. I needed to make sure the woman who shot Foster and put him in the hospital was safe. Now, give me the details.”
Sergeant Coleman laid out everything they knew. Norman had been put in general population several days ago, but in a room that housed other paralyzed or neurological patients. Two days before there had been an actual attempt on Norman’s life by a prisoner from a different ward who was on a work detail in that ward. Norman had been sliced on the neck with a makeshift knife but the wounds the assailant had made before guards got to him had only been superficial. Somehow Norman had ended up on the ground, but guards just thought he had fallen or been pulled out of the bed. The assailant had been put in solitary confinement and wouldn’t say why he had done it. Coleman had interviewed the man himself, and was convinced he was going to try again if he got a chance. Coleman didn’t think it was because Norman was a cop, but rather because someone had bribed the guy to do it.
After that incident, they had to move Norman back into a private room, but his old room had already been taken. Because of overcrowding they had nowhere left to put him and so they put him in a nonstandard room. Meaning
They didn’t even search his truck on the way out. Craig shook his head, knowing Norman was long gone already. He just prayed Norman wasn’t in Westwood Harbor.
Chapter 13
C raig had a dozen phone calls to make, but he didn’t dare make any of them while he was pushing his truck over 100 mph back to Westwood Harbor. He slowed down long enough to call Emma, who didn’t answer, so he called dispatch, who said she was at a vehicle accident on the Westwood Bridge.
Craig’s mind showed him horrible images of Norman grabbing her in a dozen different ways. Or worse, just driving by and filling her body with bullets. Craig debated calling her boss and trying to have her pulled off of work detail after the car accident but he never did do it. He just kept praying.
The road flew by for over an hour, and when he reached the foothills of town he tried her cell again, and again it went right to voicemail. He turned on his scanner, hoping to catch her voice. Voice traffic on the radio was heavy. The accident had been a bad one and multiple units had been called to the scene for extrication and transport. Cars heading on the bridge in both directions were at a standstill and no foot traffic was allowed on the bridge, so that meant Norman couldn’t to get her if she was still there. Craig called dispatch again and she was still at the accident.
He wanted to head right to where she was and stand guard over her for the rest of the day, but he knew it would take forever for him to get through the backed up traffic on the bridge, so he drove to a point where he knew she’d have to drive past to get to the hospital when she was done, and found a parking lot to park in where he could see the road.
Then he started making his phone calls.
Call one was to Hawk, who answered on the first ring. “Hawk, you’re not going to believe this. I went out to see Norman Foster today and he escaped.”
“What?” Hawk roared, and Craig heard something clatter in the background.
Craig pinched his forehead right between his brows and squeezed his eyes shut. “They let him escape. I don’t know much more than that right now. I drove back into town to make sure Emma was OK. I’m going to call out there and find out the details now. I’ll call you back. I wanted to call you so you could get that brain working on where he might go or what his plan might be.”
“I’m on it.” Hawk’s voice was gruff, solid, dependable.
Craig nodded, still squeezing his forehead, leaving nail marks on his skin. “Bye.”
Call two was to Sergeant Coleman at the hospital. “Sergeant Coleman, I’m sorry I left like that. I needed to make sure the woman who shot Foster and put him in the hospital was safe. Now, give me the details.”
Sergeant Coleman laid out everything they knew. Norman had been put in general population several days ago, but in a room that housed other paralyzed or neurological patients. Two days before there had been an actual attempt on Norman’s life by a prisoner from a different ward who was on a work detail in that ward. Norman had been sliced on the neck with a makeshift knife but the wounds the assailant had made before guards got to him had only been superficial. Somehow Norman had ended up on the ground, but guards just thought he had fallen or been pulled out of the bed. The assailant had been put in solitary confinement and wouldn’t say why he had done it. Coleman had interviewed the man himself, and was convinced he was going to try again if he got a chance. Coleman didn’t think it was because Norman was a cop, but rather because someone had bribed the guy to do it.
After that incident, they had to move Norman back into a private room, but his old room had already been taken. Because of overcrowding they had nowhere left to put him and so they put him in a nonstandard room. Meaning
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