by Lori Ryan
As he looked back to Mia, ready to check her vitals, her eyes opened. She looked stunned, but zeroed in on him right away.
“Stay still,” he said as he brushed the hair from her face. “There’s an ambulance coming. You’re safe.” He pulled off his shirt and pressed it to her arm where blood flowed from a rough gash. He saw pain grip her as he pressed and tears fell from her eyes.
“I’d like it better if you’d just hold me.” She whispered hoarsely, and he smiled at her sass in the face of all she must be feeling.
“I’ll hold you plenty as soon as we get you checked out.” He realized he was running his hands down her arms, her legs, over and over. He was checking. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. He needed to see for himself that she was okay. Needed it on a primal caveman level that shocked him.
“Promise?” She said and there was fear and uncertainty in her question that made his heart ache.
“Promise. You’ll be sick of me in no time,” he said as the EMTs moved in, pushing him to the side. He didn’t go far, moving to be by her head as they worked. “I’m right here, Mia,” he told her again and again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And he wasn’t. Not for a good long while. Not forever, if she’d have him.
Chapter 32
Jax helped Mia through the front door of her house. “Do you need something to drink? Maybe something to eat?”
“Let the girl take a breath, Jax,” said her mom, coming in behind them. There was an indulgent smile to her face that said she was enjoying chastising him.
“Sorry.” Jax didn’t let go of Mia’s arm as he lowered her to the couch. Her ankle was wrapped and her throat was marred with the evidence of the gunman’s hand around it.
He’d been identified as Trace Jones or Triple K, as he was apparently called on the streets. He had a criminal record a mile long, had been arrested for assault and the police suspected he’d been involved in at least one murder. He’d only had two assault convictions stick, but from what Jarrod had told them, that was only because he seemed to be good at wriggling off the hook.
He’d do anything that was asked of him for the right amount of money. They didn’t know what his connection was to the clinic or Dr. Coleman yet. Both men had been rushed to the hospital in critical condition.
“You’re just as hurt as I am.” Mia pulled Jax’s thoughts back to the present. “Sit.”
He sat next to her as her mom went to the kitchen to get them both food and something to drink.
“You still need to tell me what you were thinking following that man there,” Jax said, lowering his voice so her mom wouldn’t hear.
It didn’t work. Her mom must have had crazy-good ears. “Yes, she does!” She called out from the other room. “There’s no excuse for that, Mia!”
Mia looked at him but shook her head. “If I hadn’t gone, Darla would have died.”
She wasn’t taking any crap about her decision, and Jax didn’t know if he should be proud or furious. He blew out a breath. He couldn’t argue with the fact, but his gut still clenched at the thought of Mia in the hands of that man.
They were still waiting to hear if Dr. Coleman was going to make it through surgery.
Jax had seen the shock and confusion on the face of the doctor’s wife when she and his daughter came into the waiting room. He had a feeling that whatever the doctor was involved in was going to come as a complete surprise to his wife.
“I don’t know what I would have done …” He stopped talking, mostly because he couldn’t go on. He rested his forehead on Mia’s and just focused on breathing without losing his shit.
He raised his head when he was sure he could speak. “I need you to know what you mean to me. What you make me feel. You’re amazing, Mia. You’re funny and kind. You risked your life to save Darla when no one would have blamed you for turning and running instead of getting her out of there. If that weren’t enough, you manage to make me feel like a superhero with just a smile. If I’d lost you …”
She placed a hand over his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. “Right back atchya.”
He laughed and pulled her closer, if that was possible.
“Enough with the superhero crap. You two need to tell me why my daughter was almost killed,” said Lynn coming in from the kitchen. Jax had forgotten they weren’t alone and he cleared his throat and shifted so he wasn’t quite so wrapped around Mia in front of her mom.
Before they could fill Lynn in, Jax’s phone rang. Seeing it was Jarrod, he put it on speaker and set it on the table in front of him.
“Hey Jarrod. Mia and her mom are here, too.”
“Hi guys. I’m afraid I don’t have good news. Dr. Coleman just died on the operating table.”
“And Jones still claims he doesn’t know anything?” Jax asked.
“No. I’m afraid I’m beginning to believe him. His story is backed up by emails and he was paid in cash dropped at a bus station locker. We’re working on tracing the emails he was sent, but the IP address comes back to a public computer at the library downtown.”
“You can’t track it?” Jax asked.
“We cross-checked library usage. You have to have a library card to use the computers. There’s one card that was used during the time when each of the four emails he received were sent, but it comes back to a middle school kid who says he lost his library card a month ago and hasn’t replaced it.”
“Video?” Jax asked.
“No. The library doesn’t have security footage. We found footage of the cash drop at the bus station. All we’ve got is a tall thin man in a baseball cap and hoodie. Can’t make anything out. Prints are useless in a place like a bus station, but we’ll have crime scene check the locker and the bag the money was in just in case. Don’t hold your breath on that one.”
