The Kate Nash Series Boxed Set

by Keene, Susan

  Finally, when I shuffled on into the room, he looked up. “Hi, I didn’t think I’d see you until late morning.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “For some reason I woke up. I feel like I’ve slept for days. Who knew?”

  “I’ve been doing some interesting reading. There are over 118 thousand postings under Jasmine Wu on Google. The first ones are all the same. They have name, date, bio, and high points of her career as a skier and a painter. When you get down a couple of thousand you get some obscure references to the fire, the people who were injured at the Jump Club.”

  I walked down to the end of the couch and picked up Ryan’s bare feet. I sat down and rested them on my legs. My cell phone was lying on the end table. There were four missed calls. I didn’t look to see who they were from, I guessed Amy.

  I closed my eyes and drifted back to the night six years ago when I sealed the fate of my husband and my friends with my reckless behavior.

  We were all free on the same night. That in itself was a miracle. Lizzy and I wanted to go to the Jump Club. It was the hottest thing in St. Louis at the time. The club sprawled over about eighty thousand square feet. It boasted a bar, good food, and live bands. The dance floor, suspended about six feet above the tables, seemed to make dancing a spotlight affair. Sometimes there were as many as a hundred couples up there at the same time.

  Talking was out of the question at the Jump Club. The music pulsated through the building, and I swear I thought there were speakers in the chairs to magnify the effect. Now, the Jump Club didn’t fit the bill if you wanted to talk or be romantic, but this particular night, we were all in a rowdy mood and we wanted noise, bar food, dancing, and drinks.

  Michael’s new date, Lori Morgan, fit right in with the rest of us. I liked her. Ryan and I had gone to the club together. Andy, Roomy, and Lizzy met in the parking lot at the club and came in together. We all shared stuffed mushrooms, chicken wings, onion rings, and every other fried and salty food on the menu. The band didn’t start until nine, and we arrived at seven-thirty. Therefore, we had an hour and a half of food, fun, and beer before it got too loud.

  Once the dancing began, we split up. Michael and Lori wanted to dance. Andy and Lizzy followed them up there. Roomy had his eye on a girl who sparked his interest, and Ryan and I sat awhile. I remember the cop in me thinking it was too crowded in the Club. Ryan pointed out the floor, ceiling, the bar, and dance floor were all fashioned out of wood and how unsafe he thought it was. He was looking at it from the view of someone who owned the building.

  The club became more and more crowded. If you wanted to go to the restroom, you had to get into the wave heading that direction and surf into it. Ryan was claustrophobic, and we had caught a movement toward the front door. We were going outside for air and quiet when all hell broke loose.

  First, it got incredibly hot. I remembered wiping the sweat from my face and reaching down for Ryan’s hand because the movement and heat together made me nauseous.

  Someone, way in the back of the dance floor, yelled fire. Of course, I heard that happened later. I could have screamed at the top of my lungs, and I am not sure Ryan, who stood close enough to grasp my hand, would have heard me.

  I remembered the screams came from all directions and the multitudes were running like the bulls at Pamplona. Everyone ran for the front door, and it seemed like several minutes before the music stopped, and I could actually hear anything other than a roar. Ryan and I were only about ten yards from the door at that time. The double doors could accommodate about five at once but there were about forty there at any given time. Screams of pain and panic grew louder, but no one gave an inch. It turned into a brutal, gang mentality-shoving match. By the time we made it outside, my hand ached from Ryan’s grip, and my arm felt like it was coming out of the socket. At my size, I would have been one of the crushed women, had it not been for Ryan.

  Once we made it outside, we walked across the street and watched while the police and emergency personal ran around trying to help people and take statements. The fire department was there within a minute or two and a minute after that several nearby firefighting districts. In all, nine departments and ambulance districts responded.

