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Authors: Carol Stephenson

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BOOK: Courting Disaster
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The man’s arm tightened again. “Tell me where the disk is!”

My hand whipped out and I brought it up in an arc, driving the spike into his arm. He screamed and I rammed my heel into his foot. A clatter sounded in the dark. The gun. His arm loosened, enabling me to jerk free.

A hand grabbed mine, steadying me. Jared. He threw a punch, knocking the man into the wall. With a curse, our attacker pushed off and then stumbled into the shadows. Jared took a step and then staggered.

“Jared!” I rushed to him and circled his waist. “Lean on me.”

“I’ll be fine. Just a little dizzy.”

“Hang on.” I dropped to my knees and felt along the ground. My eyes were adjusting to the dark. I first found the gun, but only scooted it to the side. I didn’t know what I was dealing with and didn’t want to shoot my foot off by picking it up. Then I found my bag along with the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

When the emergency operator came on, I kept the panic out of my voice. “This is an emergency. My name is Carling Dent and I need to be patched through to Detective Bowie immediately. Also send an ambulance to Whiplash park. A man’s been injured.”

After hanging up, I checked out Galina, who sat quietly in shock but otherwise appeared to be stable. I returned to Jared and held up my hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Suddenly, people shouted all around the arena, and overhead lights were turned on. In the glare, Jared snagged my wrist. A mixture of incredulity and amusement played across his face.

“You were testing whether I have a concussion by giving me the bird?”

Chapter Seventeen

Quickly, I let my finger drop and gave him a bright smile. “I’ll take the Fifth.”

“Take this instead.” Jared dragged me against him and gave me a fierce, consuming kiss. I placed my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

“Well, well, well. The dynamic duo strikes again.”

We both turned to see Sam Bowie wearing a bemused expression. Several SWAT officers and sheriff’s deputies were with him and continued past us, sweeping the maze. Two paramedics followed and rushed over to Galina.

It was over. As the realization swept through me, my legs took on the consistency of putty and I swayed. Jared put his arm around me and drew me close.

Sam’s sharp gaze took in the movement and his smile was downright evil. “Manning, don’t tell me you finally found a woman your lackluster charms can actually sweep off her feet.”

I took immediate offense. “One, I’ve just been chased through an amusement park and a dark maze by a guy with a gun. My adrenaline is running high. Two, Jared’s
charms
are my business and nobody else’s.”

“Counselor, I give up.” Sam held up his hands. “I know better than to argue with you when you’re all riled up.”

He lowered his hands, still smiling but his dark eyes glittered with intensity. “But maybe you can answer this question. At the entrance of the maze I have a dead man whose license indicates he is one Uri Popov. Two shots to the chest and one to the head. Want to tell me how you managed to chase off a professional hit man?”

I opened my mouth.

“While you’re at it, do you want to give me a description of him since he may still be on the grounds?”

“The last part’s easy. Look for a man with a spike in his arm.”

Jared’s arm tightened around me as Sam scrubbed his face with his hands. “Say what, Counselor?”

I gave him a pleased-as-punched smile. “I stabbed him in the lower part of the arm. Left, I think. He had his left arm around my neck while he held a gun on Jared with his right hand.”

“What!” Jared turned to face me.

“Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed. “What does?”

“That I saved your butt.”

Groaning, he lowered his forehead to mine. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I patted his cheek. “Think of it this way. In some cultures you would be obligated to give me your firstborn or otherwise be bound to me for life.”

“I’ll take the latter choice. We can always work on the firstborn later.”

“Huh?” Wide-eyed, I stared at him.

He kissed my forehead before stepping away to address the detective.

“Sam, this place was blacker than hell, but the shooter ought to be bleeding like the stuck pig he is. He’s about my height, solid build.”

Nodding, Sam unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt and moved away. Jared frowned and reached out, running his fingers lightly through my hair. “Medic!” he called out.

One of the paramedics turned around.

“How is she?” Jared asked, nodding toward Galina.

“Severe neck bruising. Otherwise, cuts and contusions. The stretcher’s being brought in.”

“When you have her stabilized, take a look at Carling.”

The medic grabbed his bag. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” I asked.

Jared spread his palm, displaying a few bloody pieces of colored glass. “You have glass in your hair and you have cuts on your arms and hands.”

“Not before he checks out your head.” I gestured to the medic. “The bad guy tried to scramble Jared’s brains against the floor. He may have a concussion.”

“Carling…”

I folded my arms, ignoring the stinging flesh. “We can stand here and argue all night or you can let this nice man examine that lump on your hard head.”

