Triple Dare

by Candace Irvin

  Not the way Stuart and his scheming mother had.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” She drew her breath in deep, her gratitude in deeper—and forced herself not to extend her hand, much less give in the sudden urge to outright hug the man. “Mr. Sabura, I can never repay you for what you did for me. You saved my life. More important, you saved my brother’s. I’ll never forget that, or you. Thank you.”

  She understood then that Dare thrived on the challenges and the adrenaline inherent in his intense recreational pursuits because he did not get off on adulation and glory. Even with the emergency lights still glancing off his cheeks, she could make out the deep flush on his cheeks. He seemed as much at a loss for words as she.

  But she had feeling he didn’t want to be. In fact, she could have sworn he had something he wanted to say. Desperately.

  In the end, he simply cleared his throat. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was near enough to help.”

  Abby blinked.

  Come to think of it, why was he here?

  She must have been in shock, because for the first time that night she took in the man’s dark tailored suit and really looked at it. At him. There was no way Dare had just happened by Lincoln Center, not tonight and not dressed like that. He was here because of her. The tickets she’d pushed on him. He must have decided to use them after all. But in the end, he hadn’t. He couldn’t have. Marlena would have noticed. The VIP seats she’d given Dare were on the opposite side of where Brian, Marlena and Nathaniel’s had been.

  So what had happened?

  Abby studied the tinge of gray left behind as the flush faded from his cheeks, the exhaustion lingering in his eyes. The terse set to his lips. Had he taken ill at the last moment? Decided to wait outside in the fresh air?

  For her?

  She was about to throw conceit to the wind and ask when the paramedic returned with a shorter, dark-haired man in tow. From the gold badge hooked over the pocket of his rumpled suit, she could see the guy was plainclothes cop. Early forties, she’d guess. From the lines carved about his pinched, reedy face, not to mention reddened eyes and scruffed jaw, the cop was either overworked or he was already burned out from years of dealing with crime and death. She decided on the latter when he didn’t bother shifting his foam cup of coffee from his right hand so he could extend it to her.

  He didn’t even glance at Dare. “I’m Detective Pike, Ms. Pembroke. Homicide. As soon as the paramedics have had a chance to look at you, I’ll need you to come down to the station, fill out an official statement, answer a few questions.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective. I’m afraid I can’t go anywhere with you. Not tonight. I need to get my brother home, into bed.”

  Pike shook his head. “I’m afraid I insist.” He glanced into the cruiser, his impatience barely concealed beneath a swift sip of steaming coffee. “From what the EMT tells me, your brother’s not going to be any help. Kid doesn’t remember a thing. Though I suppose we could always try hypnosis.”

  “No.”

  The man shrugged. “Well, in that case, can’t you call a friend? Or better yet, just drop him somewhere on the way?”

  That was it. She’d had more than enough.

  She might have misinterpreted Dare’s feelings toward her brother and missed Stuart’s altogether, but there was no mistaking this moron’s. She didn’t care if the man was overworked, she didn’t care if he was the next chief of police. Abby stepped forward, smack into the detective’s personal space. “Drop him? Just what do you think my brother is, a—”

  Dare’s fingers encircled her arm before she could finish, warm, calming. “Let it go, Abby. It’s not worth it. Not tonight. Besides, he can’t make you go anywhere.”

  Her anger ebbed. Dare was right.

  She allowed him to nudge her back to the side of the cruiser. Dare, however, had remained well inside the detective’s personal space. She had the distinct impression he and Pike knew each other. That they’d butted heads before. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? As a homicide detective, Pike dealt with the underbelly of the city, not its upper crust.

  She pushed the thought aside as that same homicide detective finally bowed beneath Dare’s molten glare. “I’m sorry, Ms. Pembroke.”

