A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  With a sigh, Natalie refocused on the iPad screen. The tiny letters now appeared blessedly bigger. As she scanned the names, she blinked stupidly. “I-I don’t know what to say. Amelia? Georgia? You can’t think they’d hurt me.”

  “It’s just a list. Sometimes it’s not the name on the list that’s important, but who they might tell, accidentally or otherwise.” They were touching from shoulder to foot, but Adele somehow found a way to scoot a little closer.

  “But, no,” Adele shook her head resolutely. “Of course I don’t think they had anything to do with it. Besides, they’re off the list because they’re female. I know what you told the police, but you’re sure your attacker was male?”

  “Very. He had a man’s voice, and he was way too strong to be a woman.”

  Adele hummed to herself. “Kurt Mosley is an obvious suspect. As Misty’s boyfriend, he might have known about the phone all along.”

  Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think he could have held me down. I think I would have noticed if the man who attacked me was rail-thin.”

  Adele nodded. “Plus how would Kurt have found you at the inn? You didn’t tell him where you were staying, right?”

  “I…oh, no.” Natalie’s hands shaped fists. “Oh, my gosh. He could have found me through you. I told him your name.” She felt like a fool. “While you were inside looking around Misty’s house, he asked, and I panicked. I didn’t think it mattered, or that I, or we, were hiding.”

  “It’s okay. We weren’t hiding. But let’s leave him on the list for now. Wiry men can still be deceptively strong. And when you’re scared, whatever is scaring you can seem bigger than it really is.”

  Natalie was doubtful, but it was Adele’s list. “Okay.”

  The next name made Natalie laugh out loud. “Ross? The contractor at the inn? He’s ancient. There is no way he could have fought like that.”

  “Okay,” Natalie allowed grudgingly. She pressed a couple keys and lined through his name. “But what about one of his men? He had a crew of at least three strong, young guys at the house all this week.”

  Natalie nodded unhappily. “I never spoke to any of them. But, fine. They stay.”

  “Next are the officers who responded to the call to Misty’s house.”

  They discussed the two men for a moment, keeping one name, but eliminating one due to size. Natalie’s attacker was bigger and taller than she was, but not by a hundred pounds and eight inches.

  “Why would the police be involved in this at all?” Natalie asked, fighting off a shiver not only from thoughts of the attack, but also from her hospital room that was perpetually kept as cool as a meat locker. And Adele’s warm body felt so good that Natalie wanted to burrow underneath her friend’s skin and take up residence there.

  “I dunno, but I don’t think we can exclude them just because they’re cops.”

  Now that Natalie thought of it, she wondered whether them being cops, considering the corruption in the NOPD that seemed so endemic, made them prime candidates on the list. But as angry as Adele was at her former colleagues, Natalie knew in Adele’s heart she didn’t want to believe the worst.

  The next name was another Natalie hadn’t expected. Sgt. Jay Morrell. The rat who was first on the scene to Josh’s murder and who had beaten Crisco within an inch of his life and set off the firestorm that ended Adele’s career. If Natalie could run him down with her car and not go to prison for it, she wasn’t sure he’d see another day. “What connects him to Misty now? Misty said she left the Dixie Brewery right after Josh’s…right after it happened. I don’t think she saw Morrell, and if he’d seen her, surely she would have been arrested.”

  “I don’t know the connection. As much as I’d like to pin Josh’s murder on him, Morrell didn’t do it. I was able to confirm that he and his dumbass rookie partner, Billy Hobson, were still across town at the time of Josh’s death. Apparently, they stopped for gas on the way to the diner where they were headed when they got dispatched to the brewery. During the PIB investigations, Morrell was able to produce a receipt proving where he was and when.”

  “Wow. The police actually shared this information with you?”

  Adele snorted and turned just enough to rub her nose against Natalie’s cool cheek. Even with the grim subject matter, Adele seemed to be relaxing a tiny bit more with each passing minute, which had been one of the reasons Natalie had coaxed her into bed in the first place. “Hardly. Al dug it up for me. I’ve been thinking of Morrell ever since I realized Misty’s house was in his stomping ground…the Tremé.”

  A kiss was added to the mix and caused Natalie’s lips to curl.

  “Because Morrell works the Tremé, he could have easily spotted you when you were at the station giving your statement about Misty. Or he could have spoken to the cops from the crime scene. Word travels like wildfire within the PD. If Morrell found out about you, and he’s still in touch with Hobson, he could have told him, too.”

  Natalie rubbed at the creases her scowl was making in her forehead. Their net was cast too wide to be useful. “Using that logic, every male police officer in the NOPD who isn’t a giant or a midget is a suspect.”

  Dejectedly, Adele clicked off her iPad. “I know.”

