Bound by Danger (13 page)

No matter what she did, he always seemed to take care of her. “You probably wouldn’t know, but they didn’t catch the guy who crashed into me, did they?”

He sighed deeply as he shook his head. “No, I’m sorry to say he just vanished.”

Her temple tingled and she wondered for an instant if it was in response to the accident or the medication she’d been given. And then the vision of the raccoon man returned with a vengeance. His superficially white teeth glistened as he toyed with his knife. She gripped the seat, and Dave patted her hand. “Lot of pain?”

“He’s coming for me, Dave.”

“I have my handy blaster right here.” He patted his hip.

Deidre turned her head slowly this time and studied the safety fastener. “Good, you can shoot the creep.”

Then her gaze riveted to the rearview mirror. The bright lights bore down on them. It was him. She just knew it. But the truck sped on past.

She was becoming paranoid. Maybe the drugs they had given her had affected her. She rubbed her temple.

Dave slammed his brakes on. “Hold on tight!”

Looming before them, the truck sat, turned broadside in their path. At the rate they traveled, Dave couldn’t avoid it.

Deidre closed her eyes. She couldn’t look. Two accidents in one night was just too—

Bang! They rolled once, she thought, she couldn’t be sure, but when they landed they were right side up. The roof hovered low over their heads. A spider web of glass hung precariously in the window frame. The air bags had broken through the windshield just like on her car and now hung limp from the dashboard.

Airbags save lives, she remembered the emergency room doctor saying. Fewer head injuries, more broken bones, but they save lives.

“Dave.” Deidre shook his hand. He was dazed like she had been earlier. She fiddled with his holster loop. “Dave!”

The raccoon man was coming for her, and her cowboy wasn’t going to rescue her. Was it all right to shoot the man if he threatened her with a knife? With the lateness of the hour, the road was nearly clear. She could see the headlights from maybe a mile away, approaching them in the dark. But no one else would get to them in time.

Her door jerked open. It was him.

Pulling the ten-inch blade from its sheath, he grinned. Green and yellow bands colored the black and burgundy circles around his eyes. But the brazenly white teeth caught her attention.

Nothing to grin about. She aimed the gun.

For an instant, fear registered in his eyes. But only for an instant. A woman wouldn’t know how to use a gun, he was thinking.

Think again. She qualified as a sharp shooter with a .45 caliber. Piece of cake.

He lifted the blade shimmering slightly in the moonlight.

She fired a shot—once, twice, three times. She wasn’t even certain if he still stood when the third shot rang out.

***

Dave lay on the examining table while the x-ray machine zeroed in on his ribs. Now what? If his ribs were broken, he’d be taken off the case. He cursed the man who had attempted to kill them. Then he chided himself. He should have taken further precautions.

Now would the chief pack them off to a safe house? He couldn’t understand headquarters’ reluctance. Were Deidre and her brother being used as bait?

He rubbed his temple as a technician rolled him back into the examining room. Bill hurried to greet him. “Hey, Dave, how are you doing?”

“Been better. Have you checked on Deidre?”

“She’s sound asleep. Three of our men are keeping watch on the room now.”

The doctor walked into the room. “No breaks. Just some bruising.”

“And Deidre?”

“We gave her some heavier medicine. She’ll be sleeping soundly. No further injuries though.”

Dave took a ragged breath. “Thanks, Doctor.”

When the doctor left, Bill assisted Dave from the bed. “What are you going to do now?”

“Stay with her. It’s my job.”

Bill shook his head. “You’d do better getting a good night’s sleep.”

“I will. Later.”

There was no way Dave would be anywhere but Deidre’s room the rest of the night.

***

Deidre sighed deeply as fingers grasped her hand in warmth. It was six in the morning when she opened her eyes and saw her brother sitting beside the hospital bed. “Charlie.” She touched his fuzzy cheek. She tried to sit and groaned with the effort.

“Take it easy, Sis. Doctor said to just rest your back until—”

“Dave…and the man—”

“Dave’s over there.”

Deidre studied Dave sleeping in a chair wrapped in a blanket with his head snuggled into a pillow. He looked like an angel…her guardian angel, still trying to earn his wings. She took in a deep breath, much relieved he was safe.

