Men Made in America Mega-Bundle
Page 121
“Pull over. I’ll drive,” Veronica said, taking control. Her face looked white as milk.
“Is the car still behind us?”
“No, it went the other way,” Veronica said.
He stopped the car and crawled to the passenger side. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Veronica planting a heavenly kiss on his mouth.
SHE PEELED into the hospital parking lot and jumped out at the emergency room exit. “He’s been shot, someone help me!” Nurses and doctors rushed to her aid. They eased Nathan onto a stretcher and wheeled him into the examination room, firmly pushing Veronica aside.
Please let him live. Veronica prayed the same prayer over and over while she paced the faded floor of the waiting room. The odor of antiseptic and alcohol permeated her nostrils, and she willed herself not to be sick. At least until she found out if Nathan would be all right. And if he wasn’t…she closed her eyes, driving away the awful images of his blood-soaked clothes. He had to be okay…he had to.
“Excuse me, miss? Did you bring Detective Dawson in?”
Veronica swirled around to see a dark-haired young doctor who looked as if he’d just finished med school. She forced her voice to work. “Yes, how is he?”
“I’m Dr. Byrne. We’re taking the detective to surgery to remove the bullet.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Veronica asked. Her heart was pounding so hard the blood roared in her ears. She leaned against the dingy wall for support.
“He should be. The bullet missed his heart, but we need to remove it. I’ll let you know when the procedure’s over.”
A nurse approached her. “We’re required to report all gunshot wounds. Is there someone you want me to call?”
Veronica thought about the car that had been following them and wanted to kick herself for not getting the license plate number. She’d been too frightened to even think about it.
“Yes, Lieutenant Stevens.”
The nurse smiled sympathetically. “I’ll phone him right away.” She handed Veronica a foam cup. “Go in the lounge and pour yourself a cup of coffee. It’s not much better than the machine’s but it’ll take the edge off.”
Veronica tried to sip the dark, rich coffee, but it tasted bitter to her mouth. The cup warmed her hands, though, and gave her something to hold on to while she sat and stared at the lines on the floor. Lieutenant Stevens rushed in several long minutes later and went straight to the nurses’ station. “Where is Dawson? How bad is he hurt?”
The nurse explained his condition. Veronica glared at the man. When she’d first gone to him complaining of the threats to her life, he’d laughed her right out of his office. She’d wanted him to believe her, but not at Nathan’s expense.
Now she wanted him to find the person who had hurt Nathan. “Lieutenant Stevens, I can explain.” To her surprise, he listened patiently while she rambled through her story.
“And you weren’t hit?” he asked, glancing down at her blood-covered shirt and torn skirt.
“No. I think the bullet was meant for me, but it missed.” Veronica bit her lip to hold back the tears burning her eyes. The lieutenant shook his head. “Don’t do that to yourself, Ms. Miller,” he said. “Dawson’s a cop. A cop puts his life on the line every day. It’s his job.” Exactly what Nathan had told her before.
His words gave no comfort. Neither did they assuage her conscience. Nathan was more than a cop. He was the man she loved. Stevens ordered a team to check her car for the other bullet, then paced the waiting room. Two hours and three cups of cold stale coffee later, the young doctor finally returned. Veronica’s fingers felt raw from wringing them together.
“He’s lost some blood and he’s weak, but he’s going to make it,” the doctor said.
Veronica said a silent prayer of thanks, then begged the nurse to let her in the recovery room to see Nathan.
He was pale and so still that tears filled her eyes. Nathan had been hurt because of her—the very thing she’d wanted to avoid. She truly was a curse to the people she loved. Moving slowly, she tiptoed to his bedside and held his limp hand in hers, stroking the lines of his fingers. She pressed his hand to her cheek and kissed his palm, her heart breaking at the sight of the bandage across his bare chest and shoulder. The nurses had shaved off part of his sandy blond chest hair, and a dark bruise showed beneath the edges of the bandage.