  There was one name that Natalie hadn’t seen on the list, and it made her uneasy to bring him up, but… “If we’re including everyone, why isn’t Al’s name on the list?” She kept her voice more curious than accusing. “He saw me at the inn my first day back in town.”

  “He didn’t do it,” Adele said dully, glancing at the dark iPad screen.

  “Okay. I trust you, and if you trust him, I do too.”

  “I don’t trust anybody,” Adele growled suddenly. “Not when it comes to your safety. I didn’t put him on the list because I ruled him out before I even made the list. I had a feeling…my gut told me your attack wasn’t random. The night after your attack, I called Al’s house.”

  “But if he was involved, you couldn’t think he would just confess because you called him.”

  “I didn’t call him. I called his home phone and his wife, Latisha, picked up. She’s who I was after. We spoke for a minute or two, and she confirmed that Al had been home that entire evening. Then she figured out there couldn’t really be a positive reason that I was trying to pin down Al’s whereabouts, all without talking to him, and she hung up on me.” Adele’s exhausted frown made her look years older. “Not that I blame her.”

  “Oh, Ella.” Natalie tried to wrap her head around what that single call had likely cost Adele. It was enough to make her queasy. How many more relationships would Adele have to lose? Natalie vowed to reach out to Al on her own. Maybe she could smooth things over. “I’m sorry.” Her already hoarse voice broke.

  “Hey, remember what you told me?” Warm brown eyes were suddenly fierce and protective. “Don’t make this about you when it isn’t. I decided how to handle it, and I’m not sorry. I didn’t set out to burn that bridge, but I had to be sure. And now I am.”

  Just then, a nurse walked into the room. She stared at Adele and Natalie, who were sitting side by side in bed, but she managed not to comment. “I’m here to check your IV, Ms. Abbott. I hear you’re going to be discharged in the morning.”

  With a groan from the movement, Adele flung off the covers and moved off the bed to pick up her phone. “We’ll be ready.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adele slowly pushed Natalie’s wheelchair toward the elevator, using it to steady herself as they made their way out of the hospital ward. She backed them into the elevator with great care, but instead of pushing the button for the ground floor, where patients normally stopped to leave the hospital, Adele selected the lower level that held the hospital’s kitchens, laundry, storage facilities, laboratories and pharmacy.

  Wearing a comfortable pair of full-length yoga pants and a thin velvety-soft sweater, courtesy of Amelia, Natalie clutched Adele’s duffel bag to her belly. She tried to look over her shoulder at the former detecti
ve. “I already have my prescriptions. I thought we were leav—”

  Two men entered the elevator at the ground floor and began the ride with them to the lower level.

  “Shh…” Adele breathed discreetly. “We are.”

  Adele assessed the men carefully, more confident due to the weapon she had tucked into the back of her pants and hidden beneath her windbreaker. The gun was too large to carry comfortably this way for long, but it was all Adele had for now. She leaned close to Natalie’s ear and whispered. “You’ll see.”

  They exited the elevator as a small group.

  The men walked ahead of them until they reached the pharmacy where they stepped inside and went about their business. Adele and Natalie continued past them and down a long corridor that began to slope uphill. Body on high alert, Adele ducked them into a deep doorway and waited, hand on gun, in case the men were intentionally following them.

  They weren’t.

  As the women moved farther down the corridor the number of nonhospital staff dwindled to nothing. They were stopped several times by nurses asking if they needed help finding the pharmacy, but Adele assured the helpful strangers that she was merely stretching her legs. After all, the area wasn’t technically restricted to staff.

  Finally, Adele wheeled Natalie into a bustling kitchen where a middle-aged man with a severely receding hairline and a beer belly that made him appear pregnant intercepted them almost immediately. “You’re later than I expected,” he said casually as he motioned for Adele to follow him.

  Adele maneuvered Natalie around an enormous vat of what smelled like applesauce. “You know how it is with bullshit hospital paperwork.”

  The man grunted his agreement.

  Natalie listened to the bewildering conversation with wide eyes.

  He led them through the kitchens and out to an open delivery bay where a white bakery truck was already backed into the dock. “Leave the wheelchair here and I’ll take it back upstairs after you’re gone.” He disappeared back inside.

  The sun seemed overly bright after several days inside and Adele and Natalie both squinted. “Okay,” Adele said, glancing around. “This is where we leave.”

  Puzzled, Natalie looked for a car.

  “No, this is our ride.” Adele gestured toward the truck. “And we should get inside quickly.”

  She helped Natalie to her feet, noting enviously that even after everything that had happened, Natalie actually had better mobility than she did. Insecurity nagged at the back of Adele’s mind. How long would Natalie want to be limited by what Adele could or couldn’t do? Maybe once all of this was over, she’d visit the rehab center again or talk to her doctor about possible surgeries. It couldn’t hurt to consider it, even though it probably wouldn’t help, right?

