“Is it?” She stared at him with a level gaze. The door to his past that had remained closed for so long opened ever so slightly.

  Staring deep into her eyes, Joe knew Callie only saw the good in his brother. She didn’t know about the other side of Theo.

  “You expected Theo to take you in after your parents died,” she said.

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “He told me he was twenty-one and living on his own. You thought he’d step into your dad’s shoes, but Theo wasn’t ready for that type of responsibility.”

  “You believed him, didn’t you, Callie?”

  “What I think isn’t important. The real issue is what you think, Joe. Theo needs you.”

  He shook his head. “He didn’t want me when I was a kid. Why would he want me in his life now?”

  “He’s all the family you have left, except for your foster parents. Theo said they’re good people.”

  “Then that’s one thing my brother and I agree on.”

  “He had his reasons for sending you to foster care, Joe.”

  “Did he tell you he was putting my needs first?” He bristled, angry that Theo convinced Callie he had done the right thing. There was nothing right about breaking a thirteen-year-old’s heart.

  Callie had bought into Theo’s lies just as she’d bought into the lies about her own brother. Not that Joe had set her straight about Robbie. Did that make Joe the same as his brother?

  The Petrecelli boys weren’t known for the goodness in their hearts. They were known for making tough decisions. Sometimes they got it right. Sometimes they didn’t.

  He shifted his weight, trying to ease the pain that throbbed along his arm.

  Sensing his discomfort, Callie called out to Arnie. “The doc needs a couple pain pills.”

  Joe started to shake his head no, but she nudged him. “Hush,” she warned out of the corner of her mouth. “Let me handle this.”

  “I don’t want medication.”

  “Got it. But I’ve got a plan.”

  Arnie pulled his focus from the television and stretched. “What do you want?”

  “The doc’s in a lot of pain. The pills might help him sleep.”

  Arnie snorted. “As much trouble as he’s caused, might be good if he did sleep. One pill. He doesn’t deserve to feel too good.” He shook a caplet into Callie’s outstretched hand.

  “Would you mind handing me a bottle of water?” she asked.

  Why’d she have to be so polite to the gunmen?

  Arnie grabbed a bottle from the counter, and when he handed it to Callie, she looked imploringly up at him. “Arnie, would you mind cutting this tie so I can check on Rocky?”

  Arnie grunted but cut the plastic that had bound her hands, freeing Callie to open the water bottle. Climbing to her knees, she held it up to Joe’s lips. He drank deeply as Arnie returned to his chair..

  “Now pretend you’re taking the pill,” she instructed, her voice a whisper.

  Playing along, he took another large gulp of water.

  “I gave Malachi one pill earlier and pocketed the other one. It could be useful to us later.” Joe pulled a caplet from his pocket and dropped it into Callie’s hand.

  Arnie glanced back at the twosome, but she had already slipped both pills into her lab coat.

  Leaving Joe and moving to her brother’s side, Callie touched Robbie’s forehead then eased the sheet aside.

  Joe could see the wound had grown larger, killing more tissue as it ate through Robbie’s flesh.

  Her face whitened. Joe wanted to comfort her.

  She turned to catch his eye and shook her head ever so slightly. He knew from the sorrow he saw in her expression and the sense of discouragement he read from her stance that the kid’s condition had grown increasingly worse.

  Joe needed to do something, but tied up, he didn’t have many options. “Look, Arnie, I’ll make a deal with you. Let Callie drive Rocky to the nearest hospital, and I’ll stay with you as a hostage and do everything I can to get you out of the city. Without intensive IV antibiotic therapy, he won’t survive.”

  “Yeah? Tell me how you can help.”

  “I’ll drive the van. You and Sanchez hide in the back. The cops won’t expect you to move on Christmas. They’ll be understaffed with most of the guys at home, spending the holiday with their families.”

  Arnie rubbed his hand over his chin. “You’ve got a point.”