“Was he okay after the accident?”

“Yes, just a bit dazed at first. And luckily, you hadn’t sustained any more injuries.”

Then she thought of the attempted murderer again. Her mind spun in so many directions, she had difficulty concentrating. “The man, Charlie. What happened to the man?”

“Full of bullet holes. He’s in the morgue. The police want to question you later this morning. Dave didn’t remember anything about it. Said he might have shot the man. He couldn’t remember.”

“The raccoon had a blade—”

Charlie raised his brows. “Raccoon?”

Deidre rubbed his hand. The raccoon was dead. Good. Some of the bitterness that had coiled in her stomach dissolved with the notion.

Her brother nodded. “The blade was at least ten inches. I’m sorry, Sis. No one ever said anything like this would happen.”

Deidre considered Dave further. He appeared to still be sleeping, and she whispered to Charlie, “What is this all about, Charlie?” She just had to know what they were up against.

“It wasn’t my fault. You know how I wrote two books about the martial arts and got them published?”

“Yes. I remember. We were all very proud of your accomplishment.”

“Yes, well, between the income from the books, and teaching self-defense classes, the money drizzled in. So when this fellow approached me on the Internet through my website for my books, I thought this might be the career break I was looking for.

“An agent wanted me to be one of his senior editors because I was a published author. He promised good pay for every manuscript I discovered that was publishable. I was still teaching martial arts classes and was in the middle of writing a third book, so I figured, what the hell. I’d give it a go.”

“Sounds plausible.”

“Only the guy turned out to be a shyster. Took five-and-a-half-million dollars from authors to edit their work at two-thousand dollars or more a pop. Only I didn’t know it. Here I figured everything was legit, busting my butt, editing people’s work—”

“Even a couple of romances?”

Charlie grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Some of those were the best.”

This was a side of Charlie she’d never known. Despite how sore she was, she chuckled.

“Anyway, the Feds got involved. He’s up on charges. His business was shut down. I was questioned, but realizing I had never received any money for the enterprise and that I really was editing writers’ work—”

“They let you go.” She knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. He was just naïve enough to get caught up in some kind of a scandal through no fault of his own. Now somehow she was drawn into the whole nasty business.

“Yeah. I felt like such a fool though. On the one hand, I was pretty angry he’d used me in this huge scam of his to rake in innocent writers’ money. On the other, he’d made me really mad knowing he’d conned me just like the wannabe authors.”

Deidre patted his hand. “You’re the sweetest guy I know, Charlie.” And if she could, she would make the guy pay for what he’d done to her brother.

“Except maybe for him.” Charlie motioned at the figure sleeping soundly.

“He’s not bad.” She tried to move in bed a little and groaned as the pain radiated through her shoulders. Charlie squeezed her hand, and she smiled. Clearing her throat, she grew serious. “So the man who raided my apartment…what had he to do with your past work experience?”

“Haven’t a clue, Deidre.”

“Gosh, Charlie, surely you have some idea.” She knew Charlie wasn’t hiding anything on purpose. He just didn’t have a bad-guy mindset.

“No, not really. The sham literary agent is in lots of trouble with the Internal Revenue Service, New York State Police, even the FBI wants a chunk of him. But I was totally cleared.”

“Really, you’ve got to be more careful.” He was a good person, and she wanted the best for him. She only hoped he’d settle down, have a nice family, decent job, and not get into any more trouble.

“Yeah, well the bum actually even advertised in some prominent writing books. I thought he owned a legitimate enterprise. Then I discovered the real agents don’t need to advertise.”

Deidre nodded, then winced. She was glad he’d checked into it somewhat. And she realized he wasn’t the only one duped by the lying thief. “Still, if you’ve been totally cleared, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Charlie scratched his head. “I considered it was some author who wanted his manuscript back or some such thing. Probably some guy who forgot to make a back-up copy, then found out my boss was a sham artist and wanted his work back. But I can’t imagine he’d be so desperate as to kill for it.”

“The guy I saw didn’t look like he would have written much of anything, except maybe on the art of torture or something,” Deidre said.