She glanced down at her own blood-soaked clothes, then closed her eyes and whispered another prayer. But as she prayed, Nathan’s image became blurred, and instead of his handsome face, she saw her parents lying on the floor of her old house, their blood covering her as she prayed for them not to die. The image was so strong she gasped for air and clutched Nathan’s hand more tightly. The shadow hovered above her—Eli’s face. He was upset, calling her name, and her parents were yelling at him. They were all screaming and fighting. Then he was gone.
Pieces of the night jumbled in her mind. Her parents lay on the floor, covered in blood, the knife sticking out of her father’s chest. She heard her own scream, saw herself pull out the knife, saw another shadow hovering in the corner. Sirens wailed, and then she was crying and rocking herself back and forth over and over, begging her parents not to leave her.
“Ms. Miller?”
Veronica started when a hand touched her shoulder. She glanced up, breaking herself out of her memories. “I need to check his vitals now,” an elderly nurse said gently.
Veronica nodded and kissed Nathan’s hand, then slowly laid it down beside him. She’d remembered more of that night. She needed to remember the rest. Eli had been there, but was the other shadow Eli returning or someone else? She had to know.
“He’s going to be fine,” the nurse whispered, giving her a pat on the back.
“Thank you,” Veronica said. She leaned over and kissed Nathan on the cheek. “I love you.” Then she slipped out the door. He had almost died because of her. He’d jeopardized his career and his life for her. She’d blamed herself for her parents’ deaths all her life. Anger and rage stormed inside her. She wouldn’t let him take a bullet for her for nothing.
She was going back to her old house and see if she could remember the rest of the story. His love and support had gotten her this far. She could do the rest on her own. Then she could say goodbye to her past and Nathan. And he would be safe.
NATHAN STRUGGLED to open his eyes, but they felt as if they’d been pressed down by boulders. And the rest of his body felt worse. What the hell had happened?
Then he remembered. The fight at Eli’s. Veronica’s memory. The car following them. The bullet. He groaned and tried to raise his arm, but one side was taped with a bandage, the other secured with an IV. Damn. He couldn’t move. Then the white walls started closing in on him.
He couldn’t just lie here. Not when Veronica was in danger. Where was she, anyway?
He made a feeble attempt to call for help, but his words came out garbled, and his eyes were so heavy he couldn’t keep them open. Medication. He must still be on the anesthetic. God, he needed to wake up and find Veronica. He flailed his arms and legs, but nothing happened and he realized the drugs were so strong he couldn’t fight their effects. A heaviness weighted him down as his eyes drifted shut. His mind screamed for him to get help, to tell someone to watch out for Veronica, but the rest of his body wouldn’t cooperate. He fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed that she was running from someone and calling his name. But he couldn’t find her. And he knew if he didn’t hurry, it would be too late.
THE POLICE WERE FINISHED with her car, so Veronica slid inside, painfully aware of the bullet hole in the windshield. She drove slowly, checking behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed. So far, so good.
As she drove down the long country road, dread mushroomed inside her. She wanted this to be over, but she realized the answers she found would not be pleasant. Before she went into the house, she paused and grabbed a flashlight and Nathan’s gun from the glove compartment. She stashed them in he
r purse and walked up the steps. The minute she opened the door, she knew tonight was going to be different.
It was already after midnight, and darkness enveloped the house, so she switched on the flashlight. She almost stumbled over a loose board on the porch as she entered the den. She shone the light around the room and saw the same sparse, dusty furnishings, then proceeded to the bedroom, where it had all happened.
Snatches of memories flashed through her mind—the music, “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” a woman’s soft soprano singing a lullaby, her father’s deep rich voice calling her name. The floor creaked behind her and she turned to look out the window. An opossum skittered across the porch. She passed her room and stopped, appalled as she noticed the bedcovers and curtains had been demolished. Who hated her enough to do such a thing?
