A Dangerous Widow (Dangerous #1)

by Christina Ross

  I heard the aggressive roar of an engine behind me and then, suddenly, the back of the limousine was filled with bright light.

  “Christ!” the driver said. “Everyone hold on!”

  He punched the accelerator, and the limousine lurched forward as it picked up speed, but he was too late. The first blow to the back of our car was so strong, it sent us careening from the middle lane straight into the left lane, where we nearly smashed into another car. Our driver cut a hard right just in time to miss it, but then the person behind us rammed into us again.

  “What’s happening?” I screamed.

  “Get your head down,” Ben said to me. “Tuck it between your knees! Stay there and don’t move!”

  Terrified, I did as I was told.

  “It’s her,” Ben said as he looked out the back window. “It’s got to be. I think she’s in a Range Rover of some sort—I can tell by the headlights. We’ve got to lose her.”

  “Easier said than done,” the driver said. “The light ahead of us is turning yellow.”

  “Bust through it,” Ben said.

  “It’s going to be close!”

  “She’s coming at us again—push it! She might be the one who gets clipped!”

  The driver pressed hard on his horn, and while I couldn’t see what was happening, I braced myself for impact as I heard an angry howling of horns and a screeching of tires. In the next moment, the distinct sound of a gun went off and the limousine’s back window suddenly exploded in a shattering of glass.

  “What the hell!” I said as a rush of air flowed into the car. “She’s shooting at us?”

  I turned my head to my left and saw Ben reach for the gun in his inside jacket pocket. This time, I saw fresh blood peppering his face. He’d been cut from the glass, which had covered my back and was tinkling all around me. With a steely determination in his eyes, he kept his head low behind the rear headrest and then turned to the two men in front of him. “We shoot,” he said. “All of us. Aim at her windshield, but don’t empty your magazines. Just two shots each. And forget about trying to hit one of her tires. Focus on the windshield.”

  “She’s coming at us again,” the driver said. “Hurry!”

  I clenched my teeth as the two men sitting in front of me unfastened their safety belts, removed their guns from the holsters concealed beneath their black dinner jackets, and then joined Ben as they opened fire just as she smashed into us again. I heard a series of six shots go off almost at once as our limousine jerked to the left and scraped against what sounded to me like another car.

  “Bulletproof glass,” Ben said. “We didn’t even touch her. We’ve got nothing but our wits at this point, boys. Driver, what’s your name?”

  “Andrew.”

  “Listen to me, Andrew—the only way we’re going to win this is by outsmarting her.”

  “I’ve got a string of green lights ahead of me, but the traffic is moving too slow and our car is too fucking long to just snake in and out traffic with ease.”

  “You’ve already hit one car, and you’re about to hit more—consider it collateral damage, but try to keep it minimal.”

  “What do you want me to do, Ben—she’s rushing us again.”

  “When I give you the word, I want you to slam on your brakes.”

  “You want me to what?”

  “Slam on your brakes. She won’t be expecting it. It will throw her off.”

  “If I do that and she hits us, I’m not sure how much more damage our car can take. All she’s done at this point is ram against us while we’ve been moving forward. But if I brake hard and she smashes into us, the airbags will deploy and we could be left in the middle of the street with a car that’s too ruined to move.”

  “There’s a chance that she might dodge us if you brake.”

  “And she might not.”

  “We need to take the risk. Because if she does hit us, we’re taking this outside.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he said. “Because she’s about to hit us right now.”

  “Then hit the brakes and call this bitch out.”

  When Andrew braked hard, I hunkered down and waited for the inevitable collision—which didn’t come.

  “She jerked into the left lane,” Andrew said.

  “Then she’s not stupid,” Ben said. “She backed off. And do you want to know why? It’s because she knows that at some point, her luck is going to run out. She knows that eventually we’re going to come upon a cop, and when that happens? She’s screwed. Where are we?”

  “We just passed Sixty-First Street.”

  “Then we’re moving into residential,” Ben said. “Which isn’t good for us. Soon, there will be fewer cops around. She’ll know that.”

  I felt our car whip to the right, and as it did, my hair was lifted off my neck by the wind flowing through the back window.

  “She’s making another move, Ben—what do you want me to do?”

  “There are five of us against her. If you stop the car and end this—and I mean really end it for each of our vehicles—then we need to depart the car quickly, throw open our doors, stand down behind them with our guns drawn, and take position. Are we agreed on that?”

  “What choice do we have?” one of the men said.

  “I’m on board,” another man said.

  “Me too,” a voice sitting across from me said.

  “This is bullshit,” another man said. “We can take her.”

  “Andrew?”

  “It’s a go,” he said. “So all of you need to get ready, because she’s about to hit us again—and when she does, shit is going to get real.”

  * * *

  With Ben’s hand pressed hard against my back to keep me down, he leaned forward before Andrew slammed on the brakes. “I love you, Kate,” he said. “Whatever comes of this, know that I love you and that I’ve always loved you. And that I’ve fallen back in love with you. You’ve always been the love of my life. You need to know that.”

