by Amy Vansant
Pete grinned and thrust his hands in his pockets. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”
As if.
“Why not? Down in a sec.”
Fiona shut the window and adjusted her boobs to maximum bumpage before jogging to the bathroom to check her face. While in there, she caught a glimpse of a black dress she’d noticed in Catriona’s closet.
Hm.
It will probably be too large but…
It was worth it to look her best and look as much like Catriona as possible.
Though, in my opinion, those two things are mutually exclusive.
NoSeeUm was her ticket out. If he liked Catriona, she would be Catriona.
Fiona slipped into the only pair of heels in Catriona’s closet and searched for her keys before realizing she’d walked all the way from her place to her sister’s after her run-in with Rune.
Dammit. No car.
No matter. The good doctor would have a car. And with him crushing on Catriona and Catriona obviously smitten with the Highlander, she could get Pete to do anything for her. Wasn’t Cat’s sister the next best thing? Revenge against the woman who’d spurned him—priceless.
Fitted as well as possible into Catriona’s dress, Fiona strode into the hall and took the elevator down. As the doors opened she spotted Pete waiting outside, his hands still in his pockets. The payroll office was dark, closed for the night.
Thank god. The payroll woman was so chatty. On and on about nothing.
Fiona slowed before opening the door, so as to appear poised and in control as she made her exit.
Like a pro.
Pete’s gaze roamed her body like a hungry buffalo across the prairie as she made her exit.
Bingo.
“Is that Catriona’s dress?” he asked. The words seeming to stick in his throat.
“Hm? Oh, I needed to borrow something. Do you like it?”
“She bought that for emergencies. She’s worn it to almost every job she ever had to be dressed-up for.”
“The same dress?” asked Fiona, horrified.
Pete nodded. “I helped her pick it out.”
He sounded wistful.
“So you two are pretty close.”
Pete seemed to blush. “Yeah. I mean—”
“Until he showed up.”
He looked away. “She’s been busy.”
Fiona put out her hand and traced the back of Pete’s ear, letting her fingers trail down his neck. He shivered. Leaning forward, she whispered.
“You’re too good for her.”
Pete giggled and then cleared his throat. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. Come on. Let’s go.”
Fiona slipped her arm through Pete’s and led him toward the gate.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I don’t care. You can pick it.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”
“Oh please. Take advantage of me. I want you too.”
Fiona watched for a reaction and spotted Pete swallowing hard.
Too easy.
“So...” Pete seemed to search for a way to break the sexual tension only he was experiencing. “Did you hear about Dixie?”
“Who?”
“From the new craft show. She went missing.”
“Really?” Fiona feigned interest and picked up her pace as they approached the gate house.
“Hold it.” The gate guard stepped out to block the door as they approached. He pointed at Fiona. “She can’t leave.”
Fiona eyed the chubby guard with her best glare but he refused to wither. Too full of misplaced pride for the tiny bit of power he wielded.
Here we go.
Pete’s brow knit. “Come on Don, what’s up?”
“He’s my doctor,” added Fiona. She slipped her arm out of Pete’s to make it seem more likely she was under medical care and not skipping down the yellow brick road.
The guard pressed his lips together into a hard line. “I dunno. Cat said you weren’t supposed to leave under any circumstances.”
“Cat said?”
Pete’s voice changed as he said her sister’s name. It sounded as if he’d just found out the Queen would be stopping by for tea.
She scrambled.
“My sister meant without a doctor’s supervision. But I’ve got Dr. Noseeum—”
Pete looked at her. “Roseum.”
“Right. Dr. Roseum.”
Pete leaned close and spoke in her ear. “What’s this about supervision?”
She whispered back, careful to be sure her lips brushed his ear. “It’s a joke. Catriona told them I was insane and not to let me out.”
Pete chuckled. “Really? She’s so funny—”
Fiona felt her mood darken. The boy was hopelessly smitten with her stupid sister.
Time to work on the guard, currently staring at her tits. “Let us through, Dan.”
“Don,” said the guard and Pete in unison.
“Don. We’re going for dinner to discuss my, uh, medication and then I’m coming back. Cat will never know.”
Don scowled. “Why do you have to go to dinner for a checkup?”
“My pills have to be taken with food.”
Ridiculous, but it was what popped to mind. Fiona did her best to keep a straight face.
The guard looked to Pete for confirmation, and he nodded. “It’s okay. I’ll be with her the whole time. I’ll bring her back.”
The guard shrugged and stepped back into his little house. “Go ahead. But if there’s any blowback, you talk to Cat.”
“Will do.”
Fiona wobbled a little as she and Pete walked into the parking lot. Catriona’s shoes were loose on her feet and had started to rub. It didn’t help Pete’s car was apparently parked in another state. The lot was big, but soon it felt as if they’d been walking forever with no end in sight.
“So where’s your car?” she asked, trying not to sound as impatient as she was. She still had to talk him into driving her to her house.
“It’s that one right—” Dr. Pete’s face fell slack.
“What’s wrong?”
The life in Pete’s eyes seemed to dim.
“Pete?”
