They were watching Home Alone on the TV mounted on swivel brackets in the corner. Macaulay Culkin had just unrolled his battle plan when Mark and Shelby strolled in.
Shelby plopped a stack of supermarket tabloids down on Dixon’s bed. “Thought you’d want to keep up on the latest UFO abductions.”
“Thanks.”
Shelby smiled and passed Alexandra a large Styrofoam cup. “We didn’t forget you, either, Alex. Here’s some of Ginger’s special eggnog. I know you missed dinner. And this stuff really is delicious. ‘To die for’ as Ginger so modestly puts it.”
“Sounds wonderful. Thanks, Shelby.” Alexandra set the cup on Dixon’s table.
“Better drink up before it gets warm. Lukewarm eggnog is disgusting.” Shelby stuck out her tongue.
Alexandra didn’t like eggnog, Dixon remembered, though he doubted Shelby would suspect it from the carefully polite expression on her cousin’s face. Time to change the subject. “Surely you two didn’t drive all the way to Baker City just to bring us gifts.”
Shelby laughed. “No, we’re playing hooky—going to a movie. The entertainment at the Last Resort leaves a little to be desired. When we left, they were playing charades.” She rolled her eyes.
“I suggested Sun Valley.” Mark Jordan looked and sounded like a petulant child.
“They’re always so crowded over Christmas.” Shelby turned to Dixon. “How are you doing? We were sorry to hear about your accident. The roads are terrible, aren’t they? Mark and I saw two cars stranded in the ditch on our way down this evening.”
As Shelby spoke she drifted about the room, settling finally on the empty bed.
“Actually, my accident was no accident.” Dixon’s little bombshell galvanized the others.
“What?” Jordan and Alexandra demanded in a surprised duet.
“How do you know?” Shelby asked.
“I didn’t slide off the road by chance. My brakes went out as I came down the grade.”
“Brakes do wear out.” Jordan talked as if he’d just been hired to represent the brake manufacturer.
“I had a brake job last month. This was no accident. Someone drained my brake fluid.”
“How frightening!” Shelby shuddered.
Jordan placed his hand on Alexandra’s. “Can we talk?” he asked softly, so softly Dixon couldn’t actually hear the words. Luckily, he counted lipreading among his talents.
“Alexandra has nothing to say to you, Jordan.”
“I can speak for myself, thank you.” She shot him a dirty look. “Let’s take a walk,” she said to Mark.
The look on Shelby’s face as they left the room would have withered a lesser woman.
Dixon clicked the TV off just as the tarantula landed on Daniel Stern’s chest.
“I hate that kid,” Shelby remarked.
Dixon figured she was referring to Macaulay Culkin, since the closest flesh-and-blood kids were over in pediatrics.
Shelby moved across to the bedside chair Alexandra had just vacated. She nudged the cup with her finger. “It’s going to go bad if she doesn’t drink it.”
“What does Jordan want to talk to Alexandra about?”
Shelby clenched her hands together tightly. She spoke without looking up. “He loves her.”
“Bull!” Dixon felt like breaking something—preferably Jordan’s face. “He loves her money.”
Shelby gave a sad little smile. “Same thing.”
Dixon swore. “She’s too good for him.” He looked hard at the redhead. “And so are you.”
She shrugged. “You can’t pick who you’re going to fall for. It doesn’t work that way.” She fell silent, staring again in seeming fascination at her long scarlet nails, picking nervously at the chipped edge on her right thumbnail.
“You’re a nice guy, Dixon,” she said at length. “I really am sorry about your accident.” She rubbed her broken nail across the leather of her handbag. “It’s a shame when innocent people have to suffer.” She glanced up. “Did you hear about the poor old homeless man who died in the fire at Gemini Gifts? Talk about bad luck.”
Dixon’s smile was grim. “I don’t believe in luck—just fate.”
“I love you, Alex. I know how it looks, my coming up here with Shelby, but the truth is our relationship is strictly platonic.”
“Save your breath, Mark. I’m not buying this.”
“Alex.” He closed his eyes, massaging his forehead as if he had a headache.
