Princess (3 page)

chapter
4

J
ess crouched in the rain, fighting panic. She’d struck a man with her car. Hit him hard, with almost no warning. Now he wasn’t moving, and she was probably a murderer. Meanwhile, he was bleeding heavily.

Clamping down on her hysteria, Jess moved so she could check his face. She tried opening one of his eyes carefully with her finger, but he didn’t react. When her hands slipped on something that felt like blood, she gave a start and sprawled back on the ground in the mud. Wincing, she pulled off one of the man’s gloves and searched desperately for a pulse.

Yes. No.

Maybe?

But she was no doctor, and she couldn’t tell if he had a pulse, especially with her hands shaking like Jell-O. Meanwhile, her victim still wasn’t moving, wasn’t making any noise, and neither seemed to be a good sign.

Cold.

Suddenly Jess remembered reading about heat loss in cases of shock and trauma. Dragging her coat out of the Jeep, she draped the heavy wool over his motionless body. When her fingers brushed his neck, she felt the warm, sticky thing again and was certain it was blood.

She had to call the police or 911. She needed help
now.

A shrill ringing broke through her panic. Not her cell phone, Jess realized, but his. The sound was coming from somewhere inside his leather jacket.

After a few fumbled tries, she managed to find a small silver flip phone. “Yes,” she answered, gasping. “Who is this?”

She heard a little click, followed by silence.

“If you’re there, answer me. I need help.” Her voice broke. “Hello?” Shivering, she leaned over the man on the ground and continued to talk. “He’s not moving. Dear God, he’s not saying anything. I’m afraid that I killed him.”

“Killed who?” The voice on the phone was male, cold and clipped.

“The man. The one you were calling. I found this phone in his jacket after he—he fell.” Jess swallowed hard, trying to stay lucid. “He was on the motorcycle, but he couldn’t see me at the curve. Then the farm truck swerved and he turned at the same time and I—I hit him.”

“Take it easy, ma’am. Is he breathing?”

“I don’t
know.
Just—just hurry. He needs help now.”

“I’ll send someone.” The voice became brisk and precise. “Tell me exactly where you are and what happened.”

“I
told
you, I came around the corner in the fog. I’d turned off the road to avoid that stupid van, but he couldn’t see me, and then I—” Jess took a deep breath. “Then I hit him. Now he’s here on the ground, not moving. I’ve covered him with my coat, but there’s something on my hands and I think it’s his blood,” she said hoarsely.

“Did you check his pulse?”

Jess fought through another wave of panic. “I tried but my fingers are numb, so I can’t tell anything. You’ve got to call 911 right away before he—”

“They’re on their way. Just stay on the line and keep talking to me.”

Jess looked down, smoothing her coat over the motionless body. “How can you send someone if you don’t know where I am?”

“You’re going to give me directions right now,” the male voice said calmly. “Keep him warm and be sure you don’t move him, no matter what.”

“Of course I won’t move him. Do you think I’m a
complete
idiot? I know about trauma following an accident. There could be internal bleeding, spinal damage—”

Or death.
All her fault.

Jess closed her eyes, shuddering. “Just send someone, okay? We’re about three miles east of Port Angeles on Route 101.”

Keys clicked at the other end of the line, and Jess realized he was typing at a computer. “Three miles east of Port Angeles. You’re on the 101,” he repeated. “North or south side?”

“South. There was a four-way stop just beyond the big hotel.” She stared down at the man on the grass. “Hurry, please,” she whispered. “It’s so cold out here and he’s still not moving.” Her fingers tightened, shaking so hard the phone nearly fell. “Why isn’t he
moving
?”

“Everything will be fine,” the calm voice assured her. “What’s your name?”

Jess squinted through the rain. “My name? I’m—”

Something stopped her from answering. She didn’t know the man on the motorcycle; she didn’t know the voice on the other end of the phone, and she had been attacked earlier.

No names, she decided.

“My name doesn’t matter. Just hurry with that ambulance.”

“They’re five minutes away. Don’t worry, it won’t be long now. Is he breathing? Can you check that for me now?”

“It’s hard to tell.” Jess searched, trying to feel his breath. “I can’t be sure. It’s windy out here. Sweet heaven, just
hurry.
”

“Stop shouting, will you?”

The voice was shaky, originating somewhere near her wrist, and Jess dropped the phone in shock when she realized it was the biker. His eyes were open, staring at her. “What the hell happened to me?”

