Protecting the Pregnant Witness (12 page)

But she could believe in his actions, right? She could trust that this good man, who’d been so damaged by life, meant everything he
was
willing to say. For now, if he held her close, if he stood by her and the baby when she was most afraid, it would have to be enough for her lonesome heart.

Chapter Nine

Rafe had never seen Spencer Montgomery in anything other than a suit and tie. Still, at 12:30 a.m., dressed in a dark green polo shirt and jeans, he managed to look clean-shaven, coldhearted, and too arrogant for Rafe’s liking as he closed his notebook and tucked it into his back pocket. “You’re certain it was Donny Kemp?”

“Who else would threaten me?” Josie threw up her hands, then quickly clutched them back in her lap. “I don’t have any enemies.”

“You’re telling me Josie’s involved with a serial killer?” Robbie Nichols circled his office, interrupting the conversation between his niece and the detective who were sitting at his desk.

“Uncle Robbie, please,” Josie chided, urging him to stop his pacing. Rafe read the plea in her eyes before turning back to the red-haired detective. “I’m sorry. Is there anything else?”

Rafe stopped Robbie with a look and straightened from the counter where he’d been watching Montgomery’s every interaction with Josie. She looked exhausted. Despite her determination to answer every question, clarifying the few details KCPD had on Donny Kemp and his reincarnation as the Rich Girl Killer, the shadows darkening beneath her eyes worried him. The book he’d been reading said pregnant women needed extra sleep, and he knew from the tossing and sighing he’d heard from his side of the bedroom door that Josie had been getting even less than usual lately.

“There was no distortion to the voice you spoke with on the phone?” Montgomery asked.

Rafe moved at the weary sigh that collapsed Josie’s posture. “She’s already answered that.” He crossed Robbie’s office to stand beside her chair and rest a supportive hand on her shoulder. “She should be able to identify the RGK by his vocal patterns as well as his new face. What are you going to do to stop the harassing phone calls?”

Robbie came to the desk, completing a triangle surrounding Josie. “I’ll tell you what he should do.”

“Sir…” Montgomery stood.

“Robbie,” Rafe warned.

“No. Now I’ll not have any harm comin’ to her here.” The older man shook his meaty fist. “I’ll be handin’ out a little Irish justice if that bastard shows his face at my bar.”

Josie pushed to her feet. “Uncle Robbie, enough. I got involved with this to try to keep anyone else from getting hurt. It was just a phone call.”

“It was a phone call that turned you white as a ghost and got these fine fellas with their guns and badges all stirred up.” He turned his bruised blue eyes to Rafe. “My brother would be rollin’ over in his grave if he knew the mess his little girl had gotten herself into.”

The accusation was clear, although whether he was referring to the murder or the baby or both wasn’t. Rafe didn’t back down, however. He was guilty as charged—and determined to make good on the debt he owed this family. “I’ll die before he gets his hands on her, I promise.”

“Rafe, don’t say things like that.” Josie’s fingers brushed against his forearm.

His skin leaped in response to her touch and he pulled away, needing to retain control of the situation, the room—of every needy impulse—if he intended to do this job right. “You want me to say what I mean.”

He had to turn away from the pain in those beautiful blue eyes.

Robbie raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the unruly mop in a mess. “She shouldn’t have to deal with this—on top of my troubles, and the baby. And you should have told me straightway, girlie, instead of letting me find out like this. I could have done more to help.”

“You can’t tell anyone what we’ve discussed here tonight, Mr. Nichols.” Detective Montgomery carried his chair back around to the visitor’s side of the desk, probably just as worried about Robbie’s garrulous mouth and impulsive nature as Rafe was. “I’ll get a tap added to this line at the Shamrock in addition to the one in her apartment. But he hasn’t called there for a couple of weeks now. He must know she’s not living there.” He set the chair down and faced Rafe across the desk. “Any indication the RGK knows she’s staying at your place?”

“She’s staying with you?” Robbie sounded surprised.

“I’ve got friends watching her 24/7. There, at the hospital, here.”

“So you’ve got eyes on her. What about the surrounding area?” Rafe bristled at the implication he might not be doing his job right. “The RGK isn’t above creating collateral damage to serve as a diversion. Or to draw her out by going after the things and people she cares about.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“You’re the guy who knocked her up?” Robbie sounded incredulous. “You know better than to—”

“Robbie,” Josie warned.

