Dying Breath. Heather Graham

      Vickie flushed, humbled. “Noah, it wasn’t just me, lots of people were involved.”

      He smiled at her. “But I knew you would come.” There was suddenly an oddly mischievous look about him. “And, of course, I know there are others involved. But Bick-bick...wow, gotta quit calling you Bick-bick.” He laughed. “I mean I’m older now. And so are you.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Not that old!” Noah said quickly.

      “Thanks again. And, well, I’m not so sure you’re so grown-up they need to throw you out on the streets with the work force,” she told him. “And you may call me anything you like. Noah, it’s so good to see you.”

      “My mom...she’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”

      “I believe so, Noah. And, hopefully, she’ll be able to tell the officers what happened, and all this will be over,” Vickie said.

      Griffin Pryce and Detective Barnes came up behind Noah, waiting patiently before heading out to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

      Noah swung around and headed to Griffin to shake his hand.

      “Thank you. Thank you. Twice now. You’re really good, I figure. You knew to bring Victoria in. Somehow, sir, I think all this must be that awful man from before,” he said.

      Vickie liked the way Griffin smiled down at Noah. He apparently had a nice soft spot for kids.

      “We’re just super grateful, Noah, that your mom is going to be okay. And the man before—we made certain—he is in prison. So. What are we going to do about you right now? I think your dad was pretty eager to go be with your mom. Do you have any other family here?”

      “No, sir. My parents were kind of old when they had me. Late-life kid, I’ve heard people say. My grandparents are dead. I think I have cousins in Baltimore. But I’ll be okay. This house has an alarm system—and I watch cop shows, even though I’m really not supposed to,” Noah said. “I know as soon as he can, my dad will come back and get me so I can see my mom.”

      “You know what, Noah? If you want, Detective Barnes and I are on our way to the hospital—we’ll take you with us,” Griffin told him.

      “Really? That would be great.”

      Barnes looked at Griffin and frowned.

      “We’ll have someone from social services sit with you until you can see her,” Griffin said.

      “I can do better than that—just let me see my parents and I’ll head to the hospital and sit with Noah,” Vickie offered. She could have called them, of course. Under the circumstances, it seemed best to actually see them and speak with them in person.

      “Miss Preston, you’ve been invaluable,” Detective Barnes said. “I’m sure that—”

      “Noah and I are old friends,” Vickie said. “It will be my pleasure.”

      “It is set then,” Jackson Crow said firmly. “I’ll see to it that Miss Preston visits her parents, and then gets to the hospital. Vickie, if you will?” he asked, indicating the door.

      Vickie smiled at the others and spun around to head out the door. The big cop was patiently waiting for them. A crowd had gathered; traffic was snarled.

      News, it seemed, traveled fast. Maybe people just gathered any time an ambulance and cop cars appeared. “Duck your head—we’ll keep your involvement out of the press,” Jackson Crow told her.

      She ducked her head.

      The cop drove; Vickie was next to him, aware of Jackson Crow behind her.

      The cop stayed with the car, Jackson politely thanking him.

      Up in her parents’ apartment, Vickie was nearly crushed to death by her mom and dad. She told them happily that Mrs. Ballantine was going to be fine, they were fairly certain. She would spend at least one night in the hospital.

      “We should really visit when we can, Phil,” her mother told her father. “It is sad—we were close with George and Chrissy for so long. And then the thing happened with that maniac Bertram Aldridge. We just... I guess we just drifted apart lately. Anytime we saw one another... I guess all we could think about was that our children might have...died.”

      “Of course we’ll visit!” Phil said. He still had an arm around Vickie’s shoulders. He stared at Jackson as if daring the man to take her away from him.

      “Actually, Dad, I’m going to the hospital now. I’m going to stay with Noah Ballantine,” Vickie told them.

      “No,” her mother said. “No, no, Vickie.”

      “Mom, it will be okay,” she said firmly. “Noah is nine and he doesn’t have any family here and he might wind up hanging with child services.”

      “Which isn’t terrible!” her dad said.

      “Which isn’t happening,” she said firmly. “I came right here so we could tell you what happened and so you could see I was okay. Hey, you know how to work the Skype on your phones. I’ll keep in touch—visually!—okay? I know you’re scared, too. But we’re talking about a little boy who has to be in some real trauma right now.”

      She kissed her dad’s cheek and then her mom’s.

      Her dad stared at Jackson Crow. “Don’t you let anything happen to her!”

      “Sir, we will not,” Crow promised.

      “This is all too much. Vickie isn’t a cop or an agent or—”

      “Dad, I’m just going to hang with Noah. It will be fine,” Vickie said, determined. “Love you both. We have a cop double-parked downstairs. We have to go.”

      Her parents kissed her again. She glanced at Jackson Crow, flushing slightly. She was surprised at how overprotective her folks were behaving.

      “I’ll be in touch,” she promised.

      They managed to escape to the hallway. In the elevator, she looked over at Jackson. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’ve been away from home a long time. I’ve just moved back and...”

      “Never be sorry that you have people who love you so much,” he told her, indicating that the elevator door had opened.

      She smiled uneasily and headed out.

      They didn’t speak in the cop car; Jackson Crow received a call. When they reached the hospital, Jackson knew just which way to go after receiving clearance from the hospital’s security. Chrissy was already out of the emergency room and on a floor above.

      There was a waiting room; Griffin Pryce was there with Noah Ballantine. He rose when they arrived, nodding at them all. “Jackson, I’ll head back in. Chrissy has been in and out of consciousness. Detective Barnes is there. We haven’t pressed her yet.”

      “Great. Noah, how are you doing?” Jackson asked.

      “I’m fine, sir. Griffin talked to the doctors—my mom is really going to be okay. Whoever did this to her gave her a really good conk on the head. They want her to stay here tonight and probably tomorrow night. But she’s going to be okay.”

      Griffin looked at Vickie. She had no idea what he was thinking; he seemed to have acquired the ability to look as stoic as Jackson Crow. Maybe it was FBI training, not to give anything away.

      “So, Noah, here we are,” Vickie said. “I’m so glad—so grateful about your mom.”

      “Bick-bick,” he said, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re with me.”

      “Okay, we have some time to kill,” she said. “Tell me what’s up with you.”

      They sat in the waiting room. Jackson Crow took up a position by the door. Griffin went out.

      Noah