Mad About You (21 page)

The paramedics arrived and shuffled her onto a stretcher, then rolled her into an ambulance. She wasn't sure if James had accompanied her until she felt his hand on her socked foot. Where were her shoes?

Then they were moving and she could make out the lower pitch of the siren through the shrill hum drilling through her head. A blue-coated paramedic leaned over her and said something once, then twice, but she didn't understand him. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, sounds around her began to filter in—the bass of the ambulance engine, the muted voices of James and the paramedic talking. She grunted to see if she could hear herself, a noise that brought James and the paramedic back to her side.

"James?" she yelled—at least it sounded like a yell, except hollow and echoing. His lips moved, then his face blurred as darkness crept over her, and he slipped away.

*****

Tenner's face was grim as he walked into the deserted waiting area where James stood fidgeting, pacing—anything to keep from screaming in frustration.

"It was a pipe bomb in the van, wasn't it?" James asked from across the room.

The detective nodded and expelled a noisy breath, dragging his hand through his sparse hair. "How's Ms. McKray?"

"Lots of cuts and bruises and a mild concussion, but the doctors say she'll be fine." James massaged his neck, then rolled his shoulder. "A few steps closer to the van and she would’ve been—" He stopped, unable to say the word.

"How about you?" Tenner asked. "Looks like you got nicked yourself."

James touched the bandage at his temple and scoffed. "It's just a scratch—I let them dress it to be near Kat."

"What the devil happened?"

The fury and helplessness he'd managed to hold at bay ballooned in his chest, threatening to break him apart. "Bloody hell, man, she was almost killed right in front of me, that's what happened!" Then he turned and slammed his hand into the wall and leaned against it as the blessed, comforting pain subsided.

He heard the detective walk closer, then the creak of a chair being filled with a big body. "Won't do her no good if you go bustin' yourself up, son."

James closed his eyes, then sighed and slowly turned around, massaging his knuckles. "I did that for myself, not for Kat."

"I need to file a report," Tenner said gruffly.

Lowering himself into a vinyl seat across from Tenner, James nodded.

"A woman called a local newspaper and claimed responsibility for the bomb."

Astonishment washed over him. "What?"

"The guy said she sounded Asian—maybe Chinese. Some rambling message about abortion clinics—there's been a rash of small bombings
lately...
no fatalities, though."

James frowned in confusion. "This was some kind of random political statement?"

Tenner frowned. "In my opinion, no. I'd say someone wanted to kill Ms. McKray and made the phone call to throw us off, or some nut took it upon herself to claim the bombing. Now, tell me what happened."

James took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and repeated every detail he could recall from the time Tenner had left them alone in the gallery to the time of the explosion.

"Did you see anyone hanging around the parking lot?"

"No."

"How about anyone pulling away in a vehicle when you came outside?"

"No."

Tenner grunted. "You're both damned lucky, if you ask me."

"How could someone plant a bomb in her van—wasn't it searched when they towed it in?"

"Yep, clean as a whistle."

"How about before it was towed back?"

"Can't be sure, but anyone who would sneak into a police impound lot and plant a pipe bomb has got gonads the size of my bowling ball."

"So the bomb was planted after the van was returned to the gallery?"

"That'd be my guess."

"Has the area been sealed and everyone questioned?"

Tenner nodded. "Yep, but now the case has been handed over to the bomb squad, and the FBI will probably step in. My squad car, along with every other car on the lot, was confiscated for evidence. That security guard Carl Jays had come by to pick up his paycheck—his Lexus was carrying a high-priced cargo."

"Drugs?"

"Yep. Did all his dealing at night—working midnight shifts at art galleries was the perfect cover."

"So he didn’t have anything to do with the break-in?"

"Looks that way."

"So we’re down one suspect."

Tenner exhaled, puffing out his cheeks. "I'm just glad this isn't a murder investigation. When I heard that boom, I nearly pissed my pants."

