Deadly Influence

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Deadly Influence Page 14

by Lakes, Lynde


  Jay paused mid-bite, and their eyes met. She suspected that the hunger in those brown eyes had nothing to do with food. That made their closeness even more dangerous. “I told Bud that since Grandma would be sleeping most of the time for the next couple of days, I could handle her care, so I gave you a couple of days off.”

  “Did he buy that?”

  “Yeah. He seemed to have other worries on his mind.”

  “Maybe he’s in trouble with loan sharks again. He gets crazy when they’re after him.”

  Jay arched a brow and captured her gaze. “The way you gobbled up that last fry makes me wonder if you have that much gusto for everything.” His suggestive words and deep tone made her heart beat faster.

  She gave him a gentle shove. “You’d better go now,” she whispered, hating the tremor in her voice.

  “I could protect you better if I hid under that sheet with you.” He leaned toward her, his brown eyes smoldering.

  She felt breathless and quivery. This was definitely getting out of hand. Her emotional stability and professionalism had never been at greater risk. She had to control her runaway libido and throw ice water on his—now! “Is this some kind of Oedipus thing you have for your grandmother?” she asked. “Or do you just find all older women intriguing?”

  His eyes darkened, and then he laughed and eased himself off the bed. “Not old babes who smart off the way you do.”

  “Have you forgotten why I’m in this getup? It’s to catch a killer, not play Grandma and the big bad wolf.”

  He laughed again. “Touché, Lisa.” Jay paused in the middle of the room. His face went serious. “You won’t know where Martin or I will be, but we’ll be close by. The wire in your earpiece is your lifeline. If you hear anything, tell me. And don’t let anyone get too close. You should be good at that!”

  “Hilarious, Jay. Now get lost.”

  He shrugged. “No heroics. Got it?” She nodded.

  Jay paused at the door. “I’ll drive my van into the garage at the rear of the property, lift the hood, and pretend to work on the engine. I’ll have all the garage lights on and play the radio loudly. To anyone watching, Grandma will be vulnerable to attack from the front of the house. Be on your toes. If someone wants to get to you, he’ll have a clear field.”

  “Cheery thought,” Lisa mumbled to herself as Jay disappeared. She hoped the attacker would make his move soon. Waiting wasn’t one of her strong suits. She flicked on the lamp next to the bed and glanced at the embossed cover of the intrigue romance, Virgin Wolf, that she had brought with her. She had just finished reading the four-star review on the back cover when someone tapped on the door. She flicked the light off.

  “Meta, it’s Howard.”

  Lisa scrunched down in bed, covered her head with a sheet, and remained silent, hoping he would go away. The door squeaked open. “Meta,” he whispered. “Are you awake, sweet pea?”

  The edge of the bed sank under his weight. He kissed the sheet covering her head and lay over her gently, half holding her. The sheet dampened. It was tears. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  Lisa felt his big fingers fumbling at the top of the sheet. Oh no. He was going to pull it off her face. But he didn’t. Instead, he just patted it. “You just have to be all right,” he said in a choked voice. Lisa felt like a voyeur, lying there silently, letting Howard spill his guts. He would never forgive her for that. Nevertheless, as unfair as it was to Howard, she had to play it as planned. Finally, Howard’s weight lifted from the bed, and she heard him shuffle out the door, closing it softly behind him.

  She turned the lamp on again, this time to dim. She was glad Howard wasn’t the killer. Meta needed someone tender and affectionate like him in her life. Love had put a blush in the matriarch’s cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes, clearly working better than any medicines or vitamins.

  Lisa stiffened as footsteps came toward the door. She slid down in bed and covered her head with the sheet. The door jerked open and bounced against the wall. Lisa peered out from under the sheet.

  “Damn it, Lisa,” Jay said in a low voice as he charged into the room. “I told you not to let anyone get that close. I heard the whole touching scene, even Howard’s breathing.” Jay closed the door behind him.

  “What did you want me to do? Run from him? Judo chop him?”

  “I didn’t want you to lie there passively. What if he’d been the killer?”

  “Howard? You can’t think that now, after what you heard. He’s just a lovesick old dog, dying to do some new tricks.”

