She had just enough time to think, I really am going to get it this time, and then everything exploded around her. Something catapulted into her right side and it knocked her all the way over to the wall, which she hit with such a hard thud that she coughed in pain and protest. As she was pushed roughly to the side, she heard a sharp report and felt an angry buzzing sting at her cheek, as if a wasp had got her. Then she saw the blond man named Darrell hurtle himself like a football player right into the dumpy figure of Judith and they both went down like a load of bricks, Judith underneath and howling in pain and anger. Howard took off like a rabbit for the door but was stopped when Mike gathered himself into a crouch at her feet and shot off like a guided missile, cannoning into Howard’s back much in the same way that Darrell had smashed into Judith.
Howard staggered but didn’t fall, and he turned to aim a wild blow at Mike which Dee, sitting on the floor and watching the whole scene like television, could have told him wouldn’t do any good. Mike was quicker than sight, ducking and simply no longer there by the time Howard’s relatively slow fist had reached the place where he’d been. It was almost like watching someone in slow motion, that was how much faster Mike was than Howard. Suddenly Howard was lying on the carpet and holding a hand to his profusely bleeding nose and mouth. Mike shook his hand as if it hurt him, and he turned to see what was happening to Darrell and Judith. Dee’s head, in imitation, swung to the left like a pendulum and she saw Darrell get up from sprawling all over her aunt, that black gun in his capable-looking hand. He rubbed one cheek where he looked to be scratched. Judith was panting on the floor, greying hair all askew, and eyes so full of a molten animalistic fury and spitting hate that Dee was quite happy to be sitting where she was on the floor, quite out of range.
Then there came such a stream of vile filth from Judith’s mouth that Mike turned to her wearily and said shortly, “Shut up, before I shut you up.” He didn’t raise his voice, but her words were suddenly cut off as if a door had been closed.
Dee just sat like a small child on the floor by the bookcase she’d been shoved into, with fallen books all around her and fair hair tousled from the unexpected way she had been thrown about. Her hand went to her cheek in reflex as the stinging didn’t go away, and when she felt something sticky, she brought it away and looked at the red on her fingers. The bullet sent her way must have winged her slightly.
Darrell asked, “Is everyone all right?” and looked her way along with Mike and, incidentally, Howard and Judith. She heard an exclamation and Mike started for her, but what she mostly heard was Judith.
“Pity,” the other woman said maliciously, “I hadn’t meant to miss.” Then Mike was right beside her, putting a gentle arm around her and reaching into his pocket with the other free hand, extracting a white handkerchief which he pressed carefully to her cheek, blotting the blood flow. He pulled back the handkerchief and inspected her cheek.
“It isn’t bad at all,” he told her, gently reassuring. “It’s only about an inch long, and it should stop bleeding in a minute or two. Here, take this and press it to the cut and I’ll go and get the first aid kit.” Dee obediently took the soiled handkerchief and kept it in place while he disappeared. As Mike then applied stinging antiseptic to her sore cheek and placed a bandage against the small wound, Judith and Howard picked themselves up, while Howard mopped up his face as best he could. No one really seemed to notice him much, or care if he bled all over himself like a pig. But then, Dee mused, Howard always had been overlooked. It was the story of his life.
She found to her dismay that her cotton protection was beginning to wither away, and reaction was setting in. She crept over to the curtains and pulled them open the rest of the way. The others were talking and Mike and Darrell seemed to be making plans, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was busy trying to understand just why she was feeling so utterly lonely, so terribly shaken up, when the only thing that had happened was what could have been expected. She could handle it. She wasn’t the type to have hysterics. Still, she thought, her mouth shaking as she stared fixedly out the window, it wasn’t every day that one gets shot at and nearly killed, and I’ve nearly died three times in as many days. It’s enough to get anyone upset.
