Sailing into Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 2)

by James Paddock

  "Hard to cuddle when we're drowning, too."

  "I don't know. I could drag you ashore and give you mouth-to-mouth."

  "Not if you don't know how to swim. How about you try practicing a little mouth-to-mouth now?"

  CJ grinned and did.

  Chapter 30

  Incessant ringing started to pull CJ from a place where giant trees kept falling across the road in front of him. He'd turn the wheel and the road would change, creating a detour around one tree only to be blocked by another.

  "Clint!"

  Stella's voice blew away the visions, replacing them with darkness and the continued ringing.

  "Hey!" she said.

  CJ felt her hand on his shoulder.

  "Clint!" She was yelling at him now.

  "Yeah." He tried to force his voice to sound like he was fully awake, knowing that with his face in the pillow it probably came out as anything but.

  "Hey!" she said, pushing at him harder. "Wake up! Phone's ringing. It's on your side."

  "I'm awake." He didn't move.

  "Sure you are." She pushed at him again.

  "Okay!" he said a little too harshly and fumbled for the phone, banging the receiver across the table before he finally got control of it.

  "Yeah," he said into it.

  "Clinton Washburn?" a male voice said.

  "Yeah. Who's calling?"

  He raised his head, blinked at the filtered lights of the night peeking through the drapes and attempted to find his limbs so he could roll onto his back without igniting the pain in his ribs and shoulder.

  "Hello?"

  He looked over at Stella, sitting on the edge of the bed, beautiful in the dim light.

  "Hello?" he said a second time, louder, irritated. After a few seconds he returned the handset to the phone cradle. "He hung up."

  CJ looked at the 3:23 displayed on the clock next to the phone.

  "Who was it?" Stella asked.

  "Don't know. Asked for Clinton Washburn. Sounded FBIish, or at least very official."

  "Police maybe?"

  "Maybe."

  She settled back down next to him.

  "If the FBI wanted to talk to me, they'd have Josh call, and he'd call the cell phone," CJ said. "Police would use my full name, but why call and then hang up?" He raised his head and looked over at the desk where he thought he had left his phone. He couldn't see it. He started to get up only to excite a groan.

  "What do you need?" Stella said. "I'll get it."

  "Cell phone. I'm calling Josh."

  She turned on a light and fetched the phone. After punching the appropriate buttons CJ held it to his ear and waited.

  "Yeah, Dad," Josh said after only one ring, wide awake, no irritation that CJ could tell.

  "You awake?"

  "I come alert very fast. It's three-thirty in the morning. What's up, Dad?"

  "We just got a strange call on the hotel phone. Asked for Clinton Washburn, and then hung up after my acknowledgement. I'm checking with you to see if anything is happening on the FBI side."

  "No idea who it was?"

  "No."

  "I'll be right there. Don't open for anyone else but me."

  Stella stared at CJ as he punched the end call button and put the phone down. When he didn't say anything, she said, "Well? What did he say?"

  "Get dressed. He's on his way."

  Stella went into the bathroom during which time CJ just sat on the edge of the bed in his boxers, waiting for various pains to settle. When she came out he rose to his feet, gave her a hug and then shuffled into the bathroom, conscious that she was way ahead of him in the getting-dressed department. After doing his business with the toilet he carefully leaned over the sink and flooded his face and head with cold water.

  Is this what it feels like to be old?

  Just as he reached for a towel there came a knock at the hotel room door. Josh, he thought, and then remembered Josh's warning not to open the door for anyone except for him. Now that his head was awake and clear, he understood why and expected that Stella would look through the peephole first in any case. He waited what he would later regret was a heartbeat too long before calling out, "Look before you open..."

  Stella screamed and then came a crash. CJ reached for the bathroom door just as it burst open and he found himself looking at a gun, on the end of which was a silencer sporting a hole the size of a canon. This time CJ didn't wait for another heartbeat. He dodged left while whipping the towel up and into the gun, pushing it right. The gun went off and CJ charged into the man, pushing him across the small entryway into the refrigerator, slamming his head against the microwave. The man's momentary stun allowed CJ time to grab the gun.

