“I’m off duty but I heard the call. I was close.”
“Approach slowly,” she ordered. Kota growled menacingly.
A tall man with light brown hair stepped into view, his arms aloft. A long-sleeved black t-shirt hugged his muscular body like a second skin. She would peg him at early thirties. He was exceedingly handsome, with whiskey-colored eyes, tan skin and flashing white teeth. She waited for any kind of reaction, a shot of awareness, anything, but there was nothing. Every one of her male coworkers were gorgeous as sin, but off limits, so while she appreciated their good looks, she didn’t act on it. Maybe working around so many attractive guys had made her immune. She glanced down at the unconscious man and there was that shot of awareness she was looking for. Apparently not all her feminine instincts were gone. She glanced back at the cop. His light brown eyes moved from her gun to Kota. “I’m going to reach for my ID.”
“Slowly. Heel,” she told her dog. He sat, but kept his gaze trained on the stranger. The man withdrew a badge and handed it to her. She scanned it, satisfied it was legit. Detective Kellan Polizzi. When she nodded, he eyed Kota, who eyed him right back.
“Hold out your hand,” she instructed the detective. When he did as she asked, she told Kota to learn. Her dog brushed his muzzle against the man’s fingers. He looked like he wanted to jerk them back but he didn’t.
“What was that for?”
“So he can learn your scent and know you’re friend, not foe. He won’t go into attack mode next time he encounters you…unless I tell him to.”
“Damn, that’s impressive. Is he a German Shepherd?”
“Belgian Malinois.”
The cop dropped down beside the unconscious man and felt for a pulse, nodding when he found one. He propped his arms on his thighs. “What happened?”
She told him about returning from her run and seeing the figure wielding a shovel come up behind the man.
“That it over there?” He indicated the tool with his head.
“Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“I yelled to warn this man. He was able to spin around and block most of the blow.”
“Looks like his arm’s broken.”
Hillary was getting worried that he hadn’t regained consciousness. Head injuries could be dangerous. Deadly.
“I can tell by your actions that you’re well trained and you obviously know how to use a weapon. Are you a police officer?”
She shook her head. “I’m not a cop. I work for a private security firm.”
“Is he a client?”
“No. I’m on vacation.”
He eyed her gun warily. “I am a cop, so I’m suspicious by nature. Got ID?”
She unzipped a pocket of her pack and retrieved her credentials.
Detective Polizzi’s eyes widened as he studied them. “You work for COBRA Securities?”
“Yes.” She slipped her ID back inside the pocket and zipped it closed.
The cop whistled. “Damn. They’re badass.”
“The baddest,” she agreed absently, willing the man’s eyes to open.
Polizzi nodded at her with, if she wasn’t mistaken, respect. Then he had to go and blow it. “Big security company like that and they don’t issue you uniforms?” He indicated her attire…or lack thereof.
She could feel her face heat, even though the sports bra covered more than a bikini. “I needed to stop the bleeding.” She lifted her now blood-soaked tank from the wound on the unconscious man’s head.
“I was teasing,” he smiled, then cleared his throat at her frosty glare. “Did you check the house for the perp, uh perpetrator?”
“I know what a perp is.” She shook her head. “I heard a door slam but I stayed to aid him instead of pursuing.”
“I hear sirens now. I’ll clear the house while you wait for the ambulance.” He stood and disappeared inside, using a flashlight to illuminate his path.
The sirens wailed louder and then cut off abruptly. She’d told the dispatcher that the victim was on the back deck, so two paramedics jogged from the side of the house. Kota stood and bumped her, growling. “Kota, heel.” He dropped to his haunches. She started to rise to give them room to work but a hand wrapped around her wrist again, sending those same sparks lighting up her nerve endings.
“Don’t leave.”
“I’m not,” she assured the man. “I’m just giving the paramedics room to work.”
“What’s…name?”
“Hillary.” Before she could ask his, a voice called out.
“Excuse me, ma’am. That dog won’t attack, will he?” A young red-headed medic eyed Kota skeptically.
