“Too early to tell,” Frost answered.
The chief of police cleared his throat and spoke up. “I did manage to question him when he came to as the paramedics were with him.”
“What did he say?” Liam asked.
“He corroborated what you said about Crone hiring him. He seemed more than happy to spill all of Crone’s dirty secrets.”
“Blood loss will do that to you,” Liam quipped, ice nipping at his words.
Frost glanced at Liam. “He alleges that you were going to kill him.”
“If I was going to kill him, he would be dead,” Liam deadpanned. “I was just doing what I had to do to save my wife and child.”
“No one blames you for that,” the chief said instantly.
Liam inclined his head. “I appreciate that.”
I steered the conversation back to where it needed to be. “Crone specifically ordered that man to break into our house and kill me?” I asked.
“He said he is willing to testify to it.”
I made a noise. “If he survives.”
“Which is why we are getting sworn testimony in writing and recording right away,” Frost said. “And of course we will have guards on him twenty-four-seven.”
“Can Crone go back to prison for this?” I asked, hopeful.
“It’s a possibility.”
Liam made a rude noise. “That means no.”
“No. It means we will do everything we can to put him away again.”
“So he can buy his way out again.”
“I’m choosing to ignore your disparaging remarks about the ability of the FBI because I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal tonight,” Frost told Liam.
Liam opened his mouth to say something utterly stupid, so I made a sound of distress. He flew to my side and was leaning over me in record time.
“Get a nurse!” he bellowed before even asking if I was okay. “A nurse, goddammit!” he yelled when no one moved.
I felt kind of guilty for making him stress this way, but it was the only way to get him to shut up. Besides, I wasn’t lying. I was just being a little dramatic.
“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, his tone much gentler toward me. “Is it the baby?”
“The baby is fine,” I said quickly. One thing that was not okay was him thinking our child was somehow in harm’s way. “See.” I pointed to the monitor, which showed a healthy, strong heartbeat.
“Okay, then tell me.” He cajoled, leaning over me a little more.
“My head hurts,” I replied. That was the total truth. I would not recommend getting stitches there. “So does my hand.” I held up the hand with bandages covering the stitched areas.
“Is everything okay in here?” the nurse asked, rushing into the room.
“She’s in pain,” Liam told her. “Fix it.”
“I can get you a mild pain pill—”
“No pills!” we both said at the same time.
“How about some ice?” she suggested.
I nodded, grateful. “That sounds good.”
The nurse nodded and then turned toward the men crowding the room. “She needs her rest, gentlemen. Can’t this wait ‘til tomorrow?”
They all turned sheepish and mumbled various replies. The nurse bustled out to get some ice, and Liam brushed some wild, hacked hair out of my face.
“Time to go,” he said, gesturing for everyone to get out.
“We’re sorry to have kept you for so long, Mrs. Mattison,” the chief of police said. “If you need anything at all, just call.”
“Thank you,” I said, offering him a grateful smile.
“I’ll be in touch,” Agent Frost declared, and it sounded ominous. I looked forward to the day when the FBI wouldn’t “be in touch.”
Liam escorted everyone out into the hall, and I listened to the low timbre of his voice. It was soothing, and I yawned.
The nurse came back in, clucking her tongue and carrying two cold packs. “Poor thing,” she said, checking the monitor before facing me.
“Thank you,” I said when she placed one of the packs around my hand with the stitches, then the other near the wound on my head. I winced when the pack touched me, and she nodded in understanding.
“Head wounds are tender. And you have some swelling yet. I’m not sure what happened to you, but from the looks of your hair and scalp, I’d say you’re lucky all you needed was some stitches and this ice pack.”
“Very lucky.” I agreed. It was one of the reasons I hadn’t totally fallen apart tonight. What happened was horrible, and I knew once it fully set in, I would be dealing with the effects for quite some time.
But right now, all I could feel was grateful that I was okay, as was my husband and son.
The nurse passed Liam on the way out and pulled the door around as she went, closing out the bustle in the hallway and leaving us blissfully alone.
“Lay with me.”
He stopped beside the bed and frowned. “I don’t think—”
“Please.” I felt the fresh prick of tears behind my eyes and blinked them back.
“Don’t cry.” He soothed and kicked off his boots. The shirt he was wearing had blood on it, and I found myself fixated on it, wondering if it was my blood or the blood of the man who tried to kill me.
Liam followed my gaze and swore. He ripped the shirt up over his head and tossed it on the chair he’d dragged close. “I didn’t think about it,” he explained.
“I know,” I said softly. “I didn’t either, until just now.”
He climbed on the bed, gingerly moving up to my side and settling down as if he were holding a scalding, overfilled bowl of soup and he was terrified of spilling.
I turned my face toward him and smiled. He adjusted the ice on my head and kissed my nose. Since he couldn’t wrap his arm around my waist, he settled for laying a hand over my heart and resting one of his ankles over mine.
“Thank you,” I murmured, settling a little bit closer to him. My eyes drifted closed, and I laid the hand without stitches over his where it rested on me.
