When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions) (31 page)

Focus on Alexia. Ignoring his sibling, Hunter looked down at the woman he was falling for. She looked pale, yet peaceful. And no blood that he could see. He looked at the paramedic who released the blood pressure cuff from around Alexia’s upper arm. Her name badge read Sheri Morris. He asked, “What is it? What’s wrong with her?”

Ms. Morris’s eyes met his. “It’s like she’s in a really deep sleep. My guess is some kind of drug. Her vitals are slow, but nothing dangerous. We’ll get to the hospital and let a doctor check her out.”

“And she was just lying out here in the yard when you arrived?”

The paramedic helped her partner lift Alexia onto the second gurney. Thank goodness the sheet was only drawn to her chin.

Ms. Morris grunted as she rolled the gurney toward the back of the ambulance. “No. That guy you were arguing with was carrying her toward his car. When he saw us, he waved us over to help.”

Hunter whirled to face Chad. “Carrying her toward your car?”

Chad exploded. “I was getting her to a hospital, man!”

“What about Jimmy and Marty? Were you going to try to get them to a hospital too?” Hunter yelled back.

Chad’s fingers curled into a fist and Hunter prepared himself for a blow.

Instead, Chad took a deep breath and said through clenched teeth, “They were dead when I got here. At least Jimmy was. Officer Cortez found Marty in the kitchen pantry. They couldn’t revive her.”

Hunter swallowed a groan as Chad said, “I checked Jimmy, called it in, and then this person comes out of the house carrying Alexia like a sack of potatoes. I hollered at him and went after him. He dropped her and took off.” His brother swiped a hand down his face as though the action could get rid of the tension he obviously felt. “I had to either chase him or make sure Alexia was okay.” His eyes drilled into Hunter’s. “I checked on Alexia. When she wasn’t responsive, I picked her up and figured it might be faster to drive her to the hospital myself. Then these guys showed up.”

“We were right around the block up at the diner. Took us less than a minute to get here,” Ms. Morris said. “Now, we’re ready to roll. Bye, guys.”

She started to shut the door when Hunter stopped her. “I’m going with you.”

“You can ride up front or meet us there.”

Hunter debated for about three seconds. He might need his car. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I’m right behind you,” Chad said.

“No, you’re not.” Hunter held up a hand, halting his brother’s movement. “You’re the only one that saw the person trying to snatch Alexia. You need to write up an incident report.”

“I can do that later.”

Hunter felt his jaw go rigid. “Do it now, please. You want to help Alexia? The sooner we have all the details, the sooner we’ll catch the creep that did this.”

It took all of his self-control not to plant his fist on Chad’s nose. Instead, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Self-control.

Right.

He didn’t want to argue with Chad. He wanted to be with Alexia. But he was a professional and had an attempted kidnapping to investigate. With regret, he watched the ambulance pull out of the drive and head toward the subdivision’s exit.

First things first. Protection for Alexia.

He called his captain and filled the man in. Then asked who could be spared to cover Alexia. The captain promised to have someone meet the ambulance at the hospital, then ordered Hunter to solve this case yesterday.

“I’m working on it, sir. Every cop within twenty miles is now on this scene ransacking the neighborhood looking for the perp and asking questions. We’re doing all we can do.”

“Do more. This is getting ridiculous. This perp is making us all look like idiots. And now we have two more murders. Killing Jimmy and Marty was a big mistake.” Grief filled the man’s voice. He’d lost two of his own tonight. They all had.

“The media’s going to be all over this. In fact, I think I see a truck pulling up now.”

“Use them. Get the word out. We don’t have a great description of the killer, but maybe something will filter in.”

“I’ll put Chad on it if that’s all right.”

“Do it. This woman, Alexia, she either knows something or has something this person wants. Find out what it is.”

“Yes sir.” Relief filled him, glad he had his captain’s permission to pull out all the stops to protect Alexia. Although, short of using a safe house and hiding her away, there wasn’t much more that he could do.

He pulled Chad aside. “All right. Run it by me again.”