  Abby crossed her arms, holding fast to her determination to get her brother home as quickly as possible. Despite Dare and the paramedic’s assurances, she’d feel better after her brother’s doctor examined him. “I meant what I said, Detective. I need to leave now. However, I’m perfectly willing to stop by your station in the morning to sign a statement.” She gathered what little dignity she had left and waved off the paramedic as he stepped forward. “Thank you, but I’m fine. My head doesn’t even hurt anymore. If I could just have my brother’s glasses, we’ll be leaving.”

  Before either could argue, Ryder, the officer who’d helped her as she regained consciousness, approached the cruiser. Ryder leaned in swiftly to whisper something to the detective, then nodded behind him to where another cop and a pair of scrambling paramedics jerked an occupied gurney to a stop just shy of the back of an ambulance to labor over their patient again.

  The limo’s driver? Or the van’s?

  Whoever it was, the frantic pace of treatment didn’t bode well. Abby sent up a prayer for both men as Dare retrieved a slim cell phone from an inner coat pocket.

  He captured her stare. “I’ve already called a cab. It’ll be here any moment. I’ll see you and your brother home.” His tone left no room for argument.

  She didn’t mind. She was even grateful. Anything to get away from this place and that jerk of a detective.

  Unfortunately that same jerk of a detective stepped closer. “Afraid not, Sabura. You can’t talk yourself—or rather her—out of this one.”

  What was that about?

  She had no idea. But Dare did. She was sure of it. The odd glint in the stare he’d shot the detective moments earlier returned, and it wasn’t due to Pike’s sarcastic familiarity. The men did know each other. But from the way their stares had locked, their past hadn’t been forged through friendship.

  Dare frowned. “Give it up, Pike. You can’t hold her. She’s not even a witness. Other than the knife, she didn’t see a blessed thing.”

  True. But how did he know that?

  She snagged Dare’s arm. “What’s going on?”

  Pike shrugged. “That’s what we’d like to know.” He tipped his cup toward the gurney and the still laboring paramedics as the EMT answered a shouted summons to join the others. “According to that poor schmuck, you’re more than just an accidental bystander, Ms. Pembroke.”

  She dug her nails into Dare’s arm as she struggled to ward off the sudden dizziness that threatened.

  Was he implying she knew the guy on that gurney?

  That he knew her?

  “That’s impossible, Detective. I don’t know anyone who drives a limo or a van.”

  Pike shook his head. “The vic wasn’t driving when all hell broke loose. He was a passenger. In the limo.”

  She pulled her hand from Dare’s arm.

  It was a mistake. The fog swirled in faster.

  Dare’s arm returned immediately, encircling her. She sagged into his strength. “I—I don’t understand. W-who—” Even with Dare’s support, she still couldn’t get the rest out.

  Fortunately, Ryder read her mind and answered. “According to his ID, the man’s name is Van Heusen, ma’am. He managed to speak before he lost consciousness. Not much, but he did say he’d been waiting in that limo—for you.”

  Dare caught her as she swayed. She swallowed firmly. “S-Stuart Van Heusen?”

  “You do know him.” Unfortunately, this statement didn’t come from her enigmatic neighbor; it came from Pike.

  She pulled herself from Dare’s grasp and faced the detective reluctantly. “Yes. We…used to date. Before I left for Europe. But, uh, Stuart’s phoned a few times since I r
eturned—three or four calls over the past two weeks—but I never picked up.” Thank God for caller ID.

  “Why?”

  Suspicion had darkened Pike’s stare. She forced herself not to react to it. At least, not visibly. Given Stuart’s family name—not to mention that Stuart was an assistant district attorney with the city—Pike probably knew Stuart or at least knew of him. But there was no way the detective could know the rest. Specifically, why she’d really broken off her relationship with Stuart. Nor would Pike ever find out. She’d kept her side of the bargain. She hadn’t breathed a word to anyone. Not even Marlena. And she knew darn well Stuart’s mother would never talk.

  “Ms. Pembroke?”

  “Yes?”

  The last vestiges of his sorry excuse for politeness burned off. “I asked you a question. Why didn’t you pick up?”

