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Fatal Encounter (A Counterstrike Novel Book 1)

Page 9

by Jannine Gallant


  “Taking a little help now and then is good for your character.” He stepped closer and slid an arm around her. Being careful not to bump her bandaged side, he helped her sit upright with the blanket tucked beneath her arms. “Other than that, how’re you doing?”

  “I’m not going to lie. My ribs hurt like hell. After I got shot, the bullet wounds were all I could think about. They aren’t bothering me at all, now.”

  “Probably because the local hasn’t worn off yet.” He hitched his hip up onto the table and kept his arm where it was, holding her close. “You’re going to need some recovery time.”

  “I know.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “This sucks.”

  “I don’t know. I’m holding a gorgeous, naked woman in my arms. It doesn’t suck that much.”

  She started to laugh and grabbed her side. “Oww, don’t do that. It hurts too much.”

  “Sorry.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll hang out at my place and let yourself heal. In the meantime, I’ll do a little searching to see if I can find that safe deposit box key. Have your friends had any luck identifying the hitman?”

  “I don’t think so. Luna would be the one to ask.”

  When Jaimee tilted her head to look up at him, Eli grinned. “The woman is extremely fine, but I’ve never been partial to bike shorts.”

  “Could have fooled me. Not that I care who you ogle.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe you still have a crush on me like you did back in college.”

  She jerked away, ignoring the stab of pain. “I didn’t—I mean, how did—”

  “You mentioned it while you were all drugged up. I’m flattered. Especially since I was an egotistical jerk for a short while after I got that first book contract.”

  She let out a low moan. “What else did I say while Patch pumped me full of drugs?”

  “Nothing incriminating. You were mumbling about flowers, and you mentioned coffee. Seems to me you could use a stiff shot of tequila right now more than a cup of joe.”

  The wave of sadness that always came with any mention of Coffee was more like a gentle swell than a tsunami. Six months had helped ease her sorrow—and her survivor’s guilt.

  “Hey, did I say something wrong? I was just teasing you about the crush. I should be so lucky.”

  She smiled into his concerned blue eyes. Eli really was a good guy, but she was too exhausted to express what she was feeling. “No, nothing’s wrong, other than the obvious.”

  The door opened before he could respond, and Watson ran into the room, followed by Luna and Patch. The other woman set a pair of jeans and a shirt on the counter.

  “I keep a change of clothes in my office since I frequently crash here after a marathon work session. Hopefully they’ll fit you. We look about the same size.”

  When Watson jumped up to rest his paws on the table next to her, Jaimee stroked his head. “Thank you. I’m grateful for both the clothes and the blood you donated.”

  “No problem. Patch and Wolf speak very highly of you, and I’m happy to be able to do something to help. I sponged the blood out of your jacket, sewed up the holes, and put it in the dryer. It should be ready by the time you get dressed.”

  Jaimee swallowed against the lump in her throat. “You’re very kind.”

  “I like to pay it forward every chance I get. We can all use a little good Karma.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” Patch studied her closely. “Your color is good. How’s the pain?”

  “I can manage it.”

  He handed her a bottle of pills, a stack of gauze pads, and the rib belt. “Directions for the medication are on the bottle. Don’t be afraid to take them. The stitches will dissolve on their own. Call me if you have any problems.”

  “I will. Thanks, Patch.”

  “Hey, we miss you. Wolf would have been overseeing this whole process if he wasn’t out of town at the moment.”

  “I bet.” She let out a long breath as exhaustion weighed heavily on her. “Am I good to go once I put on some clothes?”

  “Yes, but you’re welcome to spend the night if you want to.”

  “Jaimee can sleep in the car on the way back.” Eli covered her hand where it rested on the table. “I have a meeting later this morning I don’t want to miss. If I pick up a coffee on the way out of the city, I should be fine to drive since I still seem to be running on adrenalin. It’s nearly sunrise, anyway.”