  It took hours to secure the place and find all of the bodies. Ryan and I had spent our time going from person to person looking for the others. It had been an hour since the last person came out walking on his or her own two feet. I was hysterical, and then in the first light of dawn, I saw who I thought was Andy bending over some people kneeling and lying around a body.

  They wouldn’t let us close so again. I held up my badge and headed for my friend. The smell of burned flesh, wood, and ash was nauseating. Michael sat on the ground beside a body I couldn’t recognize, Andy held on to his shoulders.

  “Lori,” he mouthed with no sound escaping, only his hot tortured breath on my face.

  A young EMT was putting a sheet over her when I walked up.

  I moved on, frantic to find Lizzy and Roomy. About twenty yards into the room, I saw Jasmine Wu. I didn’t know her name at the time. She got my attention with a small gasp I heard when I got close to her.

  “Help, I’m trapped,” she cried, sounding weak and scared.

  “I’m not a rescue worker, I am with the police. If I tried to move you, I would do more harm than good. I’ll get someone for you,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

  She closed her eyes and sank back into the pain. I could see a table was crushing her legs and a ceiling beam lay precariously near her head. I moved on.

  About forty feet away, two men were working on a man who looked burned beyond recognition. I told them about Jasmine, but it was easy to see they could not leave the man they were with.

  “Did you see anyone else in distress?” one asked.

  I looked back over my shoulder. “No, most of the people that far into the interior of the club are burned. I didn’t see anyone alive past the lady I told you about.”

  I kept making my way toward the interior of the club. When I got to the back, I could see where the fire department had cut into the doors. Outside, I found Lizzy and Roomy...

  Now, sitting in my apartment with Ryan, again I came to the same conclusion. I was and am the reason my husband and friends are dead, and that Lizzy is missing. This needed to stop before the killer took Ryan away from me too.

  I sat up, only to realize Ryan was sitting beside me. He seemed to be intently watching me, yet he said nothing.

  I looked up. I wanted to be honest, but my voice was gone and tears flooded my eyes. I began to sob. Ryan moved closer and held me tight. All I wanted at this moment was to feel alive. I wanted to get rid of the pain in my heart and the searing images burned into my brain from the trip I just took into the past and the fire at the Jump Club.

  Ryan seemed to sense my despair. He lifted my face in his hands and began kissing my eyes, lips, and my neck. I kissed him back as I pushed him off the couch, forcing him to stand or fall to the floor.

  As he stood before me, I took his belt in my hands but I didn’t take my eyes off of his.

  “Are you sure?” he said.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  The next few minutes were a blur. I undressed him and he me. It was sex for the need to feel alive, and nothing more. Mostly it killed the pain and guilt I felt. The Kate Nash, the one from the night of the fire, the one who didn’t care enough to stay with an injured woman, ravished Ryan Meade. I didn’t much like her, but she intended to have her way. I hoped she went away soon.

  ***

  Ryan slipped back into his slacks while I put his shirt on. I didn’t bother to button it.

  We made fresh coffee, scrambled eggs, rye toast, and I opened a jar of orange marmalade I’d been saving and couldn’t remember why. We laughed as we cooked. It was playful and needed. We ate as if we were starving and, on the way to the shower, we stopped by the bedroom and made love again.

  The Kate I didn’t like retreated so far inward I couldn’t reach
her, so I let her go.

  CHAPTER 19

  W hen we came off the elevator, Davis and Klein got out of the car where they waited with Ryan’s men, Fanning and Johns. Ryan dropped my hand like a school boy caught kissing a girl on the playground. If any of the four men had opinions about us, they kept them to themselves.

  Davis and Klein followed me to my office and the other two went home with Ryan. We were to meet later. If Amy felt left out before, I thought she would be super upset when I got there. She wasn’t.

  “About time you showed up.”

  “I’m sorry. We came up with a possible suspect who might be responsible or at least the catalyst for the murders.”

  “Well, I went to our Wednesday meeting with Sterling Woo.”

  “Sterling who?”

  “Sterling Woo. W-o-o.” She spelled it for me.

