Katie grabbed his hand. “To heck with your night vision,” she said and flipped the switch. Light flooded the entryway.
He stared at her red-stained hand and realized the wetness he felt wasn’t mud.
It was his own blood.
Chapter 25
Gavin tried not to wince as the EMT wrapped the bandage around his shoulder tighter. Cutter, who had thankfully come trotting back from his pursuit looking none the worse for wear yet mightily displeased, gave a slight whine. The EMT repeated her recommendation that he get himself to the emergency room for a couple of stitches; he’d already declined their transport. Gavin nodded again, although he had no intention of doing so. He’d have Quinn do it before he’d subject himself to what an ER visit would bring down on him.
He would have avoided the medical response, too, if it had been up to him, but Katie had called them before he realized what she was doing, once they’d discovered it hadn’t been a branch or thorn but the assailant’s blade that had gotten his shoulder. When he had protested, she’d given him a look befitting the ice queen of her costume.
And that had, unexpectedly, warmed him rather than irritated or amused him. As did the way she was hovering now, watching. If the sight of his wound disturbed her, it didn’t show.
Or she’s more worried about you than disturbed by all the blood.
Again red flags snapped in his mind as if ripped by a gusty wind. Do not go there. Don’t even visit that territory.
He was surprised, but almost grateful for the distraction when a man in a dark suit and white shirt, sans tie, arrived in a unmarked vehicle that still screamed cop. A uniformed deputy had taken the basics, what little Gavin could provide, and he hadn’t expected any more than that.
“Heard it was you,” the tall, lean man said as Cutter greeted him effusively.
“Brett,” Gavin said as he shook hands with the detective he had come to like and admire in the days after he practically single-handedly toppled a sitting governor. “Didn’t expect you.”
“I was out and about anyway,” Brett Dunbar said. “Busy night for us, Halloween and all.”
“How’s Sloan?”
“Still the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You’re a lucky man.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he was remembering what Katie’s coworker had said that day. And his own agreement. I’d be a lucky man.
“Who’s the princess?” Dunbar asked, glancing over to where Katie was talking to the EMT. No doubt she was asking if there was a way to force him to go to the ER.
“Queen,” he corrected. “That, my friend, is the librarian.”
Dunbar blinked. Gavin thought of all the stereotypical jokes, but if the detective thought of any of them he had the grace not to voice them.
“Suits her” was all he said.
Indeed it does. “She had a party here tonight for kids, scary stories and a movie. It was a big hit, once she separated Spider-Man and Iron Man.”
Dunbar chuckled. “Impressive, given what she’s going through personally.”
She’s impressive, period. But he only nodded.
Dunbar turned back to face him. “Want to run through it again for me?”
In truth, he didn’t, but the detective had come all the way out here, and Gavin knew it was only because of him. An unsuccessful mugging was hardly worth his attention.
“I don’t have much,” he admitted ruefully. “Guy came out of the dark, wearing a full ski mask and waving that damned knife. Cutter went for one side, I went for the other. He nicked me as we went down.”
“Then he took off?”
Gavin nodded. “With Cutter after him. I would have followed, but...” He glanced over toward Katie. The thought that this had happened so close to her made him a bit queasy.
“Of course,” Dunbar agreed. “You couldn’t leave her alone out here. Too tempting a target.”
Tempting. Oh, yeah... Especially in that outfit that seems to highlight every luscious curve.
“—description?”
Belatedly he tuned in to Dunbar’s question. “Not much,” he admitted. “Just under six foot, I think. Medium build, jeans, light-color shoes, and a dark hoodie with a logo on it. The ski mask was black, with red trim. Fairly strong, but he didn’t handle the knife like a pro. More the slasher type. Sorry, but that’s about it.”
“That’s more than a lot of people get,” Dunbar said. “Any idea on the logo?”
“Long, horizontal, looked like the head of...something. With a point.”
“Seahawks logo, I’d guess,” Katie said as she came up to them. “They’re practically ubiquitous around here these days. I think half the population has one. Dad and I bought them for each other last Christmas.”
“Win a Super Bowl and people who never used to care start caring,” Dunbar said, smiling at her.
“Katie Moore, Brett Dunbar,” Gavin said by way of introduction.
“Really?” Katie sounded as surprised as he had been at the man’s presence. “Thank you for your help, Detective Dunbar. With this, and my father’s case.”
“Haven’t done much, but you’re welcome.”
“Do you think you could talk him—” she nodded at Gavin “—into being sensible and going to get stitches?”
Dunbar grinned. “I could try, but given that he knows my aversion to hospitals, he might doubt my sincerity.”
Katie threw up her hands. “Okay, I give up. But I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ if it gets infected or doesn’t heal right.”
“Duly noted,” Gavin said.
Cutter nudged her hand, and she stroked his head. “You’ve got more sense than the both of them, don’t you?” she asked the dog.
