How Secrets Die (20 page)

“There's something wrong at Blackburn House.” She yanked the door open and ran out, leaving it wide behind her so that the light spilled out, illuminating part of the yard. “Emily was there processing some new orders. Both the shop light and the hall light went off, and then I had a call from the shop number, but no one was there.”

“I'll check it out,” he said instantly. “Might be just a fuse. That wiring is nearly as old as the house.”

“Emily's alone.” She'd reached the path through the shrubbery and had to use the light from the cell phone to make her way through. “I'm going over. Even if it's nothing, she'll be afraid.”

She hadn't known Emily long, but she'd already heard about some of the many fears she had, and top among them was the dark.

“Don't.” Mac's tone made it an order. “Go back inside and lock the door. I'll let you know when I've checked.”

If there was anything Kate hated, it was someone giving her orders she had no intention of obeying. “I have a key to the side door. I'm going in.” She ended the call.

Luckily Emily had trusted her with the key to the side door for those days when she opened the shop, saying that the janitor couldn't be relied on to have it unlocked on time. Kate ran across the side lawn, crossed the driveway and hurried to the door.

She fumbled with the lock, imagining how Mac was fuming. He ought to know better than to bark orders at her.

The lock finally turned, and she pushed the door open. Ahead of her to the right, the cellar steps led down, and to the left, another flight led up to the first floor. Both were pitch-dark.

Kate groped for a switch beside the door. She'd seen one there, hadn't she? Her fingers touched it, and she pressed.

Nothing. Maybe Mac was right about a fuse. “Emily?” She shone what little light she had up the flight of stairs. “Are you there?”

Nothing again. She imagined Emily tripping, falling in the sudden darkness, those birdlike bones snapping. She stepped forward.

She sensed, rather than saw, movement behind her. Dodged to the side. The blow that could have hit the back of her head glanced against her shoulder instead.

Gasping and blinded by the pain, Kate reached for the wall, trying to keep from falling. Someone was there—someone who meant harm...

Hands struck her from behind. She went sprawling, reaching vainly for something to stop her fall, and tumbled down into darkness.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

M
UTTERING
UNDER
HIS
BREATH
, Mac spun the wheel, making an illegal U-turn on a deserted Main Street, and hit the siren. Chances were good it was nothing—a blown fuse or some glitch in the wiring. But with Emily alone in a dark building, it could have serious consequences.

And with Larry's assailant still on the loose, it might well be something more intentional. Either way, he wasn't taking any chances.

Why couldn't Kate be content with reporting it? He might have known she'd disregard his warning. A more stubborn woman he had yet to meet.

He spun into the driveway at Blackburn House, his heart thudding in his chest and his adrenaline pumping. If Kate had gone in the side door, chances were good she'd have left it unlocked.

He jumped out and charged to the door. Locked. Hard to believe that Kate had actually changed her mind and done what he told her and stayed away. Switching on his powerful flashlight, he peered through the window. His heart sped into overdrive. Kate's cell phone lay on the floor.

In a swift movement, Mac broke the glass with his torch, reaching through to flip the dead bolt on the door. How many times had he recommended to merchants that plate glass on doors be replaced with fortified glass? Just as well no one had listened.

He barreled in and then stopped. Stop and think. Don't run off half-cocked. He sent the beam of his flashlight up the stairs. All was quiet and still. Swiveling, he directed the beam to the cellar stairs. Its light caught a huddled figure halfway down.

Taking the steps two at a time, Mac reached her in seconds. His heart was thumping in his ears as he bent over her. “Kate.” Urgency filled his voice, and he was afraid to touch her until he knew how badly she was hurt.

Kate's head turned, hair falling away from her face, and her eyelids fluttered. “What...what...” She attempted to move, and the words ended in a moan.

Calling for EMTs, he smoothed her hair back from her face. “Easy, don't try to move.”

Of course she did, shifting her body and then gasping with pain.

“Don't you ever listen?” he murmured, running his hands over her head, looking for signs of injury. “Without moving, tell me where it hurts.”

Kate's eyes came fully open, and she squinted against the light. “My head.” She turned her face slightly so that he could see the red mark already rising into a lump on the right side of her forehead.

“EMTs will be here in a few minutes and check you out. Anything else?”

“Shoulder.” She made a small movement with her right hand toward her left shoulder, and he realized that her left arm hung limply at her side. “Don't touch it.”

“I won't,” he said, relieved that she was awake and coherent. “Will you promise me to stay still while I check on Emily?”

