“Been working on the plane, so it seems,” Anna said, noticing the wireless card in place.
Tracey climbed into the backseat. “I want one of those things.”
“Does what I need it to on the road,” Phalen told them.
He got the sedan moving, his right hand on the wheel. “Anna, click my email account. See if my little brother sent anything.”
She clicked the email icon. “There’s an unread message from Maddox2.”
“That’s him.”
Anna opened it. Read it, shock making her read it again. “Oh shit, no way! There’s no way.”
Tracey leaned over the seat. “What’s wrong?”
“Seatbelt, Tracey, now,” Phalen ordered.
Tracey fell back, fastening it quickly. “There. What is it, Anna?”
There had to be a mistake. “According to this, in return for her work as a columnist for the Alexandria Journal and the Sentinel, Brenda Jamison was going to get her own show on Frontline’s affiliate All-Sports Network. We thought she’d just resigned. She was after a much bigger market.”
“Doesn’t surprise me, there had to be a reason she tailed Kyran so much. He may have been the backup for Ricky Weathers, but he’s the Griffins powerhouse personality and her bylines about him made the front page.” Phalen spoke while he drove. His eyes were on the road.
An electronic voice spoke to them on the GPS, giving directions.
“She was gossip hungry,” Anna said. “And she’s going to get a show?”
“Read it again, slowly,” Phalen advised.
Anna thought she’d read it that way. “It says she was going to get her own show…wait, was as in past tense. Your brother attached something.”
She opened the attachment. Chills went right down her spine. “Dear God, it’s an obituary notice.” She read it, shocked, sad. “Brenda committed suicide after a rival reporter at the Journal ran a counter article exposing her as a fraud with questionable sources to back up her stories. Kyran and I never saw the article or knew. We didn’t want to buy another Journal.”
“Two suicides, shit.” Phalen grumbled something under his breath.
“People are dying and Kyran’s attacked by a guy with a crowbar, Seville’s threatening to expose private photos of my guy, this is seriously messed up,” Anna surmised, wheels churning in her head.
“And connected,” Phalen pointed out. “If Max Henderson took the photos that Seville sent to you, she might have been his meal ticket. Her cousin coincidentally went to school with us and trailed Kyran when he went to the Griffins.”
“Yet cops are calling me,” Anna said.
On a hunch, she asked for her phone. Phalen let her reach into his coat pocket where he’d shifted it when they got in the car. She called the detective from Baltimore.
“Detective Ron Smith,” he answered.
“Hi, Detective Smith, this is Anna James returning your call. I’m sorry for the delay. I’m on my way to visit my boyfriend, Kyran Black. You’ve been helping him.”
“Yes, yes, thank you for calling, ma’am,” he returned. “Considering the trouble that went down with you and Kyran a few weeks back, I thought you should know that the reporter died.”
“I learned that today,” Anna admitted. “Kyran and I never wished such a thing.”
“That’s not why I wanted to speak with you,” the man said. “During the investigation into her death, we discovered dozens of texts and messages on her phone to someone we believe to be connected to you, Ms. James. I felt you needed to know for your own safety.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“The contact on her phone was Dr. Will Simmons. The calls were made on and off for two weeks before that Journal article came out. We are doubly concerned because this man has disappeared.”
“I was engaged to Will Simmons over two years ago. We called it off. I don’t associate with him much now.”
“He’s on the board for the school system you belong to.”
“Actually, he resigned.”
“Can you come and talk to us, Ms. James? I assure you, you’re not in any trouble.”
“Of course I will, just as soon as I return to Baltimore. I’m in L.A now, heading for Malibu. Kyran comes first, Detective Smith. Surely you’ve seen the news? When I know how he is, we’ll call you.”
Anna ended the call, puzzled. Quickly she told Phalen and Tracey about it.
“Anna, think about what we know,” Phalen advised. “Max Henderson was more hacker than a decent reporter. Kyran told me and Alex about you. Your name is in our records. He could easily have found out info on you and given it to Brenda.”