“He came back on his own?” Dunbar asked.
Gavin nodded. “Maybe the guy had a car down the hill.”
Dunbar looked thoughtful. “If he took off on the highway, cameras might have picked him up. Might not get much in the dark, but it’s worth a look.”
“I can put Ty on it and save your guys the time.”
“And get it faster,” Dunbar said, his mouth quirking. Then, seriously, he asked, “Connected?”
Gavin had been pondering that since it had happened. “Maybe.”
“Wait,” Katie said suddenly, obviously following their cryptic conversation. “I thought the guy just waited for somebody alone. Are you saying this attack wasn’t random? That he was after Gavin because of the case?”
Gavin shrugged. “At the risk of committing a logical fallacy, it has a tendency to be true.”
She stared at him. “Never mind the ‘post hoc, ergo’ stuff. This has happened to you before?”
“My presence does have a tendency to provoke things,” he said carefully.
“I’d guess,” Dunbar said, “it’s that annoying other tendency, that around you the truth seems to come out. I’m also guessing you don’t threaten easily.”
“I’m stubborn that way,” Gavin said with a grin.
“That way?” Katie said rather sourly. “I’m going to go lock up. Again.”
“All right,” Gavin said as she turned to go, not reacting to her tone. “Cutter?”
The dog instantly understood and was on his feet. He stuck close to Katie’s side as she walked back toward the library doors.
Dunbar looked at Gavin’s arm, his blood-soaked sleeve. Then he glanced at Katie, then back to Gavin.
“I assume you didn’t miss that bit of information she dropped,” Dunbar said.
“You mean that her father has a hoodie like that? No, I didn’t. And from what I’ve seen of him, he’s pretty fit and could still move that fast.”
Dunbar nodded slowly. “I’d hate for it to be true. She seems ni
ce.”
“She is.”
“And smart.”
“She is.”
“And worried about you.”
That one stopped him for a moment before he said, “That goes back to her being nice.”
“Hmm.”
Gavin had noticed before that Brett Dunbar could say a great deal without speaking a word. He saw the man’s eyes flick toward the building, toward Katie and Cutter. Then back to him. And he didn’t like the speculation he saw in his expression. Not from a man who had experienced Cutter’s machinations firsthand.
And who had ended up with the woman who was indeed the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Don’t go there. Don’t even think about going there.
As he watched Katie secure her domain and turn with Cutter to come back, he had the crazy thought he should be saying that to the dog instead of constantly repeating it to himself.
Chapter 26
Katie was beyond frustrated. By the time all the details had been handled it had been a very long day. She was tired, yet she couldn’t fall asleep. Even the sound of the rain, which had begun again just as she arrived home, didn’t help lull her.
She finally gave up for now, pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and shoved her feet into her favorite shearling winter slippers. After what had happened at the library following the party she should be nothing but glad it was over, and that no one had been seriously hurt. That is, if you didn’t count a wicked gash and copious bleeding as seriously hurt, as Gavin obviously didn’t.
She kept replaying the moment when she’d realized the wetness she’d felt when he’d touched her hand was blood. Remembering the bright, unmistakable redness of it when she’d flipped on the light. Reliving her horror as it dripped from his hand to splat on the floor.
That moment should have warned her, but she’d been too swamped by the images in her head to think clearly. But now she had to admit the truth. No matter how ridiculous it was, no matter how foolish, she was getting herself in a tangle over this man.
She supposed it was only natural. How did someone who’d lived, for the most part, such a quiet, unobtrusive life, come in contact with someone like him and not get sucked into the vortex? Gavin de Marco was a force of nature, one to be reckoned with, and she obviously wasn’t immune.
On the thought, her cell phone signaled an incoming text. She’d forgotten to even get it out of her purse, and if she hadn’t already been awake and pacing, she probably wouldn’t have heard it. She frowned, wondering who’d be texting her after midnight. As she walked to the dresser, where she’d left the purse, she tried to rein in her thoughts that it had to be more bad news.
She pulled the phone out and read the text.
From Gavin.
Hope you don’t get this because you’re asleep.
She let out a sigh, then tapped the screen to bring up the keyboard. I wish.
Are you all right?
She blinked. Read it again. He was asking her? I’m not the one who got carved up with a hunting knife.
It was barely a slice.
That should have had stitches right away.
Not enough to put up with what a trip to the ER would have caused.
She stared at that one for a moment. It had not occurred to her what kind of commotion Gavin de Marco showing up in an emergency room after a knife attack would create.
Never thought of that.
No reason you should. Quinn came by. He stitched it up.
She blinked. Then she remembered Quinn Foxworth’s military background and realized he was probably quite capable. His work might lack a bit of finesse, though.
Ouch.
She got back a smile. A bit. Sorry it was messy. Try not to let it remind you.
