Page 8 of Come For Me
“Go to my desk and get my personal cell.”
Elliot nodded and ran for the door. Dain tried to force air in and out while he waited. Based on the strain in his heart and lungs, he was pretty sure he didn’t succeed worth a damn. The TV screen was showing a segment on grills. Who the hell cared about grills when his wife could be in danger? But he didn’t dare look away in case they showed more news on the standoff.
Jack slammed the phone down on its cradle with a hissed “Fuck.” No answers, then. Hopefully King—
Elliot swung through the door. “Here,” she said and tossed Dain’s cell phone across the room before her short legs could carry her to him. He snagged it out of the air and thumbed it on blindly.
“Come on, come on.” Livie had gone in to work early. She would’ve called—shit! He wasn’t thinking straight. Dain, who never lost his cool on a job, couldn’t think past the fact that his wife was in that damn building.
“She would’ve called my office phone if there was a situation, wouldn’t she?” Assuming she could call at all, but he refused to think about that. “Can you check my office voice mail?”
“Already done,” Elliot said. “No messages.”
He blessed her under his breath as his phone came online. A red circle with the number one inside sat in the upper right-hand corner of the phone icon.
One message.
He couldn’t breathe.
Forcing himself not to tighten his grip until the phone crumbled to bits in his hand, he tapped the icon, navigating his way to voice mail. Livie’s name waited at the top of the message list.
He tapped the Play button, then Speaker. Livie’s voice broke through the chaos in the room—or maybe that was just his pounding heart.
“Dain?”
He swore, the words blistering his throat with the effort to keep them quiet. He upped the volume, not about to miss a single word, a sound, anything.
The sound of her throat clearing came through, then a stronger, “Dain, there’s something wrong here. Stan’s— Stan’s dead. There’s blood.”
Livie. His wife…she was with a dead coworker. Dain choked on the emotion welling in his chest; he couldn’t stop the reaction no matter how unprofessional it was. He’d been in life-and-death situations before, but never… “Wife,” he whispered, straining to hear her next words. Would they be her last?
“I can’t find everyone else. I’m going to the kitchen. I’m in the kitchen, okay?”
“That’s good.”
It took him a moment to register Jack’s voice. He stared blindly at his boss. “What?”
“The kitchen. There will be weapons there, right?”
Right. And he’d trained Livie to recognize them.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll call your office after I call the cops, okay? I’m all right. I am…”
Livie hesitated on the recording as Dain met Elliot’s horrified gaze. “What’s the time?” Elliot asked him. When he shook his head, she nodded toward the phone. “The time on the message—what is it?”
He barely had the presence of mind to hit Pause before checking. “Nine thirty?” But that made no sense. Livie had left by seven. Why would she just be arriving at the office at nine thirty?
What time was it now? The clock on the conference room wall read 10:04. So Livie had called the police. She’d said she was going to, so surely—
Jack’s voice broke through Dain’s daze. “Play the rest.”
He stared down at the screen. Thirty seconds were left on the recording. If he played them, would Livie disappear at the end? Or would waiting mean she waited for him in real life too?
Stupid idea. Trying hard to blanket the chaos in his head with a numbness that was usually second nature on an op, Dain clicked Play.
“Dain? Listen, I need to tell you, just in case. I know I’ll be fine, but just in case…” A pause. Tell him what? He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, forcing back a scream. Tell him what? “Dain, I’m pregnant. Do you understand? I’m pregnant, husband. I’m having our baby, so you come get me, damn it. Come get us.” He heard a sigh that shook so much it told him exactly how scared she was. “I love you, Dain.”
When the message stopped, so did his heart. Pregnant?