  “Are you sure it isn’t Stanley Wu, W-u?”

  “As sure as I can be. He gave me his business card,” She handed it to me. “I can tell you he is a strange fellow. He has a big office in Granite City in the warehouse district. Everyone had on a suit, and he wore a silk workout jacket and a pair of sweat pants.”

  The card was plain white with no trim. In block letters, it said Jas-Woo Imports, Granite City, Illinois, and a phone number. I turned it over in my hand. The other side was black. Jas-Woo?

  I looked up. “What did he want, and why did you go alone?”

  Amy put her hands on her hips. “Really? Have you called in or shown any interest in our new clients in the past few days?”

  “But--” I stuttered.

  “I’m not saying I don’t understand, I’m only saying we have a business to run. Who do you think ran this place when you sprained your ankle last year?”

  I plopped into the chair behind me, one of the rare times I had nothing to say. I had a whole lot of explaining to do, and I needed to get my eyes back on the prize. The prize was this business. It paid the bills.

  There would be plenty of fodder from which to write my memories when I retired. I loved it, and Amy.

  The police were working on finding Lizzy, so was Ryan. My imagination had run rampant mistaking Woo for Wu and jumping to conclusions that everything I encountered pertained to the murders. Five deep breaths later, I looked toward Amy who was staring at me. Every worry line she had crinkled and scrunched up, making her look like a very old lady.

  I took fifteen minutes and told her about the funeral and about the odd man on the hill at the cemetery. I still didn’t know exactly what happened. I told her everything but the part about Ryan and me. My face heated up as I skipped over it.

  “Wow. Do you think this Jasmine has a mom or dad or lover who is revenging her death?”

  “No, I don’t even know if she’s dead. I was going to go to the records building today. Ryan should be here soon.”

  I thought I saw her face cloud over, but if it did, it was just for an instant, and she recouped quickly. “We can check it out. It’s almost noon. I can fill you in on Mr. Woo on the way. Let’s take my car, it’s less likely to get shot at.”

  “Sounds good, but the two guards are still shadowing me.”

  “Wonderful.” She grabbed her purse. “I love me some big strong body guards.”

  We laughed aloud as we left the office.

  Amy drove a step-side Ranger pickup. It was metallic and changed color, depending on where the sun hit it. It had a cute little back seat where she kept a special dog bed for Digger. It was unusual for her not to have the dog.

  “Where’s Digger?”

  “I dropped him at the groomer’s on the way to work. Mind if we pick him up on our way downtown?” Amy knew I loved that dog.

  “Fine with me. I like the little guy.”

  I could see Ryan’s men were about three cars back. I wondered if anyone else followed us. I couldn’t pick up on anything. The day couldn’t have been prettier, and I was happier than I had been in a long time. I daydreamed and no longer watched for perps, when something came sailing in my open window and hit the console between me and Amy.

  “What the--” I caught myself before I said anything off color.

  Davis and Kline were on it They must have been watching better than Amy or I. The guys in the car who threw the missile turned right at the next corner. The bodyguards were right behind them. We pulled over and dug for whatever landed inside the car. Amy found it, an old medicine bottle like everyone in the world uses. Inside was a piece of paper. She carefully opened the lid and removed the slip of paper, which she handed to me. I felt the blood drain from my head and I had to fight to stay conscious as I read it. She who sees evil and does nothing becomes a victim of the evil she ignores. I was sure I was the only one who received the note and lived to tell about it.

  “Amy! Get out of the truck and run.”

  “What?”

  “Now! Get out of the truck and run.” My feet were already on the sidewalk. I moved so fast, I almost lost my footing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amy move away from the truck. Then I saw a flash. A noise followed as the doors, windows, and seats exploded behind me and a fireball rose twenty feet in the air.

  The force of the blast threw me against the building in front of me. “Oh, please, let Amy be okay,” I yelled above all the noise. As soon as I got my bearings, I got up and ran in the direction, I had last seen her.

