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Authors: Lara Lacombe

Deadly Contact (12 page)

BOOK: Deadly Contact
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He took a step forward at that, glaring down at her. “Actually, it is your fault.” His words were short and clipped. “And believe me, we will talk about your behavior. But not now.”

“My behavior? Just who the hell do you think you are? I’m not a child you can scold when I don’t do what you want. That’s not how this works.” She gestured between them, her movements jerky but forceful. She leaned forward, pointing at him. If he’d been just a step closer, she would have poked him in the chest. “And for the record, your behavior has been lacking, as well.”

A polite cough from the door cut off whatever James was about to say. Dr. Mahoney stepped into the room carrying a bundle wrapped in blue fabric, which she placed on the rolling tray next to the bed.

“Why don’t you come sit down for me?” She patted the end of the bed. “This won’t take long.”

With a final glare at Kelly, James sat down, making sure to arrange himself as far away from her as possible.
Fine.
She didn’t want to touch him anyway.

Kelly stared down at her lap as Dr. Mahoney patched James up. Why was she letting him get to her like this? So he still harbored doubts about her innocence. After the way she had walked out on him before, could she really blame him for not trusting her? Maybe she was being too hard on him, but a small part of her was disappointed that he thought she could be involved. After all, walking out on someone was a far cry from terrorism, and he should know her well enough to realize she would never do something like that.

She couldn’t deny she’d been keeping secrets from him. She’d never told him about Gary or about the fact that she’d started seeing a therapist after their night together. She had finally gotten to a point where she felt secure again, and then this nightmare had started. It wasn’t James’s fault she was involved, but it did hurt to know he didn’t think of her as being on his team.

“These the two GSWs?”

Kelly looked up to find two uniformed police officers at the door. The older man sported a mustache and a frown, while his partner looked impossibly young, his cheeks pink and smooth and his eyes wide.

“Yes,” Dr. Mahoney responded. “Just give me a minute to finish, and then they’re all yours.”

“We’ll be right outside the door,” the older man replied. He nudged his partner, and the pair stepped out into the hall, their shadows casting dark lines on the floor.

“Good,” James muttered under his breath. “I need to talk to them.”

“I imagine they’re quite interested in what you have to say,” the doctor said. Kelly heard the snip of scissors, followed by the rip of tape. “After all,” she continued conversationally, “it’s not every day we see an FBI agent involved in a shoot-out.”

“Glad I could provide some entertainment for you,” James said wryly.

Dr. Mahoney winked at him as she stepped back, and James grinned at her. A small spark of jealousy kindled to life in Kelly’s chest as she watched the pair—the pretty blonde woman and the dangerously handsome man.
Mine,
she thought as she watched him button his shirt.

No, not anymore,
replied the voice of reason.
You had your chance.

James spared her a glance as he stood. Her thoughts must have showed on her face, because he paused, studying her as if trying to read her emotions. “I’ll be right back,” he said slowly, frowning slightly before he turned and stepped out of the room.

“Looks like you’re all set here,” Dr. Mahoney said, tossing the debris into the trash can in the corner. “I’ll start the paperwork, and we’ll get you on your way.”

“Thanks,” Kelly replied absently. Where was she supposed to go? She couldn’t go home, not with what had happened tonight. There was no way she was going to stay in that apartment now that Caleb and his thugs knew where she lived. She shuddered at the thought of him in her home, her space. She didn’t really spend much time there, but it had always been a kind of refuge for her. Now Caleb had ruined that. She’d never feel safe there again.

Would James still take her to the safe house? What was the protocol after someone had been shot at? She idly wondered if he’d have to take her someplace new or if his original plan was still good. He was probably looking forward to dropping her off and having someone else deal with her. Maybe a little separation would do them both good.

What exactly did a safe house look like? she wondered, leaning back against the stiff, undersize hospital pillow. More important, was there a bathtub? She sighed, wanting nothing more than to wash this night off her and climb into a soft bed. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

She shifted a bit, gasping as the movement sent a sudden spike of pain down her arm. Hadn’t the doctor said something about pain medication? Where was the nurse?

