by Tracy Sharp
Jack looked down at Mark Mandell and sighed heavily. “Well, that sucks. Now we’ll never get to scare the bastard into telling us what we need to know.”
I sighed. “Damn.” Whoever killed him was long gone. I turned toward the open door of the garage and looked out at the snowy driveway. Felt chilled down to the bone. This was the case that just kept getting weirder. I turned back toward Jack and shrugged. “There’s still Adrian.”
“Yeah. I guess she’ll have to do.”
“So who do you think shot him?”
“Somebody he pissed off, clearly.”
I barked out a laugh. “That narrows it down.”
He turned his green gaze to mine. “We’ll narrow it down, Kicks. We always do.”
* * *
We’d barely made it back to the truck before Jack’s cell rang. He dug it out of his jacket. Looked down at the number. “It’s Lucas.”
A slight pang hit me in the gut. He was calling Jack instead of me. It stung, but it was for the best. We needed some distance. I didn’t really want to hear his voice, because I needed to so badly.
“Lucas,” Jack said. His tone was frosty. Lucas wouldn’t notice, but I knew all of Jack’s tones and fluctuations. He wasn’t pleased with Lucas. But we needed him, so he’d be civil.
He listened, his eyes widening. “You’re kidding me.” His voice was almost a whisper, shock radiating through it.
He ended the call, staring at me. “Jamie Holland just shot up Adrian’s new adoption agency.”
I gaped at him. “What?”
“Adrian’s dead,” he breathed.
* * *
We couldn’t get near the agency. Two people had been shot and killed at the agency. Adrian Mandell and the receptionist. She’d worked for them for fifteen years. I could see how Jamie might’ve held her at least partially responsible for the death of her son.
Lucas was speaking with one of the police officers on the scene. When he saw us approach, he lowered his head and made his way toward us.
“Not pretty,” he said, glancing up at me.
“Gee, thanks. And after I’ve been so sweet to you,” I said.
He offered a small smile then looked away from me.
“Right,” I said, clearing my throat. “Clearly. Jamie held a bit of a grudge, it seems.”
“Jamie says she didn’t kill Mark.”
“What?” Jack said.
I frowned.
Jack and I looked at each other.
We had a pretty good idea who did kill Mark.
We also knew that she’d be long gone by now.
Hailey Jacobs.
* * *
“Kicks, you’re not looking so hot.”
“I’m not feeling so hot,” I said, watching Lucas walk away, his long coat billowing around his legs. Beautiful legs.
I turned to go but stopped, bending down, hands on my thighs. I tried to catch my breath.
“I’m taking you to the urgent care, Leah. Right now.”
“No—” the rest of my response was cut off by my stomach pushing its contents out onto the snow.
“Ah, Jesus, Leah,” Jack said, hand on my back. “Can you stop being stubborn for just enough time to get you better? Please?”
The urgency in his voice made me reconsider. I nodded. Wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood. “Okay. You win.”
We were lucky. There were only two people ahead of us. I was in and out of there with a prescription for antibiotics in no time. The jolly Swedish doctor examined me and then looked into my eyes, shaking his head.
“You’re very sick, you know this?”
“I know this,” I breathed. My head swam.
“You should’ve come sooner,” he said, scribbling on a pad.
“I know. My friend made me.”
“You’ve got a good friend there. Good friends are hard to find.”
“You got that right,” I said.
“Okay. Antibiotics for the infection,” he said, handing the small square of paper to Jack. “Ears, throat and chest. Take her straight home after the drug store.” He turned to me. “You need to go straight home and go to bed. Stay in bed for a few days. Okay? You need rest.”
I nodded. Saluted him.
Jumped off the table and swayed. “Whoa.”
“Your equilibrium is off because of this bad ear infection. That’s why you need to stay in bed. Or on the couch. No running around or dancing. Okay?”
“No dancing. I can promise you that,” I said.