  Hopefully, the ringleader would buy into the hype. Truth was, many of the guys would have the day off, but departments throughout the greater metropolitan Atlanta area would still have adequate coverage to handle any emergency.

  Once behind the wheel and with Callie and Robbie on their way to the hospital, Joe would do whatever was necessary to stop the two thugs. He wouldn’t let Arnie and Sanchez get away.

  Having overheard the conversation, Callie started toward the main laboratory. “There’s a transport gurney in the histology department. I’ll use it to take Rocky to my car. You take the lab van. If we all leave together, you’ll be out of the city before I get to the hospital.”

  Sanchez’s eyes blinked open. “What? We’re leaving?” He raked his hand through his short hair.

  Arnie grabbed Callie’s arm, and she stopped and stared at him. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  Joe clenched his fist. The problem was Arnie. If only Joe could get the upper hand on that guy. Shoulder injury or not, he’d teach him a lesson about not touching Callie.

  Arnie loosened his hold on her arm. “Get back to the corner.”

  “Rocky will die if he doesn’t get to the hospital,” she said.

  “Let me worry about Rocky, okay?” Arnie said.

  “What about Malachi?” Joe pushed. “He needs medical care as well.”

  “Shut up.” Arnie wiped his hand over his jaw. “I need to think about what we’re going to do.”

  If only he’d accept Joe’s suggestion. Callie sighed as she dropped to the floor next to him. Her brother came first, and Joe knew she’d do whatever it took to get the medical care Robbie needed.

  Arnie looked anything but concerned about either of the injured men and quickly turned his attention back to the television show. Despite his aversion to germs, he seemed to enjoy the entertainment and even laughed out loud a few times, a sound so opposite the feelings Joe harbored.

  The night ahead would be difficult for everyone involved. Callie’s discouragement, Robbie’s wound that was eating at his flesh, Malachi’s breathing, which had grown more labored—there would be nothing merry about this Christmas Eve.

  Callie wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t. Her whole life, she’d believed good triumphed over evil, even when her sister had died. As much as she hadn’t understood what had happened or why, she knew God was a loving Father and didn’t want suffering and despair for His children.

  Resting her head on Joe’s shoulder, she thought back to that other Christmas Day. Her mother had been getting the turkey out of the oven and would soon make the thick gravy that they’d spoon over the creamy mashed potatoes.

  Her sister had been four, almost five. Rains had been heavy that December, and a morning shower had kept the children in the house. When the sun came out, Callie had asked if Becky could play in the fenced backyard.

  “Make sure the gate is locked,” had been her mother’s only request.

  From the back porch, Callie could see the gate was latched and too high for Becky’s fingers to reach. Yet, fifteen minutes later, when her mother called the little girl for dinner, the backyard had been empty.

  Callie closed her eyes, trying to block out the memory of her mother’s screams and their frantic search. The police, the flashing lights, her sister’s tiny body floating, facedown, in the nearby pond seemed too real even after all these years.

  An accident, a gut-wrenching tragedy, cut their family in two. Callie never understood how her mother could turn on her father so mercilessly. He was grieving as much as any of them. Besides, her mother made it perfectly clear who was to blame.

  “Forgive me, Lord,” Callie whispered as she’d done a million times before. But nothing, not even the Lord’s forgiveness, could absolve her of the guilt she carried.

  Callie raised her eyes to her brother’s feverish face. She’d been the reason one sibling had died. She couldn’t let Robbie die on her watch, as well.

  As if sensing her struggle, Joe nuzzled her with his cheek. “You okay, honey?”

  She nodded. Having Joe’s support made the pain of the past more bearable.

  The closing credits for the show flashed on the television screen. Arnie stood and stretched. Sanchez rubbed his hand over his face. “Anything to eat around here?”

  “There’s some leftover food from the holiday potluck we had yesterday,” she said. “I can fix a plate for everyone.”

  “Oh, Callie,” Joe groaned. “I wish you’d stop trying to be so helpful.”

