Shot Through the Heart

by Diane Benefiel

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “So what? I’ll tell you so what. That guy’s no joke, Rane. You were in danger.”

  “I didn’t need you. I handled it.” He watched as she seemed to pull within herself. She drew in a few controlled breaths that appeared to steady her and her expressive eyes turned carefully blank. “Now that I know what you really are, that you’ve been lying to me, you don’t need to pretend we’re friends. And you certainly don’t need to act like you’re attracted.” When she turned back to the stove, she moved carefully as if she were fragile enough to shatter. She turned off the burner and got a single bowl from the cupboard.

  “There’s nothing dishonest about my feelings for you.”

  She gave great attention to pouring soup into the bowl. “Of course. You wanted to get close to me, so you rented my apartment to that end then chased away bad guys under the guise of a friendly tenant. All that was a lie. But you storming in, kissing me brainless? That was you being honest? You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t find that believable.”

  He could feel the ground eroding under him. He’d lost control of the situation just when it had become significantly more dangerous. When she set the bowl on the table and sat, he pulled out the chair across from her, turning it around to straddle it. He’d try for cool and rational.

  “Rane.” He waited until she raised her gaze to his. “My name is John David Garretson. I’m a detective with the Seattle PD. I’m on a task force investigating the source of the heroin flooding the streets. The same heroin that’s killing the users showing up in your ER.”

  “And have you determined I’m not the source of that heroin?”

  He couldn’t see past the filter she’d put on her expression, the warmth in her eyes replaced by a distance that made him think she’d closed herself off behind a wall he’d never get through.

  She swallowed a spoonful of soup before repeating herself. “Have you decided I’m not the source of the heroin?”

  “You were never suspected of being the source.”

  “Well, that’s comforting. I’m not sure why you’re here then.”

  He leaned back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. Whether intentional or not, she was turning the guilt screws real tight. “I’m here because of your connection to the DiNardo family. They’re the ones bringing the heroin into the city. We think Simon DiNardo is the broker who distributes to the dealers. But we haven’t been able to pin him to it.”

  “And you thought I would be able to help you with that?”

  “We knew Kyle DiNardo had written to you when he was in prison, that you two had been together, and that he probably still has a thing for you. He was getting out, and we figured he’d try to contact you. The DiNardos are real tight, so maybe you would be an avenue to the family. If Kyle started coming around here, I was supposed to hang with him, share a beer. Let him know I was interested in hooking up with some dope. Maybe even in dealing for him.”

  “I see. Too bad it didn’t work out the way you’d planned. Why did you chase him off that night? Or act like you were my boyfriend? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was him that night. And acting like your boyfriend wasn’t intended. I realized you were scared of him, so I modified the plan.”

  “I see.” She stood, picking up the bowl and taking it to the sink where she dumped the contents down the drain. She’d hardly eaten any of it. Rane turned to face him. “I think you’d better leave now. I’m very tired.” The haunted expression on her face made him feel like a jerk for putting it there, but he had to find out what had been said.

  He rose to his feet. “Sorry, but I need to know what Simon wanted. What did he talk with you about tonight?”

  Her face was blank. “Nothing. I’m going upstairs. Lock the door behind you when you leave.” She walked past him.

  “Rane, wait.” He reached for her arm.

  She whirled on him before he could touch her, temper breaking through. “No, I won’t wait. You got what you were after. You set yourself up to use me to spy on Simon and Kyle. Well, go ahead. Spy away.” She pulled free from his grip.

  “Rane, you’ve got to talk to me.”

  “No, I don’t.” She turned away from him and climbed the stairs.

  Chapter Five

  In flannel pants and a tank top, Rane descended from the second floor, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Cooper trailing behind her. Because she’d worked overtime the night before, today she didn’t have to be in until eleven. But, still, she’d awakened early, her mind immediately full of the events of the previous night. Despite everything that had happened, Simon’s visit, finding out John was a cop and then confronting him, what kept popping up in her head was that senseless, mind-numbing kiss. He’d sure made it feel real. The worst part was her response. She’d kissed him back. Finding out it was all a sham, part of his undercover assignment, made her cringe.

  Rane almost tripped on the last tread as she came to an abrupt halt. John lay stretched out on her couch, still in the clothes he’d worn the night before, a cushion under his head for a pillow. Without a blanket he must have spent a chilly night, but that certainly hadn’t kept him from sleeping soundly.

  Anger boiling to the surface, she marched around the end of the couch and poked him roughly in the shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  “Huh?” He opened his eyes, squinting against the morning sun streaming through the eastern windows.

  “I said, what are you doing here?” She accompanied the question with another jab, this time at his chest.

  His expression grew more alert. “I was sleeping. Stop poking me.”

  “I’ll poke you if I want. You’re in my house and on my couch without permission. You’re trespassing. I think I’ll call a cop. Wait, you are a cop. You should arrest yourself.”

  “Ha ha.” She didn’t like the gleam in his eyes.

  “Maybe I’ll just call 9-1-1 and see if they’ll send out a squad car. Let you explain yourself to a couple of uniforms.”