As if summoned by her thoughts, a young man in brown scrubs stepped into the room. “Ready for pain meds?” he asked cheerfully, holding up a paper cup as he approached.

“Yes, please,” Kelly replied, leaning forward to sit up.

After verifying her identity, he passed her the pain pills. They were small and white and went down easily, a fact Kelly was grateful for, seeing as how the cup of water the nurse had given her only held a few sips.

“Sit tight,” the nurse said, gathering up the trash as he moved to the door. “Buzz me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Kelly called out, but he’d already moved on.

She glanced around the empty room, at a loss. After spending the day with James and other members of his team, she suddenly felt very lonely.

“Now what?” she whispered to herself.

Chapter 6

“L
et me get this straight.”

Mitchell, the older cop, flipped his notebook shut and eyed James dubiously. “Even though there were no serious injuries, you want us to go back to the station and report this as a double homicide?”

James nodded, trying not to look too desperate. “That’d be great.”

“And why would I want to create all that paperwork for myself?”

James could tell by the set of his jaw that Mitchell wasn’t in a mood to cooperate. Not that he blamed him. He remembered well the reams of forms that accompanied a murder investigation, all needing to be filled out in triplicate on the antique typewriter with the sticky keys.

“I know it’s a pain in the ass. When I worked in the 106, we had the crappiest typewriter in the city. I always had to pull the forms out and start over.”

Mitchell’s brows shot up. “You were a D.C. cop?”

James nodded. “Yeah. Seven years on the job.”

“The 106, you said? That’s district one, right?”

James nodded again. “You got it.”

Mitchell eyed him up and down, a new respect in his gaze. “That’s a tough area.”

James shrugged. “Aren’t they all?”

That earned him a laugh and a slap on the back that made his eyes water. “True enough. So.” He stepped in closer, lowering his voice. “You gonna tell me why you want me to file a false report?”

James took a second to weigh his options. If he refused to talk, Mitchell might very well refuse to file the report, which would complicate an already bad day. Better to risk the information getting out, especially if it bought him a few hours’ time.

“I’m working a sensitive case right now,” he said, pausing slightly before saying the magic words. “It’s a national-security thing. I need the perp who took a shot at us tonight to think we’re dead.”

“I see.” Mitchell nodded thoughtfully. “And this would really help you out?”

“Oh, yeah,” James assured him. “You have no idea. And to make things easier on you, you don’t even have to file the paperwork. You could just go back to your car, check in with dispatch and let them know the two GSWs were DOA. Then you have a quiet word with your captain when you get back to the station.” He rubbed his palms together in a pantomime of washing his hands. “That’s it.”

Mitchell broke into a wide smile. “I think I can handle that.”

James held his hand out for a quick shake. “Good man. I really appreciate it.”

“Good luck to you.” Mitchell tucked his notepad back into his pocket. “You ready, kid?”

The younger cop, who had remained silent during the discussion, nodded. “Say, how’d you go from being a cop to an FBI agent?”

James swallowed hard, forcing down the painful memories the innocent question had stirred up. “I worked a joint case with the bureau, and they recruited me.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. After Steve’s death, he had needed to leave the force, and luckily, the bureau had been hiring.

“What about your partner?” The kid’s eyes cut to Mitchell, who was listening to the exchange with barely concealed curiosity.

“My partner was retiring, so it was a good time for me to make the jump.”

The young man nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “That’s cool. Saved you having to break in a new partner.” He shot a sly grin at Mitchell, who chuckled.

“Let’s go, wiseass. We’ve still got a lot of night ahead of us.”

The pair nodded at him and wandered away. James exhaled slowly. One thing taken care of. How many fires were left to put out?

He caught sight of a blond ponytail rounding the corner and hurried after it. Getting the hospital to cooperate was next on his growing to-do list.

He found the doctor standing at the nurses’ station, jotting something down on a patient’s chart. Crap, what was her name?

“Um, excuse me?”

She glanced up at him, did a double take. Then she smiled, the expression transforming her from harried professional to beautiful woman.