Alex suspected the headache was fiction, the gesture a delaying tactic. He was probably racking his brain for a fresh approach.
“Alex, I …” Gazing soulfully into her eyes, Mark gripped her hands. “Darling, you’ve got to believe me. I love you so much. I don’t think I can live without you.”
She smiled. “At least not in the manner to which you’d like to become accustomed. No showcase home in the Loomises’ oh-so-exclusive neighborhood. No Porsche in the garage.” She sighed in exaggerated sympathy.
His grip on her fingers tightened painfully. He glanced quickly over his shoulder down the length of the deserted hall. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He jerked her into his arms, then ground his mouth against hers. The punishing travesty of a kiss left her lower lip throbbing.
“Let me go, Mark!” She tried to twist free, but his grip was like iron. “This isn’t like you. What have you been doing? Taking lessons from your boss?”
“I need you, Alex.” He gave her earlobe a painful nip. “God, baby, I’m hot for you. Feel.” Mark seized her hand and pressed it to his crotch.
Alex struggled, trying to pull her hand away, but he held it fast. “You’re disgusting.”
“You know you want it, Alex. You want it just as much as I do.” He rolled his pelvis, pressing himself against her hand.
“All I want, Mark, is to see the last of you. Dixon was right. You are scum.” Cupping the bulge beneath her fingers, she gave it a vicious twist.
His grip went slack. His eyes grew large. He doubled up, sucking in a long, ragged breath. “You bitch.” His voice followed her, echoing eerily down the deserted hall. “I’ll get you for this.”
Shelby glanced up as Alexandra returned to Dixon’s room. “Where’s Mark?”
“Call the cops, Dixon.” Alexandra’s voice was as cold as the snow capping the Elkhorns.
“What’s the problem?” Shelby asked.
“I’m charging Mark with assault. I think he’s the one, Dixon, the one who’s been trying to kill me. He threatened me just now. I want him behind bars.”
“No!” Shelby’s eyes widened in shock. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
Dixon reached for the phone.
“No,” Shelby said again. She stood, drawing a lethal-looking .357 from her purse to emphasize her objection.
“That’s my gun!”
Shelby ignored her cousin’s outraged comment. “Over there, Alex.” With a wave of the gun she motioned for Alexandra to step around to the far side of the bed.
Alexandra, her gaze glued to the barrel, followed Shelby’s orders. “This is crazy. He’s not worth it, Shelby.”
“All I ever wanted was for Mark to love me. If it hadn’t been for you, he would have.”
“Put the gun down, Shelby.” Dixon spoke calmly, trying to defuse the situation. Beneath the sheet, he kept his finger pressed to the call button.
“Don’t interfere, Dixon, or I’ll take you out too. I swear to God I will.” Sweat beaded Shelby’s pale forehead. “I know how to use this thing. Uncle Stuart taught all of us girls how to defend ourselves, remember, Alex?”
“Who taught you how to tamper with brakes?” Dixon asked.
Shelby’s narrowed eyes glittered. “An old friend. Alex knows him. Danny Hall. He turned his back the day I sneaked into the Stockton Building too.”
“The cops are onto you, Shelby. They paid a visit to Hall yesterday. He ratted you out.”
She laughed. “Nice try, Dixon. Only I talked to Danny this morning. The c
ops spooked him, all right, but he’d sooner slit his own throat than give them the time of day. He’s lying low until things blow over.”
“Bill Umphrey stopped by just before Alexandra got here. He found a pool of brake fluid in Kurt’s garage. I bet if he looks, he’ll find a chip of red nail polish, too. That’s how you damaged your manicure, huh?”
“I’m sorry you were hurt. Alex was the primary target.”
“But when did you do it? That’s what I don’t understand. Are you and Jordan working together?”
“No. He has no idea what’s going on. This morning I slipped away from the slopes, drove back, and played with the brakes on the Jeep. The whole operation took under half an hour and Mark never suspected a thing.”
“But how did you know where to find us?” Alex asked. Dixon was glad to see she was beginning to regain her equilibrium. When she’d first realized Shelby was behind the murder attempts, she had looked shell-shocked.