“No. He’s trained so it’s safe.”
The man nodded and deposited a tackle box of supplies before dropping down beside them. “We’ll get you to the hospital and take care of the injuries,” he told the man as he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.
The man’s pain-filled eyes met hers. “Hillary…come with. Please.” His lids drifted closed again.
Hillary froze. He wanted her to go to the hospital with him? Sweat broke out along her scalp. Hospitals terrified her. She’d spent so much time in them the last few months, first in Greece and then in the States when she’d been able to travel. The thought of walking into one voluntarily made her stomach cramp.
“Could you please move back so we can work, ma’am?”
Hillary blinked and realized the man’s grip had dropped from her wrist. She glanced up at the female paramedic. “Yes. Of course.” She pushed to her feet and eased back so they could prepare him for transport, tugging Kota along with her. He was in protective mode, silent but deadly if necessary. One medic wrapped a pressure bandage around the man’s head and tossed her bloody tank to the deck. She would pick it up after they left and throw it in the garbage. It was beyond saving. She’d never get the blood stains out.
“Looks like it hurt.”
“Yes, it does.”
“I wasn’t talking about his injuries.”
Her eyes snapped to the female paramedic, who nodded at the scar on Hillary’s chest. She’d completely forgot about it when she stripped off her shirt. She wasn’t self-conscious about it but she didn’t want the questions that inevitably came from people seeing it for the first time. Her hand automatically strayed to it. “Yes. It almost cost me my life.”
“Here you go.” Detective Polizzi returned and tossed her a shirt. Her face heated again. Had he heard the question? He glanced at the wound but then back at her face. Apparently, he’d noticed it too but thankfully, he didn’t ask about it. “Once the adrenalin wears off, it’ll be cold.”
She caught the long-sleeved black tee, much like the one he wore, touched by the gesture. “Thank you.” He was right…now that the adrenalin was wearing off, cold seeped into her skin and goosebumps covered her arms. She tugged the shirt over her head, the letters OBPD, screened in bold white letters. The detective’s phone buzzed and he moved over to study the shovel as he answered.
After securing the man’s neck in a brace as a precaution, the medics wrapped his damaged arm in an air cast before sliding a backboard beneath him. One had started an IV and placed the bag on his chest. He remained unconscious during the ordeal and she said a prayer that he would be okay. They were so busy getting him ready for transport, the question of her scar was forgotten. The paramedics transferred the man to a gurney and quickly strapped him in, making sure not to jostle his damaged arm.
“You riding with us?” the female paramedic asked as they rolled him away.
“Uh, I’ll meet you there.”
“Island Hospital Emergency,” the woman told her.
Hillary nodded and followed to watch as they loaded the man into the back of the waiting ambulance. She noticed two vehicles in the driveway, one a shiny red Ford Truck and the other a black Dodge Charger with windows so dark, the car was obviously an unmarked police car. That left the truck to the injured man. When the ambulance pulled away, she
checked out the license plate, not surprised it was a fleet vehicle and obviously a rental.
“I can drive you.” She spun around, not even hearing the detective approach. Since she’d had Kota learn his scent, he hadn’t alerted her to his approach.
“To the hospital,” he clarified. “I need to question him when he wakes up.”
“Thanks, but I need to take care of some things first.” Like putting on her big girl panties and overcoming her fears.
#
Rocky stood with the crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered on the beach as medical personnel attended to the man he’d bashed in the head with a shovel. If that bitch hadn’t warned him, he’d have gotten in a better lick. Still, he hadn’t wanted to kill the guy, just get him out of the way. Who was the man and what was he doing in Calvin’s house? Was he the new owner? He needed to find out. Fast.
He sidled closer to a middle-aged man holding the leash of a Dalmatian. “Any idea who the victim is? Is he the owner?”
“No idea, but this is the house they’re renovating for that television show.”
Fear pounded in Rocky’s temples. The house was slated for renovation? How soon? No, no, that couldn’t happen. “What show?”