  She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

  As she stood, Arnie nodded to Sanchez. “Help her out. And like I said before, if she does anything strange, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Stepping into the main lab, Callie looked back, catching Joe’s eye from where he sat on the floor. With the wound to his shoulder and the infection in Robbie’s leg getting worse, Callie had to act.

  She just hoped Sanchez wouldn’t get in the way. Shoot first and ask questions later. Arnie’s words rumbled through her mind.

  Oh, Lord, help me do the right thing.

  TEN

  Joe stood as Callie and Sanchez left the donor room. “Malachi needs another unit of blood.”

  “We’ll wait for Callie.” Arnie glared at him. “Sit.”

  Joe crumbled back to the floor. If he couldn’t do anything else, he’d pump the ringleader for information that could be used later, once the hostage situation was over.

  Joe had a sickening thought. Suppose the resolution didn’t go the way he planned?

  For an instant, he saw Callie’s body lying on the floor. His stomach roiled from the mental picture that he forced from his mind. Attitude was half the battle. He had to stay focused on success.

  “I heard someplace that the brains behind the Exterminators is a big money tycoon from Atlanta.”

  Arnie sniffed. “You always so nosy?”

  Ignoring the comment, Joe continued. “Some speculate the guy calling the shots is Martin Osborne.” Osborne was only a middleman, but Joe wanted to hear what Arnie would say.

  Joe hadn’t expected him to laugh.

  “Osborne’s a lazy fool who thinks he’s more important than he really is.”

  “What about Jiles Forest?”

  “What about him?” Arnie stiffened.

  “Some say he’s in charge.”

  The gunman pursed his lips. “Jiles would like to think he’s important.”

  “So someone else is in control?”

  Flipping the channels on the television, Arnie stopped at the local news, sending a sickening feeling through Joe’s gut. One mention of Officer Joe Petrecelli having been taken hostage and any hope Joe had of saving Callie and her brother would end.

  He had to do something to force Arnie to turn the channel. Looking down at his bound hands, he realized embracing Callie’s technique of peaceful harmony to affect change might be the best tactic.

  “There’s a Christmas special on Channel 12 based on the Nativity story,” he suggested.

  Arnie groaned. “I don’t buy into religion.”

  “Neither do I, but Callie might be interested.” Evidently she had some influence on Arnie, because he changed the channel to the children’s story.

  Callie returned, with Sanchez in tow, pushing a cart laden with serving dishes. The smell of baked turkey and all the trimmings filled the donor room. She glanced at the television and then turned a questioning gaze at Joe.

  He raised his brows and shrugged.

  “I heated the food in the microwave,” she said, filling a plate, which she handed to Arnie.

  He hesitated.

  “Everything has been in the refrigerator. Away from the germs,” she assured him.

  He took the plate and began to eat.

  Callie prepared a second serving and glanced at Joe.

  He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You have to eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Joe was beginning to realize that when Callie made up her mind, there was no changing course. He accepted the plate she offered and, in spite of his bound hands, managed to get the food in his mouth. The meal nourished his body and brought a renewed sense of hope to his faltering spirit.

  She offered food to Malachi. He didn’t eat more than a couple bites but seemed to appreciate her care and concern.

  Callie was the most selfless woman Joe had ever known. Her entire focus was on others. She was even trying to change the gunmen’s hearts through kindness. What was it about Callie that allowed her to be so hopeful and optimistic? Could it be her faith in God?

  Joe’s foster parents were believers. His foster mom told him she prayed daily for his safety. If something happened to him, he hated to think how it would affect her. His foster dad was a quiet, reserved type, but they had a good relationship. Joe wouldn’t want either of them to be hurt, especially after everything they had done for him.

  Callie wet one of the towels, wrung it dry and then wiped it over Malachi’s forehead. He took her hand and smiled. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear. He nodded as she continued to talk to him.

  Once Malachi’s eyes closed, she pulled on a pair of gloves, checked her brother’s leg and then walked into the other lab. Arnie was focused on the television and didn’t object to her leaving. She returned with a light, which she set up to shine on Robbie’s wounded calf.

