Lethal Memory (A Counterstrike Novel Book 2)

by Jannine Gallant

  “Immensely.”

  * * * *

  “You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?” Noah stood beside the kitchen door with a tackle box in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. “I love fishing, especially in the evening. You’ll be missing out,” he teased.

  “On frostbite. It’s freezing out there.” Riley waved toward the view of long shadows stretching across the yard to choppy sea waters visible through the window. “I’ll keep the fire going and make dinner. If you catch a fish, we can throw it in the pan with the chops.”

  “Your take on surf and turf sounds good to me.” He bent to kiss her, taking his time. “I’ll see you in an hour or so. I don’t imagine I’ll last much longer than that since you have a point about the chilly temperature.”

  “Next time, if you want to fish during the day when the sun is out, I’ll go with you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” With a final kiss, he headed outside, whistling as he walked toward the dock.

  Riley shut the door and turned to face Stormy. “Noah’s going to turn into a popsicle.”

  The dog stared at her food bowl, apparently unimpressed with his fate.

  “Fine. Dinner for you now. Then I’ll work on ours.”

  A half hour later, she’d made a salad and slathered a short loaf of sourdough bread with garlic butter, ready to broil. All she needed to do was cook the seasoned pork chops. Standing at the window, she peered through the dark night, searching for his boat. A light bobbed out in the Narrows, probably at least a couple hundred yards from shore, which meant Noah must still be fishing.

  She’d hold off on cooking the chops.

  From the front of the house, the faint sound of tires crunching gravel caught her attention. Reaching over, she flipped off the kitchen light. Standing in the dark, she wondered if the teens who’d been drinking the night before had returned. Straining to hear, she detected the quiet click of a car door shutting, followed by footsteps. No voices. Surely if it were kids intent on partying, they’d be talking to each other.

  A chill shot through her and shivered down her spine.

  Feeling her way along the counter to the back door, she put on her jacket and slipped outside. Stormy raced past her and disappeared into the yard. The distinctive squeak of the porch screen door opening sent her heartrate into overdrive.

  Before she had time to react, her dog tore around the side of the house, barking like a lunatic. Someone swore, and a light flashed on. Running footsteps were met with more barking.

  “Noah!” Her cry was whipped away on the wind as Riley raced toward the shore. She’d just reached the beach when the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed in the night.

  “Riley!” Noah’s shout carried across the water before the boat engine sputtered to life.

  Riley dropped to the ground and crouched behind a group of boulders. Whoever was hunting her turned off his flashlight and passed close by her to stride down the length of the dock. Her pulse pounded in unison with the hollow thud of his footfalls, and her breath stalled in her throat. In the dim starlight, she could barely make out a darker shadow as he reached the boathouse.

  Something furry brushed up against her side, and she let out a muffled screech just as the boathouse door thumped against the wall. Stormy. Her dog pressed close and whined.

  The flashlight beam darted around the interior of the building before the man turned back.

  Out on the water, Noah’s boat pounded over the waves, hitting each one with a hard slap. He was maybe fifty yards from the end of the dock when two more gunshots echoed in quick succession. The engine sputtered and died, followed by a splash a few moments later.

  Riley covered her mouth with her hand. Afraid to move. Afraid not to. If Noah had fallen into the water, bleeding from a bullet wound . . . She picked up a couple of rocks and rose on shaking legs.

  The beam from the shooter’s flashlight waved in erratic patterns, lighting up swaths of the rocky shore. If she didn’t move, she’d be an easy target, caught like a trapped animal in the spotlight. Hefting one of the rocks, she threw it as far as she could into the tidepools up the beach. It clattered as it landed, and the beam of light immediately swung in the same direction. She heaved a second rock for good measure, and the man leaped down from the end of the dock and pounded across the sand.

  As soon as he passed her, Riley ran in the opposite direction. In the distance, the faint wail of a siren grew louder.