“Henderson hacked you guys. Why would Brenda research me before I even got together with Kyran?”
“You’d gone out once already, remember, were caught on cam. I’m pretty sure Seville was trying to call him when he went to L.A. over the summer. Maybe Kyran warned her off by telling her he was really into you. She’s got contacts with Max and Brenda, told them to find out who you were.”
“This is crazy, really crazy.”
“If anyone can deal with it, it’s Kyran. You too, Anna,” Phalen complimented her. “I don’t know many who could deal with all this as calmly as you are now.”
“I love him. He’s a good man who’s straightened himself out. He doesn’t need all this on top of what happened to him last night.” Anna didn’t say it. She had the feeling that the result of his heroics to save his ex-girlfriend from an attacker would have ramifications far beyond surgery.
It was his left knee that the guy went for. Anna hated to think his playing career had ended with a swing of a man’s arm and a bar.
“Lucky son of a bitch,” Phalen remarked loud enough for her to hear.
The GPS continued to give directions. Phalen drove through L.A. like he’d done it a hundred times. Traffic sucked, but they reached the outskirts of Malibu safely, turning into the drive leading up to the hospital.
Cleverly designed to take in the hills of Malibu, yet not fall prey to mudslides or beach erosion, the building was ultra modern, high tech and a leading facility for emergency medicine. They parked and went into the main entrance together.
On the news late last night, the camera feed had been of the emergency center. Seville had taken the limelight, then split, the reporters following her.
Anna wasn’t sure how Seville called her from Kyran’s phone. She figured there was an explanation. She’d have to wait and see.
Phalen took over upon their arrival. Charming the front desk clerk, he introduced them all in order. Anna gave the clerk Dr. Ryan Hathaway’s number, insisting that the surgeon requested they come in.
After some finagling, the woman made a phone call. “You may proceed up to orthopedics on the third floor. Dr. Hathaway will meet you at the elevator.”
Anna noticed increased security in the hospital lobby. They had to show some ID to a guard at the elevator. The front desk clerk gave the go-ahead and the guard swiped a key card to let them in.
Being the first to step out on the third floor, Anna almost collided with a gigantic man. Recognizing Griffins center Brian Wolf, she was glad Phalen caught her.
Brian weighed a good three hundred pounds and could move like a running back. He swung around.
“Anna,” he greeted, grinning wide.
“Hi, Brian,” she said. “Didn’t expect to see you in a place like this.”
“Me either,” he replied. “How are your boys doing?”
Brian had been one of the offensive linemen Kyran brought to her school. “They’re getting ready to take on varsity as a fundraiser.”
“You be sure to give me the details. My wife and I will come to the game.”
“I’ll do that,” Anna promised. “Have you seen Kyran yet?”
“None of us have,” Brian answered. “Only Alexander Grant and Derek Billings have been in to see him.”
“He’s not in surgery. His doctor called me.”
“Took a couple hours to repair his knee, from what we’re told.”
“Then you know more than I do,” Anna replied. She introduced Brian to Tracey and Phalen. Phalen shook the center’s hand. “Do you know what happened? All we saw was news footage. Lately, I don’t trust them.”
“The only Griffin player who witnessed it was Ricky,” Brian told them. “He told Detective Noble the same thing that the reporters and Sharks did. They’d come out when they heard Seville shouting, thought she needed rescuing from Kyran and Ricky. A man came down the hall before a fight broke out, looking like he’d attack Seville Davis. Guy was drugged or something, charged through the Sharks like they were Pop Warner or something. Kyran stepped into his path with a kick. The suspect shouted what sounded like ‘Anna’ and struck his knee. How he got in through security is still being investigated. The fight Seville provoked distracted everyone enough to let him reach Kyran.”
“No, that’s crazy. I mean, professional athletes shouldn’t be fighting like that,” Anna whispered.
“Yeah, you’d think so. Sometimes the heat of a game or pregame smack talk causes trouble, news hounds love it. Think they’ll get ratings, I guess. We’re lucky that they came out of the locker room. The Sharks players finally subdued the guy and held him ’til security got there.”