“So all there is to go on is tall and thin?” Lynn said, echoing the thought they were likely all having. “That could be anyone.”
“We’ve interviewed the staff and nurses at the clinic. There are two doctors at the clinic who fit that description but both of them have alibies for that time frame. I did get permission from two of the other decedent’s next-of-kin to test the tissue and blood samples, so the ME is running that now, but that’s going to take some time. With Dr. Coleman’s death, Darla’s kidnapping, and the assault on Mia, we now have an official investigation open so we were able to get warrants to run tests on the samples from the unclaimed victims. I’m afraid that’s the best lead we’ve got for now.
The clinic is cooperating as far as they’re able. They’re opening up all their records, except for the ones that involve drug trials run there, but they are legally obligated to wait for a warrant on that. We should have one by the end of the day.”
Jax cursed under his breath. “Let us know what you find out?”
“As much as I can.” Jarrod and Jax said the line together, a wry smile on Jax’s face. He knew the detective couldn’t share everything with them. They were lucky to be getting the information they were.
“Listen, I need to tell you both,” Jarrod said, “it looks like Trace Jones isn’t going to make it.”
Jax froze. “What do you mean?” His mind ran back to the scene at the factory. He’d swung the bar hard at the gunman’s head, but was it really that hard?
Jax met Mia’s gaze as Jarrod spoke. “Sometimes it only takes one hit to the head. They’re hoping to reduce the swelling and operate, but …”
“What does that mean for Jax and Mia?” Lynn asked.
“It means we need you to come in sooner rather than later to give your statements. The district attorney wants to see the interview. He needs to make some decisions.”
“Are you serious?” Mia stood and, even through her hoarseness, her tone was indignant, but there was a protectiveness there as well. Jax took hold of her hand and tugged her back down on the couch.
“I think it’s just going to be a matter of procedure, guys,” Jarrod said. “Just an issue of getting both of
your statements on the record.”
“These guys are exhausted,” Lynn said.
“It’ll hold until tomorrow. Come into the station in the morning and I’ll get everything on the record.”
“Thank you, Jarrod.”
“You bet. Get some rest you guys.”
Lynn looked from Jax to Mia and back again. “All right, never mind the district attorney. It’s time for me to get the whole story. Spill it.”
Mia sighed and Jax launched into the story, beginning with the break in at Leo’s and skimming over the part where Mia was attacked and almost killed.
Lynn’s facial expression stayed stock still while she listened to the story, but when it was over she came over and hugged Jax.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling back and looking him in the eye. She paused a minute before looking at Mia and raising a finger to point at her daughter. “And you! You’re grounded.”
Chapter 33
Jax woke before Mia. The morning was quiet and still, but his body stirred as he looked at her sleeping next to him. She lay naked, hair mussed. Her face was peaceful, save for the bruising on her chin and neck.
Jax had to tamp down the anger that rose when he thought of that man’s hands around her neck. He was still struggling with the idea that he might have taken another man’s life. He’d served in the military in conflict, so he’d seen his fair share of death. And, yes, he’d taken lives. Somehow, though, he’d separated himself from that and he never thought he’d be in that position again.
He had to remind himself that he’d had no choice. Trace Jones hadn’t given him any. It had been a matter of Mia’s life or Trace’s.
Jarrod took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he focused on Mia, blocking out all other thought. He focused on the smoothness of Mia’s skin as he ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. She was like a balm to him, calming him instantly.
He kissed the soft curve of her shoulder and she stirred, pressing into him as his body raged to life for her. Her eyes found his and he pulled her toward him, their legs entangling.
“I love waking up to you,” he said and buried his head in the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck, making her moan in response. Those moans were something he would never get tired of hearing.
“The feeling is mutual,” she whispered, her hand covering his cock as she squeezed, tormenting him. She rolled him over and slid on top of him as he cupped her breasts and tried to take in every last gorgeous bit of her. He’d never get tired of the sight of her above him like this.
He reached beside him in the bed stand for a condom and rolled it on before lifting her up.
As she took him in, he had to clench his teeth to keep from coming. He watched as her eyes heated and his breath caught at the way she made him feel.
She was his and he didn’t plan on giving her up anytime soon.
When they lay wrapped together after their love making, he whispered to her again.
“I want to keep waking up with you.”
“We live in two different cities.”
“We do,” he agreed. “For now, we can take turns on weekends. We don’t need to rush to change that, but I want you to know that I want to build a life with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She traced a path on his chest with her fingers as he spoke, but her eyes met his when she answered. “I’m not going anywhere either.” She’d been running away from people all her life. Not physically. But emotionally, and the result had been the same. She’d made sure she never opened herself to love.
She smiled and kissed him. “I love you. I don’t know how that happened. Lord knows I tried not to,” she said.
He responded with a laugh, but told her what he’d known for some time now.
“I love you, Mia Kent. Lord knows I didn’t try very hard not to,” he said with a grin as she shoved at him playfully.