“You’re alive,” she whispered, closing her eyes in relief.

The man on the ground rolled his shoulders and grunted in pain. “Yeah, I’m alive, even though you tried to flatten me with that damned Jeep of yours.”

“Listen, I was trying to avoid you. First the van crossed into my lane, and then the truck was there, skidding toward me, and you—” Jess took a nervous breath. “I don’t think you should be talking.”

“Yeah, we’ll argue the details later after my head stops feeling like razors drilling in from both sides.” He dragged his backpack over his shoulder and struggled to his feet.

“Don’t do that!” She lunged toward him as he pulled off his helmet. “You’ve been hit. You’re not supposed to move at all after something like that.”

“I’m okay,” he growled, swaying.

Jess leaned into him, grabbing his waist when he started to stumble. “You’re not fine. You can barely stand up.”

Lights cut toward them. Both of them went still. A big blue van eased onto the shoulder and stopped.

“About time.”

“Who’s that?” Jess asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry, they’re friends of mine.”

“How did they get here so fast?” Jess looked down at the cell phone she’d dropped on the ground. “Wow. Your friend must really be good.”

A man in a nylon parka walked around the side of the van, carrying a medical bag. He looked at Jess, then frowned at the man she was struggling to hold upright.

“Mr. Randall, I take it?”

“That’s right.”

“You shouldn’t be standing up. You shouldn’t have moved at all.”

Shaking his head, the man in the parka raised a small white penlight and flashed it briefly at Jess, then at the man beside her. In the sudden light Jess had her first good look at her victim’s face.

“You?”
She struggled out from beneath the man’s arm and backed up fast. “You’ve been following me, haven’t you? Listen, my sister’s an FBI agent, and if you touch me again, I’m calling her.” When she continued to back up, Jess banged into the fender of her car and grunted in pain.

“Hold on.” The doctor frowned at her. “There’s been a misunderstanding, but I’m certain we can straighten it out.”

“Good luck trying. The woman’s crazy.” Her victim sat down abruptly on the opposite fender of her Jeep, swaying a little. “Tell Izzy she’s the suspect I told him about.”

“Me?”
Jess glared back at him. “In that case, tell your Izzy, whoever she is, that
you
knocked me out and locked me in a hotel room.”

“Because you were about to scream.” The man on her fender shook his head, then winced. “What the hell were you doing in my shower?”

Jess preferred not to remember. It was a standard part of her hotel assessment to see if she could have other guests switched from their rooms, but it wasn’t
her
fault that the clerk had agreed so easily. Nor did it explain how this man called Randall had bypassed hotel security and made his way into her room so easily. “Never mind me. How did you get inside? My door was locked, I’m certain of that.”

The man on the fender of her Jeep simply shrugged.

“Who is he?” Jess snapped at the man with the medical bag.

“Someone who does . . . sensitive work,” he said carefully. “For the government.”

“For
which
government?”

The doctor laughed dryly. “For the U.S. government, trust me.”

Of course he would say that, Jess thought. “Fine. But now that you’re here, I’ll be going. You obviously have matters in hand.” She felt a little woozy, but managed to smile, one hand on the car as she lurched around to the driver’s side. “Glad I could help.”

The doctor followed her, shaking his head. “You can’t leave.”

“Afraid I can. Right now, no questions asked.” She pulled out her cell phone and pretended to dial. “Remember my sister, the FBI agent? I forgot to mention that she’s waiting for me down the road, and if I don’t show up, she’ll be coming after me with a few fellow agents.” It was a complete lie, of course.

“No, you can’t leave, because you’re bleeding. You may have a head injury, ma’am.” Frowning, the doctor leveled his penlight at Jess’s face.

She blinked. “
I’m
bleeding? But it was his blood I felt.”

“Take care of her first, damn it.” The man on her fender turned up the collar of his jacket. “We need her conscious to answer questions.”

Jess tried to protest, but something funny was happening in her chest. The Jeep seemed to sway sharply.

“Ma’am?”

Jess swallowed as the ground dipped. “Y-Yes?”

The doctor grabbed her arms and pushed her back against the driver’s-side door. “You’re sheet-white, and I think you’re in shock.”

“No, I’m fine.” Jess watched fog trail across the road and wondered why the drifting strands made her dizzy.

“You can’t drive anywhere until I’ve checked you out.” The doctor had two fingers on her wrist, his eyes narrowed. “Take a deep breath.”