She stared at the screen. It was true, she hadn’t seen dripping blood even on a small scale since that awful night, so she couldn’t say the memories hadn’t slammed into her mind. But practical concerns, especially in those moments before she knew he wasn’t horribly injured, had pushed them out again.
She tapped at the keyboard again.
Too late.
The moment she hit Send she wished she hadn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was whine to him, of all people. He was the one physically hurting. She was just dealing with memories. She—
Answer the door.
What? She stared at the phone. A split second later a quiet knock came on her front door.
For an instant she thought of not answering. But she could hardly pretend she wasn’t here or hadn’t heard it when she’d just been texting him.
She sucked in a deep breath and walked to the door. She spared a brief thought for her no doubt tousled appearance, then decided after tonight she didn’t care.
He, on the other hand, looked none the worse for wear. He’d changed, thankfully discarding the blood-soaked shirt. He wore a heavy, cable-knit sweater that looked too damned sexy on him. He certainly didn’t look like he’d nearly had his throat slashed mere hours ago.
Life was damned unfair sometimes.
“You’re not all right,” he said without preamble.
“I’ll be fine.” Cutter was with him, she noticed. The dog stepped forward and automatically she patted his head.
“You should be sleeping,” Gavin said.
She couldn’t hold back her wry laugh. “Not likely.”
“That’s why I’m here. To go over what happened tonight. Get you past it.”
“Again? To get past it, you want me to hash it out all over again?”
“Yes. Ignoring it doesn’t work.”
She couldn’t deny the truth of that. She’d tried too often to ignore the emotions that those memories, those awful images, brought on. She’d only succeeded in delaying them, which in turn only seemed to intensify them when they finally broke loose.
Cutter gave a soft woof. She realized belatedly she was still standing holding her front door, and they were still out on the porch. They were under cover from the rain, but it still seemed beyond rude to keep them standing out there. Especially since Gavin clearly wasn’t going to be easily persuaded that he was the one who should be resting.
With an inward sigh she stepped back and gestured them inside. If Gavin had noticed her reluctance it didn’t show, but she imagined his poker face was pretty good. It had to have been, given his reputation for startling juries with unexpected turns in cases.
“Ty’s pulling the video from the traffic cam near the library,” he said as he stepped inside, bringing with him the scent of rain and the outdoors.
“You really think it’s connected?”
“Doesn’t matter. When somebody comes after me like that, I like to know why.”
“You say that like it happens a lot.”
“Not so much anymore,” he said.
She saw him look around the living room. It wasn’t perfectly tidy. The latest Library Journal was on the coffee table next to her tablet, and the heated throw she used when curled up in her favorite chair to read was sliding onto the floor, but she didn’t care. It had taken her time to get this room just how she wanted it, and she’d been grateful for the distraction of doing so when she’d first moved in. She’d relocated to get away from the scene of tragedy, but at first the new surroundings only reminded her of why she was no longer where she’d been.
But now it was her own place, her own quiet refuge in the woods, and she loved it. She loved the blue and green tones of the outdoors brought inside, loved the textures of the furniture and the patterned rug, and the way the bright, vivid colors of the painting she’d bought at the local arts fair and hung over the couch contrasted with the cool colors of the rest.
Cutter, tail wagging gently, began to inspect the room less surreptit
iously than Gavin had. She didn’t think there was anything he could get into that would hurt him, so she let him go and turned back to her human guest.
“This is nice,” he said. “Comfortable.”
“If that’s your way of saying it’s not fancy, agreed.”
His gaze shifted to her face. “Something wrong with that?”
“Not for me. I would have figured you for more of a chrome-and-glass kind of guy.” In fact, she knew it, having seen in her research photographs of the office he’d had at the peak of his renown.
“I had it, once,” he admitted. “Doesn’t mean I liked it. It was part of the image. This, I genuinely like.”
She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live like he had. But the tone of his compliment had seemed sincere, so she decided to take it at face value.
“Thank you. I’m afraid there’s no coffee,” she said, “but I have cocoa.”
He shook his head as he sat down at one end of her small couch. “I didn’t come here to make you work. At least, not at that. Besides, the last thing you need is caffeine keeping you awake.”
“No caffeine seems to be required,” she said wryly, walking toward her chair. At least sitting there, safely apart, had been her intention, but somehow Cutter got in the way. And he kept getting in the way, until she had little choice but to sit down on the couch, as well. Strangely, the thing had never seemed so small as when Gavin was barely two feet away.
She looked at him and noticed him glaring at the dog rather balefully. As if the animal had done this intentionally.
Or as if her sitting so close was annoying.
Tough, Mr. Famous Lawyer. It’s my house, I’ll sit where I want.
Of course, she hadn’t intended to sit there. The dog made her. Still...
She shifted in her seat till she faced him. Mr. Famous Lawyer.
“If I asked you something,” she said slowly, “would you give me the truth?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t lie.”
Operation Notorious Page 16