  Before I could tell him that I’d also fallen back in love with him, Andrew shouted out “Hold on!” before he smashed so hard on the brakes that the car ‘W’ was driving rammed into us, and the airbags deployed. My face was struck by one of them, as was Andrew’s and the man sitting next to him.

  Almost instantly, I smelled the unmistakable scent of smoke as the men around me unbuckled themselves and hurled open their doors.

  But where was the smoke coming from?

  With my face stinging from when the airbag struck me, and my head hunkered low between my legs, I couldn’t tell. Was it just smoke from the brakes—or was one of the cars on fire? Before he left me, I reached for Ben’s hand and gave it a meaningful squeeze as he and the others exited the car, and used their doors to shield themselves.

  Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint wail of a police siren, which was coming straight toward us. But it seemed far away, so I doubted in these next few critical moments whether anyone could help us now.

  I looked over at Ben, who was hunched down low in front of the side door at my left. I’d never seen such bravery. Once again, I was stunned that the man I used to know had become the hero he was today.

  “It’s your call!” he shouted out toward her car. “The police are coming—you can hear them! You might kill one of us—but you won’t kill all of us. Either we’ll take you out, or the police will! So choose, bitch! Because either way, one of us is about to kill your ass!”

  “Our car is on fire,” Andrew said. “At some point, it’s going to blow. She knows that, Ben. She’s revving her engine because of that. She knows that if she stalls just long enough, that it could explode and finish off all of us.”

  “Take aim at her tires,” Ben said. “We’ve got a lock on them now.”

  “She could charge at us,” one of the men said.

  “She already plans to. So brace yourselves. Shoot!”

  When they started shooting, I heard a loud pop and then was catapulted forward as she rammed her car
into ours, which changed everything. In horror, I saw that Ben had been knocked onto his back. I looked to my right, and saw that one of Nick’s men also had rolled onto his side and was fighting to get back into position. There was more gunfire. The sound of the police car grew closer, and perhaps because of that alone, I heard a loud thumping noise as ‘W’ pulled away from us and shot forward with a flattened tire, blowing off the two doors to my right just a moment after Nick’s men had leaped inside to safety.

  “She’s gone,” I heard Ben say. “And the fire is growing. Kate, give me your hand—hurry before it blows!”

  When I gave it to him, he pulled me out of the car, swept me into his arms, and carried me to the sidewalk just moments before a flame erupted from the exhaust pipe and curled beneath the car as if it were a venomous snake poised to strike.

  When he put me down, I looked over my shoulder, saw that traffic on Third had come to a standstill, and then started to run with Ben from the car just as a massive explosion shook the ground beneath us.

  Startled, I turned around and watched our limousine lift high off the ground and somersault in a ball of fire before it crashed down onto the pavement. When it hit the ground, metal collapsed against metal, and most of the cars parked alongside the street lit up in a chorus of lights and screaming alarms as if we’d just entered Armageddon.

  I felt Ben hug me close to him as a searing jolt of hot air rushed over us, and then I looked around to make certain that the four men who had been with us were still with us. They were.

  Thank God they were.

  As I looked at each of them, I saw that their faces were aglow with horror and the flickering orange light of fire as the limousine roared, crackled, and burned.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning, after a night of dealing with the police and telling them everything we knew, I woke on the same sofa I’d fallen into when Ben took me home.

  Sunlight was streaming through the windows to my left, and when I glanced down at myself, I saw that I was still was wearing my lavender evening gown. I felt discombobulated—completely out of it—and since Ben was nowhere near me, fear laced through me.

  I called out for him.

  “I’m here,” I heard him say.

  He’s in my office, I thought with a sense of relief. Probably at the computer…

  I brushed my hair out of my face as I heard him hurry down the stairs that emptied into the kitchen and down the hallway toward me. He was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, and I remembered why—Catherine’s blood had been all over his tux.

  He sat next to me and took me into his arms. “I wanted to undress you last night and tuck you into bed, but you said that you were too tired and that you just wanted to sleep here. Otherwise, I would have taken care of you.”

  “You have been taking care of me,” I said. “From the start. I don’t know how I could have gotten through any of this without you. I’m so grateful that you’re here.”

  “Do you remember what I said to you last night?”

  “That you’re in love with me?”

  “I meant all of it, Kate. I am in love with you again.”

  I looked up at him when he said that, saw the trace of vulnerability in his eyes, and then told him what I hadn’t had time to tell him the night before.

  “What you need to know is that I’m also in love with you.”

  When I said that, I could sense his relief and surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Just because I fell in love with Michael doesn’t mean that my love for you ever stopped. You always will be my first love. And right now, with you back in my life and after everything we’ve gone through over these past few days, I’m hoping that you’ll be my last love. Now, kiss me,” I said. “Because after last night, more than anything in the world, I just want to be loved and held by you.”

