“When we get out of here,” Flynn said, “will you tell me what’s going on?”

Mica flicked her gaze to the door as if worried someone might overhear. “You don’t want to know. There’s nothing you can do and—well, you see what kind of trouble you can get into just being around me.”

Flynn gripped her fingers more firmly, sensing her wanting to withdraw. “You weren’t the one making the trouble. Don’t run out on me.”

“You ask a lot.”

“Do I? Do you mind?”

“I don’t know.” Mica frowned. “I just don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that.”

“Because you don’t seem to have much sense.”

Flynn smiled and tried not to laugh. She couldn’t breathe enough to laugh. “You know, you really make me feel special.”

Mica grinned. “Good.” She blushed. “’Cause, you know, you are.”

“Mica,” Flynn said seriously, “the police will want to talk to us. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” Mica said quickly. “Why not.”

Flynn recognized the bravado for what it was, an attempt to cover up her uncertainty. “I know these people. You can trust them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“I wish…”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Look, when this is over, I want you to come home with me.”

“Um, I think your timing needs a little work.”

“Not that way,” Flynn said. “I don’t think you ought to be alone. And besides, I’m not going to be very functional and I could use the company.”

Mica narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re playing me now.”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Mica ran her fingers through Flynn’s hair. “Maybe I feel a little bit sorry for you.”

“Thanks.” Flynn leaned her cheek against Mica’s palm, relieved that Mica had agreed to stay with her. Whoever the guy was, he was still out there, and Mica was vulnerable. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her.

Allie strode through the door. “Hey, Flynn. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Flynn tugged Mica a little closer, afraid she would bolt. “A few bumps and bruises is all.”

“Uh-huh.” Allie didn’t look like she believed her, her cool gaze assessing Mica. “Dr. King said it would be okay if we got your statements now. I’ll take you,” she said to Mica, “first. Come with me.”

Mica glanced at Flynn, and Flynn nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Wordlessly, Mica followed Allie from the room. Flynn fought down a wave of fear that she wouldn’t see Mica again. She tried telling herself she was overreacting, but she knew better. Sometimes people walked out the door and never came back.

Chapter Seventeen

Tory sat at her desk finishing her notes. She looked up when Reese appeared in the doorway, talking on her phone.

“Hold on a second,” Reese said to whoever she had on the line and looked at Tory. “Status report?”

“I’ll fill you in when you’re done.” Tory gathered the files and moved over to the sofa in the small sitting area across from her desk. A minute later, Reese joined her.

“Problem?” Reese asked.

“No. They’re both stable and capable of speaking with you.”

“Allie said you gave her the green light. She’s going to talk to the girl first. I was on my way to talk to Flynn.” Reese crossed her ankle over her knee and leaned back, stretching out one arm along the back of the sofa until her fingertips touched Tory’s shoulder. “Something’s bothering you.”

Tory grasped Reese’s hand and threaded her fingers through Reese’s. “Are you thinking one of them might have been targeted?”

“It’s certainly possible. Going by the statistics, though, a random assault—possible robbery, even gay bashing—would be more likely.”

Tory stroked Reese’s palm, thinking about Mica. The girl hadn’t run away this time, but everything about her screamed that she wanted to. She rarely made eye contact, her answers were short and uninformative, and her manner belligerent—at least on the surface. She had an edge of anger, all right, but her attitude seemed fueled more by fear than anything else, and that bothered Tory. Her instinct was always to heal, and while she was able to tend to Mica’s body, she hadn’t been able to help her escape whatever monster was chasing her. “My ethical responsibilities are getting a little tangled here. You know, patient confidentiality.”

“This is an official police investigation,” Reese said. “We need to know what’s going on, especially if one of them is a target. This could’ve been a homicide investigation. They were lucky.”

“I know that. But I’m also their doctor, and our conversations are confidential.”

“True.” Reese’s tone was casual. She wasn’t pushing, but she wouldn’t. Not just because she was Tory’s partner, but because Reese believed in the fundamental merit of rules and regulations. She would entrust her life to the hierarchy that created order and safety out of chaos. “You’ll have to decide how much is confidential and what is essential for us to know in order to see that this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry,” Tory said. “I wish I did have something substantial to point you toward, but I don’t. I’m just really worried that the next time one of them shows up here, they’re going to be a lot more seriously injured.”