  "Eeee!" CJ screamed, the silencer burning his hand. The gun went off again just as CJ jerked it away, the report much louder. He tossed it across the room as he stumbled back, getting a momentary vision of Stella on her knees, bending over something, blood running down her side, dripping onto the floor. Fear and a sudden rage burst inside of him. He turned to rush at the man only to receive a kick to the gut. CJ slammed against the wall and dropped to the floor, red-hot blinding pain slicing through his ribcage. He tried to shake it off, tried to cut through it, knowing that he was dead if he didn't react quickly, but he could barely move. He got one foot underneath him, formulated a plan that involved charging and head bashing, fists driven into the solar-plexus, and raised his eyes. The guy was standing, staring at something behind CJ, not seeming to be preparing to strike out again. CJ took the opportunity to get another couple of breaths, as shallow and painful as they where, and took the few seconds to reconsider his plan.

  Ignore the pain and hit him low and hard, CJ thought.

  Just as he took one last breath and tensed for the charge, the man turned and ran out.

  What the hell? CJ looked over his shoulder to find Stella, in a shooter's stance, SIG Sauer in her hand, pointing at the closing door. And blood. A lot more blood.

  Stella let her arms fall and then tried to sit back, only to wind up flopping onto the floor, back against the bed. Unable to do anything but get to his hands and knees, CJ crawled over to her. The blood was coming from somewhere around her left breast.

  "Stella!"

  "I'm okay."

  "No you're not. You're bleeding. He shot you?"

  "A little bit, yeah. Just a scratch."

  He tore open her blouse to find a hole or tear or bullet crease in the area of her armpit. It was hard to tell with all the blood, but what he could see was that the injury was not life threatening as long as he could get her to the hospital. He saw his phone where he'd dropped it. He picked it up and hit redial, pushed the hair back on Stella's face while he waited.

  When he heard Josh's voice, he broke in. "Where the hell are you? We were attacked. One gunman. Gone. Stella's shot. Call 911. Get your ass up here." Without waiting for a response, he dropped the phone, pushed to his feet and went to the door to prop it open then grabbed a towel and returned to Stella. He was applying pressure to her wound when Josh rushed in.

  "They made an attempt on my dad and Stella's life," Josh was saying into his phone. "Stella was shot. EMS is on the way." He dropped to one knee in front of Stella. "How're you doing?"

  She smiled at him. "Not as bad as it looks... really. Hurts like hell, though."

  "It appears that it was a graze," CJ said. "More blood than anything."

  Into the phone, Josh said, "Looks like she'll be okay. Not a vital hit." To CJ he said, "Did you get a look at the gunman, recognize him?"

  "Got a good look, but no, didn't recognize him."

  "Could it be the guy who was driving the truck or the one who threw the device?"

  "Could have been either or someone else altogether."

  "No sir," Josh said into the phone. "We don't have an ID."

  CJ closed his eyes and thought about the bomb being thrown, the hand pushing out through the open truck window. There was a ring, a gold ring with a dark-colored stone. The
hand that held the weapon with the silencer also had a ring.

  "Yes," CJ said and Josh turned from his phone. "It could have been the man who threw the bomb; could have been the same ring."

  Chapter 31

  Stella sat on the same emergency room table as had CJ three days before, analyzing the buttons, or lack thereof, on her blouse. By the time EMS had arrived in the hotel room, CJ had managed to recover himself enough that he was able to easily refuse their help. He wanted all their attention on Stella. Besides, he didn't really think any more damage was done to his ribs even though it might have felt like it at the time.

  "The buttons are all gone, Clint," she said. "What the hell did you do?"

  "I thought you were bleeding to death, that you'd been shot in the chest."

  "Yeah, well, they cut my bra off of me, too... didn't have to do that. Now all I've got to cover myself with is a bloody blouse with no buttons."

  CJ stood and started to pull off his shirt.

  "No," Stella said. "I can live with this."