“Emily.” Alarm filled her voice. “I have to see...”

“You don't have to do anything. Just stay put until I get back.” He stood, then realized he'd have to leave her in the dark while he looked for the elderly woman. One man wasn't enough for this game. “I'll be as quick as I can. Help will be here soon.”

“Go.” She gestured faintly with her fingers. “I'm okay.” She leaned her head against the wall.

He sped up the stairs, hitting every light switch he came to along the way without success while he called for backup. How had Kate ended up halfway down those cellar stairs? Had she missed her way in the dark? Tripped on something?

The blackness was intense in the hallway, not even enough light seeping in to allow him to spot the bookstore if he hadn't had his torch. He swung it around as he went, but the hallway was empty and the bookstore dark.

He tried the door, calling Emily's name. It swung open, but there was no answer to his hail. It only took him a few minutes to scan the whole bookshop. No one was there. If Emily had left—but surely then the door would have been locked.

The wail of a siren sent him racing back to the side door.
Show the paramedics to Kate, make sure she was safe.
That came first.

Then he'd get some lights on and do a thorough search of the building. For Emily or for an intruder.

Kate's face turned toward him as soon as she saw the light. She was white, but her eyes were alert. “Did you find Emily?”

“No sign of her. She probably already found her way out.”

Kate frowned, moving her head slightly. “Why did she call me? Why wasn't she there when I answered?”

He clasped her hand. “I don't know, but I'll find out. All you have to do is relax and let the paramedics take care of you. Can you handle it?”

A faint smile curved her lips. “I'm not very good at that.”

“Try.” He looked up as someone came through the side door, flashlights blazing. “Down here.”

He gave Kate a lingering look before moving to give the paramedics space. “I'll come and tell you as soon as I find Emily. I promise.”

Now he'd better take his own advice and concentrate on the next task, letting the paramedics do their thing. Swinging around, he headed down the steps to the cellar. If he remembered correctly, the circuit boxes were at the bottom of the stairs.

Sure enough, it was where he thought, and a moment's examination was all it took to see what the problem was. Everything had been turned off by the simple expedient of throwing the main switch.

An accident? It could happen, but somehow he doubted it. Using the edge of the flashlight, he pushed the switch back into the on position. The stairway light came on instantly.

He stood for a moment, frowning. The box would have to be fingerprinted, of course. Who knew where it was located? And more to the point, how had they gotten in?

By the time Mac reached Kate, the paramedics were preparing her for transport.

“Didn't I tell you you have to stop giving us so much business?” Mike Callahan said.

Having heard that refrain before, Mac ignored it. “How is she?”

“Doesn't look too bad, but we'll let the doctor make that decision. He doesn't like it when we tramp on his territory.”

“Do me a favor and don't let her leave the hospital until I'm there,” Mac said.

“Stop saying
she
. I'm right here.” Kate sounded more like herself.

He bent over her, giving a hand as the two paramedics lifted the gurney up the steps. “I know. So I'll tell you the same thing. Don't leave there until I come for you. Police orders,” he added, before she could argue.

Kate was still protesting when they wheeled her out the door, but he didn't stay to listen. Mike had handled more recalcitrant patients than Kate. And he had a building to search.

Fortunately, Foster showed up before he'd gotten back to the bookshop.

“Breaking and entering?” he asked hopefully.

“I did the breaking,” Mac said. “Come into the bookshop. I need to make a call before we start searching.”

Emily's home phone number was posted beside the phone, presumably for the use of anyone helping in the shop. He dialed it on his cell phone and waited. If she wasn't there—

“Hello?” Emily answered on the third ring.

“Emily, this is Mac. Is everything all right?”

“All right?” She began to twitter. “What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be all right? What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” There was little point in telling her about Kate now. “The lights were off in Blackburn House, so I'm here checking it out. When did you leave?”

“Well, I don't exactly know. But I was home by seven thirty, because I watched my favorite quiz show. Why?”

“Did you lock up when you left?” So Emily would have been out of the building well before that call was made from the shop phone.

“Of course I did.” She was indignant. “The shop door and the side door, like always. Are you sure there's nothing wrong in the shop?”

“It's fine.” The shop was fine, but Kate wasn't. “Have a good night.” He clicked off his cell phone before she could ask anything else and stood for a moment, frowning.

Emily had left the building before seven thirty, locking everything behind her. So who had dialed Kate's phone from the bookshop? And who had been playing games with the lights?

It looked as if whatever this incident was, it had been aimed right at Kate.