James lifted his head and smiled, appreciating the man's attempt to lighten the mood for a moment before he turned serious again. "Why would someone want to kill her, Tenner? The charges have been dropped, so the police were already looking elsewhere for a suspect. What could possibly be gained from getting rid of her?"

The detective sighed and scratched his belly. "That's a good question."

Watching him squirm, James knew the man was holding back a theory. His heart skipped. "What is it, Tenner? Is she involved in this somehow—have I missed something because I'm...because I'm too close?"

Frowning, Tenner grimaced. "I don't know, Donovan, but there's only one reason to get rid of her—she knows something she hasn't told."

James pursed his lips, his mind racing. "Or she knows something she doesn't realize is important."

"Right," Tenner said, leaning forward. "And it's our job to find out what it is."

"Mr. Donovan?" a nurse asked as she walked in with a chart.

He jumped to his feet. "Yes?"

"Ms. McKray is ready to go. Will you sign her out and be responsible for her?"

To James, the question touched something deep inside him. The idea of not being responsible for Katherine was unthinkable, and a revelation that would have to wait for closer scrutiny. "I will," he said, reaching for the papers.

*****

"I can walk," Kat protested when James swung her into his arms.

"I know, but it gives me an excuse to put my hands on you," he whispered close to her ear.

She smiled, secretly glad to be carried into her apartment. Her face and arms felt tight from many tiny cuts, and she was still a little light-headed. Tenner had driven them to her apartment in his newly acquired squad car, and brought up the rear carrying James's suitcase and the figurine boxes.

"Are you staying?" she asked, her eyebrows lifted.

His nod brooked no argument. "And Officer Raines was so shaken up, I believe he's going to keep an eye on things outside."

As he set her down on the couch, Kat looked around and frowned. "It was a mess in here before, but something is different." She caught James's and Tenner's exchanged glances. "What?" She reached up to poke James in the shoulder. "Tell me."

He lowered himself to sit next to her on the sofa. "The police swept your place before we brought you home."

She felt the blood drain from her face. "You mean for another bomb?"

He nodded, his face drawn.

Fear and frustration clogged her throat. "Why is this happening to me?"

"That's what we intend to find out," Tenner said, moving a straight-back chair closer to the couch. "Let's say for the time being this wasn't a political statement and assume it had something to do with the gallery break-in. Agent Donovan and I think whoever is after you thinks you know something incriminating."

She frowned. "But if I did, I would've already reported it."

"Would you?" James asked with a pointed look.

"Of course."

"What about Guy Trent's attempt to extort you? You didn't report that."

Kat looked quickly at Tenner, and James said, "I filled him in."

Frowning, she said, "That's different—I didn't have to pay back the money. I had a choice, but I agreed to it anyway. Technically, that's not really extortion, is it?"

Tenner pressed his lips together then said, "Technically, no. Companies often offer employees a payback schedule to avoid prosecution for theft—the publicity really isn't good for them or the employee, so everyone is happy."

"Think, Kat," James said, taking her hand. His touch never failed to set her heart aflutter, even when the mood was so serious. "Are you absolutely sure you don't know anything that would be damaging to someone at the gallery? Something no one else would know?"

Her mind raced backward and forward, trying to seize some minute detail that had escaped her in its simplicity, but she shook her head. "I can’t think of a thing."

Tenner folded a stick of gum into his mouth. "Maybe walk in a room on the tail end of a conversation, or pick up a phone and overhear something?"

"No, not that I can remember." She touched a hand to the base of her skull where it had started to pound.

"Maybe we better wait until tomorrow to finish this," James said, nodding to Tenner, who stood and hitched up his pants.

"Okay, I'll see you all in the morning. Try to get some rest, Ms. McKray."

James closed the door and turned the deadbolts, then walked back to the couch. "Want to lie down?"

She nodded, then slid down and drew up her legs, leaving room for him to sit on the end. He did, but he pulled her feet into his lap, straightening her legs into a more comfortable position.