  When she reached across him to grab the phone on the end table, he moved with surprising speed for having just awakened. She found herself pulled onto the couch, sprawled on top of six feet of warm male. Cooper let out an excited bark.

  When she parted her lips in protest, John covered them with his, tangling his fingers in her hair as he cupped her head. Off guard, she let out a low moan. Oh, God, she needed this. The kiss last night had sparked an insatiable hunger, one that made her crave his touch like an addict. He kissed her with a single-minded focus that had her heart fluttering. She could feel a trembling reaction from deep inside as his lips moved over her face. The roughness from his morning beard against the sensitive skin beneath her ear had her shuddering with pleasure.

  She couldn’t quash her reaction. His taste was like a drug, making her fingers and toes tingle. As his mouth returned hungrily to hers, emotions she’d bottled up all night broke loose, flowing free like bubbly champagne. Her body burning, she gave a groan of frustration and kissed him back.

  At her response, he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against hers, his sure hands stroking along her back where her tank had ridden up, exposing bare skin. She stifled a groan when he slipped his fingers under the elastic of her pants to caress along her hip. Some notion of self-preservation surfaced, and she broke the kiss, angling her face away from his. Undeterred, he pressed his mouth to the skin under her jaw. She gave his chest a firm push. As with any drug, too much and you could overdose.

  “John, stop.”

  He dropped his head back onto the cushion. “Okay, but why?” His voice sounded muffled as he turned to bury his face in her hair and breathe in.

  “Because I don’t want to OD.”

  He leaned back against the cushion to gaze at her from under heavy lids, fingers still tangled in the ends of her hair. He looked warm and rumpled and sexy. “You want to run that one by me again?”

  “You’re a drug, and I don’t wa
nt to OD.”

  He seemed to realize she was serious and drew in an unsteady breath. “Whatever that means.”

  When she pushed back to get off him, the contact brought her more firmly against the hardness nestled against her thigh.

  “You’re killing me, Rane.” He shifted to sit up, putting several inches between them when she did the same. He turned his head to look at her. “Are you telling me you don’t feel anything for me?”

  Figuring after her response she had no defense, she said nothing.

  “Rane?”

  She leaned forward to pet Cooper who sat on the floor next to the sofa, head cocked to one side as he watched her with an avid interest that told her he wanted his breakfast. “I may feel attracted, but I’m hoping the feeling goes away. I don’t trust you. You lied to me. This sudden inability to keep your hands to yourself is just an act. But I’m human. I reacted.” She forced herself to stand on unsteady legs and move to a chair across the room. “You certainly won’t be kissing me again.”

  Shifting to sit back against the cushions, he rested his feet on the edge of the coffee table. “Well, that’s no fun.”

  “This isn’t a joke, John. Besides, why did you sleep on my couch?”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. It’s not a joke, and I’ll respect your boundaries. But when it comes to your protection, I’ll do what needs to be done. Simon coming here last night upped the stakes, and I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  The dark stubble shadowing his jaw made her fingers itch to touch him again. She could feel the abraded skin where his beard had scratched her neck. She cleared her throat past a sudden obstruction. “I can look after myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

  “Is that why you took a gun with you when you went out to talk to DiNardo last night?”

  “Yes.” She paused then had to ask. “How do you know that?”

  “The guy I had watching out for you thought you had a gun in the pocket of your jacket. If he tagged it, you can be sure DiNardo did, too.”

  She thought about that. “It doesn’t matter. It would have been stupid to talk to him without any way of protecting myself.”

  “Good. I’m assuming your father taught you how to use it.”

  She froze, heart thudding. She’d told him her dad was a cop, hadn’t she? “Yes, he did.” She forced herself to speak normally. Even then, he must have caught something in her look.

  “A couple of the guys on the task force knew your dad, and I’ve met him. He worked in a different division, but one of my team worked an undercover deal with him. He was a good cop.”

  Rane tried to read his expression. Was he hiding something? Did he know what her dad had done? She needed to get John out of her house and out of her life before he discovered something that could put her dad behind bars and ruin his reputation. Her own complicity hardly mattered in the face of the threat to her father.

  “I need you to tell me what DiNardo wanted last night. It’s important, Rane.”

  She’d spent the night tossing and turning, trying to decide what to do, but suddenly she saw with clarity what had been clouded by emotion. Knowing it didn’t stop her heart from sinking to her stomach. She had to tell him what Simon had asked of her. And the hardest part of that decision was the realization she would have to trust him to figure out how to put Simon behind bars before she or those close to her were harmed. The sooner the threat from the DiNardo family was gone, the sooner her father would be safe.

  “Rane?”

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll talk to you.”

  He visibly relaxed, as if the tension had suddenly eased from his body.

  “But, first, I need coffee.” She rose and walked to the kitchen, leaving him to follow.

  While she filled the coffee pot, he opened a bag of whole-grain bread. At her look, he shrugged. “I’ll buy you a whole shopping cart of groceries later, but I’m hungry now.”

  This certainly wasn’t how she had thought her morning would go. With the smells of coffee and toasted bread pervading the kitchen, she set butter and jam on the table and sat down with her plate of toast.