She forged ahead, intent on remembering the past no matter what the costs, and knelt beside the place on the floor where her parents had died. Then she heard the creaking of boards again and she smelled a strange smell, something like gardenias. She closed her eyes and remembered it was her mother’s favorite perfume. The curtains fluttered and a cool breeze filtered in through the broken window. The music in her mind suddenly stopped, and a chill swept through the air, the moonlight outside fading as a shadow formed behind Veronica in the doorway. Was it real or a shadow from her memory?
She slowly turned and squinted in the heavy darkness. An outline was framed in the doorway, silhouetted by faint ripples of moonlight so the features looked stark. An image of Eli came to her mind and the argument at his house, then another fight he’d had with her parents the night they’d died. Horrible angry voices, shouting, screaming, her mother crying. Her head pounded with the sounds. Then she saw Eli’s back as he ran out the door.
“It was you,” Veronica said as she looked into the doorway and recognized the shadow, the one from her nightmare. Except this time it was real.
NATHAN PUSHED the nurse away and bellowed for her to remove his IV. Eli rushed in. “Where’s Veronica? Was she hurt? I came as soon as I heard.”
Nathan saw the worry lines on Eli’s face. Veronica had suspected Eli, but he still couldn’t believe her godfather would hurt her. “I don’t know where Veronica is,” Nathan snapped. “But if these nurses would let me out of here, I’d find her.”
“You’ve just had surgery, young man. You’re not going anywhere.” A heavyset nurse folded her arms and glared at him.
Nathan snarled. “I’m a detective, and the woman I love is in danger.”
“You’re in love with Veronica?” Eli asked.
“Of course I am,” he yelled. “Now tell these people to let me out of here. I have to save Veronica.”
“What do you mean?” Eli asked, his eyebrows drawn upward.
“I mean someone tried to kill us after we left your house. And they’re after Veronica.”
Eli dropped his face in his hands. “Why?”
“I have an idea,” Nathan said, trying to control his impatience. “But I need to find her. And we need to do it fast.”
Eli motioned to the nurse. “Why don’t you have one of the doctors give his officer in command a call?”
The nurse nodded and left. “If you help me, I’ll fill you in on the way.” Nathan yanked out the IV, wincing in pain as Eli helped him up. “Get me some damn clothes.”
“This may be a mistake,” Eli said.
“No way,” Nathan said. “You don’t want Veronica to be hurt, do you?”
“No.” Eli’s voice broke. He hurried out and returned seconds later with a surgical scrub suit.
Nathan dressed, then Eli slid his arm under Nathan to give support and opened the door. When they were in the car, Eli paused. “Dawson, you said you love Veronica.”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Then that gives us something in common.”
“You really do care about her, don’t you?” Nathan asked, wincing again as he tried to buckle his seatbelt.
“Yes, I do,” Eli said quietly. “I love her very much. And I have to tell you the truth, Dawson. Veronica is my daughter.”
VERONICA CLENCHED the purse to her side as her memories crashed back in a torrent of scattered, painful moments.
“Tessa, it was you. You were here that night. But why?”
The woman Veronica had thought was her friend moved inside the room, her body as sleek and cunning as a bobcat in the woods, but her voice sounded wild and razor sharp. “You knew it all the time. You never lost your memory. You played this stupid game so you could come back and get Father’s money.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tessa waved a knife in front of her. Her eyes blazed with hatred, and she wore an all-black warm-up suit, a drastic change from the silk suit she’d worn at the dinner party.
Then a cold, eerie feeling crept over Veronica. Yes, she had seen it before. Those eyes. She’d seen that crazy look on Tessa’s face the night her parents had died.
“You wanted Daddy’s money,” Tessa ranted. “You came back to destroy our family. You wanted to take him away from me, just like you would have years ago.” She stalked around the room waving the knife in wide circles.