But what she found herself trying to cope with, and failing miserably, was how Mike had omitted to tell her of his plans. He had not only placed her in a position of severe jeopardy, but he had manipulated her with a fine arrogance, not even respecting her enough to tell her. It made her so very angry she wasn’t sure what she would do if he came too close, too soon. She wasn’t in control, she found, as she gripped the heavy curtains, white-knuckled, at her side.
Then she heard footsteps come up behind her, and knew who it was going to be. She knew quite well who those footsteps belonged to, and he was coming too close, too soon, for she didn’t have her anger leashed yet. It was like a crouching animal, unfettered, ready to strike. Watch out, she thought, don’t touch me or I’ll blow up right in your face. I’m too furious, just too outraged at what you did to me…
…And his hand came down gently on to her shoulder, just as she’d known it would, massaging the rigidity of her neck muscles, and the white-hot fury in her exploded, just as she’d known it would. For the second time in less than a week she swung around, hand tight in a fist, and totally without remorse hit him as hard as she could in the jaw. And as he staggered back that one step for balance, she was off and running for the door and shooting out into the hall faster than she had ever moved in her life.
Chapter Nine
Darrell leaned casually against the couch and surveyed Judith and Howard sitting in two chairs, the gun propped in one hand. He said mildly, “See? I told you she’d be sore.”
Mike looked at him, white and stern, and said harshly, “Shut up, will you?” He shot for the door, calling over his shoulder, completely unaware of the contradiction in his commands, “And get busy and call the police, too!”
Dee was already outside and moving fast. She cut through a few apartment buildings and angled back for the road. There were just too many places for her to go in that building complex. She had the advantage over Mike, as she pelted through the buildings and started running down the street. She could lose him.
She did. In a short space of time she was quite a distance away, jogging steadily, and the physical exertion eased away some of the excess of emotion that had been bottled up inside of her. It was good just to be on the move, to have that illusion of freedom and to pretend that she was carefree. The clean air stirred her cheek and the sun beat down on her head with a life-giving warmth. Eventually, walking and running at intervals, she found herself outside the city zoo, and realised she had gone several miles. She stood, breathing hard and looking up at the sign that was near the gateway, seeing the free admission for the day. Then moving more slowly as she caught her breath, she went on through the gates.
She walked around, feeling the tightness around her chest and heart ease, and pretended to look at the animals with everyone else. A small boy ran into her legs and she grabbed him before he fell, sending him laughingly back to his apologetic mother. Then, spying an empty bench along the well-kept walkway, she went and sat down to bask in the sunshine.
She was just killing time and she knew it. If she really wanted to she supposed she could run off right now and survive, even though she had no money. But it wouldn’t serve any purpose now. The great escape had been a fine adventure and an excellent way to keep hold of her sanity, but there were just some things she couldn’t run from. They had had quite a few shared experiences, she and Mike. Some of it had been really rotten, and some of it very frightening, but a lot had been good. They both had been thrown into abnormal circumstances, though. She knew that she would love Mike probably for the rest of her life, no matter what happened, but she was also reasonable enough to acknowledge that they had some very steep obstacles ahead of them, if they were both willing to work for a future in their relationship. One of her fears was th
at she wasn’t sure if he was even willing to continue to see her.
There was the problem of their age difference. She personally didn’t have a problem with it, but she knew that he felt a bit strange being involved with someone as young as she, and she couldn’t guarantee that problems wouldn’t arise from her extreme youth. She still had college to finish. How would he feel if she wanted to move to a different city for scholastic reasons, when he had his ties here?
There was also the huge problem of what she was going to do with all her money. That, she ruefully acknowledged, was going to be the hardest problem of all. She could potentially buy and sell a dozen private investigators. Mike had pride. It would gall him, she knew, to be supported by so much money. He would want to support her, himself. He would never be sure if she would resent him for forcing her to make a choice between the way of life that she could afford and his life. It would probably destroy them.
