Hart To Hart

by Vella Day

  The pieces fell into place. He was the younger man in the gray suit who was sitting next to El. Adrenaline and hate slammed through Vic’s veins. He popped up to his knees, ignoring the slashing agony rippling over his body, and stood. With a short, quick burst, he snapped the plastic to free his hands.

  Darryl’s gun cocked. “Don’t move.”

  If Vic thought he could win the battle, he would attack. The ass deserved to die.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Vic warned.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As much as Ellie wanted to reach Vic and help him, she didn’t think it was a good idea for the two of them to go to this farm without the cops. Sharon might own a gun, but they’d be no match against a man like Darryl Grainger. “What exactly are you going to do once we get there?”

  “Take down the jerk. He lied to me. I won’t stand for that.” Sharon slapped her palm against the wheel.

  This wasn’t good. Sharon wasn’t thinking rationally. Ellie’s stomach burned and her throat had turned dry about six miles ago. “This isn’t about a woman scorned. Darryl Grainger is a dangerous man. He tried to kill my daughter and ran Vic off the road.”

  “All the more reason to shoot his ass.”

  Holy Mary, mother of God. Did Vic know his secretary was a loose cannon?

  Sharon took the next turn too fast, slamming Ellie against the door, banging her head against the window. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry.” Sharon sounded sincere, but this woman was crazier than Darryl.

  “Sharon. Ah, we need to think about this. You can’t just go in half-cocked and storm in there with your gun. He could shoot you.”

  “I’ve thought about it plenty.” Sharon jerked the car off the road onto a dirt drive. “He’ll be too shocked to see me to get off a clean shot.”

  “He might be shocked, but it’s against the law to run in and kill him.”

  “Not planning on killing anyone. Just want to hurt him. A lot.”

  Sharon hadn’t thought this through. “You’ll go to jail. You want that?”

  “I’ll do what I have to in order to protect the boss. Besides, it might be worth it to see Darryl squirm and cry.” She drew up behind a large tree halfway down the drive. What was once a nice house was now in sad disrepair. An equally forlorn looking barn and corral sat in back. A few of the barn slats were missing, as was part of the roof.

  “As soon as I park, you hide in the back seat. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise—assuming he’s even there. Darryl won’t hurt me. He’s a coward.”

  He wasn’t a coward when he’d shot at Charlotte or tried to burn down a house. Then Ellie keyed in on the part about Vic possibly being alone and a trickle of hope seeped in. “You think he might have left Vic in the barn?” His cell phone implied he was there, but a chance existed that Darryl had taken Vic’s phone. She refused to think the reason why.

  Sharon slowed. “Won’t know until I get in there.” She cut the engine. “Now get into the back and keep down.” Sharon tossed the car keys to Ellie. “Just in case I don’t make it out.”

  This wasn’t good. Ellie opened her door and leaned out. “Hey. I see a car on the side. It’s a black sedan.”

  “Shit. That’s the kind Darryl drives.”

  Ellie couldn’t tell if Sharon was worried or pissed. “Tell me your plan.”

  “My plan is to look through one of those missing slats and see where he is. Then I’ll rush him.”

  Sharon might be a good aim, but Ellie bet it was only when Sharon was trying to hit a paper target or a tin can—not a human. “I’ll come with you. Not inside, but I’ll look, too.”

  “No, you stay here and let the cops know I’m inside.”

  This was stupid. “When they see another car, they’ll proceed with caution. You want me to call Detective Lawson again? He’ll figure we got here first.”

  “Don’t bother. He’ll tell you to stay put.”

  That was because Trent was a smart man.

  Sharon whipped out her gun from her purse and started toward the barn. Ellie didn’t want to be stuck in the back in case things went south. She slid over to the driver’s side, shoved the key in the ignition, and rolled down the window an inch in order to listen for the police.

  Sharon had gone no more than a few feet when a shot sounded. Ellie ducked. Holy shit. Her heart pounded so fast she thought it would jump out of her chest. A few seconds later, Sharon tapped on the passenger side window and Ellie unlocked the door. Sharon slid in.