  John sat across from her with his own plate. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”

  She didn’t know what had happened to her anger. It had disappeared in the homey activities of making breakfast, replaced by a weary resignation. Her mother leaving when she’d been a child had left her with deep-seated trust issues. Her relationship with Kyle had reinforced the belief that those who were closest to her would let her down. John’s deception was really nothing to be surprised about, but, right now, she couldn’t seem to summon the resentment she needed to help her maintain her distance.

  “First, Simon told me you were a cop. I didn’t believe him. I said you wouldn’t lie to me.” She gave a brief smile. “I guess I put my faith in the wrong guy.”

  He accepted the hit without flinching. He spoke, voice hard. “That was all superficial, necessary for the job. You can trust me with the things that really matter.”

  “Like your name? Like why you’re trying to get close to me?”

  He scowled. “You can trust me to protect you. To keep you safe while we figure out how to stop the DiNardos. To stop their efforts to flood Seattle’s streets with heroin.” He waited a long moment. “What did Simon want?”

  She sipped coffee to calm her jittery nerves. “He said for me to get close to you, to find out what your task force is planning. He figures if I tell him when and how you’re going to set him up, he can be ready with his people. He says he’s going to assassinate your entire task force.”

  Blue eyes turned to cool slate. “He wants you to double-cross me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Obviously, you’ve decided not to do that, if you’re telling me the plan. What incentive did he give you to cooperate?”

  “He said he’d hurt my dad, or he’d shoot me on my way to work. He said if he chooses to, he could kill my friend Lily or hurt Cooper.” She was amazed her voice was so calm as she recited the laundry list of destruction Simon had offered in retaliation for her lack of cooperation. There was no way she could tell John about the additional threat to expose her father for his involvement in Kyle’s prosecution.

  “We’ll put you into protective custody. This may be over soon anyway if our takedown goes ahead today.” He paused, and she could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “Where’s your dad? He can probably handle himself, but he needs to know, and we can put a guy on him for protection if he agrees. And on your friend, too.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t put me into protective custody. It would tip your hand. He’d know I told you. The only way this is going to work is if I act like I’m cooperating then pass along your plan to bring him down, and you can be ready for him.”

  He leaned forward to pet Cooper, who’d come to rub against his knee. “Yeah, you’re right.” He raised his gaze to hers. She didn’t like their sudden gleam. “I’ll just have to move in here with you. I can’t protect you if I’m up in the apartment. And if Simon finds out then all the better. He’ll think you’re moving ahead on getting close to me.”

  ***

  Rane jogged to the employee entrance of St. Augustine’s. Her discussion with John and a quick stop at her father’s facility had added up to making her late, but she’d had to make sure no one could visit her father unless preapproved by her. She’d told John about her father’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, and had couched Simon’s visit to his care facility as a threat to get her to comply with his demands. She’d been watching John carefully, and it hadn’t seemed like his interest in her father was anything beyond the ordinary. Even if her father couldn’t be put on trial because of his mental state, she didn’t want planting the heroin in Kyle’s car, as wrong as it had been, to ruin a reputation he had built over thirty years as a cop.

  She shut her locker, spun the dial on the lock, and hurried into the emergency room. The morning had been slow before her arrival, but fr
om the time her shift started, there was a steady uptick in patients so that, by midafternoon, they had a two-hour wait for walk-ins.

  Rane returned to the ER with Lily after a quick break. A flurry of activity at the entry doors drew her attention. An ambulance crew was rushing in a dark-haired man strapped to a gurney. He had an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, a bandage across his forehead, and his shirt cut open where an EMT applied pressure to a chest wound. Behind the EMT, a man with long blond hair and a stubbly beard held a bag of clear fluid attached by a tube to the injured man. Heart faltering, she rushed forward with Lily. The blond man turned to them. “He’s a cop. You guys better not let him die.”

  Big guy, wild blond hair. It was the man who had helped John move into the apartment. Numb, she reached for the gurney, desperately scanning the injured man’s features. Not John. The thick black hair and high cheekbones were the same, but it wasn’t John.

  “Rane, grab the bag!”

  Lily’s urgent voice made her pull herself together. She donned gloves and took the saline bag from John’s friend while the EMT briefed them on the injuries. An abrasion to the forehead and a bullet wound to the chest. The bullet had entered just under the rib cage and exited out the back. They pushed him into a curtained enclosure and began making an assessment. Dr. Grayson strode in, and, within minutes, the patient was on his way to X-ray and then the operating room.

  She drew back the curtain in time to see John charging through the double doors of the ER. His friend intercepted him, grabbing his shoulders to hold him back.

  “Where the hell’s Nathan? How bad is he?”

  “John!” She hurried to his side.

  He whirled at the sound of her voice. “Where is he? Where’s my brother?”

  She laid a calming hand on his arm. “He’s on his way to surgery.” When he began to pull away like he would chase down the gurney and check for himself, she tightened her hold. “John, listen to me. He looks okay. The bullet went all the way through. He’s got some serious tissue damage, but his vitals are good. The doctor doesn’t think any major organs were hit.”