a Touch of Ice

by L. j. Charles

  I’d somehow missed out on a whole lot here, and my curiosity was kicking into overdrive. Not good when I could barely stay awake. I needed to get off this gurney and do some surreptitious touching and…no, that wasn’t going happen. Not anytime soon. So, ask questions instead? Not a viable plan unless I could get my head and mouth to work as a cohesive unit.

  Violet was talking again. “No, I want the bastard dead so he can’t hurt the people I love. El named him Monster Man today. That’s when my spidey sense took over. Sometimes she’s right on with that intuition of hers. Makes me crazy when I’m trying to protect her.

  “What did you get on the license plate?” Adam asked.

  Wait a minute. Adam asked? He was running the plate, wasn’t he?

  “Green, two-thousand seven Jaguar, custom made with everything in order, registration, VIN, even taxes, all up to date and legal.”

  “Have they told you Pierce is here?”

  Sometimes it’s really confusing to eavesdrop, and on that one they’d completely lost me. Who the hell were ‘they’? And whoever West and Pierce were, the combination of their names made Violet seriously twitchy. I simply had to remember what questions to ask.

  Eventually Violet muttered, “Good to know I’ll have backup.”

  “You’ve always had backup.” I could hear the love in Adam’s response.

  I gathered my strength and forced my eyelids open just a slit, saw Violet take his hand. “I know. But Pierce is a whole different thing.”

  Yep. There was the definite possibility they were an item. And I really, seriously, had to remember to ask about the West-slash-Pierce connection.

  Wait. She was talking again. “Let’s get this official stuff done so I can focus on El before she wakes up and starts thinking again.”

  Too late. I was already thinking. Very busy thinking, until blackness drowned out any and all thought.

  The next thing I knew, there was a bright light shining in my eyes, I had a numb hip, and the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen were staring intently into mine. They were attached to whoever was responsible for the bright light, making it difficult to get a good look at him, which I wanted to do if only to be sure he was real.

  It could be I was still out of it and this was all part of a strange, possibly drug-induced, fantasy—all these handsome men suddenly appearing in my otherwise bereft-of-men life made it seem, not only possible but probable I’d moved into another dimension. Then again, maybe I was just in shock. Had I imagined all that stuff I had overheard earlier?

  “Glad to see you’re back with us,” a deep voice rumbled above me. “I’m Tynan Pierce, the doc who’s going to sew you up.” He proceeded through a series of person, place, time questions that I mumbled through. Tongue wasn’t working well, dry mouth, fuzzy head. Still, I knew who I was.

  And, Pierce? I knew I’d heard that name. Couldn’t quite place it, but it nagged at the back of my mind. Why couldn’t I remember?

  “The wound doesn’t look too bad, but the bullet nicked a vessel and you’ve lost some blood. We’re hydrating you and I’ll need to debride the wound. The good news is the bullet went straight through, leaving a fairly clean edge for me to work with. I’ve given you a local anesthetic so you’ll feel pressure but no pain while I’m sewing you up.”

  He rolled me on my side, and pulled on some gloves. “How’d you get shot?”

  The smell of the antiseptic was strong and the room seemed to be sliding around.

  “What?” I mumbled.

  “You don’t look like my usual gunshot victim.”

  I cautiously turned my head to catch a glimpse of him. Took in the thick black hair and those azure eyes, not as dark as mine, more vibrant. I had a short discussion with myself over what to focus on—the wavy black hair, or the victim comment. Was my voice in working order yet? My throat felt raw but, what the heck, maybe I could produce more than a mumbling response.

  I opened my mouth. Nothing happened. I tried clearing my throat and some garbled, grating noise cut into the silence. A nurse put a straw to my lips and I swallowed a mouthful of room temperature water, tried again.

  “Wrong place, wrong time,” I croaked. “Old barn. Hurt like hell. Wham. Lying on ground holding hip. Violet kneeling next to me.” I stopped to take a breath and drink more water. The words weren’t coming out too smoothly. Or with a whole lot of detail.

  “Must have been trespassing. Made someone mad. Although—” I tried to point to my hip and a nurse grabbed my hand. Guess I wasn’t supposed to move.

