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Close Pursuit

Page 24

by Cindy Dees


  Sister Mary Harris was chipper when she came out to meet Katie in the waiting area. Even better, she was carrying a bundled pink blanket in her arms. Dawn was sleeping, but Katie didn’t care and held the baby close, cooing over her and cuddling her.

  “I’ve missed you so much, honey bunny,” she whispered.

  “She’s a good baby,” the nun reported. “Eats and sleeps like a champ and has a sunny personality.”

  “That’s my girl,” Katie murmured.

  “How’s Alex?” the nun asked without warning.

  A shadow crossed Katie’s heart, and she looked up at the nun sadly. “Not great. His father called him last night and wanted him to do something...unethical...for him. Alex agreed to do it.”

  Sister Mary Harris sat down on a stone bench and gestured for Katie to sit beside her. “That man has always had his hooks deep into his son. You have to understand—Alex had no one else. His father isolated him from other children and other people. Made the boy totally dependent on him. You could even say he brainwashed young Alex.”

  “So you’re saying Alex can’t say no to his father?”

  The nun sighed. “Alex said no plenty. Peter just made him pay every time he did. Alex used to come to school beaten black and blue.”

  Katie gulped.

  “Any time we asked him about his bruises, Alex always claimed it was martial arts training or boxing lessons. And maybe it truly was.” She added gently, “But maybe it wasn’t.”

  Katie spoke with quiet desperation. “The thing Peter asked Alex to do last night isn’t strictly illegal, yet it’s morally wrong. But Alex said he would do it anyway. I lost him. I thought I was getting through to him, but I failed.”

  “The Lord doesn’t give up on anyone the first time they fail, child. And that boy may do more illegal and immoral things before it’s all said and done. But I believe in my heart that he wants to be a good person and is doing everything in his power to become a good person.”

  “You’re saying I’m giving up on him too easily?”

  The nun shrugged. “I learned long ago never to tell people what to do. You have to look inside your own heart and listen to the urgings of that small, quiet voice deep down inside you. You must do what you think is best for you. And for Dawn.”

  Katie exhaled hard. “I don’t approve of what Alex is doing.”

  “That’s what you think of him. What do you feel about him?”

  A tear splashed onto Dawn’s fuzzy blanket and trembled there delicately. “I think I’m falling in love with him a little.” She added in a rush, “But that’s not enough. I have to be able to trust him, to believe in him, to respect him, if we’re going to build a life together.”

  “A family,” the nun murmured.

  “Exactly. I need a good man to raise Dawn with me. Not someone with no moral compass and living under the control of a monster.”

  The nun threw her a sympathetic look and closed her eyes, launching into silent prayer. Katie sat quietly beside the nun, absorbing the love and concern and compassion the elderly woman radiated.

  Had she reacted rashly? Judged Alex too harshly? Given up on him too quickly? Remorse for that angry phone call last night to André Fortinay poured through her. What was done was done, though. She’d sabotaged Alex, and she couldn’t take it back. She had no idea if he would even let her try to make amends to him. He’d been so angry last night. So cold and hard after the call from his father.

  Sister Mary Harris commented reflectively, “I never thought I’d see Alex feed a baby a bottle comfortably, but he did that. And I never thought I’d see him let a woman spend the night with him, either.”

  Katie’s gaze whipped to the nun, and her cheeks heated up. She blurted unwillingly, “You do know he’s been with lots of women, right?”

  The nun laughed gaily. “Of course I do.”

  Katie’s jaw dropped. She could not believe she was having girl talk with an eighty-year-old nun.

  “I’m not dead, you know. And just because I took a vow not to have sex doesn’t mean I’m not aware that it exists.”

  “Umm. Wow. Okay,” Katie mumbled.

  The nun chuckled and patted her knee. “You’re good for him. Better than any woman I’ve ever seen him with. Not that he actually has had any actual relationships with women. You’re the only who’s ever stuck around long enough to catch a glimpse of the real man.”