Damn that money! Dee beat the bench with one clenched fist and then winced. It was always getting in the way of her happiness, always causing more problems than it was worth. She had never asked to be rich: she would be more than happy to be just as ordinary as anyone else, working for a living, feeling pride in what she did. If only—her eyes narrowed against the sun. If only.
The afternoon was beginning to slide away when a tall shadow fell across her bent head. She looked up, saw him standing silently there, and checked her watch. “You’re slipping,” she said calmly. “I expected to see you about an hour and a half ago.”
He didn’t look very calm standing there, his hands clenched tensely, his face white, his eyes vivid with some kind of leaping emotion. “I haven’t been thinking very logically today,” he said quietly, and came to sit beside her. Turning her head to look at him with that same deep calm, Dee caught sight of the mark on his jaw.
“I was sorry the first time I hit you,” she remarked. “I wasn’t sorry today. I meant it.”
He just looked at her. It was a very hurting kind of look and yet accepting. “I know. I deserved it.”
Damn her eyes—she couldn’t see him suddenly. She turned her face away but not before he saw. She heard the catch in his breath. “Yes, you did. You know, I guess we just have different views of friendship and trust, that’s all. It means something different to you than it does to me.”
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please don’t. It wasn’t meant to be like that. Really it wasn’t.”
“It was!” She caught herself up and then went on. “It was. You didn’t trust me to be able to handle the situation, so you were going to just thrust me into it, all unaware of what was going on, because you thought that it would protect me, didn’t you? You thought that if I didn’t know what was going on I would be able to react in a more convincing manner than if I’d just been faking it. You were going to play out the big, omniscient hero scene, just another damned ego trip!”
“That’s not entirely true, Dee,” he said softly, and it was the same as when he’d interrupted Judith’s tirade. He didn’t even have to raise his voice. Something in his tone and in his manner made her stop more effectively than if he’d shouted an order. “You aren’t seeing the whole picture clearly. You’re only guessing at my reasons, and though you’re very good, you haven’t got the whole of it yet. Let me explain.”
Her throat was strangely stopped up and she cleared it, found she still couldn’t say anything without the risk of breaking into those easy tears, so she nodded jerkily.
Mike hesitated. “I somehow realised the danger that I’d brought you, very soon after that first attempt on your life, and I can’t take any credit for rationally thinking it out. It was an intuitive leap, a fluke if you will. You told me at lunch a few days ago how your home was no longer the welcome and familiar place it had been, and you mentioned casually that your aunt had gotten rid of all the old family staff, gradually replacing them with the ones she’d picked personally. It wasn’t much, but I had heard of a similar case of that happening, only the person who had fired the servants had been the son of a wealthy man who was trying to disorientate his ailing, elderly father in order to have him committed. The poor fellow had been going senile anyway, and it was fairly easy to get him institutionalized. So, your story sounded familiar to me, and out of a sudden impulse I asked you who would inherit the money at your death. Remember?”
“Oh yes.” Dee looked back and she could remember his strange, shocked look, the sudden stillness, the odd seriousness. “You acted rather odd at the time, but I’d thought it was just a mood.”
“They must have been planning this for quite some time. A few days ago it wasn’t much, and I wasn’t sure, but it was enough to scare me half to death,” said Mike conversationally, and the content of his words was at such odds with the normality of his tone that Dee looked at him sharply. He was not casual, as his tone had suggested; the whiteness around his clenched hands and the area around his mouth betrayed that much to her. “And then they tried to kill you a second time. You see, it was my fault that they’d been able to get to you in the first place. I led them right to you, right smack to you, and I would have been responsible for your death if you’d been killed, just as much as they.”
“No!” she protested, horrified at the extent to which he was taking his guilt. “You couldn’t have been responsible. You didn’t know!”