“Who was the man?”
The elevator opened behind them all.
“Police aren’t giving out his name yet,” Brian said, frowning at the person in the elevator and moving to stand in front of Anna. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Anna knew. She looked back.
Seville stepped out. “I’m here to take care of Kyran. He needs me.”
What surprised Anna was that Seville didn’t notice anyone around her. The model’s eyes were on Brian. There was coldness in her eyes, a sort of madness, that wouldn’t let her see that she was not welcome.
Today she wore designer jeans, ungodly ugly platform heels and some kind of slinky gold top with tassels on it. Seville made it look like a million bucks. The shoes made her nearly as tall as Anna. Her hair was long, straight, golden blonde. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of purple thanks to contacts.
“Ma’am, you’ve been told to stay away from the hospital,” someone warned, coming up fast. A hospital security guard barred Seville from getting around him. “Go or I’ll have you taken into custody.”
“Do you know who I am?” she countered, again flashing that ring she loved so much. “Kyran gave me this!”
Anna saw red. “You will go nowhere near him,” she ordered, stepping around Brian like she owned the world. “He’s mine.”
At the same time, an elevator dinged. Doors opened, an ER team rushing in. “Ma’am, you came in complaining of chest pains. Let us take you back downstairs to trauma,” a nurse insisted in Seville’s direction.
The model blanched, looked left to right and screamed, pointing at Anna. “It’s her fault. Hers and her fucked-up boyfriend! She knows him. You hear? She’s the one who should be banned.” And she passed out.
Phalen kept her from crashing to the floor. Nurses rushed to assist.
A man wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat came out from a room way down the hall. He saw the commotion and jogged forward. He bent, checked Seville. He whispered something to the closest nurse. The woman nodded and went to the nurse’s station.
Seville opened her eyes, blinking and rolling her head back and forth.
“He’s always been mine,” she cried with huge tears rolling down her cheeks.
Anna didn’t buy the drama queen act. Not for a second. Still, the staff couldn’t ignore her. The efficient medical team had her on a gurney in less than thirty seconds, wheeling her away.
“Ms. James?” the doctor said to Anna.
“Yes.”
He offered his hand. “I’m Dr. Hathaway. Can you follow me? I’m afraid your friends will have to stay here.”
Anna looked at Phalen and Tracey. They nodded. “Of course,” she agreed, following the surgeon.
He was average in height, looked about thirtyish, but was male model handsome with dark brown hair that was just turning gray at the temples. He was fit too. He either played a lot of golf or he worked out in a gym.
“Dr. Hathaway, can you please tell me what that was about back there?”
“Not really sure,” he admitted. “Kyran specifically requested to see you and told Griffins security and hospital security to keep Seville Davis away from him.”
“She’s not all there,” Anna confided. “I’m sorry, that’s not very nice of me to say.”
“I ordered her to be taken back to the ER for evaluation and tests. She’s faking to stay in the hospital. But at least we’ll all know where she is and she can’t cause trouble for a while.”
“You didn’t ask for my ID or anything,” Anna noted, surprised.
“Based on Kyran’s description of you while on painkillers, I couldn’t mistake you for anyone else. He’s awake and anxious to see you.”
“He’s medicated now?”
“Morphine drip to be eased off by the end of the day. A broken patella isn’t life threatening, but it requires surgical repair and it’ll hurt for a while.” The doctor stopped in front of a door. To Anna, he looked a little young for a surgeon, but the way he carried himself reflected the confidence required for using a scalpel. “With the appropriate care and PT, he’ll recover. We’ll keep his knee immobile for three to five weeks, then get that PT started.”
“The cops arrested the man who did this. What happened to him?”
“They still have the suspect in custody. Kyran wanted you to get here before he talked to the detective working the case.”