  Jay threw his hands in the air. “I’m not going to make it through this.” He dropped down on the edge of the bed. His dark, angry eyes held hers. “You’re not taking the danger seriously.”

  “Me?” She glared at him. “You’re the problem. The attacker won’t come around with you zooming in and out of here like a boomerang.”

  He grabbed her wrists in one hand. The heat of his fingers burned into her flesh. He pulled her close, his face only inches from hers. She moistened her lips, and her body tensed. She hated herself for wanting his kiss so much, for wanting even more of him than kisses.

  “You can’t let anyone get this close,” he growled hoarsely. “Got it?” Then he released her abruptly. “I had you trapped. And you didn’t even put up a fight.”

  “Damn you. I didn’t know I was being tested.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “But next time watch yourself, Jay Corning.”

  “That’s it,” Jay said. “That’s what I want to see, some fight!”

  She threw one of the pillows, hard, catching him in the face. He laughed and closed the door softly as he left. Lisa felt more miffed with herself than with Jay. Still, she vowed to make him pay. He could count on it.

  She got up and went to peer out the window, careful to remain hidden behind the curtain’s edge. A foggy darkness had settled over the world outside. Rain was coming down hard now, and wind whistled through the valley. Meta’s old mansion creaked in protest. Lisa rubbed her arms against the chill in the dimly lit room. She paced a few steps. She couldn’t let the uncertainty and enormity of waiting like a sitting duck for a killer to get to her, to overpower her. What she needed was a workout to relieve the tension. She did some push-ups, knee bends, and karate lunges. As her muscles warmed and adrenaline pumped through her veins, she felt better, more in control.

  Lisa stiffened at the scraping noises outside the window. It wasn’t just a tree rubbing against the balcony. A man’s shadow loomed outside the window. He had some kind of tool. A glass cutter? Adrenaline rushed through her. She grabbed her gun and ducked down behind the upholstered chair that faced the window. Her heart pounded in fierce beats.

  “Jay, can you hear me?” she whispered, counting on the wire to pick up her words. “Someone is cutting the glass. Now he’s reaching his arm through. He unlocked the latch—he’s easing the window up.” She tightened her hold on the gun. “But I’m ready for him.”

  Her breathing was shallow. The door opened behind her. Over her shoulder she whispered, “Thanks for getting here so quickly, Jay.”

  The intruder climbed inside. Just as she suspected—Perry Roberson. She aimed at the gun in his hand. Before she could fire, arms came from behind and wrestled her gun away.

  She turned. The man who now held her gun wasn’t Jay. “Gus!” It made sense that Gus was in it with Perry. What she hadn’t counted on was the two of them coming at her at once. Jay, where are you?

  Gus twisted her arm behind her back. “Perry, you stupid imbecile,” he shouted. “It’s not the old lady! You told me it was her up here alone.”

  “Geez,” Perry said. “What’ll we do now?”

  “Where’s Old Lady Corning, Lisa?” Gus asked.

  Lisa glanced down. Her heart sank. Her earpiece connection to Jay and Sergeant Martin lay on the floor, glinting, mocking. She kicked it under the bed, praying Gus hadn’t seen it. He had probably knocked it loose when he attacked her. She had messed up, and now she was alon
e with a vicious punk who wanted revenge.

  Gus grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “For the last time, where is the old lady?”

  Hang tough, she told herself, fighting rising panic. “She’s safe, where you’ll never find her.”

  Gus’s eyes narrowed. “Playing the tough cop? It won’t work. You’ll beg me to kill you before I’m through with you.”

  She darted a glance at Perry. He looked scared. If she could get the upper hand with Gus, she felt sure Perry would crumble. She went limp. Gus reacted as she expected, easing his hold to get a better grip.

  Lisa broke loose, spun around, and thrust a knee into his groin. Then she jabbed the heel of her palm into his septum. He folded like a jackknife, moaning in pain. She twisted and bent his middle finger toward his wrist, easily retrieving her gun. He dropped to his knees. She kicked him in the jaw, knocking him flat.

  Gun ready, she faced a wide-eyed Perry, with his gun pointing at her. His finger twitched on the trigger. A shot rang out! A bullet ripped through her flesh. He shot me!

  “Never underestimate your opponent” echoed in her head as blackness closed over her.