  "Nonsense. You need to be covered. I've got this stylish body wrap. No one will even pay attention, and if they do, it's their problem."

  Stella gave him an eye-roll and then accepted the shirt. He helped her with the left sleeve and then buttoned it for her.

  "This is a nice look," he said when he was done, giving her a feel through the thin fabric.

  She snorted. "Don't get used to it. And I'm in no mood for any hanky-panky."

  He kissed her on the forehead. "Actually, neither am I. I was just checking to see if we were both really alive."

  She snorted again.

  He sat back down just as the doctor returned.

  "Here's a prescription. Take as needed for pain, but no more than four times a day." He looked at his watch. "It'll be a few hours before you can fill it so until then here are some samples." He handed her two small pill bottles. "Take with eight ounces of water. Change the dressing a couple of times a day."

  The doctor looked at CJ with his bandaged ribs. "Aren't you the guy who was in here a few days back?"

  "Afraid so."

  "Did I read that you were also involved in that explosion?"

  CJ grinned and shrugged. "Not been a good visit to Florida."

  "I guess not." He put his hand on Stella's shoulder. "Take care of that wound and it should heal up well. The nurse will be right in."

  When he departed, leaving the door open, Josh stepped in. "Is he about done?"

  "Believe so," CJ said. "Waiting on the nurse to escort us out, I guess. Have you found out anything about the perp?"

  "Three-thirty in the morning, nobody sees anything."

  "How about the summit?"

  "What about it?"

  "What do you mean, what about it? Didn't you bring it up to Taffer?"

  "Yes."

  CJ waited a few seconds and then said, "Well? What did you find out?"

  "I told him and that's it. Sometimes information flows in one direction."

  CJ started to say something about that and then changed his mind. It was probably nothing anyway. "You got the guy's gun; find anything on that?"

  "Still too early for a report on the fingerprints. Don't expect to get any hits if he's a foreign national, but you never know."

  "What about bullets? The gun was discharged at least three times," CJ said, "and I'm sure those hotel walls aren't that thick."

  "Yes, it was fired three time, but, as I'm sure you know, Dad, ballistics when we actually have the gun, is a non-event. As for where the bullets went, fortunately, the room next to yours was unoccupied. One bullet was lodged in that room's shower wall, another in the television. The one that caught you, Stella, was found in your mattress. He must have been shooting down, otherwise it would have gone through the window."

  Stella nodded. "When he broke past the door, he shoved me back. I stumbled and fell. I didn't even know I'd been shot, didn't hear it. When he went for Clint in the bathroom I knew I had to get to my gun. I had a hard time getting it out of my purse and then getting my shooter's stance, couldn't make my left arm cooperate, thought I'd injured it in my fall, though I didn't feel any pain."

  "The pain was probably masked by the adrenaline rush," Josh said.

  CJ bobbed his head up and down. "When he ran out I looked behind me and there she was, mad woman with a pink SIG Sauer; enough to send any man running for the hills, even if she was only holding it with one shaky hand."

  "You making fun of my pink gun again, Clint?"

  "No. Not at all. I'm very respectful of your pink gun. It saved our lives. I kind of wish you'd shot the guy, though. A nice punch to the shoulder would have put him down enough that we could've beat a confession out him, maybe found out about the reason for all of this."

  "I'll keep that in mind next time. To be truthful with you, I couldn't even see the guy. Yes, he was standing right there, not ten feet from me, but all I could see was a big blur. My eyes were watering and I had all I could do to point the gun in the right direction."

  "You were crying."

  "No! I wasn't crying. My eyes were watering, maybe from being shot. I don't know. But I didn't cry, Clint."

  "Sure. You can just drop us at the hotel, Josh," CJ said, "so you can get back to your duties of sorting out the puzzle."

  "First of all, Dad, it's six o'clock in the morning. Second of all, I'm not leaving your sides."

  "Orders from Taffer?" CJ said.

  "Orders from me," Josh said. "They're after you for some reason."

  "I don't need a bodyguard, Josh."