“If I could take your pain away, I would,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “You are.”
Liam
The man I grinded up in the garbage disposal died in the hospital. He managed to come through a lengthy surgery, only to die during the night.
The official ruling was that his heart wasn’t able to withstand all the trauma to the rest of his body.
The unofficial ruling and my personal opinion? Someone slipped into his room and injected a little something into his IV to make it look like his ticker gave out.
Considering Agent Frost could neither confirm nor deny the theory just proved I was right.
It was just too fucking convenient that the only man who could provide damning testimony to potentially put Crone back in the slammer was no longer alive to give it. He died before he could give his sworn testimony to the FBI—also very convenient.
And now here we were, almost two weeks from that hell night, and the FBI had bupkis in building a case strong enough to put Crone away.
Bellamy had nightmares. She’d wake up screaming and holding her stomach, begging for the baby to be spared. Even though the kitchen had been entirely cleaned, the sink replaced, and the garbage disposal completely removed, I’d still find her periodically staring down the drain as though that man’s pulped-up hand was down there.
I had to do something.
Waiting around for Crone to strike again was just not an option. Expecting the FBI to do something was laughable.
Alex cautioned about what it might cost me to kill Crone. From where I stood, knowing that asshole was dead was priceless.
It was our only way out. Even if the FBI could make the case against him for what happened, it wouldn’t be over. He’d keep sending people, even from his cell. As long as Perry Crone breathed, my family was at risk.
We drew closer to the arrival of my son, and this wasn’t the kind of world
I wanted him to be born into. He deserved better.
My wife deserved better.
I had to kill Crone.
I couldn’t go to him, though. Getting close to a notorious crime boss would be next to impossible. Even if I managed, there would be too many people who could possibly place me at the scene of his murder.
That left one option.
Lure him out. If Crone himself came at us and I killed him, I wouldn’t need an alibi. Self-defense would stand.
And we would finally be free.
“I thought you said you wanted to keep it quiet as long as possible that you were returning to the pros,” Bellamy said quietly, glancing around warily.
“Joiner says we need the press. It keeps sponsors happy. It brings in a bigger paycheck.”
Bellamy frowned. “If this is about the house…”
I spun to fully face her and palmed her shoulders. Bending so I was eye level with her, I spoke. “This isn’t about the house, sweetheart. I could never make another paycheck again, snowboarding or from the resort, and we would still have more than enough money to live on for the rest of our lives.”
“Then why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
“It’s not sudden. I’ve been training for months.”
She didn’t seem convinced, and I didn’t want her to worry. Dragging my hands from her shoulders to clasp her fingers, I answered, “You said you followed my career while we were apart?”
She nodded. “For as long as I could.”
Just the reminder of why she stopped was enough to strengthen my resolve to do this. “Then you know I did interviews and press all the time. It’s part of the business, part of being a pro athlete.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she thought it over. “Tom said this would help you?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
She nodded, making her hair sway around her shoulders. After her head healed enough, she’d gotten her hair cut so it was all the same length. She came home in tears because she’d lost so much length and was worried I would hate it.
Like I could ever. The honey-colored locks were just past her shoulders now, and I thought it was beautiful. Hell, I would think she was gorgeous even if she was bald, and I told her as much.
“Are you up for this today? After everything that’s happened, is it too much?” I asked, worried.
She made a dismissive sound. “I’m fine. Being almost murdered so many times barely fazes me anymore.”
“Bells,” I said, partly shocked and totally horrified.
She rubbed a soothing palm over my scruff. “Sorry. That was a bad joke.”
Joke or not, part of it was true. All the more reason I had to do this. I didn’t have a choice.
She sighed. “We have to live our life, Liam. Crone took a lot from me. From you. We can’t let him take any more.” After a slight pause, she cocked her head to the side. “Besides. Maybe all the extra press attention will make it harder for him to get to us. With them camped out everywhere to get a shot of you, sending hitmen will be a lot harder.”
Maybe. But I was hoping like hell it actually drew him in. Perry Crone was a smart man, but he was cocky. No doubt, after buying his way out of prison, he was feeling pretty untouchable right about now.
Good.
Cocky men made mistakes. I was hoping he would see this interview and know I was calling him out.
I seized her face between my hands, marveling at how they swallowed up her cheeks. She was so small… but so big. “I love you so goddamn much, Mrs. Mattison. You got balls bigger than most of the men I know.”
She smiled as I said the first part, but then she blanched and wrinkled her nose. “Thank you?”
I threw back my head and laughed.
“You’re right, though,” I said, a teasing glint in my eye. “This interview will draw attention, and people will be curious about you. About us. After all, I’m returning as a married man.”
“Whatever will your groupies say?” she exclaimed, sarcastic.
Joiner approached, calling my name. “They’re ready for you.”
“Be right there,” I called.
“Go stand with Alex,” I told her, gesturing toward him with my chin.
She rolled her eyes.
