Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,69
her friend pretty forcefully. “Nan, are you hurt?”
“No. The contractions…are…ouch! Way close together, though.”
Con’s assessing glance swept the perimeter. “Where’s the gun?”
“I don’t know. When Nan hit him, it flew into the mounds of batting.”
“Was it an Uzi?”
“No, a pistol. Huge. Black. Long cylinder attached to the barrel.”
He frowned. “Get Nan upstairs. I’ll restrain and contain the suspect, and locate the weapon.” His frown deepened. “Too bad there’s no dentist office in this mall. We might need running water, towels and scissors.”
Nan groaned. “Curl up…and die.”
Con helped Nan to her feet, and the puffing woman leaned against him. His arms tightened in a quick hug. “I know you’re feeling rocky, but nobody will die. I promise.”
Nan’s laugh was ragged. “Upstairs. Beauty salon. Curl Up and D-Y-E. Water, towels, scissors.”
Con nodded at Bailey. “Go. I’ll meet you there.”
“Um, guys?” Nan’s voice rose. “My water just broke.” She doubled over and would have fallen if not for Con’s support.
After the contraction eased, Bailey managed to urge Nan up several stairs while Con riffled through mounds of batting. He came up empty-handed. “Damn, we need that weapon.”
Nan groaned again and had to rest. “This kid isn’t waiting.”
Bailey bit her lip. “I doubt I can get her up three flights alone.”
Con forcefully exhaled, strode to meet them, and then swept Nan into his arms. “I’ll get her situated and double back.”
As the group climbed, the unconscious man came into view. Nan grinned. “Smack down! Go, Bailey!”
Bailey looked at her fallen assailant. No triumph sang in her veins. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, and took no joy in it. Sadly, he’d pushed her to that decision. The bank robber had forced her to chose. She’d chosen survival. Chosen to save Nan and the baby. She would do it again, without hesitation.
They continued the long ascent and Con shot a concerned look over his shoulder. She held his gaze, mutely assuring him she was maintaining. A shimmer of understanding passed between them. She’d received a crash course about living in his world. About standing between evil and the innocent. Her dragon had roared in outrage and helped her protect Nan and the baby.
Not such a tough moral dilemma after all.
Upstairs, Bailey quickly detoured into Outdoor Outfitters to grab a camping stove. With Con still carrying Nan, the trio arrived at the beauty salon.
Con deposited Nan in a gray vinyl shampoo chair and covered her with the Polarshield blanket. He tugged the lever to raise the footrest, so she could semi-recline. “I’ve got to return to the scene and secure the perp.”
Nan clutched his sleeve. “No! Don’t go! The baby’s coming!”
That was all he needed. “Listen to me.” Desperate, he grasped her shoulders. “You cannot have that baby. Not here. Not now.”
The pretty brunette scowled. “Don’t think there’s much choice.”
He wrestled down a tsunami of panic. “Tell the kid this is not a good time to show up.”
“You think I haven’t? He’s not paying attention,” Nan moaned. “Not born yet…and already disobeying his mother.”
Bailey touched Con’s forearm. “Everything will be fine. You’re trained in first aid.” Her anxious expression said, Please assure me I’m right.
He wished to hell he could neutralize her fears. Along with his own. He was out of his element…by a galaxy. Or six. “Combat first aid. Bullet holes. Burns. Missing limbs.” He scrubbed an unsteady hand over his bristly jaw. “SWAT teams deliver high-risk warrants. Not babies!”
Bailey gnawed her lip. A habit she employed when upset. Well, he didn’t feel like the king of the world, either. She squared her shoulders. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Right. But why did his first time have to be here? Tonight?
He accessed the red walkie-talkie. “Command, this is the Nutcracker. Get the medic, stat. Over.” His heart pounded so loudly in his ears, he hoped he could hear the response.
Bailey draped the Polarshield blanket more securely over Nan. “You need to remove your undergarments. I’ll find towels and scissors.”
“Hey, Nutcracker.” His brother Grady’s amiable voice spoke in his ear. “Doc Holliday, here. About to have yourself a little peanut, huh?”
“This is so not funny, Doc,” Con murmured.
“I know it isn’t.” Grady’s voice grew serious. “There’s a buttload of things that can go wrong. So pay attention.”
Watching Bailey light the stove and assemble equipment, Con digested Grady’s instructions. He stared at Nan in disbelief. “Say again, Doc? You want me to look where? And do what?”
Grady repeated his tutorial. Good Lord.
Con washed his hands in the sink beside Nan. He returned to the foot of