“When you called Mark from old Mrs. Yano’s house, her name showed up on caller ID. Using that information, I traced you.”
“It was you on the snowmobile?” Alexandra looked sick.
“Right. I figured you’d bolt. Got my car and waited to see which way you ran. I followed you to the Last Resort, then drove back to Brunswick, where I convinced Mark we ought to change our plans, try Anthony Lakes for a change. He never suspected a thing.”
“You were responsible for the fire at Gemini Gifts too.” It was a statement, not a question. Alexandra’s face was stiff with accusation.
“You have insurance.” She frowned at Alexandra. “Why didn’t you just drink up your eggnog like a good girl? You would have saved us all a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t like eggnog.”
Shelby’s manic laughter sent chills down Dixon’s spine. “Figures.”
“What’s in it?” he asked. “Rat poison?”
Shelby ignored him. “I swear, Alex, you must have more lives than a cat.” She steadied the gun with both hands, aiming straight at Alexandra’s chest. “Unfortunately, you’re down to the last one.”
“Don’t do anything foolish, Shelby. You’ll never get away with it.” Dixon hooked the tray table with one foot and shoved it toward her, hoping to catch her off guard.
She jumped aside and leveled the gun at him. A muscle twitched under her eye. Specks of spittle appeared at the corners of her mouth. “Nobody’s caught onto me yet. Not the cops. Not even Mark.”
“Nobody? How about Myron?”
That’s it, Alexandra. Keep her talking.
Shelby sneered. “Snoopy old bastard. Small loss to the human race he was.”
Dixon stared hard at Shelby. “That’s where you slipped up.”
“You’re wrong. No one saw a thing. They’ll never be able to pin his murder on me.”
Dixon shook his head. “It’s too late, Shelby. You already incriminated yourself.”
“Yes, but neither one of you is going to be in any condition to tell anyone anything.”
Dixon kept a wary eye on the .357. “It would be senseless to kill us now. The cops already know you’re guilty.”
“You’re lying.” Tightening her grip on the gun, Shelby glanced around with a hunted expression. “How could they know?”
“Earlier you said what a shame it was about poor old Myron’s body being found in the rubble of the fire. But the police never released that information to the press. The only way you could have known about it was if you were the one who’d killed him.”
“You’re very sharp, Dixon Yano, private investigator.” Shelby’s smile did little to allay his fears. “Too bad you won’t have time to tell anyone else what you figured out.”
Dixon smiled. “Oh, but I already have.”
Shelby’s face went blank.
“When you went to the bathroom a while ago, I contacted the cops. They should be here any minute now. It’s over, Shelby.”
Spots of color highlighted her cheekbones like poorly applied blush. Her hands shook. The gun wobbled dangerously back and forth from Alexandra to Dixon, then back to Alexandra. “It’s over when I say it’s over.” She ground the words out from between clenched teeth.
Suddenly the door swung open. Mark Jordan barged in with a scrawny hospital security guard in tow.
“There she is,” Mark said. “There’s the woman who assaulted me.” Too absorbed in himself to notice Shelby or her gun, he pointed toward Alexandra. “I’m going to sue your butt, Alex, and before I’m done, I’ll have every cent of that trust fund in my pocket. You should know better than to screw with a lawyer.”
“Yes, obviously I should.” Alexandra giggled hysterically.
“Get out of here, Mark.” Shelby waved the gun at him.
The security guard paled, then swallowed noisily, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do what the lady says, mister.”
A series of emotions passed across Jordan’s face: surprise, confusion, disbelief, anger, amusement. “What is this? A joke?”
“No joke,” Dixon told him. “Shelby’s the one who’s been trying to kill Alexandra.”
Jordan’s face registered shock. “Shelby?”
“Get out, Mark. And take the guard with you. I’ve got some business to take care of.”
Alexandra went very still. She shot Dixon a look of entreaty.
“Diversion,” he mouthed. Shelby had all her attention trained on the two men backing out of the room.
“Geronimo!” Alexandra yelled at the top of her lungs, then dove under the bed to tackle Shelby’s legs.
