Kat Attalla Special Edition (46 page)

Something snapped in the last conscious part of her muddled brain. Stockton’s cool description of the pleasure he would take in her death was more than she could quietly accept. She summoned all the strength she could gather from her rapidly weakening body. Without thought to the foolishness or danger, she landed her elbow in his gut.

* * * *

Jack reacted on pure instincts. He heard a shot ring out and saw Lilly fall to the floor in a heap. He aimed his gun directly between Stucky’s widened eyes. Every instinct told him shoot to kill, but he couldn’t. Instead, he lowered his aim on Stucky’s hand. The shot reverberated around the room, followed by a sharp cry and a second discharge as Stucky’s revolver hit the ground. Jack dropped to his knees next to Lilly.

Stucky held his bleeding hand, his face contorted in pain. The split second decision that had made Jack spare Aaron Stockton’s life left him with two regrets. One, that his ex-partner wasn’t in more pain, and the other, that he couldn’t bring himself to kill the slimy creep in front of Lilly.

He placed two fingers against the side of her neck to check her pulse. Slow, but steady. The wild shot had missed her, thankfully, but he had no idea how large of a dose had been injected into her.

“Say your goodbyes, Murphy. She hasn’t got a prayer.”

Stucky’s mocking pride in such a cowardly act pushed Jack beyond reason. He turned as stone cold as the man before him. Nothing mattered any more. He aimed his gun at the spot where Stucky’s heart would be, if he possessed one.

“Don’t do it, Murphy. He’s not worth it.” Winston entered the room, followed by two agents. They all had their weapons drawn, waiting for Jack to back off.

He wanted to pull the trigger, and that scared him. The rigid control he held over his emotions had evaporated. Like a shark in a frenzy, he smelled blood and he wanted more.

Amid the noise and confusion he heard a tiny moan. His last tattered shred of humanity came to the surface. Killing Stucky wasn’t nearly as important as keeping Lilly alive.

“Someone get an ambulance,” he barked out, kneeling over her.

“It’s on its way in, and they know what they’re dealing with,” Winston said.

His superior had been right when he insisted that Jack wear a wire. At least that gave the hospital a head start on the kind of drug they were dealing with if they arrived in time.

He sat on the floor and cradled Lilly in his arms. Her heart rate had slowed, and her breathing began an irregular pattern. He wanted to believe she would fight with her last ounce of strength. He needed to, or nothing would stop him from choking the life out of Stucky with his bare hands.

Her face appeared flushed, her skin warm and clammy. Her body was as lifeless as a rag doll. He’d seen the side effects before, when administered in small doses. Depression of the respiratory system could lead to coma or death without mechanical breathing assistance.

It seem like an eternity had passed before the ambulance finally arrived. The paramedics scurried around, taking vital signs, starting an IV, and radioing in for further instructions. Jack, only comfortable when in control of a situation, had to nervously stand back and wait. His boss, unable to get any coherent information out of him in the interim, eventually gave up.

“I was wrong, Murphy. She didn’t charm the pants off of you. She stole your heart. Anyone with that much guts has got to be a fighter.” Winston smiled and left Jack to accompany Lilly to the hospital.

The driver didn’t move fast enough for Jack, and he made a point of telling the man. Often. Her vital signs remained steady. The paramedics assured him it was a positive sign, however, without knowing how much Pentothal had been injected, Lilly’s case moved outside the realm of predictability.

The doctors and nurses tried to have Jack removed from the emergency room, but his badge gave him the legal right to remain with a protected witness. He stayed underfoot, questioning every move they made.

“Why can’t you give her an antidote?” Jack asked.

The doctor explained that the potential side effects far outweighed the benefits. They were doing everything possible. He would have to take a seat and wait it out in much the same way Lilly did. The guilt he carried rendered any chance of relaxing impossible. Stucky wanted to get him, yet Lilly was the one paying.

Her condition was critical but stable. If she held on for the next six hours, the prognosis was favorable.

* * * *

Lilly imagined she must be at the North Pole. She shivered from the cold and immediately felt a stiff, scratchy sheet being tucked around her. She must have forgotten to use the fabric softener again. She tried to push it away and gave up. Maybe later, she thought and sighed.

“Lilly?”

She recognized the barely whispered voice. How could the room feel cold with Jack so near? She opened her eyes. A soft night-light illuminated the tall silhouette leaning over the bed. Even the faint diffused light bothered her eyes, and she shut them again.

“Jack.” Was that her voice croaking out? Nothing felt real.

“I’m glad you’re finally awake. My fifteen minutes are almost up. Thank God they’ll be moving you soon.”

Fifteen minutes? Moving her soon? What was he talking about? She needed to touch his face but her arm felt restricted. “Untie me.”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s an I.V., baby. I can’t remove it.”

“Water?”

“Sure.” He poured a cup from the plastic jug on the side table and held it to her lips. A raging headache pounded at her temples as she swallowed. “You’re gonna feel like you have a monstrous hangover for a while. Why not go back to sleep?”

“You coming?”

His soft laughter gently tickled her ear. “Only conscious five minutes and already you’re making a pass at me. As much as I’d love to take you up on it, they really would throw me out of this hospital if I tried.”

“Hospital?” Despite the exhaustion and pain, she opened her eyes again. “How long?”

“Since last night.”

Although the last few hours were a blur, she did remember what led up to it. What had she done? Thank God nothing had happened to Jack. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he had been killed because of her. She’d never given him a chance to explain before running off on her own.