“You know, that one hosted by the famous baseball player. Home Run Homes.”
Recognition dawned. “Reed Steele.”
“That’s the one.”
Oh shit, he tried to brain Reed Steele.
He thought the guy looked familiar. Granted, he’d only had a quick glance before the shovel connected, but he loved baseball and watched HGTV religiously in the slammer. He’d become a fan of the show and of Steele. For a former professional athlete, the man did good work. In fact, Rocky thought he’d be good at that kind of thing. His granny had forced him to work on Habitat for Humanity homes when he was a teenager. He’d hated it at the time, absolutely loathed it. It was long hours in the hot sun for no pay. There hadn’t even been any hot chicks to impress. They’d all looked like they ate granola or tofu and didn’t shave their pits. Granny said helping the poor and downtrodden built character and impressed Jesus. All it did for him was made him resent her more than he already did…and that was saying something because there wasn’t a day that went by when he wasn’t thinking up ways to strangle the old coot.
The paramedics finished working on Steele and then they lifted him onto a gurney and wheeled him away. The chick who yelled at him followed behind but he was too far away and Rocky couldn’t see her face.
He hoped he hadn’t killed the guy. It’d be a shame, but sometimes collateral damage was inevitable.
Chapter Five
The sound hit Reed first: the sharp wail of a siren that pierced his brain like a sharp metal spike. Smell came next and it was a mixture of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. Medicinal. He blinked his lids open, wincing when the light stabbed into his eyes. Not a good idea. He slammed them shut. Then came the pain. Even gritting his teeth made his head throb. His arm felt like he’d used it instead of a bat against a Todd Jones fastball. What the hell happened to him?
“Hey, handsome, you back with me?”
Reed froze at the voice. He’d been dreaming of a bewitching blond with a sweet smile and a killer body. Blue eyes gazed at him with affection as her soft hands stroked his skin. She’d murmured her name to him. Hillary. His brows knitted. He pictured a nasty scar on her chest. Was this her? His lids flew open to see a woman smiling at him, but this one was brunette. Disappointment hit him low in the gut. She was attractive but not the face he hoped to see. Was the blond beauty a figment of his imagination? He tried to lift his head and glance around but he was securely strapped down.
“Hillary?”
“No, my name’s Libby…oh, you mean the blond?”
He started to nod but quickly aborted the idea when his head screamed in protest. If she knew who he was asking about, then that meant the woman wasn’t a dream. “Yes.”
“She’s meeting us at the hospital.”
His eyes closed on a relieved exhale. He’d get to see her again. Images came to him. Pulling up to the reno house. He’d stepped out onto the deck and spotted her walking along the beach. Even from a distance, she’d captivated him. The next image was of her leaning over him while he was lying on the ground, but everything in between was blank. “What happened?”
“Someone tried to scoop your brains out of your skull with a shovel.”
Reed’s eyes popped open again. What the hell? That would explain the excruciating pain in his cranium. And he now realized the incessant noise was the wailing siren of the ambulance in which he was currently a passenger. “Who?”
“I don’t know the answer to that. I do know the woman…Hillary…scared him off or he might’ve done worse damage. As it was, she alerted you to the impending danger and you were able to deflect the blow.”
So not only was she his dream girl, but she was his knight in shining armor, too. Knight-ress? Dame? What did you call a female knight? Anyway, he could think of several ways to thank her, but he’d need to do a bit of recovering first. His body had always been quick to heal from an injury…until the last one that ended his baseball career. He frowned.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
The question was asked with a sultry smile and normally, Reed rarely let an opportunity pass to flirt with a pretty woman. But the pain was too intense and what brain cells worked had only one woman in mind.
The gurney shifted as the ambulance turned a corner and then braked to a stop, saving him from answering. He didn’t even know Hillary. She wasn’t his girlfriend…yet.
