by LENA DIAZ,
“I could have helped you,” she insisted. “When did you get shot?” She reached past him, tore the plastic bag open that she’d carried in and dumped out a pair of jeans, a shirt, and miraculously, a pair of tennis shoes that looked like they just might fit.
She grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and tossed it over his lap. Then she began tugging at the fastenings on his hospital gown, apparently intent on helping him change clothes. He wondered just how far she’d go with that, and he couldn’t seem to dredge up any desire to refuse her help.
She pulled the gown off and pitched it on the countertop. “Well? When did you get shot?”
He had a feeling if he told her he’d gotten shot just as they’d reached the woods after running from the house, that she’d never let him hear the end of it. He decided a vague reply was the safer route. “I’m not really sure. It didn’t even hurt.”
Actually, it had hurt like hell, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
She rolled her eyes and helped him slide his arms into the clean shirt. “I’m sure that it did. I don’t buy for one second that you don’t know when you were hit.” She stepped back, apparently deciding he could button his own shirt, and raked her hands through her hair.
“I’m tougher than I look,” she said. “I don’t want you giving up your Kevlar vest for me and running into a firefight. And if I’d known you were injured, I could have helped, somehow. I could have dressed the wound to make sure you didn’t lose too much blood, for one thing. I have enough on my conscience without adding you to the list.”
“Like what?” He didn’t bother with the top two buttons on his shirt. He grabbed the fresh jeans and lifted a leg to put them on.
Heather’s eyes widened and she whirled around. “What do you mean, like what?” she asked.
Nick smiled at her sudden nervousness and tossed the blanket back on the bed to make it easier to pull on his pants. “You said you had enough on your conscience. Like what, for instance?”
He pulled the clean jeans on, wincing when they tugged on his stitches. The fact that he was partly turned on from ogling Heather’s breasts and staring at her curvy backside didn’t help with the snug fit. He was extra slow and careful with the zipper, since he was forced to go commando.
She threw her hands in the air. “What do I have on my conscience? Really? Everything! Mark being hurt. You being hurt. And Lily, God knows it’s my fault she’s in this mess.”
Nick stilled. “What do you mean it’s your fault?”
She peeked over her shoulder, as if to make sure nothing was exposed that shouldn’t be before turning around to face him.
Good grief, the woman was adorable. She acted as if she’d never seen him naked before. Then again, they’d only slept together once, the night before the raid on the club. And speaking for himself, one time with the little firecracker wasn’t enough, not even close. It would have to be, of course, which meant he’d probably spend the rest of his life wanting her and wondering what could have been.
That thought had his mood taking a dive south.
He grabbed his wallet from the tray and shoved it into his pants pocket. “How is it your fault that Lily’s in this mess?” he repeated.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Nick called out. He didn’t miss the look of relief that crossed Heather’s face. He made a mental note to ask her that question again later, when they were alone.
Chuck and Tanner stepped inside.
“About ready?” Tanner asked.
“Just about.” Nick sat back on the bed and grabbed the pair of shoes. “How’s Mark doing?”
“He’s still in surgery,” Chuck said. “But the doctor said his prognosis is good. We’ll keep agents guarding his room until he’s stable enough to be transferred to a Miami hospital.”
Heather stepped forward and pushed Nick’s hands away. She grabbed one of his shoes and gently slid it onto his foot. He stared at her in surprise. It had been hurting like crazy trying to bend down to put his shoes on, so he appreciated her help. But he couldn’t fathom why she was being so nice and concerned after he’d left her in jail all weekend. He owed her an apology, at the least, and here she was trying to take care of him.
He thanked her and forced his attention back to Tanner. “Did you find the men who were after us?”
“Not yet, but we did find the police car. It was stolen right out of a parking lot earlier tonight. Pretty bold. And it proves this whole thing was planned. Nothing spur-of-the-moment about it, that’s for sure.”
Heather finished tying Nick’s shoes and stepped back. “How will I know the real cops from the fake cops when I go back to my motel?”
“You’re not going back to that motel,” Nick said. “Gonzalez’s men will be watching, hoping you’ll return.”
“But my suitcase, my clothes—”
“We’ve got that covered, ma’am,” Tanner spoke up. “We’ve already had someone pick up your things. And as soon as the police release the crime scene at the house you rented,” he said, addressing Nick, “we’ll get your stuff from the house. But that might be a while. In the meantime, give me a list of what you’ll need and I’ll send someone to a store to get it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I assume you’ll put Heather and me up at a hotel in town tonight?”
At Chuck’s nod, he continued. “You said the police are processing the scene. Were they able to identify the men I shot in the woods behind the house? And the one Heather shot in the garage?”
Heather shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist. She might think she was tough, and maybe she was, but obviously the idea of shooting someone—no matter how much they deserved it—didn’t sit right with her. Nick hated that she’d had to experience that. No matter how many times he was forced into that kind of situation, it still ate at him every time he had to hurt someone or take a life. Heather wasn’t in law enforcement. She hadn’t signed up for that kind of burden. Waverly and Rickloff deserved a special place in hell for using her and abandoning her when she needed their protection.