“Hello there,” she said. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, actually, there was something.” He laid a hand on her arm and gently guided her to the doorway of an empty patient room. It wasn’t the best option, as far as privacy went, but it was better than nothing.

“I need a favor,” he began.

She didn’t say anything, but her smile slipped a little. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was disappointed.

“I’m working a case,” he went on, talking quickly to hold her attention. The last thing he needed was for her to be pulled away on an emergency before he could finish explaining what he needed her to do.

“So do you think you can sit on her chart? Maybe keep it out of the general circulation, so anyone snooping around wouldn’t know she’d been here?”

She let out a sigh. “I suppose I could misplace it for a few hours, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’d be great. But only if it doesn’t get you into trouble.”

She smiled up at him again. “Nah. It’s no big deal.”

“I appreciate it.” He gave her arm a squeeze, and her smile grew warmer.
Uh-oh.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, feeling like an ass. He didn’t want to take advantage of her seeming goodwill toward him, but he wasn’t done asking for favors yet.

“Yes?” she said, moving infinitesimally closer.

“Can you keep her overnight?”

She blinked up at him. “Your friend?”

He nodded, holding his breath.

Her blond brows drew together in a frown. “That’s a little tougher to swing. She’s not seriously injured, and we need the bed.”

He cast about for something he could say to convince her. “She did pass out several times tonight, though. Could you admit her for observation or something?”

The doctor pursed her lips and exhaled, causing the stray strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail to flare out. “I suppose you want me to admit her under an assumed name, too?”

He grinned. “Now you’re getting the idea. I think Jane Doe has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

“Well, she didn’t have an ID on her when she came in,” said the doctor. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

“I owe you,” James said sincerely.

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Normally, I’d take that as my cue to request drinks and dinner as payback. But something tells me you’re not available....” She trailed off, watching him closely.

He fought to keep his expression neutral. “Not exactly,” he admitted.

“Figures,” she muttered. “It was worth a shot anyway. Tell your friend I said she’s a lucky girl.”

“What makes you think it’s her?”

She shot him a look that was pure feminine amusement. “Please. I heard the two of you arguing. It’s clear from the way you fight that you both care about each other.”

Well, that much was true. Most of his anger had stemmed from fear—the fear that Kelly was seriously hurt, the fear that she’d come so close to being killed tonight. The fear of losing her had cut through the tangled thicket of his emotions and laid bare the fact that he still had feelings for her. That realization had only made him more frustrated than ever, and it had caused him to lash out.

The doctor was watching him, clearly expecting an answer. “It’s complicated,” he said, not knowing what else to say. How could he explain the situation to a relative stranger when he couldn’t even explain it to himself?

“It usually is,” she replied, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “You’ve both had a crappy night, and I imagine you’re short on sleep. Will you be staying with her tonight?”

He nodded. No way was he going to let her out of his sight. Besides, they were both supposed to be dead, so he couldn’t very well go gallivanting around town.

“I’ll try to get her a bigger room so we can roll a cot in alongside the bed.”

James shook his head. “No need. I can’t sleep anyway. Save it for someone who can use it.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” A shrill beep had her reaching for the waistband of her scrubs. She read the number with a frown, then reattached her pager to its holster. “Gotta run. I’ll start on that paperwork when I get a minute.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

She sent him a distracted wave as she rushed off down the hall, leaving him standing alone in the doorway. Time to get back to Kelly. He’d been gone for too long, and even though it was unlikely she was in danger here in the emergency room, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. He still had some calls to make, but he could do that from the room.

First, though, he had to talk to her about the shooting. She had deliberately ignored his instructions tonight, putting them both in harm’s way. He had to make her understand that when he told her to do something, it was for her safety and she needed to listen to him. But how? She clearly wasn’t in the mood to hear him out, and he didn’t want the conversation to devolve into another argument.

With a deep sigh, he began the walk back to her room, mentally practicing his speech as he moved down the hall. He was just going to come right out and say it, no beating around the bush. She generally appreciated honesty, and he was going to give it to her. If she didn’t like it, too bad. He wasn’t a fan of getting shot, so they were even.