  Perry watched Lisa crumble. He dropped the gun as if it were a steamy radiator cap. “Ohhhh geez, what’d I do?” Neighbors probably heard the shot. Maybe even his parents would come charging through that door. Worse, the police.

  He shook Gus. “We have to get out of here! I killed Lisa!”

  Shaking his head groggily, Gus got to his feet. He glanced down at Lisa’s still body and then staggered to the window, shoving Perry out of the way to climb through first.

  “Damn you, Gus,” Perry said as he followed. “I could’ve left you there.”

  “Yeah?” Gus asked. “So I could squeal on you? I don’t think so.”

  As he and Gus leapt off the balcony, Perry heard the door to the bedroom bang against the wall.

  “Lisa!” Jay cried out. Her eyes were closed, her face ashen. “Please, don’t let her be dead!”

  Blood oozed from her neck. Splotchy patterns had splattered onto the white nightgown and the floor. Jay fought to remain calm. He was familiar with the sequence: blood, pain, shock, death. He dropped to his knees and enfolded her limp body in his arms. Her skin was warm. He found a pulse. “Hang on, baby,” he said, touching his lips to her temple. “Hang on!”

  His heart pounded a frenzied beat, yet somehow he managed to hold his fingers steady as he balled his handkerchief and pressed it to the wound to stem the flow of blood. The smell of the red ooze brought a sour taste of bile to his throat. Spurting blood wasn’t new to him. In combat, he’d seen larger wounds, more blood. But this was the woman he had agreed to protect. This was Lisa. Jay thought he felt her hand flutter against his. But it was only a trickle of blood mingling with the short hairs on the back of his hand.

  Sergeant Martin charged into the room, gun drawn. “Call an ambulance,” Jay said hoarsely. “She’s alive!”

  Martin, pale-faced, quickly did as Jay said. “I want them here now!” Martin shouted into the phone. He slammed the receiver down. “They’re on their way. Is she going to make it?”

  “There’s a chance,” Jay said. “Her pulse is strong.” He looked up. It was there in the redheaded cop’s face, had been in his voice. He loved Lisa, too? Jay held her closer and brushed her hair out of her face, feeling the warmth beneath his fingertips.

  Martin squatted and gently touched her forehead. Jay felt his jaw twitch as his gaze locked with Martin’s. After a moment, Martin stood and picked up a gun from the floor with his pen and slipped it into a plastic bag.

  “There’s another gun over there,” Jay said, gesturing with his head. “Looks like Lisa’s.”

  Martin speared it with his pen and put it in another bag.

  Jay shook his head. “After all this, he got away.” Jay felt his throat tighten.

  “The bastard won’t get far,” Martin said. “My men have the area surrounded.”

  Jay nodded, holding Lisa as still as possible. His field training told him not to move her. If there was a bullet in her neck, it could shift, render her paralyzed, or kill her.

  The nearby scream of a siren gave him a moment of relief, but a glance at the bloody folds of the nightgown made his heart thud in panic.

  Wild-eyed, Howard rushed into the room. A police officer followed. “I told you, sir,” he said, “you can’t come up here.”

  Howard shook loose from the officer’s hold. “Meta!” he cried, going down on his knees.

  “It’s Lisa,” Jay said thickly, holding her tighter.

  Howard looked puzzled, relieved, and then troubled. “How is she?”

  Two burly medics brushed past Howard. “Sir, we’ll handle it from here,” the one said.

  “She’s critical,” the other medic said, “needs an IV now!” The medic wrenched Lisa from Jay, actually prying his arms from around her.

  The loss of her warmth, the break of contact left him feeling inept, empty. “Please, be careful with her.”

  They strapped her onto the stretcher. She lay so still. He wanted to grab her hand, hang on, but the medics whisked her out of the room. They were almost running as they descended the stairs. Jay followed, keeping her in sight, wishing he could touch her.

  Neighbors had gathered around the ambulance. Martin kept everyone back as the medics lifted Lisa inside. Jay started to get in. “Hold it,” Martin said, grabbing his arm. “The medics need room to set up the intravenous.”

  There was a flurry of activity inside—metal poles clanging and the medics bending over Lisa. Finally, one of the medics got out. The other stayed by Lisa’s side. Martin climbed in. He turned and looked at Jay. “You can get in now.”