Dr. Hathaway opened the door, gesturing for Anna to precede him. She went inside the giant private hospital room. Tucked slightly out of sight from the door, Kyran reclined on a bed, hooked up to all kinds of medical machines and IVs. His leg was elevated on pillows and a fancy, heavy Velcro brace immobilized his left knee from thigh to calf. His hair was hanging in all directions and his eyes bore dark purple bruises.
Sitting partially up in a hospital gown and sheets that covered all but his leg, he looked awful. Yet he was the most amazing sight she’d ever seen.
“Kyran,” she choked out, her throat turned to stone.
“Hey now, baby,” he murmured, his Southern accent stronger because he wasn’t thinking about it. “You look beautiful, know that?”
Anna didn’t think so. She hadn’t had a shower since yesterday. She had no idea what her hair looked like or if she had a trace of makeup on. What she did know was Kyran was alive and he smiled so softly she knew in her heart of hearts that he loved her.
“Come here,” he whispered, lifting his left hand.
She rushed to his bedside, carefully taking his hand. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” About all she could think to say, she bent close and kissed his forehead.
“You can do better than that,” he teased, winking when it had to hurt. Bruises like that on his face came from trauma. He’d been through his share.
“When you’re a little better, I’ll jump you, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that, Ms. James.” Tired and pained as he looked, he was thinking about their last night together. Anna fought back a laugh.
“You got it, hero,” she promised, just to him.
Kyran glanced over to the opposite corner of the room. “I’m ready.”
Wasn’t until then she noticed three men were standing about the room. Derek Billings, his agent, Alexander Grant, and a man dressed in slightly wrinkled gray trousers and a white long sleeved shirt, looking as frazzled as she felt.
“Take your time, Mr. Black,” the third man cautioned. “I have several witnesses from last night, the primaries being your teammate Ricky Weathers, Jason Moore and Mark Wells of the Malibu Sharks. What I need is your confirmation. Is this the man who attacked you?”
He showed Kyran a photo. Anna tried to see it. I
t was a mug shot. That wasn’t…no…no, couldn’t be. “Oh god, no, no, no, can’t be him!”
“Anna, it’s okay.” Kyran checked the photo again, looked to the detective. “Yes, that’s the man.”
“It’s not okay,” she grimaced, wanting to cry and run.
“You know this man, Ms. James?” The detective swung toward her, showing the shot in full view. Will Simmons glared at the camera with a hatred she’d never seen before.
Anna let go of Kyran’s hand, backed up. “It’s my fault. She wasn’t lying. I’m going to be sick.”
Someone pushed her into a chair, bent her over and stuck a kidney-shaped pan in her lap. Anna threw up oatmeal and toast until there was only dry heaves. Someone touched the top of her head, calming her.
Dr. Hathaway took the pan away, then handed her something. A breath mint, which she sucked on, afraid to look up and face what she’d done.
“Anna, marry me,” Kyran husked out, his hand on her head tightening.
Chapter Eighteen
Kyran’s Hail Mary proposal was intercepted by Anna’s silence. Dammit, he’d meant it.
She lifted her head to look at Noble. Not him. She didn’t look at him.
She stood up and held out her arms to the officer. “I know the man that did this to Kyran. Arrest me if necessary.”
Noble held up his hands. “No need, ma’am.”
“There’s every need.” She growled and shook like a mad thing. Fuck him, she was beautiful. “I’m responsible for the man I love lying in that bed with his knee braced in some sort of modern medical contraption. Arrest me or I’m going to punch you and make you do it.”
Maybe she hadn’t heard him. Thanks to the tube Doc took out of his throat after surgery, his throat felt like he’d swallowed lead.
“Anna, marry me,” he said, loud as he could.
Anna finally looked at him. She frowned. “You don’t mean that.”
“Do too.” He’d try again ’til she believed him. “Do I need to get up and do it right?”
That’s when he had her. She went teacher on him. One hand flew to her waist. The other hand flailed in a “no-no” gesture that made him fight a smile. Cute as hell, that’s what she was. “You get out of that bed, I will personally put your ass back in.”
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