Jess complied, which made her feel more light-headed than ever. “Okay, but I’m going as soon as you’re done.”

The doctor leaned down beside her, brushing some kind of swab over her forehead.

“You’ve got quite a bump, along with some bleeding. You must have hit something when you stopped the car. Your arm has a gash, too, I see.”

Jess looked down, surprised to find blood on the sleeve of her sweater. Maybe she had hit the window or the dash. Funny, but she couldn’t remember.

“I’ll clean you up, but you need to come back to the hotel with us.” The doctor continued to work on her forehead, unruffled and thoroughly professional.

“I can’t go back to the hotel. I’ve already turned in my report, so it won’t be safe.” Jess focused on the doctor’s head, which was slowly morphing into two separate images.

The man on the fender sat up, looking at her with sudden interest. “What report?”

“Never mind,” Jess snapped.

“You two can sort this out later. For now you both need to rest.”

“I’m not staying. No way.” Jess staggered to her feet, shoving at the doctor’s hands. “He’s fine now. So am I.” She knew something about legal procedure following a car crash. You couldn’t leave the scene of an accident without rendering aid and complying fully with any requests from the police or investigating authorities.

But where
were
the police?

She frowned at the doctor. “Why aren’t the authorities here yet? I need to give them a statement.”

“No police.” The man on her fender looked at the doctor and shook his head.

Warning lights flashed in Jess’s head. Why was he so anxious to avoid the police? If he was a spy, maybe she shouldn’t have tried so hard to save him.

The doctor cleared his throat. “We’ll discuss police statements and determination of fault later. Right now both of you are getting in that van. Then we’re heading to the hotel so I can do a complete workup. Are either of you experiencing shortness of breath, blurred vision, or headaches?”

Jess shook her head. The man on her fender grunted a
no.

“What about chest pains or dizziness?”

“We’ll both live,” the man said grimly.

“He’s right.” Jess leaned around the hood of the car. She wanted a better look at the motorcycle rider in case he made later claims of severed limbs or cerebral hemorrhage. In the headlights of the doctor’s van he looked pale, and the dark bruise at his forehead made her feel a moment’s contrition. Going back to the hotel was exactly what he needed. If she trusted him, Jess would have gone along with him willingly.

But everything about the man felt wrong. In addition, she had her filed report to worry about.

“You better get moving, Doctor. He doesn’t look so good.”

A gust of wind struck her face. She shivered as more rain began to fall. She decided to drive only a mile before she stopped to let her head clear.

Just far enough to escape her pursuer.

He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. Jess rubbed her neck, which had begun to ache. Actually he had the kind of hard jaw and rugged features that some women might find intriguing.

Not
her.

She swayed a little, gulping in cold air.

“Are you going to faint?” He sounded disgusted.

“Me?” Jess laughed, hands on her hips. What kind of a lightweight did the man take her for? She
never
fainted.

She walked around the car, one hand on the fender, determined to tell him precisely what she thought of him and his nasty mouth and his bad driving, but her head throbbed and suddenly she couldn’t shape her words into sentences.

Then she swayed, toppling straight forward, her face buried in his lap.

chapter
5

H
alf an hour later, Hawk’s medical examination was finished.

He was in fair shape, all things considered, and the blood on his jacket wasn’t his own. It belonged to the walking, talking ball of bad luck and ill will who was now asleep in the bedroom next door.

Just his rotten luck.

He was working under a tight deadline on a critical mission, and now he’d stumbled into the path of a crazy woman.

He frowned down at his chest as he wrapped a big elastic bandage across his ribs, then fastened it securely.

“No stunt diving or skateboarding, Lieutenant Mackenzie.” The young doctor sent to take care of Hawk looked as if he’d seen everything. “Tomorrow you go for X rays.”

“Sure,” Hawk muttered.
Like hell he would.

The doctor’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “I’ve got to admit, the woman has style. She did a perfect swan dive right onto your crotch. Some men might enjoy that experience.”

Hawk said one short phrase that made the doctor raise an eyebrow. Hawk had had enough problems for one lifetime involving Elena Grimaldi—or whatever her real name was.

“And don’t get yourself mowed down by any more out-of-control vehicles.”

“You get paid for medical advice like that, Doc?” Hawk shrugged on his shirt, wincing a little.

“Damn straight I do. And since you’re determined to be a smart-ass, remember that you could have been killed tonight. That new prototype safety helmet you were using saved your hide. So did your skill handling that motorcycle of yours.”