  “Yeah. And he does bad things and drove me away from him without batting an eyelash.”

  “Mark my words. He’s batting an eyelash.”

  If he was, he bloody well wasn’t letting her see it. Dawn woke and started to fuss as the telltale odor of a diaper in need of a change became evident.

  “Let me take her, child. Just do me one favor, Katie, dear.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Think about it before you give up on Alex.”

  Katie climbed in her little rental car and sat in the parking lot of the convent for several long minutes. Was Sister Mary Harris right? Had she overreacted? Not given Alex a break he deserved? Hope fluttered in her breast like a bird trying to fly, and it was nearly impossible to think clearly around the emotion. One thing was for sure. She’d fallen hard for him and was way more invested in him emotionally than she’d realized before she’d walked out on him.

  In a thoughtful frame of mind, she punched the address of Mike’s hospital into the GPS and drove out of the parking lot. She was maybe halfway there when she finally started to be aware of her surroundings again. Had that red sedan been behind her when she’d pulled out of the convent’s parking lot? She recalled seeing a car like that back in Chevy Chase. What were the odds it was going the exact same direction she was for so long?

  Traffic thinned as she exited the Beltway onto surface streets. The red car exited behind her. She shot through a yellow light and was dismayed to see the car run the red light behind her, causing a flare of honking horns. She was being followed!

  She was nowhere near the driver Alex was, and this subcompact car was no German sports car. She didn’t stand a chance of losing the tail. What was the harm in someone knowing she’d gone to a hospital to visit a patient?

  Goodness knew, Mike could take care of himself if anyone tried to mess with him. Last she’d heard, he worked for some superclassified military Special Ops group that operated way, way off the books. He was not a guy anyone should mess with in a dark alley.

  Vividly aware of the tail behind her, Katie kept her driving as normal as possible until she pulled into the hospital’s parking garage. The place was crammed, and she was forced to wind deeper and deeper into the underground structure in search of a parking spot. Finally, she found one at the very lowest level of the garage. She wedged into the space and got out, heading for the elevator in the claustrophobic gloom.

  The man came out of nowhere. He wore a ski mask and made no secret of his intent to mug her. She held out her purse and started yelling for help. The guy batted her bag away as he charged her. His shoulder barreled into her, spinning her around. She slammed into a car and its alarm went off, blaring deafeningly. Not that anyone would come check it out way down here.

  A fist connected hard with her jaw, snapping her head back and making her see stars. But she hadn’t had five brothers for nothing. She lashed out with her foot, connected with the guy’s shin so hard her toes shouted in pain.

  She shouted, “Fire!” at the top of her lungs and prayed someone was within earshot and would come investigate.

  Her attacker snarled wordlessly and slugged her in the stomach so hard it felt like something exploded inside her. She doubled over with a whoof of pain, right into the uppercut to the same spot on her jaw as before. He head snapped to the side. The concrete floor came up at her quickly, and that was the last thing she remembered.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ALEX BLINKED, HALF-AWAKE, as his cell phone rang somewhere close by. His head was splitting in two. He pulled a pillow over his head to muffle the damned ph
one until it stopped ringing. Except even after the caller gave up, the ringing continued in his ears.

  He rolled over to pass out again until his hangover abated.

  The phone rang again.

  Go away, whoever you are. As if he had to guess who it was. Katie.

  The phone commenced ringing a third time.

  Irritated all to hell, he rolled over on his back and slapped the nightstand with his outstretched hand. Groped around. Found the flat shape of his phone.

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” he snarled. “I told you, this is how I roll.”

  “I believe you’ve mistaken me for someone else, Mr. Peters.”

  Crap. Male voice. Formal. Unfamiliar. “Who is this?” he demanded.

  “Charles McCloud. I thought you might like to know that Katie has been admitted to a hospital. She was attacked a little while ago.”

  Alex sat bolt upright and cursed as his head exploded and his gut revolted. Holy shit. Katie. Heading fast for the toilet, he bit out, “What hospital?”