  When he kissed me, I closed my eyes and felt his love for me plunge deep into my soul.

  How has this happened? I thought as I held him close to me. How did we ever get here again?

  Fate, I answered. And thank God for it.

  When our lips parted, he asked me if I’d like coffee.

  “Have you had any yet?”

  “Two cups.”

  “I’d love some.”

  “How about if you shower and change, and I’ll make a fresh pot?”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “I suppose that, after what happened last night, I’m all over the news…”

  “You are.”

  “What are they saying?”

  “That you’re in danger. Because of what happened last night, many news outlets are now entertaining the idea that Michael’s death was not an accident.”

  “Because it wasn’t.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Who’s behind this, Ben?”

  “We’ll find out, Kate.”

  “Is Nick coming today?”

  “He’s flying to Nebraska.”

  “Nebraska?”

  He hesitated before he said, “That’s where Catherine’s family lives.”

  “He’s a good man,” I said as tears stung my eyes. “I’m so sorry for what happened to her. It’s devastating. I know that I’m—”

  “Stop,” he said. “What happened to her is tragic and incomprehensible, but you’re not responsible, Kate. Catherine knew exactly what she was getting into last night. And while all of us are mourning her loss, that doesn’t mean that any one of us is pointing a finger at you for her death. This morning, I spoke with Nick before he left. He agrees. We all went into last night with our eyes wide open. Does her death make all of us want to tear our hearts out? Of course it does. But you are not to blame.”

  “I think that I’m always going to feel responsible.”

  “In time, I hope that you won’t. ‘W’ killed her. And believe me when I say that we will find and crush that bitch. I can promise you that. We’ll make her pay for what she’s done.”

  “Remembering it all makes me sick. First Catherine, then the car chase.” I looked at him. “She wasn’t just toying with me when she came after our car. Last night, she wanted me dead, Ben.”

  “Before we discuss any of that, how about if you take a long, hot shower? Try to relax and clear your mind. I’ll have coffee ready for you the moment you come back into the kitchen. Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Coffee will be enough.”

  “Then shower,” he said. “Stand beneath the hot water. Take your time. I’ll be here when you get out. You can count on me.”

  “I know that I can,” I said as I stood and wrapped my arms around him. “And I thank God for that.”

  * * *

  After I was showered and dressed in a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt, I went into the kitchen and found Ben waiting for me.

  “Have you been here the entire time?” I asked.

  “Let’s just say that I might have waited for you to turn off the shower before I started the coffee. Because who wants stale coffee?” He turned to his side, reached for a white mug, and handed it to me. It was full. He must have poured it when he heard me coming down the stairs. “Black—just as you like it.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “We need to check your phone, because it’s been going off all morning. I want to make sure that you haven’t received any more texts.”

  “About that text—how did she know my number, Ben?”

  “That’s simple enough—whoever she’s working for knows it.”

  “So, a friend of mine is behind this?”

  “There are other ways to find your personal number, but yes, that could be the case. Does Bill or Maxine Witherhouse have your number?”

  “They do.”

  He reached for my clutch on the kitchen island, removed my phone from it, and handed it to me. After I unlocked it with my thumbprint, I gave it to him.

  “You look. I don’t want to.”


  But there were no other texts from her, just several voice messages from Laura, one from Jennifer, and many more from members of my team at the Red Cross, who clearly were concerned about me.

  “I should call Laura,” I said. “She’ll be out of her mind with worry at this point.”

  “I agree. Call her, but then I want access to your phone. I want to see who is in your contacts list, and if any names pop out at me. Are you OK with that?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then talk with your friend. I know you two are close. Right now, you need everyone’s support.”

  “What are your plans for today?”

  “I can either stay with you if you need me here, or I can go back to your office and continue to assess our options about how we go forward.”

  “Assess our options,” I said. “Read the news. Think about how we go forward. I’ll talk with Laura, and when I’m finished, I’ll bring you my phone.”

  “I love you, Kate.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He came over and kissed me on the lips. And then he really went there. “Michael might have been the love of your life, but what you need to know is that you’ve always been the love of mine.”

  * * *

  After I finished my first cup of coffee, I called Laura.

  “It’s me,” I said when she answered her cell.

  When she spoke, her voice sounded troubled. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since last night,” she said. “Thank God you called me back—I’ve been worried sick about you. How are you doing?”

  “I think I’m still in shock. But I’m grateful to have friends like you who care about me. That means everything, Laura.”

  “You have many friends who are worried about you, Kate. Look, I’m in my car now and on my way to pick up Jennifer—we were going to have lunch and talk about what happened last night. We were going to try to come up with some ways in which we could help you. But instead of lunch, how about if Jennifer and I just come over and give you the support you need? We won’t be long. I know that you and Ben have a lot on your plates right now. But a hug from each of us sure as hell can’t hurt.”