Had she learned nothing in the past two months? Logically, she knew Jack would only volunteer the information about their relationship to protect her. He had told her as much before he brought her in to give her statement. How could she compare the embarrassment of a few snide remarks against the worth of Jack’s life or hers? “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

Why did he stare at her with that guilty frown? He’d saved her life. Did he think he should apologize for that? “Why?”

“Stucky.”

“Mr. Stockton? I don’t understand.”

“Never mind for now.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “He’ll never hurt you again, Lilly. He’s been arrested. It’s all over.”

Her mind reeled with questions, but Jack had other ideas. While she tried to organize her incoherent thoughts, he stroked his thumb in a circular pattern across her forehead to hypnotize her back to sleep.

“I love you, Lilly,” she thought she heard him say, but she could find neither the courage nor the strength to ask him before sleep overtook her.

* * * *

Lilly pressed her fingers into the rough, trembling hand that held hers so tightly. Her arm was gently placed down on her chest and the blanket rearranged around her. The antiseptic smell of the air tickled her nostrils, and she held back a sneeze. All her muscles ached from the long hours of lying in the bed. Even her eyelids seemed to be glued shut.

“Jack?”

She felt a tap on her shoulder. “No, poppet.”

That voice! So strange, yet so familiar. She blinked several times and turned her head to the side. “Daddy?”

His mouth curved back in a smile, marred by the slight quiver of his bottom lip. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna wake up there.”

She relaxed into the pillow and let out a small laugh. “I’m too stubborn not to. You more than anyone should know that.”

“That’s what got you here in the first place.” Angry relief punctuated his words. John McGrath had never been a demonstrative father, and any expression of emotion, from love to fear, manifested itself in irate outbursts. “It’s time to stop this nonsense now and return home where you belong.”

“What happened to Jack?” Across the entire European continent she hadn’t been able to shake the indomitable Mr. Murphy, no matter how she tried. Of all the times to leave her in peace, he had chosen the point when she was at her weakest.

“He has other work to do, Lilly. His job was to keep you safe until you got back, which he did. You shouldn’t expect him to sit here and hold your hand too.”

She exhaled deeply. “I didn’t expect him to hold my hand.”

“Well, that’s what he was doing when I arrived. And now that I’m here, I told him that he could get back to important matters. Besides, the doctor said you could leave here today as long as you take it easy. “

Lilly always could count on her dad to be perfectly blunt. Since her father came, Jack didn’t have to bother with the loose ends. She thought she would have time to thank him and say goodbye.
It’s all over
. How prophetic that those should be the last words she clearly remembered him saying to her.

John opened the closet door and removed the clothes that had been neatly folded on a shelf. “How long do you think it will take you to get ready?”

“What’s the hurry?”

“Your mother and I can take much better care of you at home. Let them give your bed to someone who needs it.” He handed the jeans and tee shirt to her. “I’ll leave you to get dressed. There’s a plane leaving in two hours.”

Her father gave her a hand up and left her alone to change. Emptiness engulfed her. Although she wanted nothing more than to get out of the hospital, she had imagined that she would be leaving with Jack.

She understood that Jack’s work had him packing at a moment’s notice. At least she tried to understand. But the adventure was over for her. Picking up and moving on meant returning home to the life she had worked so hard to escape. She could hardly afford to remain in New York without a job and mammoth credit card bills due any day.

* * * *

Jack stared at the empty room for a full minute. The bouquet of multi-colored flowers in his hand contrasted with the pale yellow of the walls and gave a momentary relief from the sterile odor of disinfectant. Had her room been changed in the few hours he’d been away? He turned and walked back to the nurses’ station. “What happened to the patient in 215?” he demanded of the first nurse he could corner.

He waited impatiently while the woman, just beginning her shift, checked the records. “Dr. Weston released her this morning.”

“This morning,” he repeated numbly. She was gone, just like that. He never should have left the hospital that morning. Lilly’s father had insisted that he go to the office to take care of the paperwork from the aftermath of the case. As long as Lilly wouldn’t be alone when she awakened, he had agreed. After all, that would leave him free to return to pick her up when she was ready to leave.

Well, what did he expect? A call, when he had no phone? A visit, when he had no mailing address other than a post office box? He’d come to pick her up, but he had no place to take her.

Lilly’s father knew exactly what he was doing when he arranged a quick release that morning. What kind of father would let a man with no home, no responsible means of employment, and an uncertain future, walk off with the most precious thing in his life—his daughter?

Your gypsy life has finally caught up to you, old man
.

“Mr. Murphy?” A young candy striper waved a hand in front of his face. Jack shook his head.

“What?”

“You are Mr. Murphy, aren’t you?” she repeated. He nodded. “I thought so. She said you’d have a scar on your cheek. She left a note at the desk for you.”

“Who?”

The girl smiled and glanced at the bouquet now crushed in his strangle-hold. “The lady you brought those lovely flowers for.”

“Thank you,” he said and handed the bouquet to the girl. He retrieved the note, but waited until he returned to his rented car before reading the message.

In a fashion so typical to Lilly, the short, neat letter had a professional look. Headings and salutations were precisely where they should be, the words, clear and to the point without one hint of emotion. A simple thank you and have a good life. He’d used similar words often enough to recognize a standard kiss-off. He might have been tempted to crumple the note and toss it out the window if not for the remains of tearstains that caused the ink to run in several spots.

She wasn’t writing him off, she was leaving him with an easy way out.