  “I’ll make a thermos full for you and get that jacket.” Luna smiled briefly before she hurried away.

  Patch started to follow then paused in the doorway. “You know you have a place to stay with me anytime you want, right?”

  “I appreciate that, but I feel like I need to go back to New Hampshire. I want to find the bastard who shot me.”

  “Luna thought she had a lead on him, but it fizzled. She’ll keep digging.”

  Jaimee gave him a tired smile. “Wolf obviously found a winner when he recruited her.”

  “Nothing’s been the same since we lost Coffee—and you—but we’re pressing onward.” He turned to leave. “I’ll let you get dressed. Take care, Scarlet.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door shut with a soft click.

  Eli stepped around Watson, who hadn’t moved from their feet, and picked up the pile of clothes. “Do you need some help?”

  “Probably.” Letting the blanket fall away, she carefully raised her arms and was pleased when the motion wasn’t too painful.

  Eli slid the soft cotton T-shirt over her head, then shook out the folded jeans and worked the tight legs over her feet and up to her knees. “Move Watson.” He nudged the dog out of the way. “Can you stand up?”

  “Yep.” Grabbing onto his arm, she slowly eased down from the table and managed to get the pants pulled up and fastened. “At least they fit.”

  “Things are looking up. Sit in the chair, and I’ll get your shoes.” He crouched at her feet to tie them. “Coffee is a person?”

  She nodded.

  “Did he . . . or she . . . quit when you did?”

  At his compassionate tone, tears threatened. She forced them back. “No, he didn’t quit.”

  Rising to his feet, Eli carefully pulled her up and into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  She pressed her forehead against his neck. “So am I.” For the first time in months, she was finally able to let a few tears fall.

  Chapter Eight

  Angry didn’t begin to describe Vanna’s state of mind. Apoplectic came close. The contract killer on the other end of the line currently making excuses for his failures had been a childhood friend of her ex-lover’s. Since the man had been nothing but a user while they were together, she should have known better than to trust the jerk’s recommendation. Still, her choices were limited. It wasn’t like she could look up assassins in the Yellow Pages.

  “I found traces of blood on a tree when I went back to look for the dog walker, so I must have winged her. I have our mutual connection checking ER admittance records, but so far it doesn’t look like she’s gone anywhere for treatment.”

  His words finally penetrated her brooding thoughts. “Wait, you shot her?”

  “I said I did. Haven’t you been listening?” His slight accent deepened with irritation.

  “I tuned out after ‘she got away.’ I was under the impression you were a professional. I’ve never experienced such incompetence.”

  “You’ll get your money’s worth . . . not that you’ve paid me the balance for the original hit.”

  “I’ll pay you once you’ve cleaned up your mess.” Vanna tapped her fingers on the windowsill as she stared out over the backyard toward the woods on the far side of the creek. Dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky, but the house was dead silent. She would still be asleep, too, if her ringing phone hadn’t woken her.

  “She must have someone helping her. I found her car parked in the woods where she left it, so she isn’t using that for transportation.”
<
br />   “Have you set up surveillance on her friends or checked with relatives to see if she’s staying with one of them? Good God, how hard can finding one person be?”

  “From what I’ve learned, Jaimee Fleming is a loner with no real friends in the area, and she hasn’t been back to any of her clients’ homes since the incident. Did you know she was an Olympic biathlete? The woman has an interesting history, but before she moved to Hawthorne, she was a ghost for several years. I couldn’t find any work history after her skiing career ended, and her only close relatives are her mother and an aunt, who live in California. She doesn’t have much contact with them, if any. Don’t think I haven’t been digging into her background.”

  Vanna clenched and unclenched the fist she’d stuffed in the pocket of her bathrobe. “If she has a bullet wound and was bleeding, someone must be helping her unless she dropped dead out in the woods.”

