The expression on Sean’s face indicated that he thought this was a rather dramatic way for his nephew to proceed, but he played along. He scanned the parking lot.
“Where?” he asked.
“In part, here,” Morgan answered, gesturing toward Krys’s car.
Sean followed the two of them toward the vehicle. “I don’t understand—oh!” He stopped talking abruptly the second he saw the shattered window. “When did this happen?” he asked, immediately reaching for his gloves.
“Last night. Around eleven thirty,” Krys added, feeling like she had already repeated this information an endless amount of times.
“Where were you at the time?” Sean asked. Since she appeared to be unharmed, he assumed that Nik’s twin couldn’t have been too close to the vehicle.
It still seemed rather surreal to her as she repeated the information. “As a matter of fact, I had just bent down to pick up some papers I had dropped when whoever did this took a shot at me.”
Sean looked at her in awed surprise. “You were that close?”
Krys nodded. “I was that close,” she confirmed.
“You are one very lucky young lady,” Sean told her, shaking his head as he reviewed what was left of the driver’s side window.
“For now,” Krys agreed tentatively. “I’m hoping that your nephew can help me find the person responsible for this so that I can stay lucky,” she told the older Cavanaugh.
Sean was already taking out his cell phone to call some of his team to come out and join him.
“If there’s anything to find, we’ll find it,” he promised Krys. “This obviously didn’t happen here, though,” he said, surveying the damage and leaving his sentence open for her to hopefully fill in.
But it was Morgan who spoke up. “She said it happened in the Weatherly Laboratories parking lot, across the street from their pharmaceutical building.”
Sean looked intrigued. “What were you doing there at that hour?” he asked Krys.
“I was interviewing one of the research scientists who had worked on that new ‘wonder’ drug that’s being released on the market next month,” she answered.
“And someone took a shot at you out there?” Sean questioned.
“Apparently,” she confirmed.
Sean nodded. “I’ll send some people over there to see if they can find any shell casings, as well as broken glass. Would you have any idea how many shots were fired?” he asked Krys, knowing very well that she probably didn’t. Most targets, if they were even aware of the shots being fired, usually heard just a wall of noise, but he thought it was worth a chance asking anyway.
“The shooter got off three shots. I have no idea if the shell casings are still there, or if the shooter came and picked them up. I just took off as fast as I could.”
“Good thing you did,” Sean agreed, “or this conversation might not even be taking place.”
“All right, given how early it is,” he went on to tell her, “I’m pretty sure the glass is probably still just where you left it. We’ll get right on it.” He stopped for a moment, wondering if this newly discovered member of the family was fully aware of what was about to happen. “You do realize that you’re going to have to get a ride back to your place. For the time being, until we finish going over it, your car is regarded as an active crime scene.”
It was an inconvenience, but not one she hadn’t anticipated. “For how long?”
“We’ll process it as quickly as possible,” Sean told her. “But you have to understand that some of the tests we run take time to get the results.”
She nodded, resigned. “Do whatever you have to,” she told Sean. “Just get me the name of whoever did this.” She saw Sean exchange looks with Morgan and knew what that probably meant. “I realize that you keep all information in-house and that I’m just the victim here, which means I get kept in the dark, but for everyone’s safety, I need to know as soon as you do.”
“Everyone’s safety?” Sean repeated, puzzled by her phrasing.
“She’s afraid that since she and Nikki look so much alike, whoever is out to get her might mistake Nik for her once Nik and Finn get back from their honeymoon,” Morgan explained before Krys had the opportunity to answer Sean’s question.
The older man nodded. “So the clock is really ticking on this one,” he concluded.
“More than usual,” Morgan agreed.
Sean saw two of his people emerging through the rear doors. “Then we’d better get right to work,” he told both Morgan and Krys.
“Thank you,” Krys said, smiling at Sean.
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she was about to start dialing when Morgan asked her, “Who are you calling?”
“A car service to take me to the hotel so I can check out,” she told him.
“I can take you to the hotel,” he volunteered, surprising her. “It’ll give me a chance to ask you more questions.”
“Can’t argue with that,” she replied, slipping her phone back in her pocket.
He sincerely doubted that. The woman would probably find a way, Morgan thought.
Chapter 4
Krys looked over her shoulder as she watched Sean and the CSI day team diligently going over every inch of her vehicle.
Though she tried not to dwell on it, she couldn’t help her eyes being drawn to the shattered driver’s side window.
“The people at the insurance company aren’t going to be very happy with me,” she commented as she followed Morgan over toward where he had his car parked. “I doubt if they get very many claims in Aurora for windows that need to be replaced because someone had shot bullets through the glass.” Circling Morgan’s vehicle, she got in on the passenger side. “When was the last time someone from your police department filed a claim like that?”
“To the best of my recollection?” he asked Krys as he started up his vehicle.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Never.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head as she contemplated the way her claim would be viewed once the paperwork was sent in. “I guess that puts me in a class by myself.”