The paramedic smiled. “My money’s on her, sir. She looks downright ferocious.”

“Fine.” Jared was not gracious in submission, but he allowed the medic to shine a penlight into his eyes, conduct a Glasgow Coma Scale exam and apply ointment and bandage to the wound.

“Your responses appear to be normal, but to be on the safe side, we should take you to the hospital for overnight observation.”

A veteran of traumatic head injuries, I knew the GCS was a neurological assessment that tested the eye, verbal and motor responses. Still, I was only too aware of how problems might not immediately manifest themselves.

“Jared, you should go. Now. You need diagnostic studies to be sure.”

Before he could protest, Sam approached. “The crime scene team is here. Do you want to see Popov before they get going?”

“Sure.” He followed the detective.

“What about me?” I tried to ward off the paramedic.

Jared continued without pausing. “Don’t even think about coming after us, Dent, or I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a crime scene.”

“I’m part of the crime scene!” I protested.

“Then stay put until the investigators can photograph you. Be sure to smile.” He disappeared around the corner of the maze.

“Miss Dent, I’d like to take a look at your arms,” said the paramedic.

I sighed and held them out. “My name’s Carling.”

“Carling, I came through the maze and trust me, there’s nothing about the body you really want to see. Head shots are never good.”

I winced. Bloody crime scenes had never been my strong suit. I’d grown past being squeamish but viewing a dead body was not fun.

After asking me to sit down so he could check me over, the medic applied antiseptic to clean a cut on the back of my hand. “Ouch!”

He smiled and applied a bandage. “I don’t think you’re going to need any stitches for the arm cuts.”

“Great,” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

“You don’t remember me.” He dabbed another cut.

“Not really…”

“I responded to the call the night you were shot.”

I studied his face but drew a blank. Whatever progress I’d made in remembering events didn’t include the actual shooting or the aftermath.

“Sorry, but no.”

“That’s okay.” He put slight pressure on my head to lower it. He gave a low whistle. “Man, the glass is so fine it’s like dandruff.”

Charming. “My purse.”

He handed me my bag and I pulled out a comb. He took it from me and gently drew it through my hair. I could see the glass fall in a glittery shower. I swallowed—hard.

“Do I have any scalp left?”

“You have two superficial cuts, but one looks like it should be stitched.”

“Wonderful.” My head was starting to look like a patchwork quilt. Another paramedic guiding a stretcher came into view.

“I thought you were amazing that night.”

“How’s that? A bullet gave me this lovely scar here.”

“That was just it. Most people would have been out like a light, but you fought me, trying to get to your client.”

I jerked my head up. “I was conscious?”

“Yeah, you faded in and out, but when I was working on you, you kept muttering that you couldn’t believe who shot you.”

My heart pounded so hard that I thought my chest would split. When I had reviewed my file, every report indicated I had been unconscious when found.

“Did I say a name?”

He frowned in concentration as he repacked his bag. “Maybe.” He shrugged as he stood. “I’m sorry, but we handle so many calls. However, I gave the state attorney my statement the next day. What you said would have been fresh in my mind. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Would love to.” I rose, ignoring my protesting muscles. “Do you recall who the attorney was?”

“Sure. Him.” Following the medic’s gesture, I watched Jared, accompanied by Sam, walk back into the maze.

“Do you think you can walk?” asked the medic. “We’re taking the girl out the other way into the lobby exit.”

“Oh, I can walk.” If I was lucky, I would be able to give one state attorney a swift kick in the rear. However, Jared took my elbow, thus eliminating a good angle.

Sam’s radio crackled and he spoke into it as we formed a strange caravan through the maze. With a grim smile, the detective lowered his receiver.

“We have a visitor waiting for us” was his only cryptic comment.

After zigzagging back and forth, we reached the large room where laser tag players turned in their equipment and received their scores. A refreshment stand was conveniently at hand for anyone hungry or thirsty after a strenuous game. Standing between two SWAT officers was a handcuffed Vladimir Petrov.

“Look what we found trying to drive out the back door of the repair shop.” The taller officer winked.

Jared slid in front of me. Strange how his protective gesture made me feel safe.

“Was it a chop shop?” he asked the SWAT leader.

“Gotta love these new parks,” the officer said. “All-in-one playground for criminals. Prostitution, money laundering, drug trafficking and stolen cars. Sweet.” He gave the Russian mob boss a slight nudge.

Sam braced a hand on his hip. “Joe, you didn’t get the shooter?”