“No, nothing like that, that I recall. I picked them up from the post office while you boated with Dave and dropped them off at the apartment. I meant to check out the whole works. I had it in mind I’d send a note to each of the victims with maybe a suggestion or two on how to revise their work. Only problem was I was running out of money, so thought I’d stay with you and earn some dough in the real estate business. I’d worked in the field before, still had a good license, so I figured…”

Dave stirred and Deidre whispered to Charlie, “Maybe when you take me home, I can take a look at those manuscripts. Maybe there’s a clue in there somewhere.” She licked her lips. “Can you get a little water for me? I think the pain medication has made my throat dry.”

“Sure.” He rose from the chair.

She’d been so wrapped up in her own world she hadn’t even asked him how he had done on his first day at the job. “Any luck with sales?”

“First day on the job and I listed two pieces of property.”

Deidre smiled. No matter what, her brother always made her proud. “I knew you could do it. And sales?”

“Only been a day on the job.”

“Sure. Staying up with me all night isn’t going to help either.”

“I slept for a while. It’s poor old Dave who’s finally got a bit of sleep. He’s been holding the fort until now.”

“Did they ever figure out who the guy was in the morgue?”

“A hired killer.”

Dave twisted in his chair. “Deidre.”

He jumped up from the chair he was sleeping on and hurried over to the bed.

Charlie patted her hand. “I’m going to get a bit more rest before work. Dave said he’d take you home and watch over you as soon as they release you from here. Tells me he’s got a story to write and since you’re the focus of the piece, he’ll just have to stick to you.” He kissed her cheek. “See you later this evening.”

Dave sat in the chair beside her. “The police questioned me last night—asked me if I’d shot the man. I couldn’t remember. Did I?”

Chapter 10

Feeling terrible that Dave thought he had shot the raccoon man when Deidre had done so, she shook her head. “You didn’t shoot the man, Dave. You were really out of it.” She closed her eyes, picturing the killer’s perfectly white teeth, and then opened her eyes. “Is he really dead?”

“Laid out in the morgue dead.”

“What had he wanted so badly?”

“Nobody knows. They only found out he’s been hired to kill before, but they don’t know who hired him for this job. Without knowing a why, we can’t figure out what is going on.”

“We?”

“Well, I mean, the police. Of course, I’ve given it a lot of thought being an ex-military police officer. And as you said a reporter on the job likes to know the who, what, when, why, and where of a situation.”

“When can I go home?”

“The doctor’s planning to release you today. He wasn’t happy hearing you returned home in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe I was just sleepwalking.”

Dave smiled.

She could tell something was percolating in that temple of his, just what she wasn’t sure. Maybe he was considering her walking through the corridors with a gown open at the back. She hoped she hadn’t done such a thing. The problem was she rarely remembered sleepwalking. And when someone did tell her about one of her bouts, she’d never remembered a thing. Kind of spooky.

“Charlie was going to get me a drink of water.”

Dave pushed the nurse’s call button. “Water coming right up.”

“Can you see if they’ll release me sooner?”

“You know bureaucracy. They’ll get to it when they have time.”

The nurse brought in a picture of ice water and a cup. “Police just arrived.”

Deidre closed her eyes and opened them. The thought had occurred to her that she had used excessive force. Would she be charged with a crime? Couldn’t she just have wounded him…a little?

The nurse left the room and two officers poked their heads in after her. “Miss Roux? Can we have a word with you for a moment?”

“Sure.”

Dave didn’t move from his place as he held Deidre’s hand.

“Ahem,” the officer said, his blond hair a little longer than military cut, his sharp blue eyes taking in her and Dave, analyzing the situation. “So can you explain what happened exactly?”

“He tried to throw me off my balcony.”

The officer raised his blond brows.

Dave muffled a chuckle. “She means the first time she met the man.”

“Oh, well I was referring to the auto accident and subsequent shooting, Ma’am.”

“He tried to kill me. Three times, Officer. Isn’t that grounds for protecting myself?”

He smiled a little at his partner, a black-haired man with brown eyes nearly black. “All right, miss. In your own words tell me what happened.”