Jonas pulled open Stefan's bloody shirt and whistled. "Good thing you were wearing this. That bullet would have killed you. We'll have the EMTs take a look at you."
"Just hurts like a son of a bitch. Man, I'm sorry you had to shoot him, but if you hadn't, I don't know how much longer I could keep him from turning that gun on me. I could see it inching around and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."
"Can you get to your feet?"
"Yeah. I'm just a little shaken." Stefan stood up. He managed a wan grin, flicking a quick look toward Judith on the enclosed porch of the gallery. She had her tote bag next to her. "I haven't done this sort of thing since I left the service and that was far longer ago than I want to admit to."
"I've got to pat you down for weapons. You have any on you?"
Stefan made a quick assessment, but he was certain he'd gotten all them transferred to Judith's tote bag. He submitted to Jonas's quick, but thorough weapons' sweep. In the distance, sirens could be heard.
Stepping back away from Jonas he shook his head, looking down at the dead body. "Thanks again, man, you definitely saved my life. I only spoke to the old man a couple of times. Gave him coffee once and a few bills I had in my wallet. I don't know what any of us did to provoke this. Judith noticed he was acting sick and talked to him about going to a doctor. Maybe that's what set him off." He let the words tumble out fast, as if he couldn't stop talking.
Jonas crouched beside Ivanov. "This isn't Old Bill. Have you ever seen him before?"
Stefan took a good look at Ivanov's face. He frowned and shook his head, shrugging. "If I have, I don't remember. I travel a lot and I make a lot of enemies."
"You thought he was trying to kill you?"
Stefan shook his head again. "I just saw the gun and don't remember too much after that." He touched his chest. "He got off the one shot. I remember feeling like I got hit by a truck. To be honest, I don't even remember hearing it. I just felt something slam into my chest very hard."
"We'll need your clothes and the vest." Jonas waited a moment, his eyes never leaving Stefan's face. "The knife is yours?"
Stefan frowned and looked closer at Ivanov, as if for the first time noticing that a knife had gone deep into the chest of the deceased. He shook his head. "No. When I grabbed his gun hand, the knife came at me fast from the other side. I never touched it. Just his wrist. All I did was hang on. All I really remember was hanging on and thinking he was damn strong for such an old man. He must have fallen on it when you shot him. I can't even tell you where that hand was, I was more worried about his gun."
Officers showed up, taking over, removing Jonas immediately, taking his gun, and separating him from Stefan. Stefan had to repeat his story to another officer, reiterating that the sheriff had saved his life. Someone taped off the area while another led him into the gallery to change from his clothes to a paper zip-up jumpsuit. His clothes and vest disappeared into evidence bags. He could see officers talking to Judith and others to Frank and Inez, all separately.
Where is the bag?
Judith's head went up and she looked at him across the crowd of officers. In the gallery. I put it behind the counter. I can just see the corner of it sticking out a little. She was still inside the large enclosed porch and looking through the windows inside the art gallery. I put it inside when I saw Jonas searching you.
Keep looking at it.
Like the lock, he just needed the picture in his mind, but still, utilizing his greatest gift while police officers surrounded him required tremendous focus. Stefan took a breath and "pushed" the large tote back far back behind the counter out of sight.
Judith's eyes widened. When you stopped the kaleidoscope in midair when I threw it at you I knew you were capable of telekinesis. I have to say, that's a rather sexy talent.
He flashed her a wan smile. Keep that in mind when you try to run out the door on me.
I don't plan on doing that any time soon, she assured.
Stefan wasn't so certain of that. He was going to have to talk to her about Jean-Claude La Roux. She'd thought he'd made a full disclosure to her admitting he was Lev's brother. She'd agreed to keep his real identity a secret and live with him as Thomas Vincent, but he couldn't imagine she would be so accepting of his part in her past.
He shook his head when an EMT insisted on examining him, but allowed an officer to photograph the huge purple bruise blossoming across his chest over his heart. The man raised an eyebrow at the myriad of scars, but nodded his head when Stefan murmured something about serving in the military.