  “Although?” he asked, and I felt pressure in my hip. Probably he was doing the stitching thing. Definitely not a good idea for me to look.

  “Getting shot. Extreme. All he had to do was ask.”

  “Who?”

  “The owner. Would’ve left if he asked. Didn’t have to shoot me.” I sounded like I’d had a few too many glasses of wine, but my voice was working. More or less.

  “Um-humm, some people are possessive of their property.”

  I closed my eyes and drifted off again. Until I could get out of here and take control of my life there didn’t seem to be much reason to stay alert, blue eyes and black hair notwithstanding.

  The next time I woke up, Violet hovered by the side of my bed, and the man I’d seen through blurry consciousness stood next to her.

  A ton of questions were bouncing around in my head, but one zipped to the top of the list. “Who the hell shot me?”

  “Not me. I did my best bat-hell imitation to get you here before you bled all over the car.”

  “I have a vague memory of that. Something about a semi and a minivan.” My gaze settled, curious, on the guy I’d pegged for Adam Stone.

  It didn’t take but a second before he did the intro. “I’m Adam Stone, Ms. Gray. Detective, Raleigh PD. We haven’t met, but Violet and Mitchell Hunt have spoken of you. I’ll need to ask some questions about the gunshot wound. What you were doing, and why. Violet gave me her statement, so this shouldn’t take long.” He shot a glare in her direction, a clear invitation to leave us alone.

  She patted my shoulder. “I’ll be right outside. If he gives you any trouble, yell.”

  This was great, would give me an opportunity to get to know how this man fit into Violet’s life. I smiled up at him. “I’m El. Good to meet you.”

  His angled jaw tipped in response. “El, then.”

  “My mind is floating. Ask stuff fast or I’ll probably lose it.”

  “Describe what happened today. Take your time.”

  I gave him an abbreviated but complete summary of what happened at the barn, leaving out my hinky touch thing. Didn’t go into a lot of detail about Tony because he already knew all about that.

  And I didn’t touch Adam.

  It took a lot of will power, especially with my mind so foggy, but I couldn’t trespass, not into Violet’s love life. Okay, yeah. I had to curl my hands into fists to keep from touching him. It would have been so easy to shake his hand. But I didn’t do it, and my curiosity would probably never forgive me.

  I’m not a good patient, but the sedative the hospital sent home improved my ability to be accommodating, and I snuggled into bed like a good girl. It had been a rough day, what with a gunshot wound, eavesdropping, and moral dilemmas. Violet insisted on staying the night, so I couldn’t be safer and drifted into a deep sleep.

  It wasn’t the usual nightmare that woke me. But something triggered the pricklies crawling over my skin. Dark. No sign of daylight creeping through the blinds. I eased my sore body very slowly out of bed, limped to the bedroom door, and peeked out.

  Nothing. Not that I could see, anyway.

  But the pricklies were taking over, and my imagination created a scenario where the bad guys invaded my home and were holding Violet captive. Didn’t take long for me to whip that under control. Nothing felt…sinister.

  As I stepped into the hall, bits and pieces of what I’d overheard in the emergency room wove through my mind and slowly drifte
d into a semi-coherent memory. It wasn’t a conscious decision to keep my presence a secret, more like an intuitive command.

  I pressed my body tightly against the hallway wall, angling my head just so to give me a partial view of the living room and kitchen. Violet inched into my line of sight, and did she…? Oh, crap, she did reach for her gun, the movement barely perceptible. A chill catapulted up my spine, sapping the strength from my legs.

  My mind frantically searched for something I could use as a weapon. Nothing. Empty hallway. Violet blew out a sigh, and tucked the gun into her waistband at the small of her back.

  She would have kept it in hand if there were bad guys. Still, something felt wrong. Something besides my gun phobia, that is. I drew in an open-mouthed breath, tasting the air. Didn’t taste like fear. But the scene playing out in my living room wasn’t right, maybe because it seemed…frighteningly normal. Normal enough that I ignored the throbbing in my hip and inched my way down the hall so I could hear what was going on in the kitchen.

