Midnight Exposure (21 page)

“The chief.” Reed coughed and pointed into the smoke. Flames leaped from the doorway below.

Hugh’s office was an inferno.

A full block down on Main Street, Jayne turned the truck around and parked so she had a clear view of the municipal building. A fire engine roared past, sirens wailing. Down the street, people gathered across from the burning building. Firemen leaped from two engines and got to work with practiced efficiency amid the chaos.

Jayne gnawed on her lip. Several volunteer vehicles flew down Main. Single blue lights flashed from their car roofs. Emergency personnel milled about.

Jayne searched the crowd but couldn’t see Reed’s tall form anywhere.

Emergency workers sped up with a flurry of renewed urgency. Something was happening. Her heart stuttered. She locked her gaze on the front of the municipal building. No Reed. The firemen were pushing people away from the building, their movements insistent. Jayne cracked the window and strained to hear.

A muffled explosion split the air and rattled the windows of the Yukon. Glass shattered somewhere. The scent of smoke drifted to her nostrils on the frigid air. Up the street smoke poured from the front of the old building.

Jayne’s chest tightened as she jumped from the truck. She moved toward the fire, eyes trained on the disaster scene.

Her upper body jerked backward. She gasped as an arm hooked around her neck and dragged her back into the narrow alley between two stores.

Her brain shut down in disbelief for a few seconds before her training overrode the panic.

Jayne tucked her chin to protect her airway. The soles of her boots dragged on the sidewalk as she dropped her weight, making her body heavier, harder to pull. She slammed her head back-ward.
Her assailant grunted as Jayne’s skull connected with his jaw.

But the arm around her neck tightened.

“Do what I say or I’ll hurt you.” The whisper was deep, male, and angry, with an edge of desperation.

Jayne grasped his wrist and elbow, pinning his forearm to her chest. She turned her chin to the crook of his elbow for breathing room. Releasing her left grip, she drilled her elbow straight back into his solar plexus and dropped a hammer fist into his groin.

He doubled over and coughed. “Bitch.”

In her peripheral vision, Jayne caught a flash of blue eyes through the opening of a ski mask. Then she shot her elbow up under his chin.

The pressure around her neck disappeared. Jayne fell forward onto all fours and clutched her throat. Her knees burned on the concrete. Footsteps retreated. She crawled forward out of the alley and gulped cool air in greedy swallows. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that her assailant had taken off. The alley behind her was empty.

Jayne’s heart sprinted as she climbed to her feet. The alley had been shoveled. No footprints. She hesitated. Should she try to follow him?

External noise gradually replaced the sound of her own labored breathing. Sirens. People yelling.

“Call for medevac!”

Jayne whirled.

Reed
.
Fire.

Her belly clenched as she stumbled up the block. Smoke poured from the municipal building. Firemen doused the buildings on both sides. The double doors were propped open. Hoses snaked inside the smoky hole of a doorway.

Jayne searched for Reed among the milling professionals. He was tall. She should be able to see him. If he was standing.

A great shudder passed over the old clapboard building. Jayne turned. Smoke billowed from the roof, windows, and doors.

Through the thick, black cloud, a fireman jogged from the door. He carried a body draped over his shoulder. The legs were denim-clad. The jacket was dark. Jayne’s heart stopped.

Reed!

Jayne stumbled forward.

“Give Doc room.” The crowd parted. A tall, lanky man pushed through, black bag in hand. A white lab coat flapped around his legs under the hem of an unbuttoned wool jacket. Kneeling men blocked Jayne’s view of the body in the street. She stood on her toes but still couldn’t see the victim. Trying to get closer, she pushed ineffectually at a row of broad shoulders.

Adrenaline and fear skittered through her veins and a sick feeling gathered in her stomach.

“What’s the ETA on that medevac helicopter?” a soot-streaked fireman shouted back from the inner circle.

A short, stocky man in a tan uniform and dark brown policeissue jacket put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “He’s gone, Lou. Sorry.”

Silence spread through the men in a devastated wave. Heads hung. Bodies deflated.

“You a doctor, Doug?” The doctor shot the uniform a nasty look.

The uniform shrugged. “It’s obvious.”

Jayne’s chest contracted, squeezing every ounce of air from her lungs. Her throat closed on a choking moan. Smoke burned her eyes. Her knees nearly gave out as she turned away, stumbling.

“Jayne!” Her name cut off on a hacking cough.

Her head swiveled, and her heart stopped.

Reed sat on the back of a fire truck, his green eyes bloodshot over the oxygen mask. Soot coated his face and clothes. Like the dead man, he also wore jeans, boots, and a dark coat. But as Jayne glanced around, she realized that so did three-quarters of the male population not in firefighting gear.

Reed was alive.

It took a few seconds for that fact to sink into her stunned brain.

She rushed forward. Relief bubbled from her throat with a sob. He dropped the oxygen mask to his lap and caught her in his arms. His shoulders were solid and real under her grip as she lifted her face. All thoughts of protecting her heart and Reed’s inhibitions fled as their mouths met. His lips tasted of smoke and sweat and sadness. The kiss was fierce, raw with need. His tongue swept in, hot and demanding, as he claimed her mouth.

She welcomed his invasion, tilting her head back in surrender as his control broke.

He lifted his head. His eyes searched hers, bewilderment and passion both naked in his gaze, before the moment was broken by a cough.

Still numb with disbelief at Reed’s survival, Jayne pressed her face into his throat. His broad chest spasmed. She breathed him in and mumbled into his skin, “I thought you were dead.”