Dixon made a grab for the gun.
Shelby pulled the trigger, but she was off balance, unable to take careful aim. The bullet exploded harmlessly, though the blast itself was deafening in such close quarters.
Dixon made a second grab for the gun, successful this time, as Shelby went down under the weight of Alexandra’s tackle. The redhead slammed her head against a rolling metal cabinet on the way down and went out like a light. The stainless-steel bedpan that had been perched atop the cabinet set up a metallic clangor as it bounced across the tile floor.
Darbie, the cute little nursing supervisor, shouldered her way past Mark Jordan and the security guard, a stern expression on her face. “I’m sorry,” she announced, “but you’ll have to leave. Visiting hours are over.”
“Geronimo?” Dixon raised an eyebrow.
Alex grinned. “It was all I could think of. What took those cops so long, anyway?”
Dixon looked sheepish. “That was a bluff. I did try to call when Shelby was in the john, but I couldn’t get through.” He shoved his feet into his boots.
They were alone now in Dixon’s hospital room. The police had taken Shelby into custody. She had not gone quietly.
As for Mark, he’d disappeared even before the police had shown up. A coward to the end.
“What did I ever see in him?” she wondered aloud.
“Jordan?”
She nodded.
“Beats the hell out of me.” Dixon eased the off-white cotton sweater over his head, careful to hold the fabric away from his stitches.
Alex tipped her head to one side, puzzling it out. “Initially, of course, his looks attracted me. Mark really is gorgeous.” She sighed. “My mistake was in believing his character matched his face.”
Dixon shrugged into his leather jacket and stuffed his wallet into his hip pocket. “Ready?”
“I can’t believe the doctor released you after all the ruckus tonight.”
Dixon grinned crookedly. “He didn’t. I’m going AWOL.”
“What about your head?”
“What about it? Look at my eyes, Alexandra. My pupils look fine, right?”
She nodded.
“So no concussion, which, in turn, means no need to stay.”
“But where are we going?”
He pulled her into a tight embrace. “Anywhere you want. The danger’s over.”
“But your Jeep … we don’t have a car.”
“I called a cab.”
It was over. She could scarcely believe it. Alex glanced up at Dixon’s face. He was handsome, as handsome in his own way as Mark Jordan, but Dixon’s face held character too. And determination. No strings, she reminded herself. Now that no one was trying to kill her, she had no more need for a bodyguard. She reached up to touch his cheek, loving the rugged line of his jaw, the raspy feel of his stubbly skin. A deep melancholy settled over her. No more danger. No more bodyguard. No more Dixon.
Dixon tilted her chin up with the gentle pressure of one finger. “Hey, cheer up! You look like you just lost your best friend.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Shall we go back to the Sunridge Inn or would you prefer the Last Resort? Tell you what, if Kurt still has the dormer room free, let’s take it. I can think of a few interesting uses for that Jacuzzi.”
“Sure,” she said. Enjoy it while it lasts, the pragmatist in her advised.
But I want it to last forever, the romantic argued.
Alex fell asleep on the ride back to the lodge, her head on Dixon’s shoulder, his arm holding her warm and secure against his side. She didn’t wake up until Dixon laid her down on the fluffy down-filled comforter that covered the king-size brass bed in the dormer room.
“What do you think?” Dixon spread his hands to indicate their surroundings. “A step up from the garage apartment, huh?”
It was indeed. Country extravagance best described the decor. Alex wondered who had chosen the laceedged sheets, the antique armoire, the double Irish chain quilt that hung on the wall at the head of the bed. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Kurt did all the decorating himself,” Dixon said in answer to her unspoken question. “Maybe we ought to turn him loose on our house.”
“Our house?” Alex’s throat felt tight. What was he talking about? Was this his not-so-subtle way of asking her to move in with him? “What about the ground rules? What about ‘no strings’?”
Dixon lay down beside her. He gathered her into his arms and solemnly kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “I love you, Alexandra. Strings don’t bind any tighter than that.”
Her mind whirled. “I love you, too, but what about the ground rules?”
Upon a Midnight Clear Page 17