Chad did, leaving out no detail. And Hunter had to admit his brother was a good cop with great observation skills.

Chad rubbed his head and frowned. “You know, there’s something about the way the perp moved.”

Hunter lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”

His brother shook his head. “I mean, the dude was strong to be able to carry Alexia the way he did. What do you think she weighs? A hundred twenty? Twenty-five, tops?”

“Yeah. Probably.” He had a glimmer of where Chad was going with this. “So, our intruder was someone who works out a lot?”

“Definitely. But not just that. It was the way he ran after he dropped Alexia to the ground. It was more like
he
was actually a
she
.”

Hunter considered Chad’s little bombshell. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. In fact the more I think about it, the more I’m not liking it.”

Because you’re the one who’s actually after Alexia and are trying to throw me? Or because you are truly on to something?

Chad swallowed hard. “She . . . uh . . . kind of reminded me of . . . someone.”

“Who?”

“Well, it was just the build, the way the person ran . . .”

“Who, Chad?”

“Christine.”

35

Saturday, 9:04 a.m.

Alexia got tired of waiting on the paperwork that would allow her to leave the hospital. Instead of sitting in her room twiddling her thumbs and watching brain-numbing shows on the little TV, she decided to get up and visit her mother. For the most part, she felt fine after her terrorizing ordeal from the night before. A tender scalp from where her hair had almost been yanked out, some lingering fatigue, and a slight headache. The side effects of being drugged with chloroform.

She opened her door and walked into the hall where she found an officer sitting with his back to the wall. He stood when he saw her.

“Ma’am? Is everything all right?”

“I’m just going to take a walk, Officer—” she leaned forward to read his name badge—“Pickens.”

“Then I’ll walk with you.”

Alexia nodded, not minding the watchful eyes. In fact, she was grateful for them and knew that she could thank Hunter for the protection.

Officer Pickens was quiet as she made her way to the nurses’ station to let them know where they could find her should they need to.

Five minutes later, she found herself on her mother’s floor in front of her door. Officer Pickens planted himself at attention to one side of the door.

Alexia knocked, then pushed into the room slowly, not wanting to wake the woman should she be sleeping. Peering around the edge, she saw her mother propped up in the bed. A bowl of soup sat in front of her.

“Hi, Mom.”

At Alexia’s voice, the woman’s eyes brightened. “Alexia, come in, darling.”

Alexia made her way to the empty chair beside the bed. “You look better today.”

“The medicine they gave me seems to be working. For now.”

Interesting comment. “Where’s your sidekick?”

“Michael?” Her mother took a sip of the soup from the silver spoon. “I told him he couldn’t stay by my side the rest of his life. He has a job and needed to go do it.”

“He cares a lot for you.”

Her mother paused and studied Alexia for a moment. Then she gave a slow nod. “Yes. He does.”

Alexia fidgeted. Then blurted, “I figured after Dad, you wouldn’t want another man.”

The woman blanched, then grimaced. “I didn’t for a long time. Then I met Michael. He’s . . . special. I like him.”

“Do you love him?”

A frail shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I even know how to love a man.”

The honest confession threw Alexia for a moment. Then she asked, “Why did you send me away after graduation?” She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but she had to know.

Her mother drew in a deep breath and let it out in a slow, shallow stream. “You were so anxious to leave, to get away, I didn’t blame you.”

“But you practically forced me out the door. Did you hate me that much?”

An agonized cry escaped the dry lips. The spoon clattered to the tray. “No, no, Alexia. I
loved
you that much!”

Alexia blinked at the passionate words. Her heart trembled and she felt short of breath. “How can you say that?” Anger churned. “How
dare
you say that?”

A single tear traced a zigzag path down her mother’s cheek. “I had to send you away. My precious child. Your father was so bitter, so angry with you. He blamed you for the fire, for his burns and his pain. He was so full of the desire for revenge that I knew as soon as he regained his strength, he would do something to you. Something horrible.” Another tear slipped from beneath her lashes. “I had to send you away. I had to make you hate me enough that you would leave. It wasn’t hard,” she finished with a whisper, “you already had no respect for me for staying with your father. Turning that to hate didn’t take much.”