It did that, Morgan thought as he slanted a glance at the woman on his right, but not because of a window that had been shot out by some drive-by shooter gunning for her. She didn’t sound scared, but something in the way she had said it had him thinking that she was.
“Don’t worry,” Morgan told her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Krys drew her shoulders back. She had temporarily let her guard down, a clear sign that she was rattled. She didn’t want him knowing that. Krys pressed her lips together.
“I wasn’t hinting that I needed protection,” she informed him defensively.
“I didn’t say you were ‘hinting.’ I was just stating a fact.” As he drove by his uncle, Morgan lowered his window and slowed down for a moment. “Keep me in the loop, Chief. I’d appreciate it if you gave me a call when you find something.”
“I always do,” Sean answered without looking up. He was far too intent on what he was currently examining to look away.
“So,” Morgan said, turning back to Krys as he began to drive again, “you said that when this gunman missed you, you fled to the Aurora Hilton and checked in?”
He knew this, Krys thought. Morgan Cavanaugh seemed far too sharp not to remember every single detail she had told him. But for argument’s sake, she played along, “Right. On Main and MacArthur,” she said. Then, in case he felt the need to continue with this charade, she told him, “That’s right by the—”
“Freeway exit, yes, I know,” Morgan answered. Leaving the precinct parking lot, he took a shortcut to the hotel she had stayed in. It was located six and a half miles from the police station.
Like all the buildings that had been constructed in Aurora since it had been incorporated a
little more than fifty-five years ago, the building that housed the Aurora Hilton Hotel looked impressively brand-new even though in comparison to some of the other establishments in the area, it wasn’t. That particular hotel had been open for business over thirty years and, like all the other establishments in the city, it prided itself on its appearance and its service.
Morgan could well understand that if Krys wanted to feel safe, this hotel, located so close to the police station, was a good place to come.
* * *
Considering how early it was and the fact that this wasn’t a weekend, the parking lot that was located closest to the hotel seemed to be rather crowded.
Not wanting to have to wait for a valet to come and park his vehicle, Morgan decided to look around for an available space that was farther away from the hotel entrance.
“Hope you don’t mind walking,” he said to Krys. The woman who had just broken up with him always complained if she had to walk even a small distance, but that was because she favored stilettos, which always seemed to hurt her feet. “I can pull up next to the entrance if you’d rather I let you off there. Just make sure the valet sees you.”
She bit back the urge to say that she didn’t need someone treating her as if she needed a sitter. Instead, she said, “Thanks, but I can walk.” The last thing she needed was to be treated as if she was some sort of hothouse flower.
Picking up her on tone, Morgan merely said, “Good to know.” He was only trying to be nice, not get into a verbal sparring match over it.
Driving down several rows, he saw a lone space that was facing the street on the passenger side. Morgan pulled his vehicle into it. After parking, he got out, then made his way around the front of his car and opened the passenger side door for Krys.
Well, at least he has been raised right, Krys thought. She had just swung her legs out of the car and was out of the vehicle when something—instinct?—made Morgan suddenly look over to his right just beyond his car.
There was a black van with a tinted windshield heading straight for Krys and it gave no indication that the driver was about to stop. Moving fast, Morgan managed to pull her out of the way just in time. He threw Krys to the ground and shielded her with his body as he covered her.
He could literally feel the wind that the speeding van generated. It rippled over him even as the sensation of her body beneath his shot right through him.
Damn, but that had been close, he thought. Morgan reproached himself for being caught off guard instead of being on the alert.
Other than the tinted windshield and windows, the van had looked like any other van in Aurora. It had gone by so fast, Morgan wasn’t able to tell if the driver had been a man or a woman.
The van was gone in less than a heartbeat—and his heart was pounding so hard, he found he was having trouble catching his breath. He knew that Krys had to be in the same boat if the way her heart was beating against his was any indication.
“You can get off me now,” Krys told him, hoping Morgan didn’t realize that the reason her heart was pounding so hard was only half because she had come so close to being hit by the van. The other half was because his body had been pressed against hers—and she found herself reacting to that. Really reacting. “I think the car’s gone,” she told Morgan, doing her best to sound gruff.
Morgan scrambled up to his knees, leaning back to look at her and quickly surveying her condition. “Are you all right?”
“I feel a lot better than if that maniac had gotten his target. I guess he’s not about to give up,” she said, trying not to give in to the fear pinching her stomach.
Morgan had gained his feet and extended his hand toward Krys to help her up. “He? Does that mean you got a look at him?”
“I forgot to put in my X-ray contact lenses this morning,” she quipped, brushing dust off her skirt. “I couldn’t see anything through those windows. I thought a tinted windshield was against the law around here,” she said, looking at Morgan.