“That’s not true,” Veronica said, pressing her hand to her temple as a dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. Then she saw it—the horrible scene between her parents.
“But you’re not part of our family. And you never will be.” Tessa kicked the end table and sent the lamp crashing to the floor. It shattered into pieces at Veronica’s feet. “I was Daddy’s little girl. Then Mama died and he married Barbara. And he forgot all about Mama. Then Barbara gave him sons. Sons!
“It was bad enough I had to share Daddy with Gerald, then that snotty-nosed brat, Sonny, came along. He thought he was Daddy’s favorite. But he wasn’t.” Tessa was out of control. Veronica froze, afraid to say anything to add to her anger. “I was Daddy’s favorite. I should have all his money. Not Gerald or Sonny. And certainly not you—you’re his illegitimate baby.”
“I know I’m not part of your family,” Veronica said, fighting her own emotions. “I never—”
“Shut up!” Tessa screamed. “You were there. You heard what your mama said. You saw Daddy, too, and he would have taken you and then I would have had to share everything with you. And Daddy would have forgotten all about me like he did my mother.”
“Tessa, I don’t know what you mean.” But Veronica did know. It was all coming back to her. The fight between her parents had started when Eli burst in.
Eli was her father.
A shudder racked through her at the realization. That was the reason her parents had fought.
She could see her father crying. “What do you mean she’s not my baby?” he’d asked in disbelief.
Her mother had sobbed, “I was pregnant when we got married.”
“With my baby,” Eli had said. Then Eli had raged at her mother. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
Her mother had broken down again. “Because you were running for senator. Your mother threatened me. She didn’t want me to ruin your career.”
“I don’t believe that,” Eli had yelled.
The whole time her father had stood in disbelief. And she’d hidden in the corner and watched her family fall apart. Her father had accused her mother of lying to him. Her mother had cried and sobbed until she couldn’t talk. Eli had been furious. He had said he’d just found out the truth and wanted to claim Veronica as his own. Her mother had yelled that he would never get custody of her. Her father had threatened to leave her mother.
Then Eli had stormed out. But her parents had still been alive when Eli had left.
She glanced at Tessa, and the memory of her sneaking into the house came back vividly. Tessa had been young and beautiful, but the evil she’d possessed had caused her to attack Veronica’s mother. She’d run in, yelling that she wanted to see Veronica. But her mother had told Tessa to leave. In a wild rage, Tessa had somehow grabbed the kitchen knife and foug
ht with her mother. Her mother had been trying to protect Veronica, to keep Tessa from finding her. Then Tessa had stabbed her mother, and her mother had fallen to the floor with a scream. Her father had rushed in, and Tessa had spun around and lunged at him with the knife.
The blood had spouted out, and even as a child she’d been amazed at Tessa’s strength. Then Tessa, all wild-eyed, had come looking for her. Veronica had hidden under the bed and watched, holding her breath, knowing she was going to be next.
Just like now.
“Tessa, I didn’t remember,” Veronica said. “All this time, I didn’t know Eli was…was—”
“Was your father!” Tessa spat the words at her and brought the knife up over her head. “Well, you remember now. I can see it on your face. That night I heard Dad arguing with Barbara. He had just found out about you, and Barbara was upset he’d had a mistress. Daddy said he was going after you, that you should be a Jones, but Barbara said your mother was a cheap whore and you weren’t coming to our house!”
A shudder coursed through Veronica as Tessa moved toward her, her eyes crazed. “I’m going to get rid of you once and for all,” Tessa screamed.
She pounced and slashed the knife at Veronica.
Chapter Sixteen
Veronica quickly backed away. She had to stall. “Tessa, I don’t want your father’s money. I don’t want anything—”
“Be quiet!” Tessa barked wildly. “You think I’ve gone to all this trouble for nothing? When Daddy first learned he had cancer—”
“Eli has cancer?” Veronica felt the shock to her system as if she’d been physically punched.