“Give me some sugar.” I leaned down for my kiss, but she turned her cheek, and my lips grazed her ear.
“You’re gonna pay for that later.” I promised.
A spark of desire lit her blue eyes, and she smirked.
Instead of kissing her, I leaned down and held her stomach. “Daddy has to go to work. You stay here with Mommy.”
“Where else is he going to go?” Bellamy wondered above me.
Caressing her stomach, I whispered, “Love you.”
He kicked right into my palm. My stomach flipped with the action. I guess he really did know my voice.
I pulled back to head toward the interview, but Bellamy caught my hand. “I changed my mind.”
I raised a brow. “Did you now?”
She nodded once. “I want my kiss.”
I pursed my lips, considering.
“Mattison!” Joiner yelled, impatient.
I swooped in and planted one on her, then jogged off toward the television crew. I had a comeback to announce and, hopefully, a hook to bait.
Bellamy
This television interview was sudden. The decision to announce his return to the pros and his intention to compete in the Olympic men’s halfpipe next winter seemed kind of abrupt.
There’d been whispers about his return for months now. He never acknowledged them.
Until now.
And boy, he wasn’t just announcing on a local channel or calling the newspaper. Nope. Not my husband.
He had the biggest news channel on TV out here to interview him and a few other networks to talk to as well. One of them being a huge entertainment show that mostly covered celebrity news.
To the extreme—that was Liam.
Still. I couldn’t help wondering why today. Why the sudden change of heart?
I stood off to the side next to Alex (God forbid I stand alone!) and watched Tom Joiner bounce around like a golden retriever, smiling like a car salesman, and laughing at every joke.
“Kiss-ass,” I muttered under my breath.
Alex cackled. “Ain’t that the truth? But hey, he’s only doing it for our boy. He does all this so Liam can concentrate on boarding.”
“He does a good job.”
Alex grunted, which I took as an agreement. Watching Liam’s coach, I was more convinced that maybe he had been pushing for this. Maybe he was the reason for today.
The director, or whoever, yelled for everyone to be silent, and then the cameras and lights were on. Liam, standing next to some anchor wearing a buttload of makeup, looked relaxed and comfortable as if he were with friends and not about to be broadcast on television.
“I’m here with Olympic medalist Liam Mattison who, up until an unfortunate injury, was considered the best snowboarder in the world. In fact, Liam still holds many records for the men’s halfpipe.” The anchor introduced him. “Liam, we are thrilled to have you with us today in what is your first interview in nearly two years.”
He shifted and smiled, his good looks nearly melting the camera. “Thank you for coming out to talk to me today. It’s been a long road, but it’s good to be back.”
“Are you back?” the interviewer pounced. “Is that why we’re all here today?”
“I thought you came ‘cause you missed me,” he quipped, smiling.
People around laughed lightly, and the journalist giggled like a school girl.
I suppressed an eye roll.
“I think I can say with full authority that we have all missed you. Not only were you the best, but you were always very well loved.” Liam chuckled, and the interviewer continued. “That’s why we are so anxious to know. Is Liam Mattison returning to snowboarding?”
“I am.” He confirmed. “I’ve been train
ing for a while now. You’re going to be seeing me on the halfpipe real soon.”
The woman beamed as though she’d just unearthed some magic cure for something horrific and turned toward the camera. “You heard it here first! Liam Mattison is coming back for his title.”
“I definitely have a lot of work to do before I can even think about that,” he replied humbly. My husband was a confident man, but he wasn’t so arrogant to declare he would be the best once again.
“You were forced out of competing when you suffered a serious knee injury that required surgery, physical therapy, and a long recovery time. It was rumored that you would never return.”
He nodded. “That’s right, and to be honest, I didn’t expect to.”
“So why now? What’s brought you back?”
“Besides the fact that my knee has been cooperating?” he asked, smiling. When he shifted, a lock of his hair fell onto his forehead and shielded part of his gray eyes.
The woman laughed, and he pushed the hair off his face and continued. “Life is short, and I decided I didn’t want my career to end the way it did.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I think most of our viewers have seen the headlines about the tragic death of your father, Renshaw Mattison.”
Liam nodded, all traces of charm wiped from his face as a sober look took over. “He was murdered.”
I gasped lightly and started forward. This interview was about snowboarding, not an excuse to exploit something infinitely painful to my husband!
Alex slid an arm around my waist and pulled me back. I made a sound and glanced over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Let him do this,” he whispered against my ear.
“You can’t possibly think this is good for him,” I whisper-argued back.
“I think Liam is doing exactly what he needs to be doing.”
I paused and started to turn at whatever it was I heard in his voice.
Alex made a sound and touched my stomach. “Damn, girl, you’ve put on a few.”
I pulled away, gasping. “I’m pregnant, jackass!”
Someone nearby shushed us.
Alex snickered, and I glared at him. “You just wait until I tell Liam you told me I’m fat!”
Frostbite (BearPaw Resort Book 3) Page 27