The doctor dropped to his knees and then face-planted on to the asphalt. Fiona sucked in a breath, horrified at the sound it made.
“Pete —?”
Fiona noticed what looked like a dart sticking from his back, complete with feathers flowing from the back of it as if she’d stumbled into a jungle movie.
“What the—”
She felt a sharp prick just below the base of her neck and reached up to slap it as if it were a mosquito. Her fingertips brushed the side of something hard, but she couldn’t quite reach it. Her spine seemed to give way, as if the tension support holding up the structure of her body had collapsed like a tent on a windy day. She folded her legs to drop straight down and avoid dropping to her knees or face like Pete.
It still hurt when she hit the ground.
Fiona threw out her hands to protect her head as she folded to the pavement. She felt the sharp bark of skin tearing from her elbow and then slipped into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“We hae tae gang.”
“What?”
Catriona opened her lids, but it was as if her eyeballs had rolled back in her head and she couldn’t get them straight. The world flashed in staccato bits. Someone sat beside her on the bed, shaking her shoulder.
“We hae tae gang.”
Catriona rubbed her eyes until they centered. “Go. The word is go, not gang. And why? Go where?”
“Back home. It’s Sean. He’s in trouble. Ah hae tae gang. Go.”
Catriona sat up and looked at her watch. It was four-thirty in the morning.
“Did he call?”
“Nae.”
“Did someone call?”
“Nae.”
“Then how do you know he’s in trouble?”
/> Broch took her face in his hands, placing one palm against each of her cheeks until she could see nothing but his face.
“Ah kin feel it.”
Catriona squinted into his eyes and found him convincing. “Fine. Let me try to call him.”
He released her and Catriona fumbled for her phone. The cord she’d used to plug it in the night before was too short and as she tried to pull it to her, it ripped from her hand and clattered to the floor.
Spaz. Calm down.
Groaning, she leaned over the bed and scooped it up to try again, hoping to prove the Highlander wasn’t psychic. She didn’t want to admit it, but she had a niggling feeling something was wrong, too. Her anxiety had started with Luther’s absence at dinner and had only grown from there. It had taken the resurrection of a serial killer to distract her. Broch sensing Sean was in trouble now brought all her concerns rushing back.
She heard Sean’s voice on the other end of the line and perked for a moment.
“You’ve reached Sean Shaft. Please leave a message. If this is an emergency—”
Damn.
“Okay,” she said, swinging her legs out of bed. “Let’s go.”
They scrambled into their clothes and jogged to the Jeep. Catriona threw Broch her phone.
“Keep trying him.”
She heard the muffled ringing of Sean’s phone again and again as she drove, each time ending in the same voicemail message.
“He willnae answer. Cannae ye drive faster?”
“Not without getting pulled over or blowing the engine on this poor old girl.” Even so, Catriona pushed the pedal a little harder and heard the Jeep moan with reluctance. She was a trusty old machine, but flying down the desert highway at a hundred miles an hour was more than an SUV with its own AARP card should be asked.
Catriona kept her eyes locked on the road and eased to ninety. There were very few cars on the desert stretch of highway so early in the morning. While that was a good thing, it also meant she didn’t have taillights ahead to warn her about potential speed traps that would only slow their progress.
On the upside, she felt amazing. She hadn’t realized it right away, but it was as if all her aches and pains had simply vanished overnight. Falling asleep in Kilty’s arms, she remembered having the passing thought she’d probably awake in even more discomfort.
Quite the opposite.
“How do you feel today?” she asked Broch.
“Eh?”
“How do you feel? Especially good, bad, anything?”
“Ah tellt ye, ah’m worried aboot Sean.”
“No, not that. I mean how do you feel physically?”
He shrugged. “Aboot the same as usual, ah ken. Yer lip looks better.”
“Yeah?”
She touched the spot where her lip had been swollen. It felt smooth. Normal.
Hm. So weird.
Maybe Sean was on to something, sleeping in the desert. Maybe the dry air helped bruises heal. Maybe lizards had licked her split lip back together while she slept.
She touched it again, finding it hard not to think about lizards licking there.
Ew. Why do I think things like that?
Forty-three minutes and fifty phone call attempts later, the glowing Parasol Pictures sign rose into view.
“Hauld yer horses.” Broch reached out to touch her arm as they entered the parking lot.
“What?” Catriona glanced at him, nearly forgetting to brake before the Jeep hit the guard gate. The tires screeched to a halt. The night guard burst from his booth, waggling his hands in the air.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”
The guard dropped one hand to rest it on his gun. Catriona pointed at her face, hoping he could see her through the glass.
Easy there, rent-a-cop.
Broch opened his door and jogged away through the outer lot.
Where—
“Where is he going?” she heard the guard ask as she rolled down her window. He’d echoed her own thoughts.
She hopped out. “I don’t know, but you get your hand off your gun right now or you’re fired.”
The guard took a step toward her, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion. It wasn’t Don, whom she’d asked to keep an eye on her sister the night before. Shift change was at midnight. She didn’t know the new guy.
The guard moved his hand from his weapon, but maintained his mean expression. “Who are you? Show me your I.D.”