“It is,” he confirmed. “Maybe the driver came from another city.” It was his best guess. “C’mon, let’s get you checked out of here,” he urged. “I’m going to find out if the hotel surveillance cameras caught anything that might be useful to us.” There was a glint of concern in Morgan’s green eyes. “You still up to walking?”
Rather than answer him, she just began to head toward the hotel’s entrance.
“I take that as a yes,” Morgan murmured under his breath as he quickened his pace.
When they reached the front of the hotel, they walked passed the young, slightly balding valet who looked at them and appeared properly shaken.
“Are you two guys all right?” he asked, glancing from Krys to Morgan and then back again. He appeared genuinely concerned. “That van almost hit you! You’d think people would be more careful when they’re driving, especially in a parking lot as crowded as this one is most days.”
“Did you happen to catch the license plate?” Morgan asked.
The valet shook his head, his wispy hair moving back and forth. “No, I’m afraid not. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and I was too stunned to get anything but the first number. It was an 8—or maybe a 6,” he amended, embarrassed. And then he shook his head, realizing that he was being no help at all. “Sorry.”
Morgan had thought as much. “Thanks anyway,” he said to the valet, ushering Krys into the hotel through the automatic doors.
She pulled her arm away. “I can walk,” she reminded him.
“And talk, I see,” Morgan quipped. “Just humor me,” he requested. “My mother spent a lot of time instilling manners in me when I was a kid. I’d hate to feel I put up with all of that for no reason.”
When they entered the hotel, Krys began to go straight to the front desk, but Morgan caught her arm and directed her toward the first bank of elevators. “Let’s get your things first.”
“Are we making a fast getaway?” she asked, only partially kidding.
“We’re picking up your things before the driver-of-the-year has a chance to find your room and get yet another chance to eliminate you,” he told her.
She took that to mean that he finally believed her when she said someone was out to kill her. At least that was something.
“I suppose that makes sense,” she admitted.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Morgan deadpanned. “Making sense when everyone else around me is losing their heads.”
“Is that even a thing?” she asked, getting on the elevator.
Morgan laughed, amused. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
At this point, she was beginning to doubt that anything would surprise her about this man.
When they reached the fifth floor, Krys announced, “This is me.”
Getting off, she led the way to a corner room that was located just beyond the ice machine. But as she went to use her keycard to open the door, Morgan put his hand on her arm and stopped her.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Instead of answering her, Morgan took her keycard from her, opened the door and went in ahead of her.
“Stay behind me,” he told Krys as, his weapon drawn, he carefully cleared the room and then scanned all the corners to make doubly sure there was no one there.
Moving slowly, he made sure there was no one waiting for Krys inside the bathroom as well.
“Well, unless there’s a child hiding under your bed, I’d say that it’s safe to assume there is no one here.” He looked at her. “Look around. Do you see anything out of place?” he asked, even though the room looked as if the maid had just been there ten minutes ago.
“No,” she answered, and then made her way to the closet.
“Hold it,” he cautioned, then slowly opened the closet door for her, exposing a shallow interior with only a small suitcase standing on the floor.
“I
was just going to get my to-go bag,” she told Morgan. Picking it up, she held it out to him. “You want to look inside, see if my stalker’s hiding in there?”
“It’s not a joke,” he said.
“I know that,” she said, her voice deadly serious. “My way of coping, remember?”
Actually, he thought, Krys was coping rather well, all things considered.
“You have everything?” he asked.
She paused to flip the flap on her backpack and took a look inside. The only thing she cared about was on top. Her laptop.
“Everything,” she replied. Closing the backpack and taking her suitcase, she swung that off the bed. “Okay, let’s go.”
She was about to walk out when Morgan surprised her by taking the suitcase from her.
“Let me carry that,” he told her. Then, anticipating her response, he said, “And yes, I know, you can carry your own suitcase.” He nodded down at the case. “It makes me feel useful.”
Krys said nothing. Instead, she walked out of the room beside the police detective and closed the door behind her.
When they came down to the first floor, this time they did cross to the registration desk.
“I’d like to check out, please,” Krys told the crisp young clerk whose name tag read Jeremy. “Krystyna Kowalski,” she told him so he could pull up her charges. Other than for the room, there weren’t any.
Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “Is there something wrong with your room?” he asked when he saw her check-in date. “You’re leaving us so soon.”
“No, there’s nothing wrong. The room was lovely,” she told him with warmth. “But I have people to meet and places to go.” It was a mantra that she lived by and tended to repeat whenever she was checking out of any hotel.
“Well, I’m glad that there’s nothing wrong and I hope you’ll remember us the next time you’re here in Aurora, Ms. Kowal—Koval—um—”
Morgan looked at her, a question in his eyes. She obviously hadn’t put down her actual home address, he thought, judging by what the desk clerk had just said to her.
Cavanaugh In Plain Sight (Cavanaugh Justice Book 42) Page 4