Epilogue
Jarrod stared at the photos he’d lined up on his desk. There was one of Warrick Staunton, head of Simm’s Pharmaceutical, and his Uncle Jonathan Simms. The family resemblance was clear in the color of the eyes and shape of the face, even though Simms’s hair showed some whitening with age.
Meredith Ball, head of Branson Medical, and Edward Ball, her husband and the researcher who’d invented a large number of the medical devices that had put the company on the map, were the next two photos. He had to be at least twenty-five years her senior, if not more, and Jarrod made a mental note to check on their relationship and see if she’d married him for money or her position in the company or what.
He slid William Tyvek’s photo into position on the end of the row. Jarrod had looked him up. Tyvek’s company was the largest, and Tyvek was known for his ruthless tactics in getting the company where it was today.
He shook his head as he looked at the photos. The truth was, they had nothing but speculation about illegal drug trials. Not a whole lot of anything to go on. Right now, he still had no test results back from the medical examiner and nothing to tie them to the deaths of the homeless people, other than their connection to the shelter.
They’d gotten news this morning that Trace Jones was in a coma and likely wouldn’t come out of it anytime soon, but the doctors also stressed they couldn’t be sure with head injuries.
Mia and Jax had come in for their interviews this morning, and the district attorney had been satisfied. Their stories matched. They were waiting to see if the crime scene techs came up with anything on the scene that poked any holes in those stories, but if they didn’t, the district attorney would officially close the inquiry without filing charges.
Coleman’s office had held some pretty damning evidence. Files with the records of the trials he’d been performing and his notes on the different results from each patient involved.
They were working on tracking down the other patients involved to be sure they were all safe and hadn’t been affected by the medication, but it would take time to figure out exactly what had happened and find all of the patients involved.
“Jarrod.” Cal walked in and looked down at the photos, frustration lining his features, as well. He’d been following up with Dr. Coleman’s wife, although Jarrod knew his interview would be preliminary at best. The woman’s husband had just been murdered. They wouldn’t get much out of her right now.
“Did he wake up at all?”
Cal shook his head. “No. His wife claims to have no idea what he was involved in or why he would have gone to the factory. I’m pulling financials and phone records, but that’ll take a few days. But I just got a call from the uniforms looking through Trace Jones’s place. They found an envelope full of cash. It’s got the clinic’s logo on it. I sent it to the lab to see if we can get any prints off it. I’m hoping to tie it back to Dr. Coleman.”
“So it could be Coleman that hired Jones? They fought and Jones killed Coleman? It’s definitely possible.”
Cal grinned and Jarrad wondered what Cal knew that he didn’t. “They found a burner phone at Jones’s. It’s number matches the number we found on the burner phone in Coleman’s office. The two men had talked. A lot.”
Jarrod nodded. “Good.” It felt damned good to have some of the questions answered. Some of the loose ends tied up. He looked over at his partner. “So, what, we think Coleman was doing this alone with only hired help?”
Cal didn’t answer.
“I don’t buy it,” Jarrod said, even though his partner hadn’t argued the point. “I don’t believe the doctor was acting on his own.”
Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell, neither do I.” He still sounded like he wanted it to be that way, like he was hoping for the nice clean outcome.
Jarrod continued. “He’s not a scientist, for one thing. And even if he did come up with the drug by himself, where would he be manufacturing it? It doesn’t add up.”
Cal nodded. “I have a feeling whoever is behind this will go into hiding. Lay low for the time being. They’ve taken out a big loose end with Co
leman.”
Jarrod crossed his arms. “Man I wish we’d been able to talk to him before he died. I gotta think he would have given everyone involved up before he went.”
“Yeah. What now?”
The two men looked at the photo lineup.
“Now we analyze every freaking fact we can dig up on these companies. I have a feeling our answer is in here somewhere,” Jarrod said. It had to be.
* * *
Allan Sykes was getting tired of waiting. He’d been told to come to the cabin days ago, then nothing. Radio silence.
He walked up the wooden steps, arms laden with groceries. The cabin was nothing like what he remembered from his family’s trips when he was young. They’d rented small, bare bones places with nothing more than a main room, kitchenette and bathroom.
This place was nothing like that. It was a full blown house. The only thing that made it qualify as a “cabin” was the fact that it was made of logs and located out in the woods.
He’d waited to go into town to the convenience store, living on the canned soup and stews in the walk-in pantry, but he gave up today. He wanted milk and eggs, toast. He wanted a beer to drink in the evening. If he was going to be stuck twiddling his damned thumbs waiting for his boss, he was damned sure going to put that back porch to good use.
They didn’t have steaks at the convenience store. That would have to wait until he made it to the next town over. For now, the hot dogs, chips, and beer would have to do.
He hardly had time to process the sight of the man sitting in the chair when he walked into the kitchen. No words were exchanged before the black hole of a hand gun’s barrel was staring at him.
Confusion struck him as he fell to the floor and watched as blood pooled beneath him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t stop the man when he stepped over him, carefully avoiding the spilled blood, and walked out.
* * *
The End