  “Was he shooting at us?” Ellie asked.

  “Don’t think so. Door didn’t move and unless he was watching us drive in, he wouldn’t know we’re here. My engine’s quiet.”

  Her stomach heaved up bile. “Do you think he shot Vic?”

  “I’m about to find out. Wish me luck.”

  She was going out again? Was she insane? Before Ellie could come up with a good reason why Sharon should stay put, her friend pushed open the car door and zigzagged her way to the old house. For a larger woman, Sharon sure could move. When her friend was halfway between the house and the barn, Ellie called Trent Lawson. She wanted nothing to do with a possible murder.

  * * *

  “No need to get excited, Darryl. I ain’t movin’,” Vic said, working to keep his voice calm. The shot had hit the dirt about three inches from his foot. Vic held up his hands and widened his stance, ready to charge. It was hard not to wince given his ribs and head ached. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You know what I want. To see you suffer. Sit down.”

  “Sure thing. Give me a sec. Ribs might be busted.” Vic huffed out some long breaths to make it look as if any movement hurt. He was only half acting. Holding his side, he eased down to one knee. Darryl’s rage seemed to have been festering for a long time, and Vic wanted to give him time to calm down. Vic looked up at him. “I’m suffering a lot right now.”

  “You’re about to suffer more.”

  Just as Darryl leveled the gun at Vic’s chest, the barn door burst open, and Darryl pivoted toward the sound.

  Go. Now!

  Vic leapt up to his feet, using the last of his energy. When Darryl returned his focus to Vic, Vic dove to the ground, and three shots sounded in rapid succession. The order was a bit blurred, but he sure as hell felt the pain in his calf as Darryl’s shot found its mark. Fuck, that stung.

  Vic landed with a thud as Darryl screamed in pain, grabbed his gut, and dropped to his knees. Just as he let go of the weapon, Vic’s vision blurred from the jarring aches stabbing his body from every direction.

  Gotta get the gun. Gotta get the gun. Nothing else mattered.

  He crawled three feet, each inch wreaking havoc with his ability to function. Finally, his fingertips touched the handle. Just a little farther. The pain was excruciating, but he stretched a bit more and nabbed the weapon. Yes!

  Vic tried to secure the gun, but a wave of nausea assaulted him, forcing him to stop.

  “You asshole.” Sharon loomed over Darryl with her gun aimed at his crotch.

  “I can explain,” the whimpering fool said, blood pooling over the man’s fingers.

  Not only was Vic shocked that his secretary was here, she’d taken down the man who tried to kill him. Vic was having a difficult time putting those two thoughts together. Using his left hand, he placed his palm over the bleeding hole, forcing himself to remain conscious.

  “You used me.” Venom dripped from her voice. “And you shot at me.”

  “You didn’t have to shoot me in the gut.” Darryl’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out.

  Sharon’s demeanor instantly changed from hatred to concern just as sirens sounded in the background. Vic wanted to smile and thank her, but his lips wouldn’t lose their grimace.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as she rushed toward him.

  “Is that anyway to say hello?”

  She was right. “I promise to give you a raise.�
� She’d like that better than a thank you.

  “Now you’re talking.” She slipped off her jacket. “Move your hand.”

  It took him a moment to realize what she planned to do. “Don’t ruin your good jacket. Help is on the way.”

  “Nonsense. Can’t have you dying on me; I need the job.” She smiled.

  He wouldn’t die from a shot to the lower leg. He almost laughed, but then nodded toward the nearly closed barn door. “How about waving in the cavalry first?”

  Her mouth slackened for a second before firming. She held up a finger. “Right. Move your hand.” Sharon balled up her jacket and pressed in on his wound. “Keep pressure on this.”

  She then jumped up and dashed to the exit. Easing the door open a bit, she stuck her hand out and waved, possibly fearing they’d open fire. Smart thinking.