The officer shook his head. “No, he got away. He must have hidden his car in another location.”

Sam cursed and approached the prisoner. “Has he been read his rights?”

“He knows them by heart.”

“Joe…” Sam glared.

“Rights read, and I gave him the card for good measure.”

Sam stared at Vladimir, but the man merely looked bored. “I don’t suppose you want to give us the name of the man that killed Uri Popov.”

The Russian shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“In the middle of that arena lies the body of your right hand man. He has two shots to the chest and one to the head. A professional hit.”

“I do not know anything.”

“Know anything about the stolen cars we found in your repair building? You were found inside.”

Vladimir sneered at the detective. “I want an attorney.” His cool gaze met mine. “They are required to allow me to make a call, correct?”

I snorted. “Don’t look at me. Every criminal attorney has her limits, and you’re definitely past mine.”

I swept past him to step outside, and dragged in a deep breath of air.

“Carling.” Jared followed me. “Are you all right…” His voice faded. “I don’t feel…”

I spun around, only to watch helplessly as he collapsed.

 

I woke with a start from a light sleep. Slowly, I sat up in the chair I’d pulled up next to Jared’s hospital bed. Stretching the kinks out of my back, I yawned and glanced at my watch. Seven in the morning.

A slight movement drew my attention to the bed. Jared’s eyes flickered open. The deep fear that had held me in its grip for the past few hours eased. I leaned forward across the bed and gently took his hand.

“Hey there.”

Smiling faintly, he squeezed my hand. He tried to speak but had to swallow. Knowing from experience that his mouth probably resembled the Sahara Desert, I released his hand and poured a cup of water. I held the straw to his lips.

“Sip slowly.”

He nodded and took several sips before I withdrew the cup. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How’s the head?”

“Feels like a thousand gavels hammering inside.”

“Good.”

He looked so wounded that I had to laugh. I glanced around the room. The other hospital bed was unoccupied and, outside in the hallway, the staff was undergoing a shift change. No one to come in and scold.

Carefully, I climbed onto the bed and cuddled next to him. He shifted his arm to circle my shoulders.

“I was terrified when you collapsed,” I confided.

“Sorry about that.” Jared pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I assume you’ve been all over the doctors about my condition.”

I plucked at the cotton blanket. “I…kinda lied.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Let me guess. My folks live out of town, so the only way you could get any information was telling them we were married.”

“Yes.”

Chuckling, Jared tightened his hold on me. “So tell me,
Mrs. Manning,
what’s the verdict?”

“Concussion. Studies didn’t show any brain damage. Just that you would have a major headache when you woke up.”

“That’s why you said ‘good’ to my complaint.”

I continued playing with the blanket. “Anything else bothering you?”

Jared started to shake his head, grimaced and then said, “No. That’s the sum total.”

“Good.” I poked him in the chest.

“Ow!” He grabbed my hand. “What was that for? Are you trying to give me more bruises?”

“When were you going to tell me that the real file on me was hidden?”

His face went blank. “What are you talking about?”

“The file on the Dolinski case was sanitized. The paramedic from the park said he had worked on me that night. He said I was conscious, talking. That I couldn’t believe who shot me. He couldn’t recall the name but indicated he gave you a statement.” I sat up and glared at Jared.

“I’ve been through that file a hundred times. The paramedic’s statement isn’t in it.”

Jared propped his elbows on the bed and pushed himself up. “If I’m going to be on the receiving end of a firing squad, I’d rather be sitting.”

Muttering about stubborn men, I adjusted the pillows behind his back. He settled against them. “Thanks.”

“The pending question, Counselor, is why?”

He lifted a shoulder. “To protect you of course.”

“The paramedic’s statement wasn’t enough?”

“To take the matter to a grand jury? No. I knew I had no case the moment you woke up and couldn’t remember anything. The paramedic indicated that you were largely incoherent, mumbling about a promise you had to keep. I couldn’t be sure.”

“So you expunged the file of anything that pointed to the person I named, meaning he might have access to the file.”

“Yes. I was terrified for you. You were a walking, talking threat to the killer. The only way I could keep you safe while I tried to develop the case through other means was to hide certain parts of the file. Only the chief and I know of its existence.”

“That’s why you broke up with me, to protect me?”

He reached out and took my hand. “No. I’m not that noble. Don’t turn this into a knight-in-shining armor moment. What I said before was the truth. Your personality changed. The therapist said it was a natural consequence of the head injury, but it got tougher and tougher to watch you. You were hell bent on putting yourself in harm’s way, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

BOOK: Courting Disaster
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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