The body of Ivanov was put in a special body bag and tagged with a blue coroner's seal before it was taken away. All the while, he kept his eye on everyone inside the art gallery. Even with the bag safe behind the counter, he still felt vulnerable. So far no one had gone near it, no one really paying attention to the gallery with the dead body outside.
A crowd had gathered around outside the gallery, walking around the crime tape and talking all at once. He was grateful for the heavy fog that seemed to have worsened instead of lifted. Inez waved Blythe through the crowd and indicated to the guard at the door that she could come in now that the police were finished questioning the witnesses.
Stefan could see that Inez and Frank looked exhausted. He motioned to Judith and indicated the couple as Blythe hugged them both.
Judith responded immediately. "We've all given are statements. Can you clear out the gallery and let us recoup a little?" she asked the officer at the door.
He nodded and waved everyone else out, stepped out onto the enclosed porch and closed the door, effectively sealing out the chaos and noise in the street.
"Mr. Vincent," Inez said, turning to him. "Thank you. If it wasn't for you, we'd probably all be dead. I still can't believe you reacted so quickly."
He shrugged it off and caught her arm gently. "You're hurt, Inez. You should have the EMTs look at this."
"I'm old," she said, with a wan smile. "I don't bounce so good. It's a bruise, nothing more."
Blythe handed Stefan a package. "Hannah, Jonas's wife called me and told me what happened. She suggested I bring you clothes. They took Jonas's uniform and everything else from him and he's at the hospital. They always take blood in an officer involved homicide . . ."
"Homicide?" Inez protested. "Jonas had no choice. That man was trying to kill Mr. Vincent. He would have killed all of us. Jonas wasn't given a choice."
Blythe hugged her. "Jonas will be fine. Any time someone is killed like that, whether by an officer or someone else, it's considered a homicide. They'll investigate, they have your statements and Jonas will be fine. Don't worry about him, Inez. Hannah's worried enough for all of us. You might want to drop by and see her later, just to check on her."
"Yes. Yes, that's a good idea," Inez agreed. Her shoulders sagged and she sank into a chair. "This has been such a terrible day. First someone vandalized the gallery and then that horrible man tried to kill us." She looked around the room, a look of worry on her face. "If he had Bill's sleeping place and his things, where's Bill?"
There was a small silence. Blythe sighed. "I'm so sorry, Inez. I know you went to high school with Bill."
"He really was a good man. He lost his way in the war, that's all," Inez said. "He belonged to the village. We all took care of him. I don't understand any of them. Why would that man want to hurt Bill and then take his place?"
"We may never know the answer," Blythe said.
Stefan took the clothes Blythe brought him into the back and changed. He would never consider himself modest, but a paper jumpsuit didn't give him a lot of confidence in its ability to stay together. His only consolation was the thought that Jonas Harrington had to suffer the indignity of wearing one as well.
Judith had stayed across the room from him most of the time, but he could see her need to be held and comforted even if she didn't know it. He couldn't go to her with another man's blood all over him and he was very grateful for the small shower stall some
one had installed some years earlier. It didn't work the best, with low water pressure and the water scalding hot one moment and then icy cold the next, but with a little time he learned the trick of it.
He looked in the mirror. Damn. He was tired and it showed in his face. For the first time he allowed elation to sweep through him. Petr Ivanov was dead. He could never be a threat to Lev again. Or to Stefan and his relationship with Judith. He only had one more complication to get rid of and his life was his own. He had to find the microchip and get it home to Russia where it belonged.
But first, before anything else, he had to hold his woman close and see for himself that she was all right. Barefoot, he walked out of the back room and right up to her, uncaring what any of them thought. He pulled her close to him, fitting her snugly against his body, his fingers gripping her hips to guide her into him. His arms slid around her back, his body protective, hard and very much in control.
Judith melted into him, sagging against him as if in relief. She turned her face up to his, dark gaze moving over him. He bent his head and took her mouth, his lips moving over hers, shaping hers, teeth tugging at her lower lip. His tongue swept inside, and he kissed her as if his very survival depended on her--and for him, it did.