  “What’s that for?” Sanchez asked as he piled a second helping of sweet potatoes onto his plate.

  “It’s a UV lamp. One of the researchers is experimenting to see how UV rays retard the growth of bacteria. If it works in the petri dish, it may work on Rocky’s leg. At least that’s my hope.”

  Once she made Robbie comfortable, Callie pulled off her gloves and washed her hands. As she returned to the corner, Joe looked up. “Fix a plate for yourself.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to keep up your strength.” He flicked his gaze to Arnie and Sanchez, both glued to the television, hoping Callie understood what he meant. The night ahead would be long. Food would sustain them both no matter what happened.

  She nodded, a look of understanding on her face. She placed a few items on her plate and came back to sit next to him again.

  “Were you successful?” he asked.

  Her lips quirked into a hesitant grin. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning the pain pills. You pocketed two of them. I noticed you didn’t put any sweet potatoes on my plate, but you gave Arnie and Sanchez double helpings. Hopefully you mixed the pain pills into their food.”

  Callie’s face broke into a smile. “The two oxycodone would probably do the trick, but I added a couple of muscle relaxers to the potatoes, as well. One of the techs has a back problem and leaves some pills in the break room. I gave Sanchez a piece of pie to keep him occupied while I grabbed them.”

  She snuggled closer.

  “Way to go, Callie. Now we have to wait until they fall asleep.”

  But Arnie and Sanchez’s eyes were wide open.

  Arnie’s phone rang. Flipping off the television, he pushed the cell to his ear.

  “Yeah?” He nodded a few times as the person on the other end spoke.

  “Okay. We’ll leave before dawn. Malachi’s in bad shape. He might not make it through the night. Sanchez wants to head south to see if he can meet up with his family.”

  Arnie nodded again. “Yeah. I’ll bring Rocky with me. What about the woman and the doc?”

  He stared at them. “Kill both of them? Yeah. When we leave the lab.”

  Callie swallowed hard and laid her plate on the floor.

  Joe fisted his hands. What could he do? He’d always been able to handle any bad situation and turn it to his advantage. After Theo had abandoned him as a child, Joe had vowed to always come out on top. But now, with Callie at his side and their fate in the hands of two gunmen, Joe knew this was one time he couldn’t change what would happen.

  With no place else to turn, he hung his head. Lord, if you can hear me, I’m asking for Your help. Save Callie. She doesn’t deserve to die. Neither does Robbie. If possible, give me an opportunity to overpower the gunmen before it’s too late.

  Callie continued to check on her two patients into the night. The growth of the wound on Robbie’s leg seemed to slow a bit, although she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps she was imagining the slight improvement.

  Malachi wasn’t faring well. Blood oozed from the wound whenever he moved. Callie started another unit of blood, but his red blood count remained low when she ran a second CBC.

  “Malachi, you need to keep fighting. Don’t give up.” She bent close to his ear. “You want to see your mama.”

  He moaned and grabbed her hand. “Don’t…don’t tell her…what…I done. I…I didn’t mean to hurt no one.”

  “Ask God to forgive you, Malachi. He loves you.”

  “I wanna get right with the Lord. Cross my heart. Say a prayer for me.”

  “We’ll pray together.” Callie held his hand, and began to pray.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said when the prayer ended. Callie leaned down once again and listened as the youngest gunman bared his soul. When he finished, she drew the blanket over his chest. He smiled feebly and mouthed “thank you.”

  Wetting a second towel, Callie sponged Robbie’s hot forehead. She took his temperature. The thermometer registered 104 degrees. Sadness wrapped around her.

  The overhead fluorescent lights glared in her eyes. Needing to focus on life rather than death, Callie lowered the switch, leaving only a small light on near the doorway.

  She plugged in the lights to the Christmas tree. The tiny colorful bulbs flickered on and off, catching Robbie’s eyes. His lips twitched ever so slightly, as if he enjoyed seeing the tree aglow.