“‘Knocked up?’” Rafe’s hands curled into fists at the slang term applied to the woman who seemed so proud about carrying a child. So protective of it. “You know better than to talk to her like that.”

Detective Montgomery was still making himself a part of the mix, too. “He could be gunning for you, Delgado.”

Rafe whirled around. “That’s why I’ve got backup.”

“Stop it!” Josie’s sharp cry silenced them all. “All of you.” She hugged her arms around her middle, turning from one man to the next. “My personal life isn’t up for discussion. I’ve told you everything I know. And you?” Those blue eyes cut right through Rafe. “I just want to leave. Now.”

“Jose, I—”

Alex Taylor’s compact, muscular figure appeared in the doorway before any of them could make an apology. “Sarge, we’ve got an unwelcome visitor outside.”

Every cell in Rafe’s body was being pulled like a magnet to go to Josie, wrap her up in his arms and get her out of here. He checked his watch instead. “I thought we had the place cleared and locked down an hour ago.”

“We ran the plates on all the cars left in the lot, and the owners are all accounted for. This guy’s not a customer or a cop. You’re not gonna like this.” Alex arched a dark eyebrow and tossed a plastic card attached to a lanyard to Rafe. “Here are his press credentials.”

Rafe caught the laminated identification card and swore when he read the name. “Steve Lassen. Bottom-feeder.”

“Unfortunately, he’s keeping a legal distance, or I’d have sent him packing already,” Alex reported.

Rafe would like nothing better than to turn Alex loose to go after the man who’d once targeted his fiancée. But then he’d have a whole different set of issues to deal with, and Rafe was barely managing the problems he’d already created for himself. “I don’t want Josie’s face in the papers.”

“Let me see that.” Detective Montgomery took the card and uttered an expletive to match Rafe’s. “Lassen’s been following me around since the press conference, sucking up every tidbit of information he can. He’s a blot on this city.” At least they agreed on one thing. Montgomery crumpled the ID in his fist and moved toward the door. He pointed to Rafe. “You get her out of here. I’ll get rid of this guy.”

A few minutes later, Rafe shrugged into his leather jacket while he and Robbie waited at the back door for Josie to finish in the bathroom.

“I always counted you among my friends, Rafael.” Robbie’s Irish temper was still brewing beneath the surface. “But to not do the right thing by our Josie…”

The bathroom door opened and Josie came out, buttoning a sweater over her blouse and shifting her backpack onto her shoulder. “Be nice. Rafe didn’t know about the baby. I didn’t tell him until this mess with the Rich Girl Killer started.”

Rafe didn’t expect Josie to defend him, but he was relieved to see the paternal condemnation easing up a bit in Robbie’s expression. “I don’t understand you young people sometimes.” He pulled Josie in for a hug and pressed a noisy kiss on her cheek. “But I love ya.” He thumped Rafe on the shoulder before pushing the door open for them. “You keep our girl safe, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Rafe wrapped his fingers around Josie’s elbow, scanned the nearly empty parking lot, and waited to spot Michael Cutler leaning against his truck.

The high sign the captain gave him indicated the truck was secure. “I sent Murdock on to your apartment and Trip’s keeping an eye on the traffic out front.”

With a nod, Rafe stepped out with Josie.

“Hold up!” the captain cautioned, pushing away from the truck.

A light flashed off to the left. “That’s her, isn’t it?” a man’s voice called out. “She’s your witness.”

Rafe instinctively hunched his shoulders around Josie and pushed her back toward the building. “Captain?”

“Damn it, Lassen!” That was Spencer Montgomery. “I warned you.”

Multiple sets of footsteps crunched across the asphalt.

Steve Lassen might have driven away, but he’d snuck back into the area on foot. Rafe spotted him moving behind a car at the edge of the parking lot, beyond where he’d parked. “She’s the one who can bring down the RGK.”

“He took my picture.” Josie latched on to his sleeve as Rafe braced her in the open doorway. “He can’t have my picture.”

“What’s going on?” Robbie asked, pulling her in beside him.

“Take her.” Rafe spun around to see Spencer Montgomery running down the reporter in the neighboring lot.

“I have First Amendment rights!” Lassen protested.

Montgomery caught him and put him down on the pavement. “You just lost them when you violated my order.”