  Darryl groaned, but he still appeared to be passed out. Good.

  The next thing Vic knew, El was by his side, and the pain seemed to disappear until the worry descended. “Hey. You shouldn’t be here,” he grunted.

  “I know, but I am, so lay back and rest.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed. Once his head hit the straw, she removed her jacket and placed it under his head.

  He wanted to wave her off, but it took too much energy. “How did you find me?”

  “Your GPS.”

  “I mean, how did you know something was wrong?”

  Two paramedics, Stone Benson and Drake Longworth, tapped El on the shoulder. “Ma’am,” Stone said. “We need to look at Vic.”

  Her brows pinched. Vic hoped someday she’d learn that Rock Hard was a small town, and that people looked out for each other. El stood and moved back. “We’ll talk later.”

  Trent and Dan Hartwick were with Sharon. From the way Dan was scowling, Sharon was in for a tongue-lashing. Vic wasn’t worried. If anyone could handle the head of the RHPD’s detective unit, she could.

  “Ouch.” Vic looked down at the IV in his arm.

  Stone shook his head. “Don’t be a baby.”

  “Baby? I was hit over the head with a metal object, kicked in the ribs, and shot.”

  When he’d mentioned the head smashing, Stone’s demeanor hardened. “You black out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not good, buddy.” Together, he and Drake slid him onto a backboard, and then lifted him onto the gurney.

  As they wheeled him out, El ran up to them. “Where are you taking him?”

  “To LACE hospital.”

  She looked confused at the acronym, so Vic helped her out. “It’s where I was taken after the hit and run.”

  “Oh.” Lips twisting, El glanced over at Sharon. “I wonder when they’ll be finished with her.”

  “Not for a while, I suspect.” He handed her Sharon’s jacket. “Tell her I’ll buy her a new one. You stay with her. You know where I’ll be.”

  The paramedics wheeled him out. He was shaking, probably from the loss of blood. When they left the barn, the cold air didn’t help his chills or his mood.

  The saddest part of this whole event was that after this attack, Vic would never be able to convince El that he led a fairly safe life. It didn’t matter that Darryl was possibly the last of the vengeance seekers from his past life. He couldn’t be sure it was completely safe for El to be with him, which meant he had to let her go—again.

  The only good news about Darryl’s capture was that Charlotte could now get on with her life.

  * * *

  When the paramedics rolled Vic outside on that stretcher, Ellie’s heart broke. She wouldn’t wish what he had been through on her worst enemy, yet her ex-husband only seemed concerned with her welfare. Vic Hart was a one-of-a-kind good man.

  A second stretcher left the barn, this time carrying Darryl Grainger. Adios, asshole. To think she sat at the bar sharing drinks with him, not having a clue he wanted to harm her family. Sheesh. If that didn’t make her stop drinking, nothing would.

  After she picked up her jacket, Ellie edged over to where two police officers were questioning Sharon, but remained quiet, not wanting to disturb them. She couldn’t wait to hear what had actually happened. Sharon had accomplished what she meant to do and hadn’t been injured, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t land in jail.

  Trent came up to her. “Are you glad it’s over?”

  She jerked out of her reverie. “I haven’t had time to think about myself. All I can think of is Vic. The blows to his head alone worry me.”

  Trent rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”

  What else could he say? “What happens to Charlotte?”

  “I’ll call Annetta and have her drive Charlotte down here. I’d go myself, but I’ve got a ton of paperwork to fill out.”

  Ellie couldn’t wait to see her daughter. “I understand. Thank you.”

  Sharon held up a hand and motioned for Ellie to come over. “What’s up?”

  “Can you drive my car back to Vic’s?” Sharon asked.

  “Sure, but I’m not sure how to get back.” Ellie had been too scared to pay attention to the street names.

  “Use the GPS on your phone.”

  Christ. “Of course. Why don’t I drive it back to the office? My car’s there.”