  I could barely see the edge of Violet’s shirt, make that Adam’s shirt, as she leaned against the door jamb. “So, a house call. How very doctorly of you, Pierce.” Her voice a statement, steady, without inflection.

  “A. J.” Ah, now that deep rumble of a voice I immediately recognized and associated with vivid blue eyes. Irish eyes. But A.J.? Who the hell…

  “Why did you dust off your MD?” Mild curiosity on Violet’s part.

  “Good cover. Flexible hours. I’m in and out. It’s efficient. Easy access to patient records—seems to be some gunshot wounds going around lately. Besides, my patients love me.”

  I could hear the grin in his voice, and a burning need to see what was going on had my feet sliding along the bamboo floor. Stealthy. Silent.

  The scrape of a chair had me jerking back, my breathing suddenly ragged.

  “I’ll give you what I’ve got but it isn’t much.” She sounded resigned. Fabric rustled. Guess Violet must have sat down. I really wanted to see and inched forward another step.

  “El and I have been here for six years. You know about her touch thing?”

  “Yeah. Through Adam. He thinks she’s accurate on most counts. I’ve been in this business long enough, and I’m Irish enough to believe it. Go on.”

  Huh. My touch thing didn’t seem to faze him. Good to know.

  “She touched Mitch at the beach, saw Tony Civitelli’s body, and has a new mission in life to find the killer. I’ve been trying to herd cats as best I can without breaking my cover and getting killed. I’m sure you know more about this than I do. What I don’t understand is why Delano West is here. Tony wasn’t worth his time. West is only into big bucks and financing terrorism.”

  What? West? Who the hell was West? Another name I was positive I should know. It is so inconvenient to hit your head. The hall did a bit of spin and I dug my fingers against the wall to stay upright. Now was not the time to be dizzy. Not when my curiosity was determined to hear his response. Oh, yeah. I wanted to hear what the man had to say. Craved it with every fiber of my being.

  “You’re sure he’s not after you?”

  Whoa. After Violet?

  “No. He’s unpredictable. But I don’t see how or why I’d suddenly hit his radar after six years. I keep a low profile. I’m out of the business. Didn’t intend to ever pick up a sniper rifle again until West showed up when I ran that plate.”

  Sniper? Rifle? I smashed my lips together and plastered my body to the wall. It’d be a seriously bad time to shriek or pass out. What the hell was going on? Terrorism? Her cover? Talk about a lot of crazy, disjointed information. And that name. Delano West. It kept nagging at the back of my mind.

  “I noticed your AW Covert is packed, but clean and ready to use.” Smug. The good doctor sounded just this side of obnoxious.

  Violet sucked in a breath deep enough to be audible and then let it out with a whoosh. “I know you, Pierce. You’re good at your job, very good. Possibly the best since I retired.”

  What? Even though I couldn’t see, there was no doubt she’d said that with a killer smile.

  “So, I have to ask, did you leave anything in my home?”

  His voice was clear and steady. “Of all the people in the world, A.J., I do not want you angry with me. I trust you as much as I trust anyone, and no, I did not bug your home.” Pause. “I’d tell you if I did. I’m here because you’re officially cleared to work on this.”

  Violet chuckled. Harsh. “Always good to be cleared for work when I’m ass-deep in a situation.”

  “We’re good together. Always have been.”

  My mind was reeling. Who the hell were these people? Planting bugs? AW Covert’s? Just when I was beginning to get a handle on understanding universe-speak, it went multi-lingual on me.

  “Looks like I better prepare for a confrontation. Damn, I wanted West to disappear, for that part of my life to be over and done. Since he’s still in business, he’s mine—a loose-end I left untied and I need to finish it, to keep the people I care about safe. The question is, if West isn’t here to kill me, why is he here?”

  Bloody hell. This was getting worse by the minute.

  “We’ll find out. Since you’re at the top of his hit list, will you wear a tracking device, let me monitor you until we catch him?”

  “No, but I’ll put you on speed-dial. My contact list seems to be attention-catching lately.”

  “I’m not even gonna ask about that one A.J., and I’ve been here too long.”

  “Before you go, you should probably fill me in on what you want me to tell Everly about your visit?”

  Yeah. What were they going to tell me? I had a vested interest in the answer to that one.