“I intend to see that doesn’t happen,” Reese said. “I appreciate your impressions. Tell me what you can, I’ll ask what more I need to know, and you answer whatever is appropriate. You’ve got good judgment. I trust you.”

“Thank you.” Tory collected her charts and sat back down. “I can give you a physical update. They were both viciously assaulted, although Flynn was the more seriously injured.” She ran through her physical findings for each patient. “On the basis of this, if one of them is a target, I think it’s Mica.”

“Why, if Flynn took the brunt of the beating?”

“From what I’ve put together from the two of them, it sounded as if the assailant was focused on Mica, and Flynn got in the way. She was…”

“Collateral damage.” Reese’s expression never changed, but she had to be thinking about the troops she had lost.

“I hate that term,” Tory said.

“So do I. What you’ve told me is very helpful. What else?”

“Mica’s ID says she’s from New York City, but when I mentioned a few places, she didn’t seem to be very familiar with any of them. Doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s not being truthful, but I suspect both her name and her address are false.”

“That jibes with what we’ve found out so far.” Reese regarded Tory steadily. “Any distinguishing marks or characteristics?”

Tory hesitated. “She has scars indicative of knife wounds—one on her lower abdomen, several on her arms, one on her back. I can’t really tell now how serious they might have been, but she’s no stranger to violence. She has a number of tattoos, most of which are actually very well done. The large one on her back says…” She looked at her notes. “La Mara. Someone’s name, I imagine. The others—”

“Wait a minute,” Reese cut in. “Two words…La Mara?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a number?”

“Huh.” Tory pictured the design in her mind. “I didn’t see it initially, but yes, the scroll after the words that I thought was decorative is actually a fairly complex and quite beautiful thirteen.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the information.” Reese stood up, her face settling into the stark lines Tory recognized as ultimate focus. Reese was now on a mission.

“This is serious, isn’t it,” Tory said, rising with her.

“It could be.” Reese brushed the backs of her fingers over Tory’s cheek. “Wait here until I can have someone take you home. I’m going to go into the office in a few minutes and make a few calls.”

“All right. I’ve got plenty to do until you have an officer who’s free.” Tory slid her arms around Reese’s waist and kissed her quickly. “Can you make it home for breakfast? Pick up the baby on the way? We might as well let her sleep the rest of the night with Kate and Jean.”

“I’ll be there.” Reese looked at her watch and frowned. “Why don’t you catch some sleep while you’re waiting for a ride? The paperwork can keep.”

Tory smiled. “Spoken like a true cop who I happen to know hates paperwork. If I get tired, I’ll nap. Be careful.”

“I will.” Reese kissed her. “I love you.”

Tory waited until the sound of Reese’s footsteps ended with the opening and closing of one of the treatment room doors. She closed her own door and stretched out on the sofa with Mica’s chart balanced on her knees. As she completed her notes, she thought of the tattoo that had meant something to Reese and that Reese had very carefully not explained.

*

Flynn was drifting, struggling to stay awake as the Percocet kicked in, when someone knocked on the treatment room door and walked in. Hoping Mica had returned, she shifted painfully onto her right side and opened her eyes. “Hi, Reese.”

Reese pulled over a stool and sat down next to the treatment table, putting them on the same level. “Doing okay?”

“Not too bad,” Flynn said. “Any word on the guy?”

“I was just talking to Bri. She and a couple of the other officers have been canvassing the neighbors and patrolling the general area. Nothing so far.”

“He either took off in a car or he’s inside somewhere.”

“More than likely, but we’ll keep looking. Can you give me a description?”

Flashes of those few minutes in the alley ran through Flynn’s mind. Mica’s shout for her to run, the torrent of blows, the helpless frustration. A wellspring of fury clouded her already cloudy mind. “Give me a second.”

“I’m sorry to have to do this now,” Reese said.

“No. It’s okay. It just happened really fast.”

“Take it one thing at a time. Let’s start with what was going on before you reached that alley. Where were you?”