“I might have to tie her down to keep her still,” Jack said.
I cracked a grin at him. Waggled my eyebrows.
He blushed before he chuckled and shook his head. “You wish, Kicks. Come on, let’s get you home.”
* * *
We stopped at a drugstore on the way home. Jack made me stay in the truck. I didn’t argue. He locked the doors and kept the radio running for me. With half-closed eyes, I watched people going in and coming out of the drugstore. Felt as if I were floating. Closed my eyes.
I was vaguely aware of Jack slamming the truck door. I dozed all the way home, and was half-delirious with fever by the time we got there. I woke up when the truck stopped in my drive-way. He got out of the truck and came around to the passenger side, helping me out. He kept one arm around me as we made our way to the house.
“I’m fine,” I said, then coughed, stumbling and almost falling into the snow. He caught me, the strength of his huge arms not letting me go far.
“Yeah. You’re in fine form, Kicks. Just shut up and let me help you. And I’m staying the night. Don’t even think of arguing with me. You know better.”
I sighed. “You’re so friggin’ stubborn.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I’m the stubborn one.”
We made it to the house and I dug my house keys out of my zippered jacket pocket. I peered at the keyhole and stabbed at it like a drunk, missing it every time. He took the key from me and unlocked and opened the door.
I hated feeling so weak. Hated. It. I can take almost anything over feeling powerless.
Jack helped me into the house and took my jacket off. He sat me down on one of the kitchen chairs and pulled my boots off for me.
He looked up at me from where he crouched in front of me, shaking his head, but a corner of his mouth was lifted in a grin. “You’re too much, Leah.”
“For every man except you Jack. Why can’t they all be like you? Or how about just one more like you? One I can call my very own. I will hug him and squeeze him, and call him George. . .”
He patted me on the knee. “Okay, Kicks. You’ve ceased making sense. Time to get you into bed.”
“Why are all the boys trying to get me into bed?” My voice sounded tinny in my own ears. “Oh wait…that’s me trying to get them into bed. Never mind.”
“Come on.” He placed an arm around me and one under my knees, lifting me off my feet.
“Ooooh,” I said. But I couldn’t finish the thought. I felt a smile on my face and heard myself giggle. “Nice,” was all I could manage.
“Up to bed with you,” He said, heading down the hall.
“No,” I said. “Couch.”
He stopped, his green eyes scrutinizing my face. “Couch?”
“Yes please.”
He lifted his eyebrows a little and headed for the couch. He gently lowered me onto it and covered me with the quilt that I had draped over the back of it. “Do you have anything here for colds or fever?”
“Medicine cabinet. Lower bathroom.” I looked up at him through half-closed eyes and grinned. “You’re pretty, Jack.”
He tilted his head back and laughed. I loved the sound of that laugh. It made my heart feel light, and went right through me. “Thanks, Kicks. You’re pretty too. I think you know that.”
“Ah, I clean up okay.” I wasn’t sure if I’d said it out loud or not.
“I’ll be right back.” He turned and headed to the bathroom.
He came back wit
h an empty pill bottle, an empty box of cold pills, and an empty cough syrup bottle. “Jesus, Leah. Don’t you ever throw the empty ones out? How are you going to know when you run out?”
“When I shake them and nothing comes out.”
“Right.” He sighed. “I’m running out to the drugstore again to get you some stuff. Do not move, Leah. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I murmured. “I like your voice, Jack.”
I heard him mutter under his breath. It sounded like, “Christ. Now that she’s sick she wants me. Perfect.”
I wanted him when I wasn’t sick, too. I just had never let him know that.
* * *
I opened my eyes to feel Pango licking my hand.
“Hey gorgeous, how you doing’,” I said, my voice sounding like sandpaper and my throat raw. I grimaced, looking for a glass of water. There was none. Shit, I’d have to get up.