“I’m your boss.” It was a half-truth. Only Sean and Luther had direct seniority over the guards, but she was pretty tight with them. “How long have you worked here?”
The guard sniffed. “Three weeks.”
Hm. That explained the crappy hours. Catriona supposed she rarely pulled in at three a.m.
“Look, I’m Catriona Phoenix. I’m security for the studio—”
“Catriona! ’Ere! Noo!”
Catriona’s head swiveled away from the guard. Broch had stopped fifty yards down the parking lot and now sat on his heel, crouched over something and beckoning to her.
Is that a person?
Catriona gasped.
Sean.
She broke into a sprint.
“You can’t leave this here!” yelled the guard behind her.
“Call an ambulance!” she screamed back.
Sean. It has to be Sean. Something’s happened.
As she grew closer she saw the sneakers on the body’s feet and knew immediately it wasn’t Sean. It wasn’t until she was nearly on top of Broch that she could see the man’s face. He lay on his stomach, nose peeking out beneath a shock of moppy blond hair.
“Pete?”
Catriona kneeled beside her friend.
“Shuid we turn him ower?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think we should move him. There’s the possibility of spine injuries and head trauma and all sorts of—”
Pete groaned.
“Pete?”
Pete moved his arm to push himself to his side, his tongue darting out to lick at the blood covering his lips.
Broch winced. “Och. His face looks lik’ ground lamb.”
Pete rolled himself to his butt, propping himself up with one arm. His face was a sheet of dark red from his nostrils to his chin. His nose had swollen to twice its usual size and the ridge down the center had relocated itself to the left. He stared up at Catriona and smiled, the blood between his teeth casting a ghastly hue.
“Hey Cat.” He reached up and touched her hair. “I love you.”
Catriona recoiled, embarrassed. “Stop kidding around. We have to fix your face.”
“What? Why?” He reached up to touch his nose and then jerked his hand away with a squeal of pain.
“Because I think your nose is broken.”
“You think?” Pete yelled the words but cut short as the movement of his lips seemed to cause him further discomfort. “I must have fallen on it.”
“You tripped?”
“Tripped? No, I...Where’s Fiona?” Pete turned to look left and then, more slowly, right. He wobbled and repositioned his hands to steady himself as he finally focused on Broch.
“Oh. You,” he muttered.
Catriona mimicked his visual sweep of the lot, seeing nothing unusual. “What about Fiona?”
Pete coughed and then groaned. “Do either of you have any water? My mouth feels like I’ve been eating cotton balls.”
“Pete, what about Fiona?”
“She was with me. She was going to buy me dinner.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Dinner, dinner, fo finner, banana fana bo binner...”
“Buy you dinner?” Catriona did the math and began to nod. “Oh. You mean she used you to get by the guard.”
Pete scowled. “No. I mean yes, but I think she likes me.”
“Did she pretend she was under your care as you passed the guard house?”
“Maybe.”
“She used you. What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. I felt some
thing hit my back and then I don’t really remember anything.” He looked around. “Why is everything so wobbly?”
Broch moved around Pete to lift his shirt. He remained quiet as he scanned the doctor’s skin. “’Ere. A wee pin prick.”
“He’s stabbed?”
“Na. Lik’ a wee dart.”
Pete jerked his shirt down. “Get off me, you big monkey.”
Broch stepped away, staring down at Pete with his hands on his hips. “Ah dinnae think he’s right in his heid. The wee dart was poisoned.”
Catriona scanned the ground.
“Where’s the dart?”
Broch shrugged. “They took it back.”
“So someone shot him with a dart, he fell on his face and they grabbed Fiona.”
Pete frowned. “Who goes around shooting people with darts?” He giggled as if he’d told a joke.
Catriona searched the surrounding asphalt for evidence, finding nothing but pebbles and more of Noseeum’s nose blood.
Broch put out a hand to help Pete to his feet. “Git up.”
“No. Go away. I have a secret for Cat.” Pete slapped his hand away.
Catriona sighed and looked at Broch. “Go to the guard gate and make sure he’s called an ambulance. We better get him checked out.”
Pete poked his chest. “I’m a doctor.” He gingerly felt the shape of his nose. “Though I’m not sure I have the balls to straighten this myself.”
Catriona scoffed. “Let me save you some time. You don’t.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Broch strode in the direction of the guard box as Catriona squatted back down beside Pete.
“Would you let someone who earned their medical degree in the Caribbean straighten your nose?”
He barked a laugh. “Never.”
“Exactly. So let’s get someone else to do that for you.”
He nodded. “Point taken. But ouch, jeeze.” Pete took a deep breath as he watched Broch walk away and then turned his attention to Catriona.
“Seriously, why don’t you love me, Cat?”
Catriona looked away. “Pete, the drugs have you loopy.”
He grabbed her arm to regain her attention. “No. They have me clear. I realized last night that I have to know or I’ll never get over you. We’ve known each other so long. Why am I always in the friend-zone with you?”
She peeled his fingers from her arm and took his hand in hers. “It’s not you. It’s me.”