He pulled back enough to rest his forehead against hers, his hand bunched at the nape of her hair. "I might have to wrap you in cotton and put you in a safe," he whispered.
"I was thinking the same thing about you," she said, her hands sliding to the back of his neck while she lifted her face for another kiss.
Stefan took his time, before he turned to the others, sliding his arm around Judith to keep her close. "Frank, I'm definitely interested in purchasing the gallery. Give me a little time to look at the books to make you a decent offer."
Inez beamed at him. She shot a quick, pleased look at Frank. "Judith knows the inventory better than anyone else and what the real value is, but we're both happy to help you in any way possible."
"You're planning on settling here permanently then," Blythe said.
Stefan couldn't tell whether she was pleased or not. Blythe was very reserved around him. "Very permanently," he announced firmly. "I've asked Judith to marry me and she's said yes."
Judith's hand tried to slip from his, but he held it tight. "You didn't exactly ask me."
"Do you need me to go down on my knees? Because, for you, I could manage it."
Judith blushed. He'd been down on his knees in her kaleidoscope studio and there was no way to forget it. "No." Her eyes went wide. "Thomas, I have to get back to my painting studio immediately. Otherwise all this artwork will be ruined."
"The paintings are insured," Inez said soothingly. "It's such a terrible desecration of your work, Judith, but if you're worried about Frank and me, that's the one thing we made certain of--that we kept up the insurance."
"I don't understand," Blythe said. "What happened?"
"Someone broke in and vandalized the gallery," Frank explained. "They took all of Judith's artwork out of the frames and off the stretcher bars."
"I have to put them back on or the paint will be ruined," Judith said.
"Are you really going to marry Mr. Vincent? Because if you are, I'm calling him Thomas," Inez said.
"She's going to marry me," Stefan said. "She's just being difficult because I haven't found the perfect ring yet." He carried Judith's left hand to his mouth, his thumb pressing into the center over his mark on her.
"I don't care about the ring," Judith said. "It's just that you've swept me off my feet so fast I haven't had time to think."
"Always the best way with a woman, right Frank?" Stefan looked for help.
Frank reached over and took Inez's hand. "I'll have to agree with that. It took me quite a few years to reach the point where I realized if I was going to get my chance with this woman, I was going to have to just take it."
Inez blushed. "Silly man." But she sounded pleased.
"I'll get Judith home so she can work on these paintings," Stefan said. His hand slid down her spine to rest on the curve of her hip a bit possessively.
"I don't know how you're going to get to your car without everyone mobbing you," Blythe said. "Give me your car keys and I'll bring it around for you."
When he'd stripped off his clothes, he'd tossed his wallet and car keys on the desk. He kissed Judith's hand and moved around the counter to the other side of the desk. His wallet was in plain sight, but the keys had fallen between a stack of papers and a book. He reached for them, his gaze running a quick scan of the desk. It didn't seem right to him. He'd looked at the books with Judith a few nights earlier, but when they'd left, everything had been stacked neatly. None of the officers had come around behind the counter.
"Frank, did you or Inez touch anything on this desk today?"
Frank shook his head. "When we came in and saw the paintings, we checked all the inventory after we called Jonas, and the safe, but we didn't have money here and there isn't anything of value in the desk. I just glanced at it."
"Someone's gone through the papers since I was here the other night."
"Are you certain?" Judith asked, coming up behind him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and peered over his shoulder.
"Yes." He pushed her hand away when she reached for a paper. "Let me. After what happened earlier, I'm not taking any chances with you."
Using the end of a pencil, he pushed the papers around, separating each one. In the middle of the pile of invoices was a single photograph. Judith and Stefan were locking the door of the art gallery, Stefan's body only inches from Judith's, looking every inch possessive.
Across the picture was a single line written with a black fine-point marker. Who is he, Judith?
Stefan felt her shock. Her body stiffened, fingers curling hard into his shoulder, nails biting deep.