Pango gave a small whine. She needed to go out. Her eyes told me that she was sorry to disturb me but this was a situation she couldn’t help. “S’okay, baby. Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”
I slowly pushed myself up and swung my legs off the couch and onto the floor. I swayed for a moment, and then continued walking when I felt steadier on my feet. “This really sucks, girl. You know that?”
I made it to the kitchen and opened the door for her. Cold air blasted in, hitting me in the face. For a moment I couldn’t breathe. She trotted out toward the woods. I stood at the screen door for a moment, leaning my forehead against the cool glass. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t remember feeling so weak and tired.
“Come on, girl,” I murmured, not knowing how much longer I could stay there, leaning against the screen door.
The next moment I found myself falling through it. I fell against something dark and woolen, and then was pushed back into the house, falling backward and onto my back. My head cracked against the floor and everything went white for a second. I lay there blinking, trying to clear my head.
High pitched, hysterical, barking from Pango sounded outside and knew that somebody she didn’t know was in the house with me, and she was still outside. I heard her paws hit the screen door as the inside door was slammed, and the dead bolt turned and clicked into place.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows and saw a boot come toward me just before it hit my chest and slammed me back down onto the floor. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I lay there gasping and coughing, trying to get just a little air in. I squinted against the kitchen light as a head moved in front of it, dark and looming over me. Dark hair and pale skin, and eyes as dark and bottomless as an abandoned well.
“Vicky,” I croaked. “Nice of you to drop in.”
“I’m glad you still have sense of humor, given the situation you’re currently in,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice more than I could see it on her face. My vision suddenly wasn’t working all that well. I was guessing I had at least a slight concussion.
“You don’t look so good, Leah.” She was still smiling, enjoying every second of this.
“Yeah, well, good thing I can take a licking and keep on ticking,” I said, my throat on fire.
The thumping against the door and the panicked, infuriated barking outside told me that Pango wasn’t really happy with the current situation either. She was trying to bust her way in. I hoped she would succeed.
“Your buddy Jack left you all alone,” she said with a smirk in her voice.
Where had he gone? I frantically searched my memory. The only thing keeping me even remotely lucid was the adrenaline pumping through me. “You know, Vicky, if you wanted to be alone with me all you had to do was ask. You’re not really my type, but I’d at least let you buy me a drink.”
“Oh, you’re a funny lady, Leah. Jack will miss you, no doubt.”
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to break down and plead for my life? ‘Cuz I gotta tell you, Chicky, I’ve had my life threatened by much scarier folk than you and lived to tell the tale.”
“But you weren’t sick as a dog at the time, were you? I’m a nurse, Leah. You’re down for the count. High fever. Shivering. Chattering teeth. Probably a case of strep that you’ve ignored for so long that you’re pretty much delusional now. Your body is useless. You’re pretty much done.”
“Thanks for the diagnosis, Vicky. But I think that you’re the delusional one. Oh, and you’re not a nurse. You’re a medical assistant.” I just couldn’t help myself. She was far too calm and gleeful about having me where she wanted me. I was pissed.
She stomped my chest and the pain was so blinding that I rolled over as much as her foot would allow and threw up on the floor.
“Nice,” she said. “I’m taking classes, bitch. I’m almost a nurse.”
I took several deep breaths. “So I’m guessing you’re here to make sure that I don’t blow the whistle on you. Jack and I are really close to throwing your ass in the fire. We know you had something to do with the death of Garrett’s wife, Vicky.”
“So what? You can’t prove a thing.”
“Then why are you here, beating up on a sick person?”
“Because I don’t need you two breathing down my neck. It pisses me off.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. You kill me you’ll have Jack on you like a fly on shit. You won’t be able to make a move without feeling him there. Because he will be there, Vicky. He won’t stop until he has you.”
“I’ll kill him too. I’m not letting anything stand in my way,” she said. “I’ve come too far.”
“Good luck with that. And I’d say you’ve sunk too low, rather than come too far. You’re not even human.”