  “Walter Reed, Bethesda.”

  “Thanks.” He disconnected the call so Katie’s uncle wouldn’t hear him puking up last night’s whiskey. He ran cold water in the sink and stuck his head under it just long enough to drive the spikes out of his eyeballs. He toweled his hair as he raced around the room picking up and pulling on his discarded clothes. Keys. Where were his keys, dammit?

  He snatched up his phone and wallet and ran down the hall for the elevator that a family was currently climbing into. He barely caught the thing and slipped inside. The parents eyed him warily as they rode down in silence. He must look like shit. Tough.

  Katie was hurt. How bad was it? Who’d attacked her? Why in the hell had a high-ranking CIA official called to tell him? Had the CIA jumped her to get at him?

  Head spinning, he climbed into his car and headed for the northwest D.C. suburb of Bethesda. What time was it, anyway? The car clock said nearly 10:00 a.m. When was Katie attacked? Last night? Had she lain somewhere alone for hours until someone found her? How bad was she hurt? Why hadn’t she called him? The more questions he asked himself, the worse his head throbbed. The low-level hum of panic in his gut wasn’t helping matters one bit, either.

  Damn, he was out of practice at drinking. He’d forgotten how nasty he felt the day after. Time was when he hadn’t cared if he felt like this. But today of all days, he wished his head was clearer, that he was in better shape to help Katie. He forced himself to pay attention to the cars behind him, to catalogue makes and models in a running list as vehicles came and went behind him. As far as he could tell in his debilitated state, he wasn’t followed.

  He rushed into the emergency room and went to the check-in desk. “Katie McCloud?” he bit out.

  “You family?” the nurse asked briskly.

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitating. “How is she?”

  “Come with me.”

  He followed the nurse through a set of swinging doors and down a hallway. “What happened?” he asked tersely.

  “She was mugged in our parking garage. Lucky for her, someone found her pretty quickly.”

  “Have the police been called?”

  “Don’t know. I just work here.”

  “How bad is she hurt?”

  “Contusions. Swelling. Was unconscious when they brought her in.”

  Unconscious? He’d kill whoever did this to her. He asked grimly, “Was she sexually assaulted?”

  “Her clothing was intact when they brought her in.”

  Praise the Lord. “Purse missing?” he asked.

  “No. It was on her shoulder. She must have fought the guy off until someone showed up to scare him off.”

  Either that or her mugging was no mugging at all. He knew the bastards from both intelligence services wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get to him. This was exactly why his father had always preached never to get involved with anyone. Loved ones, even friends, were a liability a man like him could not afford.

  He rounded the corner into a small room and stopped in the doorway. Katie looked so pale and helpless tucked underneath a pile of blankets that his gut tightened in quick concern. A butterfly bandage on her left jaw covered a nasty lump. A scrape on her right forehead looked like sidewalk burn. She’d hit the ground, right there.

  “Concussion?” he muttered over his shoulder to the nurse.

  “Likely.”

  “Other injuries?”

  “Internist will be in shortly.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and was alarmed at how slowly Katie’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey, beautiful,” he murmured. “I hear you tried to go a few rounds with a bad guy.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked weakly.

  “Your uncle called me.”

  A faint frown puckered her brow. “How’d he know?”

  Alex shrugged. Good damned question. But he just smiled gently at Katie. “How do you feel?”

  “About like you look.”

  His smile widened. There was the ol’ McCloud spunk. “Can I get you anything?”

  “An industrial-strength painkiller for my headache would be lovely. And a glass of water. I’m thirsty.”

  She would not be allowed to have anything to eat or drink until surgery was ruled out, but he didn’t tell her that. A doctor stepped in just then and introduced himself briefly. “Well, young lady, your MRI shows no internal damage. Other than a mild concussion and that goose egg on your jaw, I’d say you’re going to live. Bet you’d like a painkiller long about now, though, wouldn’t you? Are you allergic to any medications?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll have the nurse bring you something. Bland foods for twenty-four hours, and someone needs to stay with you around the clock for the next few days. Will that be you, sir?”