  “Shit!” Shoes clattered against loose rocks before the shooter crossed the yard at a sprint. An engine started, and tires sent up a spray of gravel as the vehicle roared away.

  “Noah! Noah!” Riley’s voice broke, and she brushed tears from her eyes with a shaking hand. Blinking, she scanned the water for some sign of movement.

  “Noah!” Fear gripped her as she ran into the breaking surf, muttering snatches of prayer through clenched teeth. “Noah!” she screamed. “Noah!”

  Chapter Twelve

  A blaring siren, shrill barking, and his name called over and over penetrated Noah’s numb brain as he focused on pushing through the water, swimming toward the source. Stroke, kick, stroke, kick. He had to reach shore. Had to get to Riley. Stroke, kick, stroke, kick. He gasped for breath, and his lungs seemed to compress when his knee rammed into a rock. Jabs of pain shot up his leg.

  “Noah!” Something gripped the back of his shirt.

  Riley.

  “Did he hurt you?” His words slurred together.

  “I’m fine. Can you get up?”

  “Yes.” With an effort, he pushed to his feet and staggered against her as he waded the last couple of yards. “Cold.” His teeth chattered so hard he could barely speak. “The shooter?”

  “He’s gone. Oh, God.” Riley pulled off her jacket and tried to wrap it around him as he fell onto the beach. “You must be hypothermic. That water’s freezing.”

  Somewhere in the dark, the whine of the siren cut off, and doors opened.

  Gasping for breath, he sat up on his haunches and shouted, “We’re on the beach!” Moments later, a powerful spotlight blinded him, and he raised a hand to cover his eyes as two figures approached. “The shooter took off.”

  “Put your hands where I can see them. Don’t move.”

  “Do as he asked.” Noah nudged Riley before raising his own arms into the air. “They don’t know we’re the good guys.”

  “We’ll need to see some ID.” The request came from a woman, her tone direct, unsympathetic.

  “My driver’s license is in the house.” When Stormy growled somewhere nearby, Riley spoke again, her voice high and quavering. “It’s okay, girl. Quiet.”

  The female officer patted Riley down. “She’s clean.”

  Hands ran over Noah’s torso and checked his pockets. He gritted his teeth hard but couldn’t stop shaking.

  “So is he. No ID on him, either.” The male officer pulled Noah to his feet. “We need to get you inside and warmed up before you go into shock. Can you walk?”

  “I’ll manage. I’m Dr. Noah Kimball. I own this property, and I’m the one who called 9-1-1.”

  “You said there was a shooter?” Holding his arm in a tight grip, the cop walked at his side as he stumbled up the incline. “Where’d this person go?”

  “He took off when he heard your siren,” Riley answered.

  “On foot?”

  “No, in a vehicle.”

  They were halfway across the yard when a second car with flashing lights approached on the access road.

  “That’ll be someone from the sheriff’s office. Can either of you give me a description of the vehicle?” The man holding him upright propelled him forward.

  Riley shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I never saw his car.”

  Noah unclamped his jaw. “If it’s the same man who attacked Riley yesterday, whatever he’s driving may have Massachusetts plates.”

  “Go talk to the deputy. Tell him to initiate a search in the immediate vicinity for a vehicle with o
ut of state plates. Make sure he knows the driver is armed.”

  “Got it.” The female officer hurried away.

  “Please. Noah’s freezing. Can we—” Riley’s voice broke.

  “Let’s get you both inside.”

  The cop spoke into his radio, but Noah was too numb to focus on what he was saying. When they reached the back door, he stumbled into the house and reached over to turn on the light. Blinking from the brightness, he braced his feet and swayed.

  “My ID is in my wallet on the counter by the toaster.”

  “Mine is in my purse in the living room.” Riley put her arm around his waist and guided him toward the woodstove. “You need to get those clothes off.”

  His wet socks squeaked against the wood floor with each step. “Hot shower. My body temp is pretty low.”

  “Officer?” She spoke loudly in the silent room. “Can I help him upstairs?”