Tanner and Chuck stared at him in surprise. “Are you saying you shot someone? Both of you?”
“Yes,” Nick answered slowly, studying them both. “I shot two men back in town who were trying to kill Mark. I shot three more in the woods and Heather shot one in the garage. It’s possible they weren’t all killed and some of them got away before the police got there.” He glanced back and forth between them. “Are you telling me no one found any bodies?”
Tanner shook his head. “Not a one. They did find blood in the garage, but they figured it was Mark’s. How certain are you that you actually hit anyone?”
Nick crossed his arms, insulted they’d even asked. “I never miss.”
“Neither do I,” Heather said, crossing her arms as well and looking just as insulted as Nick felt.
Tanner motioned to Chuck, who nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket as he stepped out of the room.
“We’ll notify the police to make another sweep, see if they can find a blood trail in the woods. But that may not be possible until daylight.”
“Put the hospital on alert for gunshot victims and make sure they notify the DEA if anyone comes in for treatment,” Nick said.
Tanner nodded. “Will do. We’ve already set up hotel rooms for the night under some aliases. You two will be in a two-bedroom suite. Chuck and I will be in the room next door, just a phone call away or a knock on the wall if you need us. Tomorrow morning we’ll take you to our office. Our boss wants to debrief you on everything that happened.”
“Have you spoken to Waverly or Rickloff?” Nick asked.
“We spoke to Rickloff. He claims there was a miscommunication, a mix-up about the name of the bar. He claims his men wanted to provide backup but didn’t know where to
go.”
“A miscommunication?” Nick said. “That’s what they call it these days?”
“Call what?” Heather asked.
Incompetence. Actually, he was beginning to wonder if Heather’s original suspicions about Rickloff were right, that he might be working for Gonzalez. But he wasn’t going to air that thought in front of fellow agents without facts to back it up.
“Never mind,” he said, in response to Heather’s question. He eyed Tanner. “Since this is the only hospital in Key West and the men who tried to kill us know we grabbed Mark, it’s a pretty safe bet they’ll assume we’re here, too. I bet they’ve already got someone watching this place. We can’t just walk out the front doors.”
“We can take you through the ambulance bay.”
Nick shook his head. “Not good enough. This was a well-planned attack with plenty of manpower and a cleanup crew, or else you’d have found the bodies.” He slid a glance at Heather. “They didn’t get what they came for. You. So I’m betting they’re not going to just say forget it. They’ll be worried we’ll go into hiding, so they won’t want to miss us leaving the hospital. They’ll watch everyone who comes in or out.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Heather glanced worriedly back and forth.
“Does this hospital have a medevac helicopter?” Nick asked.
Tanner shook his head. “No. When we have trauma cases, Ryder Trauma Center in Miami sends their chopper to airlift the victims. That’s an hour out, and they won’t send the medevac for something like this.” He grinned and pulled his phone out. “But I do know where we can get a chopper.”
* * *
HEATHER TUCKED THE last of her hair up underneath the ball cap and critically inspected her reflection in the hospital bathroom mirror. The T-shirt hugged her chest almost indecently. And the jeans were snug, too. The nurse who gave Heather her clothes had been just a little smaller than Heather. The sneakers were tight, too, but at least she wouldn’t trip over her own feet when she ran outside. Would Gonzalez’s men recognize her in this outfit? It certainly didn’t conceal much, other than her hair.
“Heather,” Nick’s deep voice called through the door. “The chopper’s a minute out. We need to hurry.”
She tugged at her T-shirt, trying to stretch it out some more, but gave up. She sighed and opened the bathroom door.
Nick stood in the opening. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You’re not going to fool anyone in that outfit, even with the ball cap,” he said, his voice oddly tight.
“What choice do I have?”
“I’ll grab you a lab coat on the way out.”
He’d been luckier than her at getting clothes that fit. He’d rolled the sleeves of the dress shirt up to his elbows, giving him a rakish, sexy appeal that had Heather clutching her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. No one should look that good after the horrible night they’d just experienced.
Thinking about the men possibly watching the hospital, she shivered. The night and all its dangers were far from over.
Whump. Whump. Whump. The sound of the helicopter’s blades sounded overhead.
Nick automatically glanced up, as if he could see the helicopter through the ceiling. “Chopper’s here. Let’s go.”
Heather stepped out of the bathroom, her borrowed sneakers painfully squeezing her feet.
“This way.” Nick led her out the door and down the hall to their left.
They could hear the sound of excited voices coming from the front of the hospital. Having a helicopter touch down in the parking lot was definitely not the norm. The DEA agents had cleared the lot right in front of the emergency room doors to make space for the chopper.