  “Because I didn’t want to talk to him.”

  The man’s lips thinned. “All right. Let’s try this from the opposite angle. Why did he want to talk to you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  But she did. At the very least, she’d had her suspicions.

  Stuart must have had his, too. And given who Stuart was, he’d undoubtedly investigated them—her—and uncovered the rest.

  From the accusation now firing openly in Pike’s gaze, it was clear the detective had his suspicions, as well. But before Pike could express them verbally, one of the paramedics bellowed for him. Frustration racked the man’s entire stringy frame, but he spun around and followed Officer Ryder across the street. A terse conversation appeared to follow. It broke off as two of the paramedics heaved the gurney up into the rear of the ambulance. To her shock, Pike scrambled in alongside the EMTs, calling out, “All right, Ms. Pembroke. Take your brother home. But then you get to the station. Tonight!”

  The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Abby in shock. What was that argument about? Was Stuart okay?

  And if so…had he said anything?

  Her heart began pounding in her chest. Sweat drenched her tattered blouse. She jerked backward and slammed into something hard. Solid. Warm.

  Dare.

  She’d forgotten all about her enigmatic neighbor. But as she inched away from the man’s muscular chest before turning to face him, she had the distinct impression that Dare hadn’t forgotten about her. Not for a moment. “Ready?”

  She blinked.

  He tipped his head toward the end of the street as one of the cops waved a cab through. The taxi stopped just shy of the remaining ambulance. “Our ride’s here.”

  Our ride.

  For a guy who’d recoiled from her mere touch the night before, he seemed awfully okay with the implications of that double-edged statement. Abby pushed the thought aside and followed Dare to the rear of the cruiser, only to receive another jolt of surprise at the sincere concern on Dare’s face as he hefted her brother into his arms. Nothing left to do, she grabbed her violin and followed the men to the back of the cab. She had no idea where her purse was. At the moment she didn’t care. She just wanted to get out of there.

  She skirted her brother’s dangling shoes and opened the taxi’s rear door for Dare. But instead of depositing her brother on the seat as she’d expected, Dare eased into the back of the cab with Brian still cradled in his arms.

  He glanced up at her. “Shut the door?”

  She complied, hurrying around the rear of the cab to slide in on the opposite side. Before she could give the driver Marlena’s address, Dare rattled it off.

  “How did you—”

  He shook his head as the taxi pulled away from the staccato of flashing lights. A moment later they were turning the corner and merging into nonstop traffic. “Relax, Abby. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Until then, let’s not disturb him, okay?”

  She disturb Brian?

  The two of them—together—had just rocked her to her core. Not only had her brother curled into Dare, Dare had relaxed, as well. He’d even closed his eyes. As the seconds ticked out, growing into a minute, then two, Abby started to wonder if Dare had sunk into a trance of some sort, right there in the back of the cab. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear Dare and her brother were sharing some silent, otherworldly connection. The occasional glow of the passing neon lights added to the eerie effect, washing their features in a rainbow of reds, oranges, golds and greens. Another few minutes of silence, broken only by the soft rock tune floating back from the front of the cab, and she was convinced that something was definitely going on with Dare. Either that or she’d hit her head harder than she’d thought. Though she didn’t understand the connection at all, she was also inexplicably loathe to break it.

  But why?

  She had no idea. Nor did she have a chance to think about it. The cab had covered the blocks to Marlena and Stephen’s in record time. Before long, they were pulling up beside the renovated apartment house. The front-porch light was already burning brightly. Before Abby could get out of the car, Marlena had thrown the front door open. She barreled down the steps with her husband in tow. Stephen rounded the cab to pay the driver and help Dare with Brian as Marlena grabbed her and pulled her into a long, bone-crushing hug.

  “My God, I couldn’t believe it when Mr. Sabura called! Thank the Lord you two are okay.”

  Abby pulled away to see Stephen preceding Dare—Brian still in his arms—up the front steps and into the house. She turned back to Marlena. “Dare called you? How on earth did he get your number?” Let alone Marlena’s name.