* * *

T
HE
LAST
THING
Kate wanted to be doing was sitting on an exam table in a curtained cubicle, waiting for X-ray results. She wanted out. And she wanted to know what had happened to Emily. She felt helpless without her cell phone.

For the third or fourth time, she did a mental inventory of the contents of her cubicle—one bed, one side table and one digital readout, probably registering her blood pressure, which no doubt was getting higher the longer she waited for information.

If Emily had been hurt, it was her fault. She should have insisted Emily leave this evening's chores to her. But she'd been listening intently since she'd been in the cubicle, and she hadn't heard the stir that surely would have accompanied someone else coming into the small ER.

The curtain quivered. She straightened, paying the cost in a stab of pain. But it wasn't the doctor—young and ridiculously cheerful. Mac walked in on her.

Kate grabbed the sheet, pulling it up and trying to ignore another spasm of pain. “What are you doing? You can't just walk into the treatment area.”

“Professional courtesy,” he said, studying her as if memorizing her features. “The ER staff always calls me when they'd got an unruly drunk to deal with. So the doc is returning the favor. He says you'll live.”

She glared at him. “Just tell me about Emily. Is she all right?”

“Fine,” he said quickly. “She's fine, I promise. I talked to her. She had gone home much earlier.”

“But...” Kate stared at him blankly, trying to force her brain to work. “How can that be? Who called me from the bookstore, then?”

“A good question.” He started to lean against the exam table and then seemed to think the better of it, contenting himself with resting a hand on the top. “It wasn't Emily. You're sure it was the bookshop number?”

“Of course. You can check my cell phone.” She rubbed her forehead. She'd had it when she reached Blackburn House. “I don't know...”

“I have it.” He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her. “It was lying on the floor of the landing. Did you drop it when you fell?”

“When I was pushed,” she corrected.

His eyes grew very hard. “Wait. Go through it from the beginning, okay?”

Kate tried to focus. “I had noticed the light on in the bookshop earlier—before you and Kristie arrived. I called to see if Emily needed some help, but she said no. I had the impression she didn't intend to be there very long.”

Mac nodded. “Emily doesn't usually drive after dark.”

“So she told me. That's why I was surprised when I saw the bookshop light was still on after you left.” Her skin warmed at the thought of his offer to come back. “Before I could do anything about it, it went off. But then the hall light went off, as well.”

“That's normally left on all the time,” he commented.

“Right.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I think... I was going to call the shop, but before I could, my cell rang. Like I said, it was the shop number.”

Even though Mac hadn't asked to see it, Kate pulled up the call log, clearly showing the call from the shop. “See?”

“I didn't doubt you, Kate.” His smile nearly undermined her.

“Well, anyway, there was no one on the other end of the call. I was afraid for Emily, so I called you. And I headed over to Blackburn House.”

“Despite my telling you not to.”

She frowned. Was it really so hard for him to understand? “Emily could have been hurt.”

“And you couldn't sit by and do nothing.”

She wasn't sure whether that was a statement on her character or a sarcastic comment on her impatience. Maybe it was best to let it go. She felt too rocky to argue.

“Did you see anyone or hear anyone on your way over?”

Kate shook her head and gasped when the unwary movement sent a spasm of pain through her shoulder like a knife.

“Kate?” Mac clasped her hands warmly. “Is it your shoulder?”

She nodded. “They're waiting for the X-rays.”

“Let me see.” Before she could say no, he peeled back the sheet and the hospital gown, its print faded almost to invisibility by many washings. At the sight of her shoulder, he gasped audibly. “Did you hit this when you fell?”

“No.” She wasn't going to risk shaking her head again. “Someone hit me.”

Mac was so close she heard his breath hiss. He touched her shoulder briefly, a featherlight brush of the fingertips. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and his expression of concern and caring and desire nearly undid her. Her lips trembled, and she found herself focusing on his mouth, tracing the firm arc. She felt as if she were melting.

The curtain rattled on its rings as the doctor shoved it back, breaking the moment. “Well, let's see what we have here.” He slid his glasses up his nose with one finger while he stared at the clipboard in his hands. “Nothing broken, you'll be happy to hear. That's the good news.” His cheerful smile took in both of them.

“So, what's the bad news?” Mac asked the question for her.

“The bad news is that it's going to hurt like the very devil for a few days.” There was sympathy behind his brisk manner. “I'm going to insist on a sling, so you won't try to use that arm at all. And I'll be giving you pain medication—an injection first and then pills.” He hesitated. “You probably shouldn't be alone tonight. Do you have a friend who can stay with you?”