Stunned, Alexia stared at the woman she’d resented, maybe even hated, for the past ten years. For years, she’d hung onto the memory of her mother telling her to get out and never come back.

It was that memory that fueled her desire to succeed, to show her mother she wasn’t a loser, that she was lovable. To prove she was somebody. Her fingers went to the ring on her left hand. Twisting, turning, worrying it.

And all along, her mother had loved her? Had sent her away because she feared for Alexia’s life? It was almost too much to take in.

Alexia pulled in a shuddering breath. “What about after he left? Why didn’t you tell me? Why wait until this past year to start trying to get in touch with me?”

Her mother shrugged a sad, slow lift of her shoulders. “It was only recently that I’ve felt safe enough to try to contact you. I was so afraid he’d come back,” she whispered.

Alexia swallowed hard. Yeah, she still had that nightmare too.

Her mother’s gaze fell to Alexia’s hands. “You still wear the ring?”

“What?”

“The ring I gave you for your twelfth birthday, remember?” A smile softened her features.

Alexia stared at the piece of silver jewelry. “Yes. I remember.” The ring had brought her comfort in the last ten years. She never took it off. Swallowing hard, she was hit with the knowledge that it was the connection with her mother she’d longed for. A connection she never allowed herself to openly admit. Until now. Confused by her conflicting feelings of love and hate for the woman before her, she asked, “What is it you need me to do for you, Mom?”

“What?” Confusion knit the woman’s brow then cleared. “Oh. The conversation from the other day.”

“Yeah.”

“It was . . . nothing, Alexia. All right? Just forget you heard what you heard. Really, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing and I can’t forget. Just tell me what Michael wants me to help you with.”

A shaky hand brought a tissue to press them against her dry lips. A sigh escaped and she closed her eyes for a brief moment. “I need a bone marrow transplant.”

Surprise slugged her. “What?”

“I have aplastic anemia. Michael—” She paused, then sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, more tears swam, threatening a deluge. “Michael told me I needed to ask you to be tested as a possible donor.”

Alexia froze as she took in her mother’s words. Her mouth moved but nothing came out. Then she started laughing. A hysterical laugh void of humor. The laughter turned to tears, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She clamped a hand over her mouth, unable to figure out why she was reacting this way.

Finally, she calmed enough to swallow. “You want me to be tested.”

Tears flowed down her mother’s cheeks, freely, like a river with a broken dam. “No. No, I don’t.”

That stopped Alexia. “What?”

“I don’t. I told him I couldn’t ask that of you. Because I don’t want you to think . . .” She pressed her lips together. “No. I don’t want you to be tested. You weren’t supposed to find out, to know about this. I didn’t want you to know.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper. Then she gathered some strength and said, “I’ve been added to the transplant list. I’ll find a donor another way.”

36

Saturday, 9:58 a.m.

Hunter flashed his badge to the officer seated outside of Alexia’s room. The man nodded and motioned him to the door. Hunter rapped his knuckles on the wood, waited until he heard her call “Come in,” and pushed the door open.

He stepped into the room, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his fist. Alexia sat on the bed fully dressed. She looked tired and stressed, but other than that, he couldn’t see any obvious side effects from the night before. And she looked beautiful to him. Her red curls dangled over her shoulders, just begging him to run his fingers through them.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”

She shrugged, but her emerald eyes flashed with gladness at seeing him. “I’m doing all right. Other than a little bit of a headache, I’m fine. The doctor said someone used chloroform on me.”

Hunter winced. “Yeah. I got the criminal report. It came last night, but you were really out of it. I just ran home to grab a shower and get back over here.”

Her gaze flicked to the floor, then back to him. “What happened to the officer watching the house? And Officer Howell?”

Hunter swallowed. “They’re . . . dead.”

She nodded, no emotion showing other than a shuddering indrawn breath. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”