“I suspected!” he ground out, self-accusation running rife through every fibre of him. “I suspected and I allowed myself to be duped into a false sense of security! I told myself that it was too preposterous, too far-fetched, that I was making too much out of a random occurrence! I told myself that those two had been drunk and ready for mischief that night. I slipped up, Dee! I should have gone to the back with you in that Laundromat to check out the place. It’s standard procedure, and I didn’t do it. And I realised that I should have gone back there just that split second too late. To top it all off, when you screamed I ran to the back like an untried rookie. I know better than that! You never run into an unknown situation without taking precautions, but when I heard you scream, everything I’d been taught went right out of my head. All I could think of was that you were being hurt and frightened—if you’d died that day, it would have been my fault.”
Dee shot out a hand and gripped his tightly, shaking it. “No! It wouldn’t have been your fault, because you’re human and you make errors just like everyone else! And that isn’t even an error in judgment. That was just a simple weighing of the facts, and the facts that you had available to you just weren’t enough to base a solid opinion on. You said yourself that you made an intuitive leap and not a rational one—you suspected, but you weren’t to know, not really! Stop blaming yourself for something that didn’t even happen. I didn’t die, and it’s thanks to you that I’m alive today.”
“You could have very easily died, and I led them right to you,” he insisted stubbornly, though his hand turned under hers to grip her tightly. She sighed with impatience.
“You weren’t to know that, for heaven’s sake! You were just doing a routine search for a runaway. How were you to know that they were just using you to find me in order to have me killed? That’s ridiculous, Mike, and you know it.” There was no reply to that and she waited, finally saying, “Are you going to tell me the rest of your story?”
“Are you sure you want to hear, it?” he countered, then sighed. “Sorry—of course you do. Anyway, I realised what was going on at that second attempt on your life—God, that was a nightmare, driving around in circles, looking for you and going crazy. I knew that we had no evidence to convict your guardians with and that you wouldn’t be safe until I could pinpoint them specifically for attempted murder. I also knew that it wouldn’t be long before that quick mind of yours put everything together for yourself, and I think I know what your reaction would have been. You’d have run away from it, believing you could keep safe that way. I hated to think of what could have happened to you. They wouldn’t have given up, you know. They would have kept sea
rching for you and I—hated to see you harassed like that. I’d begun to realise just how I’d hounded you, myself. You had the right to your privacy and independence, no matter what your age. I’d started to care for you very much, you see. You were no longer just a teenage runaway who might not have enough sense or wits to take care of you. God, I should be the first to admit just how much wit you really have—you certainly led me on a merry chase! I’ll never have an inflated opinion of my skills as a private investigator again!” He laughed suddenly, wryly, mouth twisted in self-mockery.
Dee had to smile at that. “What is it?”
The look he sent her was enough to send her chuckling. It was roguish and rueful, and somehow rakish too, with those brilliant, dancing eyes—how she loved those eyes! “I was so sure I’d have you back home, repentant and safe within the first month. It was the only reason I took the job. Then I got piqued, and then I got so intrigued by the ingenious and inventive stunts you pulled that I was hooked! It wasn’t just a matter of professional pride that kept me after you—I had an insatiable curiosity to know what you were really like. Every new clue was like the unveiling of a new and complex personality, challenging, stimulating, exciting. I was intellectually taken with you, and after a while I was emotionally taken with you. I wanted to see you safe and secure enough to be truly happy. So I said to myself that I had to move quickly and get a trap set for your guardians before you really knew what was going on. All you needed was just a little more time—another day or two and you’d have it figured out, I knew—and the best time for you to realise what was going on would be just after your guardians were so convinced that they were home free and safe that they would have absolutely no shadow of a doubt. They had to be that secure to admit their guilt to me, and the fact that I’d brought you to them while fully realising their real intent was enough to convince them that I would make an excellent accomplice. So I called Darrell and helped him set up the recording device early this morning, then called them up to betray you to them. It worked beautifully.” He dropped his head into his hands, briefly, saying softly, “I thought I was going to die.”
The Great Escape: A Vintage Contemporary Romance Page 15