“We’re here,” the paramedic told him as she moved to the doors and waited for the driver to open them. As soon as he did, she jumped down and together they rolled him to the edge, lifted him out and snapped the legs into place. He gritted his teeth at the jarring movement as they wheeled him into the Emergency Room. Every bump and jostle rattled his aching brain and he almost lapsed back into unconsciousness to avoid the pain, but he needed to stay awake so he could see Hillary again.
Soon everything became a blur as he suffered through x-rays and a cat scan. The commotion was too much and he drifted back into unconsciousness. When he woke again, he was lying in a bed with machines beeping next to his ear. The pain in his head had dulled, probably thanks to the drugs coursing through his system via an IV. He vaguely remembered rousing while they worked on his arm. Now it was casted and propped up on a pillow. He was a bit chilly and glanced down, surprised to discover his entire chest was exposed.
“Hello, Mr. Steele.”
He lifted his gaze to see a nurse smiling at him. “My name’s Tabitha.” She leaned across him to adjust the pillow beneath his head. Storks carrying pink and blue bundles decorated her yellow scrubs. She noticed his gaze and smiled, her face dangerously close to his. So close in fact, he could count the freckles sprinkled across her nose. “I usually work the maternity ward.” She placed a hand against his forehead. “How do you feel?”
Before he could answer, more women filled the room and Tabitha scrambled back. He didn’t know if the others were nurses or what, but they fawned over him and somehow, the sheet was tugged further down. He was pretty sure he was buck-ass naked, so he used his uninjured arm to stop its downward descent. “I’m a little chilly.” Suddenly several hands were there to tug the sheet up and if he wasn’t mistaken, there were a few unnecessary gropes in the process.
He scanned the unfamiliar faces, looking for one in particular that was burned into his retinae. His shoulders dropped when he didn’t spot it. He had no concept of time, but he knew he’d been here a while, giving Hillary plenty of time to show up. The thought of never seeing her again depressed him. “Is there anyone here for me in the waiting room?”
“Oh yes, there is,” Tabitha said and his heart sprouted wings and soared. She did show up. “Detective Polizzi wants to speak with you.”
“Oh.” His heart took a nose dive. He slumped against the pillow. Not who he
’d hoped for. “Anyone else?”
She shook her head. “Is there someone I can call for you?”
Since he didn’t know Hillary’s number—or her last name—his mind blanked. He didn’t want to worry his family. His mom and dad didn’t need to fly out for this. They’d spent plenty of time by his bedside when he’d injured his knee. He supposed he should let his producer know. “Connie Ellis.” He rattled off her number, which he only remembered because it was the Los Angeles area code plus the numbers that corresponded to Connie E. Most numbers he just programmed into his cell instead of committing them to memory.
“I’ll call her now.”
“Tell her it’s not serious,” he called after Tabitha as she left the room. Connie was a world-class worrier.
“Do you feel like speaking with the detective now?” This was asked by another woman dressed in scrubs, but hers were decorated with images of motorcycles. “He has a few questions for you.”
The conversation would be quick since he didn’t remember a thing about what happened, so might as well get it over with. “Sure.” He closed his eyes and tried to focus but his mind was blank except for Hillary’s fascinating face.
“Ladies, may we have a moment?” The amused voice had Reed opening his eyes. A tall man stood aside as the women filed from the room, waving and blowing kisses as they departed.
The man shook his head, chuckling. “Damn. I’d be jealous of you if you didn’t look like you’ve been run over by an eighteen-wheeler right now.”
Reed smiled, liking the man instantly. “Not only look like it, but feel like it, too.”
The man winced. “I imagine. I’m Detective Kellan Polizzi with the Outer Banks Police Department. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”
“You can ask, but I can’t promise answers. It’s all pretty much a void.”
“What do you remember?”
Hillary. “I’m on the island to renovate a house.”
“I know who you are. I’m a fan of your show, and was of your baseball career as well.”
“Thanks. I wanted to check out the house we’ll be renovating. The inside was a disaster. I remember that. I stepped out on the deck to watch the waves and noticed a woman walking along the beach. The next thing I know, I was waking up on the deck with her hovering over me. Hillary.”
Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10) Page 4