He shook his head and swallowed. A shudder passed through him, then a sigh as he lowered his head. He breathed in her ear, “Hugh.”

Guilt cut into Jayne’s relief. “Oh. I’m sorry.” The police chief had seemed like a nice man, but she couldn’t shake her joy that Reed was alive.

Jayne pulled back and studied his face. His red-rimmed eyes looked moist. He blinked hard.

She dropped her head to his chest to revel in the beat of his heart against her face. When she lifted her head, his sooty shirt was wet. She swiped a hand across her cheeks. Her fingers came away streaked with black.

Reed’s gaze dropped to her legs. His jaw clenched. “What happened?”

Jayne looked down. Scott’s borrowed jeans were torn and her knees bloody through the rips in the denim. “Someone grabbed me.”

The vein on Reed’s temple jumped, matching the intensity in his eyes.

“Reed.” The doctor approached, gray hair disheveled, glasses askew, grief etched in the deep lines of a weathered and ruddy face. He scanned Reed from head to foot. “My office. Now.”

They stood, and Reed swayed.

The doctor grabbed his arm and draped it over his shoulders. “Can you make it down the block?”

“I could get the truck.” Jayne backed away.

“I can make it.” Reed grabbed her hand and wheezed, “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Jayne huddled in an uncomfortable chair against the wall, watching the doctor examine Reed. From her position she could see the waiting room and the curtained-off triage area.

The exterior door opened and a uniformed man strutted through the waiting room. A shiver rippled up Jayne’s spine as the cold outside air invaded the clinic. From the examination table,
a shirtless Reed squinted at the cop over his oxygen mask. Reed’s eyes went flat.

Jayne ripped her gaze off Reed’s lean, hard torso and focused on the cop. It was the same officer who’d announced the chief’s death so abruptly in the street. Black hair, blue eyes, average height, thick-bodied, overflowing with attitude.

A jerk, but a jerk she had to deal with now that Hugh was gone. Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed the lump.

This guy didn’t give off any kind or concerned vibes. Belligerence pumped from every pore. But since talking to him was unavoidable, she might as well get this done. She rose to her feet and held out a hand. “I’m Jayne Sullivan.”

Standing eye to eye with Jayne, the cop frowned at her. He ignored her hand and fished a notebook and pen from his pocket. “Have a seat, Miss Sullivan. I’m Acting Chief Doug Lang. I’m here to take your statement.”

Reed pulled the mask from his face. It dangled around his neck by the elastic straps. “Acting Chief? Give me a break, Doug. Can’t her statement wait until Doc checks her out?”

“I don’t have all day, Reed. In case you haven’t noticed, the police station burned down, and the chief was killed.” He yanked down his jacket zipper. The fabric parted around a flat abdomen clearly displayed in a uniform shirt one size too small. “I’ll need a statement from you too.”

“No shit, Doug.” Reed coughed. “
I’m
the one covered in soot. I didn’t see you in there. Were you out directing traffic?”

Doug flushed. Piggish eyes turned small and mean in a face that was just a little too fleshy for Jayne’s comfort. He yanked off his coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair. His forearms were thick and corded, with basketball-sized biceps pumped up enough to make face-washing a challenge.

OK. So Reed and Doug had issues, and Reed was on an emotional edge. But couldn’t Reed wait until after she’d given the cop her statement to tick him off?

Doc returned from the back room with a tray of first-aid supplies. He barely spared the cop a glance as he replaced the mask on Reed’s face. “Do you really have to do this now, Doug?”

The cop went rigid. His face pinched. “Yes, I do.”

Jayne nodded and shrank a little in her skin. Her abraded knees throbbed in rhythm with the pain that spiked though her temple. “Let’s just get it over with. What do you want to hear about first?”

The cop glanced toward a closed door. “I’d prefer to do this in private.”

Reed pulled the mask two inches from his face. “No way.” He coughed. “She’s not leaving my sight.”

Jayne’s throat tightened. Did Reed suspect the cop of being her abductor? Doug had blue eyes. He was a little short, but she could be wrong with her height estimate. Her recall wasn’t 100 percent on either attack. Jayne’s heart quickened. Could it be Doug? Could the man who had kidnapped her really be standing just a few feet away and she didn’t recognize him? A wave of nausea rolled through her as the cop paced toward her.

What had Doug been doing during the fire?

Crimson crept up the cop’s throat. A vein bulged. “You have nothing to say about it.”

“But I do.” Doc set the tray on a wheeled cart and began to clean a small burn on Reed’s jaw. “She’s my patient. You don’t get to ask her questions unless I say it’s OK. So if you want to talk to her, stop being an ass.” The doctor applied a whitish cream to the angry mark and covered it with a bandage.

The cop huffed but didn’t ignore the doctor’s threat. He faced Jayne. “OK. Start at the beginning. You came into town on Thursday.”

Jayne shifted in the hard plastic chair. She pulled the borrowed parka tighter around her shoulders and gave him the CliffsNotes version of the last three days. Had it only been four days since she’d arrived in Huntsville? It felt more like four weeks.

Doug leveled a skeptical look at Jayne. “Let me get this straight. Somebody abducted you and chained you up in a basement. You fought with this man and escaped. Then Reed found you on Route 27. He took you home and kept you there until the roads were cleared this morning. When you arrived in town to meet former Chief Bailey, the municipal building was on fire.
Then
you were attacked again?”

Jayne nodded.

“Do you think it was the same man?”