  “Not a damn thing.” Pierce sounded stunned. “Oh, the touch thing. You mean she’ll know I was here?”

  “If she touches me, the chair you’re sitting in, or anything else you’ve come in contact with, yep, she’ll know.”

  “Well, shit. Will it work to tell her I made a house call? Since West is involved, I’d rather keep her out of it if possible. Need-to-know only on this one, and there shouldn’t be a damn thing she needs to know.”

  Okay. I seriously had to stay calm. He was doing the enigmatic, secretive thing that triggers my temper. Best that I couldn’t move well or I’d have been in the kitchen by now. Eavesdropping sucks.

  “Come on, Pierce. I’m not good with cover stories. My job was in and out, quick and clean. I can tell you this, it’s unlikely El will believe anything but the truth. Her intuitive radar is set on high, and she rarely misses a beat.”

  That one made me smile. Violet thought I was quick. Now all I had to do was live up to her expectations.

  Fifteen

  Surely the ache terrorizing every bone in my body couldn’t be from a simple gunshot to the hip. I eased out of bed and stumbled toward the kitchen, coffee being high on my list of priorities.

  “Hi sleepyhead.” Violet’s smile was cheerful, her full lips glossed in a pale pink. She handed me a steaming cup of coffee. With cinnamon. How did she manage to be all warm and friendly, brew my favorite coffee, and still keep track of who knew what? It boggled the mind. I, on the other hand, had a serious case of the grumpies and couldn’t act worth a darn.

  “Morning,” I growled, taking a sip of the fragrant brew. Better. “I can’t remember if Dr. Pierce said I could take a shower or not. Fair warning: if I can’t, you should leave now, before I start throwing things and inadvertently do serious damage to our friendship.”

  Violet grinned. “I get that and it’s a go on the shower.”

  “Give me ten minutes to get human.” I carried my coffee back down the hall toward a life-sustaining, steamy hot shower. The aches and pains diminished to a dull roar under the pulsing heat, but I was still careful washing my hair, not that I had any trouble avoiding the knot on the side of my head. It throbbed with unrelenting persistence. I dried, carefully avoiding the bumps and bruises from where I’d slammed into the g
round.

  Dressed in a pair of loose, drawstring linen pants and an over-sized, white linen blouse, I took a quick look in the mirror to insure my appearance wouldn’t scare small children, and then headed back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee and some breakfast.

  “Thank you,” I said as I came up behind Violet and reached around her for the coffee pot. “What you did for me yesterday, and staying here last night, that means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. Feeling better since your shower? You look almost normal, except for all that wet hair. Want me to fetch the dryer?”

  I shook my head, and a shaft of pain zinged through my temples. Note to self: keep head still. “No. I’ll let it air-dry today. And how about if I make you breakfast? It’s the least I can do since you played nurse all night.”

  “Deal. I’ll run over to my place, shower, dress, and check my calendar. Do you have any appointments scheduled today?”

  “Nope. It’s a free day for me, but when you come back, if you could grab my calendar off my desk, I’ll check on tomorrow’s schedule. Breakfast will be ready in thirty. That okay with you?”

  Violet checked her watch. “No problem.”

  I opened the refrigerator in search of eggs and milk. It felt like a French toast morning. After mixing the batter, I snagged a pillow from the sofa and plopped it down on a kitchen chair. No way was my hip gonna be happy without a cushy surface to support it.

  My fingers grazed the chair as I turned toward the stove. It was the one Pierce sat in.

  The itchy sensation that had been nudging the back of my brain settled into an image of exactly what Dr. Tynan Pierce looked like sitting in my kitchen. Breathtakingly wow. I hated to leave the image, but hunger tugged at my taste buds, so I got back to the French toast. I was dipping a slice of bread in the batter when Violet’s footsteps thudded on the stairs.

  “Could you put some plates on the table?” I asked, needing a minute to pull my thoughts together. The image of Pierce was hanging around my mind with a tenacity that wouldn’t quit, and I wasn’t sure how much of my nighttime snooping I wanted to confess. Ohmygod. I was acting like them. All secretive and spy-like. I bit my lip to keep from grinning.