Oh God, Thomas, it's him. I know it's him.
Her voice trembled and stark images of her brother's death pushed into his mind. At once the room filled with overwhelming sadness and sheer terror. Judith had gone pale, but Frank and Inez actually staggered, reaching out for chairs.
Easy angel. Take a breath. Focusing and breathing through that sudden violent storm of emotion was difficult.
He palmed the photograph and casually turned, pulling her into his arms and sliding the picture into his pocket with practiced smoothness.
Jean-Claude's in France. In prison. Who could have done this? He can't be here--can he? Judith pressed her face tighter against his shoulder. It's him. I know it is. I can feel him.
"What is it?" Frank asked, pressing a trembling hand over his heart.
Angel, I'm here. This man is nothing. He can't hurt you or anyone else you love, not with me standing in his way. Stefan had to find a way to calm her down before the art gallery filled with such dark horror that the elderly couple had heart attacks.
"I don't think it's anything, Frank," he assured as he tightened his hold on Judith, his arms a steel cage, his body fiercely protective. "The vandal most likely leafed through things on the desk looking for something of value. He didn't know artwork or he would have taken your most valuable pieces."
He could feel Judith desperately trying to regain control. Jean-Claude was a monster from her past and he'd grown into such a demon over the last five years he wasn't certain Judith could get a realistic perspective on him.
"Judith." Blythe's voice was pitched very calm, cutting through the thick sorrow and horror. "There's nothing we can't face together. We're stronger than our pasts. All of us. Thomas is here with you and so is Levi. Whatever you're afraid of, you aren't alone this time."
Stefan felt his warning radar rise. Blythe. The mystery woman. She was far more than she appeared. It took control and power to push through the surge of emotional energy Judith was throwing off. Her emotion had amplified even more as Frank and Inez reacted. He felt power coming at him in waves, battering him, like the sea, continually and without mercy pounding away at his emotions. He managed to st
ay above it all and at the same time, work to shield the others in the room, but Blythe, although clearly feeling Judith's influence, remained unscathed by the surges of power.
"Maybe it was a kid," Inez ventured, her hands shaking, obviously trying to appease Judith. "I know most of them and I can't think of any who would want to hurt Frank or me, but maybe I've had to talk sternly to one or two when they've come into the grocery store during their lunch break. They don't try to steal, I've never had that problem, but they are smoking pot and they reek."
"Whoever it was," Stefan said firmly, "he or she didn't take anything of value and if I get Judith home, she can stretch these paintings before they're ruined." He held out the car keys to Blythe. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would bring Judith's car around and then reassure her sisters that she's fine, but needs to work."
Blythe's eyes met his over Judith's shoulder. She slowly reached for the keys, as if she hadn't quite made up her mind about him. "Thank you for saving Judith, Inez and Frank," she said quietly as she took the keys. "All of them said if it wasn't for you, that killer would have probably shot them all."
"I don't know about that, Blythe," Stefan replied in the same calming, quiet voice. Already Judith was managing to pull her emotions back from the others. "But I can tell you nothing will harm Judith while I'm around."
Blythe nodded. "That's good to know. She's very loved by all of us."
"I can see that." He wrapped his arms more firmly around Judith, the knots in his belly tightening.
There was no way he wanted to have a talk with her about Jean-Claude La Roux. It would be so difficult to explain that he'd not come to Sea Haven with the sole reason of warning his brother. The sin of omission was beginning to loom large and there was nothing left to him but the truth. He dropped his head over hers, his mind racing. He'd been cornered a million times in his career, life and death, kill or be killed. It was his way of life. But this . . . this was entirely different.
Losing Judith was unacceptable to him and he had a feeling this was one of those very important things about relationships he was only beginning to understand. She trusted him. She believed in him and she'd given him every chance for disclosure.
We'll be fine, moi padshii angel. I clipped your wings and put them in my kaleidoscope. I'm not going anywhere because you're mine. He knew his murmur of reassurance was more for himself than for her.
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