the operator’s voice when I lose Hugo’s pulse. “If you don’t get them here now, he’s dead!” I scream down the line before throwing my cell back onto the asphalt to commence CPR.
“Come on, Hugo.” I thump on his tattooed chest to shock his heart before commencing compressions. “Don’t give up! Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die.”
Ignoring the fact I screamed the same words to Joey, I compress Hugo’s chest until first responders arrive to overtake the legwork. As they attach an oxygen mask to Hugo’s face, I scuttle backward, praying the outcome this time around won’t end with a white sheet being draped. I’ve seen that image too many times in my life. I don’t want to see it again.
I breathe for the first time in what feels like minutes when the transportable heart monitor picks up a faint, yet there, heartbeat. “You did good,” the paramedic praises, stunned he didn’t arrive to a DOA.
“Well done,” my assistant commends, patting me on the shoulder. He looks like he wants to hug me, but considering my shirt is covered with vibrant red blood, he holds back.
I shift on my feet to face an elderly lady with a face full of wrinkles when she asks, “What happened to the woman in the Range Rover? Did your team get her?”
“Woman? What woman?” I ask, shocked.
Her pupils widen to the size of saucers as the color drains from her face. “That’s why he was chasing them. They pulled a female into the back of a Range Rover at the bottom of St. Thomas Hill.” She clutches her chest as her bottom lip shakes. “Oh dear, I hope she’s okay?”
“What did she look like? Can you give me a brief description?” I say ‘brief’ as this lady looks like she could talk my ear off.
“About this tall.” She holds her hand a foot taller than her height, which I’d guess to be around four-eight or so. “Chestnut hair. Was wearing jogging clothes and running with him.” She nudges her head to Hugo who’s being placed onto a gurney by four first responders.
“Was it her?” My hand shakes when I scroll through the images on my phone, seeking one of Isabelle. I scanned many of her into the Bureau mainframe the past few months, but these are from my private collection. “She’s a couple of years older than this photo now.”
When I spin my phone around to face the lady, she nods.
Fuck!
As I strive to keep my head in game mode, I ponder what to do. I could have the operator busying up my phone to dispatch Ravenshoe PD, but they’ll take minutes to get here. Furthermore, just like the New York PD doesn’t run New York, neither does Ravenshoe PD.
Isaac all but owns this town.
When I spot Hugo’s cell phone sitting just left of a puddle of blood, I jump into action. “Wait.” The first responders stop pushing Hugo toward the ambulance, startled by my shout. “I need his thumbprint.” Hugo’s phone isn’t your standard cell phone. I haven’t seen this brand before, leading me to believe it’s a private network Isaac’s team uses.
“Where are you taking him?”
As a dark-haired responder replies, I scroll through Hugo’s recently called list to locate the last number he dialed. Although the area code is foreign, Isaac answers two seconds later. The worry in his tone advises me he’s aware of the critical situation unfolding. I’m not surprised. He seems to know what’s going to happen in Ravenshoe before it occurs.
“Hugo.”
“It’s Brandon,” I correct, my greeting somewhat curt. “Hugo has been shot. They’re taking him to Mercer Hospital.”
Isaac’s exhale is rigid enough to be felt from here. “Instruct them to take him to Ravenshoe Private. Tell them it’s at the request of Isaac Holt. I’ll call the head of surgery there and advise her of his impending arrival.”
“Okay.” After muzzling the phone, I pass on my instructions. The unnamed first responder looks surprised by my request, but he nods his head, nonetheless.
Once they have Hugo loaded into the back of the ambulance, I shift my focus back to Isaac. “Isaac…”
“Yes…”
The desperateness in his voice has me switching tactics. I was planning to tell him to be cautious, his every move is being monitored. Instead, I disclose just how closely he’s being scrutinized. “Ask Regan to call the head of the FBI division in our county. Alex will help if he knows it’s for Izzy.” When silence resonates down the line, I give credit to my