“It wasn’t just me and the helmet,” Hawk said tightly. “The woman had the right moves. That van was way out of its lane, and she had no other choice but to hit the shoulder. I tried to avoid her, but then I spun out on an oil slick. If she hadn’t cleared out of my way when she did, I’d be steak tartare decorating her tires.”

“Then I guess you owe her an apology. Meanwhile, I see no sign of any new damage to your ribs, but don’t push it, Lieutenant. You’re walking a thin line here. The new medication seems to be doing its job, but if you sustain further trauma . . .”

He didn’t finish.

“Message received.” Hawk checked his watch. “I wonder what’s keeping Izzy. You could set the atomic clock by him.”

The doctor shook his head at the sound of knocking. “The man is definitely spooky.” Picking up his medical bag, he checked the peephole. “Denzel Washington, in the flesh,” he muttered, opening the door.

The man in the doorway did bear a striking resemblance to Denzel Washington, except his eyes were older and harder. “Sorry I’m late.” He studied Hawk intently. “You still alive, Mackenzie?”

“Barely.” Hawk finished buttoning his shirt as the doctor quietly left. “You didn’t have to come, Teague. The doctor said I’m good to go.”

“I like to do my own site assessments.” Ishmael Teague surveyed the hotel room and then positioned a leather briefcase on the nearby desk. “Where’s our mystery woman?”

“Fast asleep next door. She banged her head when she hit me. The doctor said she could be in some pain when she wakes up.”

“If so, we’ll deal with it.” Izzy shot the locks on his briefcase and pulled out a manila folder. “I’ve gone over your digitals from the cliff. The print came from an expensive British-made boot sold exclusively in Europe and via the Internet. I’ve gone through channels to request a list of all purchases made in the last two years, but that could take several weeks.”

“So the print was a dead end,” Hawk said irritably.

“Not exactly.” Izzy pulled a sleek laptop out of the briefcase. “While we’re waiting for their list, I figured I’d hack into their server and have a look.”

“Highly illegal, my friend.”

“It would be if they ever found out. Their encryption wouldn’t have stopped my ten-year-old nephew,” he said in disgust. “I found out there were nineteen U.S. sales in the last two years, and I’m running down the names now.”

“You can add this to the mix.” Hawk put his plastic evidence bag on the desk. “I picked up this piece of gum right before the accident. It was on the ground near the last set of tracks.”

“So we may have a DNA sample. Nice work, Mackenzie. I’ll run it through some tests as soon as I’m done here.”

As Izzy’s fingers skimmed his keyboard, Hawk walked over to the big window overlooking the coast. Lights bobbed up and down on a fishing trawler steaming slowly north, where clouds huddled on the horizon like listless sheep.

“I want to go back for one more look tomorrow. I still can’t shake this hunch that they’re nearby, Izzy. After that I’m mapping all residents in a five-mile radius of the cliff. Somebody out there may have noticed something that night.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Izzy glanced at the file on the screen. “Here are all the people who purchased those boots. We’re checking them against existing criminal and terrorist databases.”

“Names are good, but how long until you get pictures?”

“Tomorrow. My people are paying a visit to everyone on the list, just to narrow things down.”

“You mean, in case they’re sick or dead.”

Izzy nodded. “Never skip the one-on-one, because that’s where you find the reliable intel.” His eyes narrowed. “What happened out there tonight?”

“Bad weather, bad visibility and bad luck. The woman did all she could to avoid hitting me.”

“Too bad she didn’t succeed. How’s the pain?”

“I’ll survive.” Hawk stabbed a hand through his hair. “Look, let’s skip all the touchy-feely stuff.”

“No can do, pal. If something happens to you, it’s my ass in the sling.”

“I’m holding it together, Teague. There won’t be any unnecessary risks. You have my word on that.”

Izzy frowned at the door to the neighboring room. “Any lawsuits or publicity right now would be devastating. So what the hell are we going to do with Cinderella?”

“We could get her shipped off to a reality TV show in Tahiti,” Hawk said grimly. “She’ll mow down her opponents before they guess what hit them.”

“That bad? What about her sister, the FBI agent?”

Hawk shrugged. “Probably a lie. She was a little hysterical at that point.”

“You sure she’s still asleep?”

“Check for yourself.”

Izzy walked quietly to the bedroom door and peered inside. Suddenly his body stiffened. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“
She’s
what’s wrong. I mean, what are the odds?” Izzy turned slowly. “She wasn’t lying, Mackenzie. Her sister
is
an FBI agent, and a damned good one.”