  “Believe me, I checked thoroughly for her body. If that damn siren hadn’t scared me off, I would have spooked her out of the trees after I shot her. But I couldn’t risk sticking around if she’d called 9-1-1. Turned out it was one of the local deputies pulling over a drunk driver who refused to stop. Still, by the time I realized my mistake and got back out to the woods, she was gone.”

  “At least you realize you made a mistake,” she snapped. “A huge one. Keep looking into the woman’s connections. She must know someone local who picked her up.”

  “I don’t have any idea who’s helping her, but I’ll find the bitch. She can’t stay hidden forever. If she goes back to her car, that’ll be her last mistake.”

  “I hope so. You’d better hope so, too.” Vanna disconnected and threw her phone on the bed.

  “Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!” Her temples throbbed, and she pressed her fingers into her hair to massage them. “Damn!”

  Why couldn’t anything ever be simple?

  * * * *

  Eli pulled into the garage, turned off the engine, then hit the remote to lower the door behind them. After it rumbled down, he reached over to lay a hand on Jaimee’s shoulder. “We’re home.”

  Slowly she opened her eyes and blinked in the morning light streaming through the windows over the workbench. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “You were out for pretty much the whole drive. Don’t move. I’ll come around and help you.”

  She nodded and petted Watson when he stuck his head between the seats. “I feel a little better. At least I should be able to walk now.”

  “I don’t want you trying to do too much too soon.”

  “I’ll take it easy today and work on getting my strength back.”

  “Good plan.” He waited while Watson clambered over the seat and jumped to the cement floor, then rounded the car to open Jaimee’s door. When she swung her legs out, he bent to slip an arm around her good side and helped her to her feet.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Her voice caught as she walked slowly toward the door with Eli’s help. “I didn’t realize how isolated I’d let myself become. Since I moved to Hawthorne, I haven’t even tried to make friends. Not with people, anyway. Just dogs.”

  “Why not?” He opened the door and gestured for her to precede him into the house, then shut it after Watson came inside.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t think I deserved to be happy after Coffee—”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do. I just needed time to get my head on straight.” She crossed the kitchen and eased onto one of the bar stools. “What’s your schedule like today?”

  He checked his watch. “I’m due at the estate in fifty minutes to finalize plans for Maureen’s service and burial. That gives me just enough time to take a quick shower and scramble some eggs before I take off.”

  “You shower. I’ll scramble. I’m not helpless, and the painkillers seem to be doing their job right now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “No offense, but you look like crap. You must be exhausted, going all night without sleep.”

  “I’m hoping the shower will revive me.”

  With heavy steps, Eli climbed the stairs and entered his bathroom. After peering at himself in the mirror, he had to agree with Jaimee’s assessment. His eyes were bloodshot, and he needed to shave. With a shrug, he turned on the shower, peeled off his clothes, and stepped under the soothing hot spray. Minutes later, he finally worked up the energy to soap down and wash his hair. Feeling distinctly cleaner and slightly more alert, he turned off the water and gave his head a hard shake, sending droplets flying. Standing at the sink with a towel wrapped around his waist, he was shaving when Jaimee shouted something from downstairs.

  Tossing the razor on the counter, he sprinted out of the room. “Are you okay?” he called as he hit the stairs running.

  She stood at the bottom of the staircase, regarding him with lifted brows as he stopped on the landing halfway down. “I’m fine. Breakfast is ready.”

  Eli gripped the railing. “Jesus, I thought you’d hurt yourself.”

  “No. Nice outfit.”

  He glanced down to make sure the towel was still intact. “I was shaving.”

  “So I see. I’ll keep your eggs warm until you finish.”

  “Thanks.”

  As he turned to go, her voice followed him. “I like the look, Eli. Very hot.”

  His body responded to her teasing in a predictable fashion. He paused with his foot hovering over the tread on the next step, tempted to make her pay for that comment. He closed his eyes for a moment and resisted the urge. Jaimee was definitely not at her best. He could wait to do something about the attraction simmering between them until she felt a whole lot better.