“I’ve got him, Detective.” Alex Taylor had joined the chase as well, and in seconds had his knee in Lassen’s back. He cuffed Lassen’s wrists together while Montgomery pried a camera from his fingers. “Did he get a pic?”

Montgomery was up on his feet, breathing hard and pushing buttons as he looked at the back of the digital camera. “There. I deleted it.”

He tossed the camera to the ground.

“Hey, watch it!” Lassen protested. “That equipment costs money.”

“So does a lawsuit,” Montgomery warned. He pulled the reporter up to his feet and glanced over his shoulder at Rafe. “Get her out of here.” He scooped the camera up from beneath the Dumpster and dropped it into his pocket. “I’d like to have a long, private talk with Mr. Lassen.”

After Detective Montgomery loaded Lassen into the backseat of his car, and drove away lecturing him about impeding his investigation, Alex Taylor jogged back over to Rafe. “All right, Sarge, let’s do this. Captain? Are we clear?”

“Move out.”

This time, with guns drawn down at their sides, the three SWAT cops formed a triangle around Josie and walked her out to Rafe’s truck.

Robbie Nichols followed behind them, angling over to the car at the edge of the lot where Steve Lassen had been lying in wait. Robbie swore and Josie stumbled, wanting to stop and see what had upset her uncle.

“Who the hell moved my car?”

Odd comment to make. Rafe tightened his arm around Josie’s back, drawing her up against his hip to get her moving again. He didn’t like
odd.
He slid a look from Alex to Robbie.

Taylor nodded and split from the group. “I’ll check it out. Mr. Nichols?”

Robbie was fuming now. “This is Sammy and Marco’s doing. Damn loan sharks. You tell your boss I’ll pay his freaking debt. You can’t intimidate me or me girl.”

“Robbie?” Josie squirmed at Rafe’s side. His fingers slid against her swollen abdomen, against the baby he’d put there, distracting him for a split second.

A split second too long.

“Hit the deck!” Captain Cutler yelled.

Rafe jerked his head around to catch the flash of light erupting beneath the hood of the car. “Robbie!”

Alex took the big man down with a flying tackle. Cutler dove for the pavement.

Rafe hugged his body around Josie’s and lifted her off her feet, spinning to take the brunt of the blast as the car exploded and knocked them to the ground. Fire burned through the sleeves of his jacket and seared his right side before they slid to a stop. Josie held on tight and screamed against his neck as bits of hot metal and molten plastic rained down from the smoke-blackened sky above them.

“I
DON’T SUPPOSE
there’s any chance that bomb could be the work of Robbie’s loan shark?” Josie ignored the fatigue that made every movement feel like she was dragging her bruised body through deep ocean water, and tossed the gauze she’d been using to treat the scrapes on Rafe’s left hand into the trash.

“No.”

Rafe took up more than his share of space in the small, curtained-off bay of the Truman Medical Center emergency room. The heat from his body reflected off every polished surface, warming the chilly hospital air. And the coppery scent of blood and antiseptic from his wounds, tinged with the more pungent odors of tar and asphalt imbedded in their clothes from their sliding impact with the pavement filled her head with every breath.

“This was definitely about you.” He hooked one finger beneath the sleeve of the green scrubs top she’d changed into when they’d arrived. His eyes lingered on the graze that marred her own elbow until she shrugged away from his touch and rolled the tray of supplies she was using to the other side of the examination table where he sat. “I talked to Sammy and Marco’s boss and paid off Robbie’s debt on the proviso that they won’t do business with Robbie again. And if I hear of them doing business, period, in the Shamrock’s neighborhood, I’ve got a couple of friends in Vice that I’ll sic on them.”

“I thought you said paying them off would keep Uncle Robbie from learning his lesson.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about him right now when you should be thinking of yourself. And I needed to narrow down the possibilities of where any threat to you might come from.” It seemed she owed a lot more than her life to this man. He stretched his booted feet down to the floor and stood. “Now I wish you’d lie down and let that other nurse who checked you out stitch me up.”

“Sit.” Josie braced her palm at the center of his chest and pushed him back to his seat on the edge of the table. “I got permission to treat you for a reason. I need to do this. I need to be in control of something in my life. For a few minutes, at least. You’re going to be my patient right now, understand?”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” Although he let her work without further argument, he perched there like a coiled panther, watching every move she made, no doubt ready to strike should she show any sign of weakness. “But I’m not that bad off. Robbie and Alex got hurt worse.”