  She sat against a wall that encircled a small coffee shop. Debris swirled in the air. People dived under tables or ran for cover. Amy was holding her head in her hands when I reached her. I knelt beside her and grabbed both of her arms. Blankly, she looked up at me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I think so. My ears are ringing and I feel like my back is wet.” I leaned her forward only to see an eight-inch piece of the windshield sticking out from her side about an inch up from her waist.

  “Don’t move! Surely someone called nine-one-one.”

  Sure enough, I heard sirens.

  She reached behind her and came back with a bloody hand. “What’s wrong with me?”

  I put my hand on her knee. “There is a piece of glass in your side. Don’t move. Help is on the way.”

  She tried to stand. “No, Amy, really, don’t move.”

  Amy began to cry.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” Now she gave a nervous chuckle. “I am just glad Digger wasn’t in the truck. I couldn’t have gotten him out in time to save him.”

  I smiled back at her. Paramedics now stood over us. There were four people taking advantage of the warm spring day by having lunch outside. Three of them left the scene by ambulance to Barnes-Jewish Hospital with non-life-threatening injuries. The paramedics checked Amy over for about fifteen minutes before they loaded her up. Seemed more than one piece of glass was imbedded in her body. Thank goodness, none of them hit a vital organ. When I looked up, Ryan stood above me. They let me stay with him under the promise that he would drive me to the hospital. I couldn’t stand on my own but I felt it had to do with my ears. The blast still reverberated through my head.

  For some reason, all the shrapnel went the other direction. After what just happened, I hated to say I was lucky, but I guessed I was.

  When Davis and Kline showed up, they went straight to Ryan. Seems a man paid a guy to throw the message in the truck. He gave the kid twenty dollars and told him it was a gag on his girlfriend. The only conclusion we could draw was that, sometime during the night, someone had wired the truck so it would explode when they detonated it. Whoever did it couldn’t possibly know which vehicle we would drive. That made me nervous. Did they wire my Beamer, or Ryan’s truck? How could they with guards watching us twenty-four-seven?

  The police decided it was possible and towed Ryan’s truck somewhere for the bomb squad to go over it. The same thing would happen to my car shortly. Ryan had Davis and Kline take us to pick up Digger at the groomer’s and then to Ryan’s to get another car. What a mess.

  We took Digger to my apartmen
t with some food and water and headed to Barnes to see Amy. It was dark out by the time we were done. My ears were still ringing, and Ryan insisted a doctor see me.

  CHAPTER 20

  A my didn’t have to go to surgery. The emergency room doctor removed the glass and had her stitched and bandaged by the time we got to the hospital.

  “I couldn’t call about Digger. My phone was in the seat of the truck. Did you remember to get him?” Amy sounded drugged.

  “I wouldn’t forget about The Digger. He’s at my apartment, fed and happy and sleeping on the couch.” I tried to be upbeat.

  “Oh, thanks.” It came out, “Hokay, shanks.”

  “My pleasure,” I said. “Do you get to go home tonight?”

  “Yes, but now I’m scared. I didn’t think I was a target. Do you think they’ll come after me at my house?” She didn’t sound vulnerable often, but she did then.

  I looked at Ryan.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think Kate and I are the targets. However, they don’t seem to mind if anyone else gets hurt. Do you have anyone you can stay with?”

  Amy turned toward him. “I could go to Mom’s in St. Charles, but, Ryan, so could they.”

  He rubbed her arm. “I know they could. I’ll have a couple of my men with you until this is settled. Kate and I can drive you to your mom’s. That way, we can go by and get the dog. I bet he would make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, he would.”

  Everyone knew how much Amy loved that dog. She once broke up with a man she really cared for because he wouldn’t let Digger sleep at the foot of the bed.

  Roger walked through the door as we were finishing our plans. “Well, you guys sure get around.”

  “What do you think?” Ryan asked.