"I should thank you," she said, glancing at him through her lashes. "Lately every time I look up, there you are."

He smiled and laid his head back, massaging her feet. "It's my job."

Disappointment rose in her chest. Still the dutiful agent. "Shouldn't you be on your way to the airport?"

He rolled his head toward her. "New York will still be there."

"And where is Lady Mercer?" Kat acquired a mock accent and lifted her nose in the air.

James grunted and expelled a short breath. "I believe she checked into the Flagiron." He grinned and leaned toward her. "Careful, Pussy-Kat, if I didn't know better, I might think you were jealous."

"I'm still delirious from the blast."

His thumbs were working magic on her insteps. "Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous of where Tania is concerned."

"She's very beautiful."

"Yes."

"And slender."

"Yes."

"And rich."

"Three for three," he said with a smile.

"Nice?"

He squinted. "It depends, but today, no."

"So," she said, studying her cuticles. "Do you two have an understanding?"

"If you mean that Tania and I understand there is nothing between us, then yes."

"But you were lovers."

He dropped his gaze, but nodded, still rubbing her feet.

Well, it was certainly hard to blame the woman for staking her claim, Kat acknowledged with a little barb of remorse. After all, he had slept in Tania's bed long before he'd slept in hers.

"I didn't ask, Kat," he said softly, "but I assumed you weren't a virgin either."

She smiled wryly. "No."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Good, because if I had despoiled you, I would have felt a gentlemanly obligation to marry you."

Her heart cartwheeled over the mere mention of the word, but she kept an innocent, light smile on her face. "Horror of horrors."

His gaze was steady, but unreadable. "I'm glad we see eye to eye on some things, Pussy-Kat." Giving her feet a final pat, he slid out from under them and said, "I'll get your bed ready and come back for you."

"No, I'll walk," Kat insisted, swinging her feet to the floor, and standing up slowly. He took her arm and they headed into her room, then Kat diverted to the bathroom. She frowned at the abrasions on her face and arms, but thanked her guardian angel for the hundredth time for keeping her and James safe.

The thought of their most recent conversation resurrected the hurt in her chest. James couldn't have made it more clear that if he had intentions of settling down, it wouldn't be soon, and it wouldn't be with her. Yet she had to admire his honesty in this age of cat-and-mouse games. And ironically, if anything, it made her feelings toward him even stronger. She gingerly pulled a nightgown over her head, then shuffled back into the bedroom.

She hadn't realized how sleepy she was until she felt the mattress at her back. James extinguished all the lights but a small lamp, then removed his shirt and shoulder holster. He checked his gun and laid it on the night stand, then piled extra pillows next to her and sat against the headboard on top of the covers, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Kat closed her eyes and tried to forget about the man next to her. She dozed fitfully, then awakened around two o'clock, her mind working feverishly. She was on the verge of remembering something, she could feel it.

She focused on James's deep, even breathing, the rise and fall of his chest in the dim lamplight, hoping her subconscious would take over. Suddenly, a thought struck and she reached over to shake James's shoulder before it escaped her. He jerked awake, his eyes wide, his hand automatically going to his gun on the nightstand.

"What? Are you all right?"

"Don't shoot," she said, only half joking. "I just thought of something."

He sagged against the headboard in relief, then leaned forward to stretch his lower back. "What?"

"James, what if the something someone is worried about isn’t something I've
already
seen or heard, but something I would have encountered in the near future?"

He frowned, then launched a full-body stretch, punctuated with a shuddering yawn. "You mean like something at the open house?"

"Possibly. Maybe someone I would have met?"

He nodded. "Someone who might discuss something with you, either purposefully or in innocence."

She shrugged. "Too far-fetched?"

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he shook his head. "Maybe not. Is anything else going on right now, something internal to the gallery?"

"Well, there's the IRS audit, but Guy approves all expenditures, so no one would have a reason to do something behind my back, like forge my signature."