  “Yes,” Alex answered firmly. “And I’m familiar with concussion aftercare. I’m a physician.”

  “Perfect. We’ll get her release paperwork going, then, and you’ll be out of here, Miss McCloud.”

  “I don’t need you to babysit me, Alex.”

  “Apparently, you do. Twelve hours by yourself and you end up in the emergency room.”

  She started to scowl, but it turned into a wince that seemed to derail her irritation.

  Alex expedited her release—it helped that he was a doctor himself and could casually write a check for her medical expenses. Before long an orderly had pushed her out to the front exit.

  The painkiller must be starting to take effect because Katie asked impatiently, “Can I please walk now?”

  “Okay, now,” the orderly finally said.

  Alex jumped forward to help her to her feet, and she frowned hard at him. “I’m not helpless. My brothers have slugged me that hard by accident, and I just fell and hit my head. I’ll be fine.”

  He refrained from listing the possible complications resulting from blows to the head and tucked her hand under his arm protectively. “You’re coming back to my place.”

  “I need to see my brother first.”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “Somewhere in this hospital. I was here to visit him.”

  Right. She’d been attacked in the hospital’s parking garage. He was losing his touch, having failed to wonder why she’d been there in the first place. He wasn’t that hungover. Or maybe he was that distracted by his worry for her.

  They turned around and approached the hospital’s information desk. He cut through the red tape briskly. “I’m Dr. Peters. I’m here to see a patient named McCloud.”

  “Michael McCloud,” Katie supplied.

  The receptionist answered promptly, “Third floor. Room 3017.” It was good being a doctor sometimes.

  Katie leaned against the elevator wall, and an urge to put an arm around her nearly overcame him. He frowned. Was he playing into the CIA’s hands by feeling so protective of her?

  They stepped out of the elevator and found her brother’s room without too much trouble. “I’l
l wait outside,” he said quietly.

  “Come on in and meet one of the famous McCloud boys.”

  He followed her into the room and stopped in shock as he spied the man lying in the bed.

  “You?” Michael McCloud demanded. “What the hell are you doing here?” He started to surge upright but subsided abruptly and lay back against his semi-inclined pillows, pressing a hand to his belly.

  Damndamndamndamndamn. The guy he’d stabbed in Zaghastan had been her brother?

  Katie was looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion. “You’ve met?” she asked.

  Alex answered reluctantly, “You might say that.”

  “He’s the fucker who stabbed me!” her brother exclaimed.

  Katie whirled on him, wincing in pain as she did so. “You stabbed my brother?”

  “Obviously, I didn’t know who he was. He was the guy following us on that four-wheeler in Zaghastan. I jumped him and he pulled a knife on me. So, yeah, I stabbed him.”

  Her jaw dropped, and burgeoning outrage sparked in her bright blue eyes.

  He added quickly, “In my own defense, I did treat his wound and save his life.”

  “But you stabbed him!”

  “He attacked me. Of course I stabbed him. We were in the middle of a war zone and people were trying to kill us. He came at me with a knife, and I fought back. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  “Get out,” she snapped.

  Okay, he probably deserved that. But she had a concussion of her own to deal with.

  “Out. Now!” She was getting agitated, which wasn’t great for her head. He threw up his hands and backed out of the room. But he went no farther than the nurse’s station a few steps away. He begged a bottle of over-the-counter pain meds and downed a handful of the painkillers dry.

  How in the hell was he going to make this right? He really hadn’t borne any ill will toward her brother. It had been just business. War was violent and bloody. Kill or be killed. He’d actually shown extraordinary mercy in not killing the guy. By rights, she ought to be thanking him. But she wouldn’t see it that way. He’d done the right thing—again—and again he wasn’t going to get any credit for it.

 

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