“Oh, that hurts, coming from you,” she said, looking at me as if I were some disgusting bug she was about to crush.
“Things are not going your way, Vicky. And believe me when I said that things are going to end badly for you. Really … fucking … badly.”
She spit in my face.
“Aw, come on, Vicky, turn that frown upside down. You’ll make lots of new friends at the women’s prison.”
She didn’t speak. Apparently she was beyond furious with me.
This was good. Furious people reacted impulsively and made mistakes. I’d have a chance to knock the shit out of her.
If I could find the strength to get up off the floor.
I wanted to ask her why she’d done it. Why she’d murdered Alexia and her unborn baby. But I knew the answer. It wasn’t about money. It wasn’t that he’d be paying child support and almost certainly a hefty chunk of alimony to Alexia for at least eighteen years, if not more. It was that she wanted Garrett all to herself. She didn’t want the competition.
She stared at me with a blankness that I’d seen before. She was close to finishing me off.
“You think Garrett’s going to want you when he finds out that you’re the one who murdered Alexia and his baby daughter? You’re dreaming.”
“He’ll never know.” Her voice was stone cold.
“Yes. He will. You can’t really believe that you’re not going to get caught for this. You’ve got to know that you’re a suspect. The police will sniff you out.”
“They can sniff all they want.” She shrugged. “It won’t make a difference. And Garrett will never believe them. He loves me.”
I snorted, sending agony through my tonsils. “He lusts for you. Not the same thing, you idiot. He needed a distraction. You were there.” I shook my head, smiling. “Why do women like you always think the man loves them? You’re just another pair of open legs.”
She stomped my chest again and I turned my head and wretched, dry heaving. Nothing but drool came out, oozing to the floor. I promised myself right then and there that this bitch was going to bleed on this floor before the night was through.
And she wasn’t going to stomp my chest again. I turned back so that my shoulders rested on the floor, took a breath, and grabbed at her legs, yanking with every ounce of strength I had in my
body.
She yelped, teetered and swayed for a second before falling backward. I rolled away as her back hit the floor, her gun going off and hitting the ceiling. The back of her head followed with a sickening crack.
I was already up and scrambling for the .45 I keep in the kitchen junk drawer.
I swung around just as she was pushing herself up on one hand and her knees. She still held the gun in the other, and began to lift it.
“Don’t. Move.” My hands shook slightly as I pointed the gun at her, arms outstretched toward her. I wasn’t afraid to shoot her, but I was still feverish and sick as hell. Nausea was moving over me in waves.
“You can’t shoot me.”
“Oh yeah?” I shot her in the shoulder. “Now drop the gun.”
She screamed and fell onto her side. “You bitch!”
“What did you say earlier? Oh yeah, that really hurts, coming from you. Drop the gun. Now.”
“I’m pregnant. That’s why you can’t shoot me, dumbass,” she screamed at me, her face red.
I stared at her. “Bullshit.”
“No. It isn’t,” she said, smirking. “I’m three and a half months pregnant. It’s Garrett’s.”
“Oh, how convenient for you. Money in your hand and all you had to do was screw him for it.”
“It’s not about money you stupid cow.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re soul mates. You belong together. Am I right?”
“Yes. We do. And nobody is going to stop us from being together. Nobody.”
“I think the courts and the New York penal system will beg to differ on that one, sweetheart.”
“You can’t turn me in. My baby needs me.”
“Wrong. Your baby needs a sane mother who isn’t a murderer. Now I won’t tell you again. Drop. The. Gun. Or I will shoot you again.”
She looked at me, weighing her options. There really weren’t many. Kill me or go to jail. I could see in her eyes that she wasn’t intending on ever stepping foot in a prison cell.
And I’d seen that look in Gabriel’s eyes just before he came at me before I shot him dead.
Shit.
She lifted her arm and came at me, fire and insanity in her eyes. She launched herself at me and I pulled the trigger.