  The cop, a middle-aged man with a close-cropped beard and sturdy build, set the wallet back on the counter. “You look a little blue, Dr. Kimball. Get him into the shower, ma’am, but then come right back down. I want a statement from you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be as fast as possible.”

  Noah made it up the stairs, but he had to hold onto Riley each step of the way. His whole body shook, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet while she turned on the shower and peeled his dripping clothes off him.

  “Oh, my God! You’re bleeding!”

  “Just a scratch.” He glanced down at the shallow groove in the fleshy part of his upper left arm, still oozing blood. “I’ll bandage it after I get out of the shower.”

  “That freak could have killed you!” She sniffed hard and wiped the back of her hand over her wet cheeks. “I can’t believe he shot you.”

  “With me out of the way, he probably figured you’d be easy pickings.” Noah stepped into the shower and braced his hands against the wall while blessed heat enveloped him.

  “Did you fall overboard?”

  “No, I jumped in after a bullet ricocheted off the engine and nicked me. I didn’t want him to get lucky the next time.” He turned his head to meet her gaze. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her face. “Hey, I’m fine. Please tell me that asshole didn’t touch you.”

  “No. I ran outside when I heard a car stop in the driveway, which turned out to be lucky. I guess I should go talk to the police. Can you manage alone?”

  “Yep. I already feel one hundred percent better. I’ll come down in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” She gave him a tremulous smile before shutting the shower door and leaving the room.

  Noah stood still, head hanging, letting the hot water beat down on him. His brain still felt sluggish from the freezing water. Riley was safe, and that was all that mattered. But for how long?

  He twisted the knob to turn off the faucet and stepped out of the shower. A trickle of blood ran down his arm from the bullet graze as he dried the rest of his body. After knotting the towel around his waist, he pulled first aid supplies from the cabinet, cleaned off the blood, and spread antibiotic ointment over the wound before applying a bandage. Picking up his wet clothing, he tossed the pile on the shower floor and headed downstairs.

  Riley and the two police officers broke off their conversation and turned toward the stairs as he descended.

  “My clothes are all down here.” Tightening his grip on the towel, he crossed the floor and bent to grab his duffel bag.

  “Get dressed, and then I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Noah nodded at the man and headed toward the downstairs’ bathroom. Once he’d dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved, thermal T-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt, he rejoined the others.

  “How do you feel?” Riley scooted closer to Stormy, who was sprawled across one end of the couch, and patted the cushion next to her.

  “A whole lot warmer.” He sat down and faced the two cops standing near the woodstove. “Did you locate the shooter?”

  “Not yet. I’m Officer Edwards, and this is Officer Jost.” He nodded toward his partner. “I’d like to hear your version of tonight’s events, Dr. Kimball.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. I was fishing off Pulpit Ledge when I heard Riley shout my name, followed by a gunshot. I started the outboard and headed toward shore while I called 9-1-1. The bastard took a couple of shots at me while I was on the way in. A bullet ricocheted off the engine, killing it, and grazed my arm. I ditched my phone and jacket in the boat, kicked off my shoes, and dived overboard. Better to risk hypothermia than get picked off. By the time I swam to shore, you were arriving on the scene.”

  “Do you have any idea who would want to shoot at you?” Edwards asked.

  “I can only assume it’s the same person—or someone hired by the person—who has made previous attempts to kidnap Riley.”

  “I told them what happened at Harbor House yesterday.” Riley laid a hand on his knee. “I also gave them Detective Brasher’s contact information so they can fill him in on this evening’s attack.”

  “If that’s the case, you know as much as we do.” Noah covered her hand with his and squeezed. “I doubt the asshole will return anytime soon since he must be aware the police are out in force looking for him, but I’d be a fool to assume we’ll be safe here for long. Which means we’ll take off first thing in the morning.”

  “Are you driving back to Boston?” Officer Jost smoothed a strand of dark hair back into place beneath her regulation cap.