“Come on,” Nick urged, pulling Heather with him to the exit. “We have to time this just right.” He held the door open, and Heather ran with him outside, to the parking lot out back.
Less than a minute later, Nick drove their borrowed car down the side road next to the hospital. Heather leaned over in the passenger seat to look out Nick’s window. “Fake Nick” and “fake Heather,” both DEA agents from the Key West office, wearing exactly what Nick and Heather had been wearing when they got to the hospital, ran out of the emergency room doors and into the waiting chopper—a chopper that had Bubba’s Seafood written on the side.
That explained Tanner’s grin when he said he could get a helicopter.
Heather wouldn’t have believed for one second that the shirtless man pretending to be Nick was really Nick. Nick’s abs were much more defined and his biceps were twice as big.
“Do you think we fooled Gonzalez’s men?” she asked.
“I sure as hell hope so.” Nick punched the accelerator and the car leaped forward.
Chapter Eight
A knock on the hotel room door had Nick waving Heather into the first bedroom. He drew his gun and leaned back against the wall.
“Who is it?” he called out.
“Tanner.”
Nick leaned over and looked through the peephole before unlocking the door. Tanner hurried inside and Nick locked the door behind him.
Heather stepped out from the bedroom without waiting for Nick to give the all clear. He barely resisted the urge to remind her of condition number two as he holstered his gun. The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the other agent. But she was going to have to learn to be more careful. What would she have done if it hadn’t been Tanner at the door?
He shook his head and waved Tanner over to the couch.
“How did it go?” Nick asked.
“Hard to say. We didn’t notice any vehicle activity on the ground when the chopper took off, other than your car leaving the hospital. The agents tailing you didn’t see anyone else following. I’m not sure what to think. Either Gonzalez didn’t have anyone watching and we went totally overboard getting that chopper—which, I might add, is going to be fun to explain on my next expense report—or he’s a lot smarter than I thought.”
“I’ve never met the man in person, but I’ve met plenty who have while I was building my undercover identity this past year,” Nick said. “He’s got a reputation for being on top of things and isolating himself behind layers of front men. If his thugs were the ones after Heather and me, I guarantee they were watching the hospital.”
Heather plopped down on the opposite couch. “If? What are you saying? That Gonzalez might not have been the one who went after us?”
“I’m just open to all possibilities until proven otherwise,” Nick said. “Tanner, have your men interviewed any witnesses who saw the shoot-out near the bar?”
“We’re still canvassing that area. No witnesses yet, but that’s no surprise in that part of town. The drug trade has a wrap on that area.”
“What about my sister?” Heather asked. “Has there been any word about her? Other than the note from the men who abducted her, I haven’t heard anything. I don’t even know if...if she’s alive.”
“I’m new to this case,” Tanner said. “Can’t say that I really have much background, other than what Nick gave me in the hospital. But I can tell you that your sister and Gonzalez have been an item for quite some time. If it makes you feel better, I seriously doubt he’ll hurt her if he can avoid it. That’s not what he wants at all. The fact that he went after you with so much manpower, and that he didn’t even seem interested in the duffel bag of drugs, tells me he’s trying to make a public statement. And stealing a police car on top of everything else, well, that’s definitely out of character for him. He doesn’t normally tangle directly with law enforcement. He’s got too much to lose.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” she said.
Nick scooted forward on the couch opposite from her and rested his forearms on his knees. “What Tanner is saying is that i
f Lily were dead, Gonzalez would have no reason to go after you. The fact that he did go after you is a good indication that he’s still trying to figure out a way to save face and prove that he’s still in control of his empire. Plus, if he killed Lily, he’d dump her body...”
He cursed his poor choice of words when Heather blanched and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just trying to say that if your sister was dead, we’d know about it. Gonzalez wouldn’t try to hide what he’d done. Just the opposite. He’d want everyone to know that the woman who’d stolen from him had paid the ultimate price, as a warning to others.”
She nodded, some of the color returning to her face. “I hope you’re right, that she’s unharmed.”
Nick exchanged a glance with Tanner. The worried expression on Tanner’s face told Nick they were both thinking the same thing.
Lily might not be dead, but “unharmed” was a stretch.
Even if Gonzalez eventually let Lily go, a man like him wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his mistress had stolen from him, which was exactly what Nick’s informants had basically confirmed when he’d arrived this morning. The rumor was that Lily had gotten into a fight with Gonzalez and took off with the kilos.
Nick figured the odds were about seventy-thirty that Lily had already experienced Gonzalez’s wrath, and that her suffering wasn’t going to end until—if—she was rescued.
* * *
HEATHER WAS STILL exhausted the next morning when Nick dragged her out of bed at the unholy hour of seven o’clock. But fear for her sister had her quickly showering and getting dressed without complaint. They’d rushed over to the Key West DEA office, and now she was sitting in the lobby, doing nothing but watching the seconds on the clock tick by while Nick met with Dante Messina, the special agent in charge.