  Besides, despite his need to help her, he still hadn’t forgiven her for prying into his background. Trust had to be a two-way street. Returning to the still steamy bathroom, he finished shaving, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then hurried down to the kitchen.

  Jaimee smiled when he entered the room. “Ready for action?”

  “I don’t know if I’m up to dodging bullets, but I intend to search Maureen’s car for that safe deposit box key.” He bent to pet Watson’s head when the dog plopped down next to his feet and stared at the two plates Jaimee set on the counter. “That looks good.”

  “Eggs and bagels. Not exactly gourmet fare, but you won’t leave the house hungry.”

  “That’s all I care about at the moment. Thanks for cooking.”

  “I need to do something to earn my keep.” She took the seat next to him and picked up her fork, then set it down again as she turned to face him. Her gray eyes were filled with shadows. “I want to sincerely apologize for failing to believe in you one hundred percent from the start. You’ve been amazing through this whole situation.”

  “I accept your apology, but I don’t want your gratitude. If I have your trust now, I’m ready to wipe the slate clean and move forward.”

  “You do.”

  “Good.” He took a bite of his bagel and chewed. “Make yourself at home while I’m gone. Take a shower or whatever. Can you get your stitches wet?”

  “Yes. I—damn!”

  He stared at her over a forkful of eggs. “What?”

  “My bag of clothes is in my car. And my car is still in the woods where I left it about a mile north of my cabin.”

  “Give me your key, and I’ll stop by to pick up your clothes after I finish at the estate. We can worry about retrieving your 4Runner later.”

  “The lowlife creep who shot me might be waiting in the vicinity. I’m sure he’s found my car by now.”

  “Give me specific directions, and I’ll do a little reconnaissance before I go in to grab the bag. I promise to be careful.”

  “I don’t know, Eli. I hate to put you in any danger.”

  “Honestly, given the opportunity, I’d be tempted to shoot the bastard. My grandpa had a shotgun he used for duck hunting that is probably somewh
ere in the house. Maybe I’ll take it with me when I leave.”

  “That’s actually a good idea.” She straightened on her stool and winced. “If you can get out of the house without anyone noticing, bring the gun and some shells back here with you. I don’t want you to arouse any suspicion.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m not being watched.” He glanced at the clock on the stove. “Crap. I need to take off.” After shoveling a few more bites of egg in his mouth, he picked up the second half of his bagel and slid off the stool. “I’ll finish eating in the car.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more proactive than taking Watson out to pee.” Her voice rang with frustration. “I hate feeling so helpless.”

  “Cut yourself some slack.” He cupped her chin in his hand before bending to drop a quick kiss on her lips. “You’re freaking amazing. I’ll see you later.”

  Her extremely kissable mouth worked for a moment. “Okay.”

  Grinning, Eli stepped around Watson and headed toward the garage. He’d definitely caught her by surprise. Score one for him.

  As he drove away a minute later, his amusement faded. He wasn’t looking forward to mingling with his relatives, one of whom was probably responsible for Maureen’s death. As often as he’d tried to imagine which family member was so twisted and filled with hate, he couldn’t.

  Instead, he turned his thoughts to something far more pleasant. Kissing Jaimee. A real kiss, not the quick peck on the lips he’d given her earlier. As tempted as he was to hold onto his anger at her, he’d never been one to hold a grudge. Especially since she seemed genuinely remorseful.

  Maybe because she still needs you.

  Eli ignored the cynical thought, ready to give her the benefit of the doubt. And not just because he got a boner every time he imagined touching her. She wasn’t immune to him, either, even though she’d shut him down the first time he’d kissed her. As far as he was concerned, it was only a matter of time before they wound up in bed together.

  Turning through the open gates of the estate effectively cooled his libido. He parked behind Doyle’s Porsche, got out, and slammed the door. Based on the collection of vehicles in the driveway, most of his relatives had arrived before him or had spent the night. When an engine sounded behind him, he looked over his shoulder just as the local sheriff’s SUV cruised up the driveway.

 

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