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As Tess approached, Mark spotted her.
He stumbled over and collapsed onto her shoulder, half gasping and half laughing.
“Thank God you’re safe.” She beamed and cried simultaneously, dropping her crutches to cradle his head with her shaking hands.
He relaxed his shoulders against hers, almost limp. “I want you by my side always.”
His warm baritone soothed her with sweet relief. She gripped him tight in an embrace she hoped would never end. “Good, because I’m not letting you go ever again.” Captivated by his sapphire eyes and the chiseled curves of his cheekbones, she was barely aware of the relieved tears streaming down her cheeks. Breathing in his sandalwood and cedar scent, she kissed him hard, and his salty stubble bristled against her chin.
The police officers who lifted Mark guided her and Mark back to the Mound, where Declan and Inspector Willis hovered near the park entrance.
Several officers clustered near David, who remained flat on a gurney.
She wanted to check on David before EMTs loaded him into the waiting ambulance. An EMT had inserted an IV to administer fluids and painkillers while assessing his injuries. To her relief, the paramedics had covered David’s wound. Bright lights shone everywhere. She leaned over him. “David, how are you doing?”
“I’m alive, which makes me one lucky bloke.” Pale and sweaty, David attempted to sound cheery, but his scratchy voice cracked.
“Very lucky, indeed.” She wanted to be encouraging but wished he’d been lucky enough not to end up maimed. “Both terrorists were killed, and you’re safe. David, I’d like you to meet Dr. Mark Nygaard.”
Mark greeted David with a smile. “Nice to meet you. I see the EMTs checked you out, but I’m a trauma surgeon and can examine your hand if you wish.”
David nodded and held up his hand. The gauze covering dropped away to reveal the ragged, bloody stump where his finger used to be. “Please. The bastards cut it off.”
Quickly, she focused on the trees beyond the clearing to avoid the gory view. She clenched her fists to brace against the stomach-churning reminder of what David had endured. The fact she nearly experienced the same maiming was not lost upon her, and she offered another prayer of gratitude to the universe.
Mark borrowed a flashlight from a police officer and examined David’s wound from all angles. “I suspect you’ve got an infection, given your high fever, but you’ll get intravenous antibiotics started tonight. Any chance you still have the finger?”
“No, lost it two days ago.”
Mark exhaled and creases lined his forehead. “I’m sorry for your injury, but the promising news is with hand therapy and a prosthetic, you’ll retain much of your hand’s function.”
“Look, I'm just grateful I survived the torture. I’m alive, and my son will still have a father. Nothing else matters.” David raised a palm toward the sky.
“Excellent attitude. You’re going to be fine.” Mark smiled and patted David’s shoulder.
“And don’t worry about Kingsley Tech. Declan and I will work with Kavita to sort out the banks, and everything will work out fine.” Despite her weariness, she wanted the business to survive, as well.
“Tess, I owe you my life several times over.” David’s voice grew wispy as the painkillers took effect. “You were right, and I should’ve heeded your warning.”
“You’re delirious. We’ll see you at the hospital.” She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
The EMTs lifted David’s gurney into the waiting ambulance and drove away.
A group of SCO19 officers appeared from the mouth of the wooded trail. Behind them, they wheeled another stretcher loaded with a black body bag, zipped shut, and strapped to the top. Yuri. She felt a flood of relief and a clear conscience, free from fear and guilt. Guardian angels take strange forms, and she credited the Raven for coaxing her away from an irrevocable act of rage.
Mark gestured toward the gurney as it wheeled past them and nudged her.
“Yuri confessed to killing Kyle, then committed suicide with cyanide. He’s gone.” Yuri might have cheated her of the vindication she envisioned, but she achieved justice, and more importantly, she got Mark back alive.
One of the officers approached Willis and handed him a small medication bottle. “We found this prescription vial on the suspect’s body.”
After nodding his thanks, Willis put on his glasses and read the label, squinting.
“Mind if I see the bottle? Might give us another clue.” Mark stepped closer to Willis.
“Please. No idea what this is.” Willis acquiesced and handed him the vial.
Tilting the bottle into the light emanating from the rotating police searchlights, Mark studied the label. “Etoposide, a common chemotherapy drug for cancer.”