  “Given the blood next to your vehicle, I’m afraid it might be where the abduction took place. They’ll want to process the scene.”

  She’d forgotten about the blood—Vic’s blood. Yikes. “Okay, but what about you?”

  “They need to question me at the station.”

  Worry raced through her. “Are they going to arrest you?” She’d come to care for this woman.

  “No. Darryl shot first, but he missed.” She smiled. “I didn’t.”

  Good old Sharon. “Would you have shot him if he hadn’t fired at you?”

  “We’ll never know, will we? Go home and for God’s sake put on your jacket. It’s freezing in here.”

  Ellie had been so upset about Vic’s injuries that the cold hadn’t even registered. Sharon, too, was probably cold, but her jacket had blood over it. She handed it to her. “Vic said he’d buy you a new one.”

  “He’d better.” She grinned.

  “Call if you need me to pick you up.”

  “I will.” Sharon leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks for figuring it out.”

  “Vic was the one who gave me the four suspects, and you showed me Darryl’s picture.” Ellie didn’t think she’d helped much at all.

  “But you put the pieces together.”

  True. Trent came over. “Everything okay? Want me to drive you home?”

  “I have Sharon’s car. I’ll be fine. I want to head to the hospital to see Vic.”

  “Keep that man of yours from tearing up the hospital. He’s going to be a bear for a few days.”

  Trent had Vic pegged. “Will do.”

  Ellie bundled up, and as soon as she rushed out the barn door, the cold air slapped her in the face. Brr. Winter was coming. To her, it signaled Christmas, which meant the rush at the gallery would be intense. People loved buying paintings and artwork for their big parties. The question was whether she’d get back in time to help.

  Or if she really wanted to.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Vic wanted to go home. The surgery to remove the bullet went well and the pain was now minimal—at least in his leg. His head still ached and a few of his ribs were sore, but there was no reason for him to stay in the hospital. Sure, the physical therapists wanted him to work out the leg, but he assured them he was capable of walking around on his own.

  He glanced over at El, slumped in the chair with her eyes closed. She’d been by his bedside since the shooting. While his love for her grew with each passing minute, he knew he had to let her go. She was born to work in the gallery, and the big city life fit her. Besides, he couldn’t guarantee that someone else might not want revenge and harm her.

  He shifted in the bed, and the rustling of sheets must have roused her. She looked over and s
miled. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Do you think you can find the doctor and ask him when I can get out of here?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I asked him last night. He’ll tell you when he thinks you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready, now.”

  She laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me you want to go back to work.”

  He smiled. “You know me too well. I wish it was business as usual, but I actually need help at home. For starters, I don’t have a car.”

  Why am I asking her to stay? Because I want her here, even though she’ll need to leave soon.

  As soon as he bought a car, he’d put her on the next plane to Virginia and cut the cord. If Charlotte didn’t have to be back at work, he might have asked her for help.

  Yesterday, Trent had brought his daughter to the hospital, and the reunion was quite tearful, especially on El’s part. Vic really hadn’t wanted Charlotte to see him lying in bed, but as Trent explained, Hart’s were stubborn creatures. Charlotte had insisted.

  “I’ll be happy to stay for as long as you need me,” El said.

  While her smile was warm, she looked tired. “I appreciate it. Have you been in contact with Hilton to see how things are going at the gallery?” It would show her level of concern and interest in her work.

  “I called him last night. His sister had a stroke and he’d flown up to see her, but he’s back now. That’s why he’s been out of town. He said Ronnie Maloney did a great job tending to the gallery.” She sighed.

  That was an interesting reaction. “Why the long face? Afraid Hilton will want to buy you out and ask this Ronnie fellow to take over?”

  She laughed. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  Guess that settled it. El’s comment implied she was eager to return, but at least she’d stay a bit longer. While he recuperated, he planned to enjoy her all that he could. Christ. Just the thought of making love with her again had his cock twitching.

  El stood. “Since you seem so determined to leave, I’ll see what the doctor has to say about your release.”