“How do you know—”

“Because I worked with her on my last assignment. And the woman lying on the bed in there is unmistakably her twin sister. Cinderella’s real name is Jess Mulcahey.”

“You trust her sister?”

“Yeah, I trust her. But she’s not going to like finding out that Jess is anywhere near a government operation.”

“I don’t get it. If her real name’s Jess Mulcahey, why the Elena Grimaldi business?”

“Beats me.” Izzy paced the room slowly. “I found the name listed in the on-line hotel registry. It turns out that she’s visited over twenty other hotels in this chain over the last six months. The whole thing’s damned peculiar.”

“If you think that’s peculiar, you should have seen her worn-out sneakers next to the pink silk suit she had hanging in her closet. I’m no expert on women’s clothes, but the combination seemed weird.”

“I’ll ask her sister for details when I call.” Izzy sat down in a big leather chair and steepled his fingers. “Any problems from the accident?”

Hawk turned away, prowling restlessly. “I’m fine, just like I told the doctor.”

“No new side effects from the medicine?”

“None.”

“Blurred vision or dizziness?”

“There’s nothing, Teague.”

“I wish I could believe you, but I can’t. I spoke to your medical team tonight, and they’ve got some bad news.”

“Don’t tell me. Blindness, convulsions, and death,” Hawk said irritably. “I’ve got a week to live.”

“Funny. But you
can
expect some major headaches.” Izzy frowned. “The headaches will get worse, too.”

“Damn, can’t you bring any good news?” Hawk kept his tone light. Since his headaches had already become more frequent, this latest information wasn’t a total surprise.

“What else?”

Izzy rubbed his neck.

“Spill it, Teague.”

“They’re talking about pulling you.”

Damn the whole lot of them.
“I’m fit and able. Pulling me would be a mistake.”

“Exactly what I said in my last report.” Izzy drummed his fingers on the desk. “You’ve got twelve hours more, then I’m to reassess your capacity.” Izzy tossed Hawk a bottle of pills. “Meanwhile, the geniuses at HQ said to give you these.”

“More experimental stuff?” Hawk shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He started to toss the bottle back, but Izzy glared at him.

“Keep them, damn it. When you need them, take them. Otherwise you’re out of this mission.”

Hawk shoved the pills into his pocket and turned back to the window, his shoulders stiff.

“What about the other symptoms?” Izzy said quietly.

“Hell, Teague, can’t a man have any privacy?”

“Not when you’re on a mission, as you well know.” Izzy closed his laptop. “I was trained as a medic, remember? I’m fully briefed on the action of the new medications they’ve put you on. But I need to know if the problems are getting worse.”

Hawk put his hands on the window, angry and knowing he shouldn’t be. “You want the gritty details? You want me to tell you I feel juiced up like an out-of-control fifteen-year-old with sweaty palms and a hammering pulse?”

“So your sex drive is affected because of the growth factors?”

“Hell, my sex drive is through the roof, Teague. The damned meds make me eat, breathe, and sleep with sex on the brain.” Hawk laughed harshly. “Being in pain is about the only thing that keeps me balanced. And now if we’re done with the medical interrogation—”

“Done. For now,” Izzy said coolly. “If things progress beyond your control—”

“They won’t.” Hawk glared out at the rain. “I’m not fifteen, and nothing pushes me where I don’t want to go.”

“Glad to hear it. In that case, I’ll get this gum back to the lab for analysis.” Izzy closed his briefcase and studied Hawk. “I meant what I said about the headaches. If your symptoms turn severe, diminishing your field capacity, you are to report that fact immediately. Is that understood?”

Hawk rolled his shoulders and gave a noncommittal grunt.

“I’m waiting for a clear answer.”

“
Yes,
damn it.”

“Are you wearing the brace, Lieutenant?”

Hawk turned from the window and yanked up his shirt. “Right here.” Irritated, he tugged at the heavy elastic bands. “Even if it does feel like sh—”

Fabric rustled at the bedroom door. Both men looked up as Jess appeared, her face pale and a purple streak at her forehead. “He called you
lieutenant.
”

“Ma’am, you should be—”

Her eyes were very dark as she studied the long bruises on Hawk’s chest. “Lieutenant? In what branch of the service?

“It doesn’t matter,” Hawk snapped.

“Tell me.”

“He’s Navy.” Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all you need to know.