  “I don’t know. I assumed you gave it to him.” Marlena snagged her violin case before brushing the hair from Abby’s forehead. She frowned as she spotted her skinned temple. “You need to get that cleaned.”

  Abby shook off her concern as they entered the house and started up the steps to the second floor. By the time they reached her brother’s room, Dare had already laid Brian on his bed and begun removing his shoes.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she was still confused. She hadn’t given Dare the phone number or the address.

  Had Brian? He’d memorized both, but how could he have been that coherent for Dare and then fallen asleep? Then again, what did she know about the human brain? She didn’t even understand her own mind at the moment. Everything she thought she’d understood about Darian Sabura had been turned upside down in an instant. In fact, these past seven days since she’d opened that window and let him into her room were the antithesis of her entire relationship with Stuart. She’d swallowed Stuart Van Heusen’s lies for months, only to discover she was horribly wrong about him.

  But not as wrong as she’d been about Dare.

  She knew that now. How could she not? One look at the man tucking her brother into his bed proved it. The genuine compassion and concern that radiated off Dare as he reached down to pull up Brian’s blue comforter and smooth it beneath his chin floored her. Because it was real. She could tell from her friend’s soft smile as they stepped quietly into the hall that Marlena was thinking the same thing.

  “You were wrong about him, Abby. We both were.”

  “I know.”

  Marlena looped her arm through hers and sighed. “Oh, honey. I just thank God Mr. Sabura was there tonight.”

  “So do I. And it’s Dare.”

  She and Marlena both started. Dare had come up on them so quietly they hadn’t realized he’d followed them out.

  Marlena recovered first and returned his smile.

  Stephen clapped him on the back as he passed. “Thanks, Dare. I’ve called Dr. Chase as we discussed. He should be here soon. I’ll go down and wait. Are you staying?”

  To her surprise, Dare nodded. “I’ll wait to hear what the doctor says, then I’ll take Abby to the station.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  Marlena cut off her instinctive objection with a firm nod. “Yes, he does. Someone does. There’s no telling how long it’ll take. Stephen and I will stay here and take turns in Brian’s room in case he sleepwalks.”

  M
arlena was right.

  Dare captured her gaze as she turned. “You’re going to have to face Pike sometime. Might as well get it over with.”

  Unfortunately, Dare was right, too. She did have to deal with Pike. The sooner the better.

  Abby caught the flare of compassion within those dark emerald-green eyes. It burned as steadily as Pike’s suspicions had out on that street, as resolutely as it had for her brother, only now it burned for her. She could almost feel Dare willing her to relax, assuring her that everything would be okay, telling her to trust him.

  Lean on him.

  She wanted to. After everything that had happened tonight, everything she’d learned, she needed to. But how could she? He might not be the bigoted jerk she’d assumed he was. But she didn’t even know him. Not really. So why was some strange sixth sense she hadn’t even known she’d possessed telling her that she was about to get to know Dare—extremely well?

  “You braying ass, I warned you not to disobey orders. Ever. And what do you do?” Zeno kept the cell phone sealed to his ear, the beads of sweat rolling down his face growing fatter and clammier as the boss ripped into him. “I told you to get one drop of blood. A hair, a sample of saliva. That’s it. I did not tell you to kill anyone, did I?”

  Now wait a minute, the boss had just said he wasn’t supposed to kill—

  Zeno clamped down on the qualifier lest he voice it. Now was not the time to argue. It was time to agree with everything the boss said. No matter what. It was the only way to save his hide. He fisted his fingers around the cell phone and lowered his voice as he turned into the alley wall. “I’m sorry, boss. I swear I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  Liar.

  “The driver was in the way, that’s all.” Hell, that much was true. Sort of. “I just thought—”

  “That was your first mistake, Mr. Corza. You thought. Your second mistake was acting on that unique experience without consulting me. For if you had, I would have told you to do as you were ordered.”