Page 77 of Eden

Lachlan wasn’t too late this time.

He rushed toward her as she dropped her weapon. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking her up and down. Her hands were covered in blood but, upon inspection, he didn’t think it was hers. His eyes traveled to her waist, and his breath stuck in his throat.

He lifted the edge of her bloody shirt, and exhaled the breath he’d been holding when he saw it was a flesh wound, the bullet just grazing her side. He put a hand on her waist nonetheless—it was still a bullet wound and it was bleeding.

“Medic! She needs a medic!” he yelled as an officer appeared beside him.

“I’m okay,” Bethenny said. “Take care of Louise first,” she instructed, and then her eyes dropped to Jim. “He can wait,” she said. The corners of Lachlan’s lips almost turned up, except there was nothing amusing about this situation.

Jim’s eyes were shut and he was bleeding on the floor, but his chest was rising and falling in shallow breaths. Looking at the gunshot wounds to his shoulder, Lachlan doubted he’d ever use it again. He thought Bethenny had shattered every bone in that shoulder joint, and given it was his right shoulder, it was likely the arm he’d used to kill Eden.

His blood boiled as he thought over those emails again. It all made sense and it had been in front of him the entire time, but he’d been too lost in grief to see it. How he wished he’d seen it then—he could’ve saved himself years of mental torture and self-punishment. But as he looked at Bethenny, he wondered if in fact he was exactly where he was meant to be. That didn’t mean he was glad his life had played out how it had, he certainly wished Eden was alive today, but out of all that life had dealt him, this was a life he could live happily.

He felt his heart release a little and he whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”

A second team of medics rushed in, attending to Bethenny and then Jim. Lachlan took a step back, getting out of their way.

It took him a moment to realize Mitch had come to stand beside him. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

Lachlan nodded. “I had to make sure she was okay. You can punish me however you want. It was still worth it.”

Mitch looked at him long and hard. He pressed his lips together and his chest expanded and shrunk again as he puffed out a breath. “You’re coming to the station until I can work out what to do with you,” Mitch said.

Lachlan nodded. He wouldn’t give Mitch any more trouble today.

Louise White rolled past him on a gurney as a second one was brought in and Jim was lifted onto it. Lachlan was about to offer to dig a grave for him in the backyard, but he didn’t think Bethenny or Mitch would appreciate that.

Jim’s eyelids fluttered as he was rolled onto the gurney, otherwise he was unresponsive. He would be awake soon though, and then they would talk.

Lachlan looked at the pools of blood on the floor. He wanted to clean it before Bethenny came back here. He knew how hard it was to come home to stale blood—the metallic smell had a way of seeping into everything.

“I need to speak to him,” Lachlan said as Jim was rolled past him.

Mitch nodded understandingly. He took one last look around then nodded toward the door. Lachlan followed Bethenny out.

LACHLAN

Lachlan rode with Mitch to the hospital and he was grateful for the constant stream of updates through the radio.

“Detective Monroe requires stitches. Jim O’Connor and Louise White have been taken to the operating room. Louise’s condition is critical; O’Connor is stable, although we suspect he’ll have very limited use of that arm even after surgery.”

Good, Lachlan thought, glad he’d been right.

“Thanks,” Mitch said as he turned left.

They were one block from the hospital and Lachlan resisted the urge to tell Mitch to drive faster, because he was driving like he was out for a leisurely Sunday drive. Not that it mattered, because it would be hours before they could talk to Jim. He would need to recover from surgery and be alert for questioning.

“We won’t interview him until tomorrow. Are you sure you want to be involved?” Mitch asked, stealing a sideways glance.

“Yes. He killed her; I know he did. And he’ll admit it to me,” he said, sure he could antagonize Jim enough to get the truth from him.

“You will treat him like you would anyone else we charge and bring in. If you go beating him up, it’s only going to give him a weapon to use in court. Keep your fists to yourself,” Mitch said, his usual measured self.

Lachlan wondered if Mitch had ever been riled up in his life. Even at Bethenny’s, he was the picture of calm. Measured. Lachlan stole a glance at him. People like him sometimes cracked, and when they did... it wasn’t pretty. But for the moment, Mitch seemed to have a lid on things.

When Mitch parked out front, Lachlan said a silent prayer of thanks that they’d made it before Christmas.

He climbed out of the car, eager to get to Bethenny.

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