  “Probably not. Honestly, I’m not sure where we’re going. He tracked us here, to a place where I have ties but don’t spend much time.”

  “Hopefully the police will find him tonight,” Riley said.

  “Without any kind of vehicle description, that doesn’t seem likely.” Edwards crossed his arms over his chest. “If he does stick around or tries to come back, that’ll be his biggest mistake. In a town the size of Winter Cove, we’ll immediately notice any car that doesn’t belong to a local. I can only assume he got away before we put out the call to question drivers who aren’t residents.”

  “Honestly, I feel better knowing you’ll be patrolling the area since I’m not exactly at my best right now.” Noah grimaced. “That frigid water took a toll, mentally and physically.”

  “I bet.” Officer Jost slid the notepad she’d been using into her jacket pocket. “You’re lucky you made it back to shore.” She gave him a quick smile. “We’ll be in touch if there’re any new developments in the search.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  The senior officer studied him for a long moment. “You look a lot better than when you crawled out of the water, but I can still call for an ambulance if you want medical attention.”

  “No need. I’m fine.” Noah rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Thanks for your quick response to my call.”

  Edwards shook it. “I crewed on your grandpa’s fishing boat for a couple of summers back when I was still in high school. I had a whole lot of respect for him, and I remember seeing you around town when you were still a kid. I’m glad we could be of service.”

  “Riley and I both appreciate it.” Noah followed the officers to the door and shut it behind them. Afterward, he stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the window into the night. “I need to go see if my boat washed up on shore yet. The way the tide is running right now, it should come in fairly close to the dock.”

  Riley stepped up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. “I’ll help you.”

  “Why don’t you cook dinner instead? After all that excitement, we both need to refuel.”

  “I don’t think I can eat.”

  Turning his back to the window, he stroked the side of her cheek with his thumb. “You’ll feel differently once it’s ready.” He dropped a kiss onto her lips before pulling away. “But I don’t want to leave you unprotected.”

  Riley glanced toward the living room when paws hit the floor with a thump. “I have Stormy. I think that bastard took a sh
ot at her when she ran around the house to confront him. He missed, thank God, but she did her best to protect me.”

  “It isn’t easy to pick off a moving target in the dark.” Releasing her, Noah walked over to the foot of the stairs where he’d left his bag of clothes. Searching inside, he pulled out his Glock 9-millimeter and made sure the magazine was full. After loading the weapon, he returned to the kitchen.

  Riley let out a slow breath. “Do you think you’ll need that?”

  “Not me. You. Do you know how to shoot?”

  “I used to target practice with my grandpa’s rifle. I was pretty good at it.”

  “You remember shooting?”

  “I guess so.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I can picture myself standing in the cornfield after harvest, shooting at a bullseye pinned to a bale of hay. I remember the kick of the gun against my shoulder.”

  “Then you won’t be afraid to use this. If anyone tries to get into the house, point and shoot.” He laid the weapon on the counter.

  “Damn right I will.”

  “You constantly amaze me.” He flashed a quick smile. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Lock up behind me.”

  Retrieving the boat wasn’t as simple as he’d made it sound since he wasn’t in the mood to get soaked again. By the time he finally managed to climb inside and rowed back to the boathouse, he was sweating from exertion. After retrieving his jacket, shoes, fishing gear, and phone, he checked his cell.

  One voicemail from Wolf.

  Dropping his load on the dock, he returned his friend’s call without listening to the message. Wolf wouldn’t have contacted him if it wasn’t important.

  The team leader picked up on the first ring. “I wondered when you’d get back to me. Everything okay, Patch?”

  “Not exactly, but the situation is under control now. What’s up?”

  He was quiet for a second. “There’s a situation developing. I’ll know more by morning, but I’m afraid the team will need you.”

  Noah ran a hand across the back of his neck and blew out a harsh breath. “That asshole made another attempt to get Riley this evening. He also took a shot at me. I can’t just leave her.”