“Kelly, we need to talk.” He stepped into the room, the words sticking in his throat as he drew up short at the sight that greeted him.

Kelly lay back in the bed, her hair spread out in a reddish halo on the pillow. Her face was pale but relaxed, her lips parted slightly, as though she was inviting a kiss. Her chest rose and fell in an even cadence under the starched white sheet, the only movement in the otherwise still room.

She made quite a picture, all delicate lines and muted colors. He rubbed at his chest, where a curious warmth had blossomed. Seeing her like this, with her guard down and looking vulnerable, reminded him of how things used to be between them. Back when his heart didn’t ache every time he was around her, and she didn’t look at him as if he’d just kicked her puppy. He wanted to get back to that place with her, but it seemed as if for every step forward, they took two steps back.

Today was a perfect example. They’d shared a moment this morning, at her work. But he’d said or done something to push her away, and admitting he didn’t fully trust her had only made things worse. Now they were both injured, and he knew things were about to get a lot more complicated.

He walked over to the chair with quiet, careful steps, then gingerly settled onto the seat. She needed her rest tonight. Tomorrow and its tough conversations would come soon enough.

He could wait.

* * *

Kelly wasn’t sure what woke her.

She didn’t even know she had fallen asleep, as she’d had no dreams to mark the time. She opened her eyes to find a room, dark and unfamiliar, with long shadows reaching across the floor to grab at her toes. She shifted, trying to sit up so she could get a better view of things, only to gasp as a burning spike of pain shot down her arm.

Her shoulder. That was right. She’d been shot. Was she still in the hospital? Why would they keep her there overnight, when the doctor had told her she was fine?

There was a soft rustling beside the bed, and she turned to see a shadowy figure sitting in the chair, his face hidden from view. She jerked away with a strangled cry, her heart kicking into a frantic rhythm.

The figure moved, reaching out to lay a warm hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Kelly.” James spoke quietly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

“James,” she breathed. “You scared me. For a second there I thought—”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you were going to go back to sleep.”

“My shoulder hurts too much for that right now.” She groped for the button to raise the head of the bed, pushing herself up into a sitting position to better talk to James. Being flat in the bed next to him felt too intimate.

“Should I turn on the light?”

“No. Dark is better.” She didn’t want him to see her like this. While the doctor had done a good job of cleaning her shoulder, she could feel a crust of dried blood on her neck and chest and could only imagine how scary she looked.

“How long have you been here?” He shifted in the chair as if he was uncomfortable, but since hospital chairs were not designed for comfort, that didn’t tell her anything.

“Not long,” he said softly. He looked up, but the dim light from the streetlamp outside her window didn’t provide enough illumination for her to see his face. “I thought it would be better if we stayed here overnight.”

“Because he’s still out there?”

“Yes.”

“And you think he’s still a threat.”

James didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. Kelly wasn’t stupid. She was no tactical expert, but a hospital was a busy place—lots of witnesses and even the odd guard or police officer roaming around. It would be harder to attack someone in a building that never slept. Still, knowing that James thought they were in danger sent a chill through her body. She wanted to curl up in a ball and shut the world out, but she knew that wasn’t an option.

“Did you get a good look at the shooter?”

James shook his head, confirming her suspicions. “He was already gone by the time I entered the apartment. Out your bedroom window and down the fire escape. We’re dusting for prints, but...” He didn’t have to finish. The man had probably worn gloves, and even if he hadn’t, who knew how many layers of fingerprints were on the fire escape?

“Do you think it was Caleb?”

Another head shake. “Could be, but I doubt it. Based on what we know about him, he usually hires this kind of thing out. He went after you at the office today because you were right there in front of him, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”

Wonderful.
More people after her. She absently fingered the edge of the gauze bandage on her shoulder. She’d been lucky tonight but probably wouldn’t fare as well during a second encounter.

James caught her gesture and cleared his throat. “I don’t think he meant to shoot you,” he said quietly. “I think he was aiming for me.”

“What makes you say that?” His head was down again, and she watched him run a hand through his hair.

BOOK: Deadly Contact
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