  "Bullshit, Dad. There've been three attempts on your life and now Stella is getting a share. You're burning through your nine lives awfully fast. The two of you are stuck with me until I get your butts on a flight back to Arizona."

  CJ opened his mouth to argue and then looked at Stella. He'd almost lost her. The gunman was obviously intent on a chest shot and it was only by the grace of Stella's stumble that he'd missed. And then CJ remembered how she and his daughter were at death's door in the hands of Tommy Clark, just before CJ killed Clark, and how Clark's brother almost killed Josh hours before that. All of it was because of CJ. He came so close to losing everyone he loved because of his profession.

  He dropped his eyes to the floor.

  "You're right, Josh," was all he could say.

  "What's that, Dad? Did I hear you correctly? Did you say that I'm right?"

  "Don't push it, Josh. Just get us back to the hotel. Stella will make the arrangements and we'll get out of here."

  "Tomorrow," Stella said.

  Both of the men looked at her.

  "I'd like to get some rest and then do a little sightseeing this afternoon, maybe go to a beach somewhere." She looked at CJ. "No sailing."

  "As much as I hate to admit it," CJ said, "Josh is right. Three attempts on my life and now you're included. It's not worth it, sticking around just for the sightseeing."

  "It's not up for discussion."

  CJ smiled and looked up at Josh. "You bring any beach clothes?"

  Chapter 32

  Hotel management seemed to be tossed between providing a new room and telling CJ and Stella to take their business elsewhere. Seeing as there didn't seem to be any media attention concerning the early morning shooting, they opted to provide the room next to Josh since it had a connecting door, which only moderately satisfied Josh. What both he and CJ really wanted was a suite with two bedrooms, but there wasn't one available.

  CJ stood at the window watching the sunrise–the 5th floor view was not quite as good as on the 9th floor–while Stella focused on rearranging her suitcase and personal items. Since the old room was still a crime scene, Josh had taken care of getting them moved, dumping everything into bags, not taking the time to determine what belonged to who.

  "Why don't we call Gracie and Parker?" Stella said. "See if they'd like to join us on the beach. Kids are in school and Gracie said she'd taken a few days off from her work because of Parker's inj
uries. They also probably know a good place to go."

  "Thought you wanted to get some rest. We've been up since 3:30."

  "Logically, yes. Realistically, I'm too keyed up. I'd just stare at the ceiling. If I'm going to lie on my back staring at something, I'd rather it be a blue sky on the beach."

  "How about lying on your back staring at my face?" CJ said.

  "Men really do have a one-track mind," Stella said. "Maybe tonight. Let's see how we are both feeling."

  "Okay. It's the beach, then. Can't get your dressing wet, though."

  "Don't want to swim, just wade a bit. It'll be fun."

  "I don't have sandals with me."

  "You did bring something other than long pants, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Wear that and then take off your shoes when we get there. You'll be just fine."

  They met-up at Parker's house where he and Gracie were loading stuff into their van.

  "When you called about going to the beach," Gracie said, "my first thought, with a frown on my face, was how could I go to the beach without the kids? And then as I processed the meaning of that, the corners of my mouth turned up and I called out to Parker, 'Let's go to the beach without the kids!' Do you have any idea how long it has been since we've done that?"

  "Forever," Parker said.

  "Sometime last century, if I'm not mistaken," Gracie said, "before we had kids."

  Parker stepped up next to CJ and nodded his head toward Josh who was down at the curb at the end of the circular driveway, looking up and down the street. "What's up with your son?"

  "He's playing bodyguard and taking it rather seriously."

  "Did something else happen?"

  CJ and Stella hadn't told the DuPonts about the attempt on their lives just five hours before. He looked over at Stella who was carrying a beach chair from the garage with her good arm. He started to jump to her assistance and then didn't, knowing she'd fuss at him about being too protective. "I'm your partner and I can pull my own weight," she'd said many times.

  "We got a call middle of the night, a hang-up. Five minutes later Stella opened the door to a knock and a gunman pushed his way in."