  Jay climbed in, and the driver shut the door. Martin had taken the spot closest to Lisa. Jay clenched and unclenched his hands, fighting hard to keep his self-control. His enlarged, bruised knuckles felt hot, ready to smash into flesh and bone. He had no right to resent that Sergeant Martin had gotten into the ambulance ahead of him, was now next to Lisa, holding her hand, telling her he was there, that she would be all right. Jay clenched his jaw so tight that it ached. Lisa wasn’t his property, but she was the woman he’d grown to care for. He should be angry with himself. He had failed his grandmother—and he had failed Lisa.

  She was so pale. An intravenous tube carried fluid into her wrist. Martin brushed a tendril of hair back from her face. He kissed her forehead. Jay moved closer, wanting to shove Martin out of the way. He forced himself to concentrate on the howl of the siren and the speed of the ambulance. Just get her there in time—nothing else matters.

  Jay knew they were speeding and weaving through traffic. Yet, it felt like an eternity before they finally pulled in to the Emergency entrance. When they rushed her inside and he tried to follow, one of the medics ordered him into the waiting room. It was crowded with pinched-faced people staring at the blue double doors that separated them from their injured loved ones. Jay wanted to crash through those doors and run to Lisa’s side, but the stern-faced nurse at the desk had her eye on him. Sergeant Martin was watching him, too. He felt both kinship and hate for Martin. “You can leave now,” Jay said. “I know you’ve got a job to do.”

  Martin made no move to go. “My men will get the guy who shot her.” He ran his hand through his wavy red hair. “Everything’s under control.”

  “You must have reports to fill out, get the guns to a lab, crucial stuff like that.”

  “Until I know she okay, I’m staying,” he said.

  Jay paced the floor. If it were not for Lisa, his grandmother would be dead. At her advanced age and after all she had been through, she would never have survived a bullet, but Lisa would! He glanced up. Lord, please let me be right about that. Lisa was physically fit, strong, a fighter.

  He had counted on the wire too much. He should have been hiding in the closet. Better, he shouldn’t have let Lisa talk him into this decoy lunacy. Then, where would his grandmother be? Dead.


  His hands and fingers felt dry. He glanced down at the dried blood. Lisa’s blood. Oh, God. Moisture flooded his eyes, blurring his vision. He wiped it away with his thumb and forefinger. He took a deep breath. She would be okay—she had to be!

  A doctor came out, pulling his green mask away from his mouth. Jay and Martin met him before he had taken three steps. “Is she going to be all right?” they asked in a tense chorus.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood… is in shock. But she looks like a healthy young woman.”

  Jay looked past the doctor to those blue doors and moved forward. “Is she alone?”

  The doctor put his hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Dr. Hendricks and a surgeon are with her. The staff is prepping her for surgery.”

  “Can I see her? Just for a second?” Jay tightened his jaw. There was all that blood. He stared at the blue double doors. He knew that sometimes even a simple surgery was fatal.

  “She’s pretty much out of it,” the doctor said. “Sedated and comfortable. And it’s pretty hectic back there.”

  “Then when can I see her?”

  “When we transfer her to the recovery room. We will let you know.”

  Martin stepped in front of the doctor. “Does she know I’m here?” The dark shadows under Martin’s eyes almost made Jay feel sorry for him.

  “Not likely,” the doctor said. He turned to leave, then paused. “You two look tired. Get some coffee or something. She’ll be in surgery and recovery for several hours.”

  Jay felt like a deflated balloon. Ever since he’d found her, unconscious and bleeding, he’d been riding a high wave of adrenaline. Now that her care was out of his hands, he felt drained, helpless. He could only wait and pray that Lisa wouldn’t die.

  Chapter Ten

  Lisa’s neck felt stiff and her body ached from lying in one position. She forced her eyes open to a blurry world. The air in her bedroom didn’t smell of orange blossoms as it did many mornings—rather, it smelled of disinfectant. There was no gold-inlaid ceiling. Instead, it had brown stains and sprinkler stubs. This wasn’t her bed. She attempted to turn on her side, but a firm neck pillow and an IV drip stopped her.

 

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