  A trim man somewhere in his early thirties with a thick shock of straw-colored hair and wearing worn jeans, a black faded T-shirt, work boots and a New Orleans Saints baseball hat, climbed out of the truck. “Do you ladies need any help getting in?”

  Adele breezed by him without a second glance. “We’re good.” She helped Natalie into the truck through the rear bay doors. “Careful.” The cargo area was empty, except for a few wooden crates that had been covered with heavy wool blankets and would serve as their seats.

  The man shut the doors behind them, then climbed into the driver’s side door and made his way between the front seats and into the cargo area, wearing a big smile. He stopped in front of Adele and lifted an eyebrow. “Well?”

  “It’ll do,” Adele said in an unimpressed voice, then grinned broadly and allowed herself to be hoisted into a full body bear hug that lifted her off her feet and felt almost as good as it did bad. “Uff! Careful. I’m still sore!” Adele’s smile belied her words and she was lowered carefully until her feet touched the ground. “This is perfect. And you look just right. Though I’m not sure I recognize you without the Armani suit you were born in.”

  Natalie narrowed her eyes at their embrace.

  “Natalie,” Adele laughed a little as the man finally released her, but slung an arm over her shoulder. She hadn’t missed Natalie’s sudden pique. “This is my brother Jackson.”

  Natalie’s face immediately brightened. “Oh, my gosh. It’s great to meet you.” She self-consciously smoothed her hair, clearly a little embarrassed by her appearance.

  Jackson gently shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Amelia and my girls have told me all about you. All great things, I might add, including that you helped Ella try to find a winning Christmas tree this year. I love it when anyone at least tries to beat Amelia at anything.” He winked good-naturedly. “Too bad it’s so rarely successful.”

  “Your daughters are darling and so smart. They helped make the day even more fun.”

  Jackson flashed Natalie a brilliant smile, then he turned and guided Adele a few steps away, their backs to Natalie. He lowered his voice to a whisper, but it still came out as an angry growl. “You’re going to get the animal, son-of-a-bitch who did that to her, right?”

  Adele’s gaze drifted back to Natalie and she did her best not to frown. They’d been together constantly, and she’d almost forgotten how bad Natalie would look to someone with fresh eyes. Adele was so grateful that Natalie was still among the living that everything else, while important, was secondary.

  Natalie still had visible ligature marks around her neck, along with a lurid bruise in the shape of a hand. One of her eyes was pink. The tiny cuts that marred her normally smooth skin had scabbed over and her black eye had gone from deep red to a spectacular purple-yellow mix. All of these things, as bad as they were, were substantially better than a few days ago.

  Adele’s eyes glinted terrifyingly. “Oh, I’m going to find him, Jackson. Don’t you doubt that.”

  Brother and sister shared a nod of understanding. While it was true that Adele had always been closer to Amelia than Jackson, that didn’t mean they didn’t have each other’s backs. Family was family.

  “I have another bag of goodies in the back to supplement what Amelia gave you,” Jackson said. “Keys to your new place are in the side pocket. But I still don’t know why you can’t stay at my house.”

  “With your girls there, Jackson? C’mon.” Adele patted his chest. “This is safest for us all.”

  Reluctantly conceding Adele’s point, he moved back to the driver’s seat and started the truck. “We’d better get going.”

  Adele sat down next to Natalie, who was unusually quiet. “Are you okay, Nancy goddamned Drew?”

  Natalie laughed silently. “Just tired. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. And my head hurts.”

  Adele opened her mouth to speak, but Natalie pressed her fingertips against Adele’s lips. “It’s just a headache. Nothing more.”

  Adele reluctantly nodded. “If you’re sure.”

  “Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?”

  The truck began to move.

  “Yes, and I’m sorry about the cloak-and-dagger stuff. I don’t want us to go back to the inn. Whoever hurt you could come back, or track us and try again later. The inn is too big for two people and there are multiple entrances and first-floor windows. There’s no good way for us to keep it secure if someone really wants inside. We’re going to a safe house that Georgia and Amelia arranged and rented under a fake name.”

  “And you didn’t tell me we were going to escape from the hospital like Bonnie and Clyde because…?”

  “Loose lips sink ships?”

  Natalie pinched her. Hard.

  “Ouch. Shit. Okay, okay.” She chuckled and swatted away the still-attacking hand. “We just finalized this all this morning while you were getting your endless aftercare medical instructions. And I figured the less you knew, the less you’d have to worry about.”

  “Don’t make a habit of that, okay?” Natalie received an immediate, sheepish nod in reply. “How did you do all this?” She gestured to the empty vehicle. “The truck, the man in the kitchen, a safe house?
All in a few days?”

  “Georgia is a master planner. If she were on the president’s cabinet…well, actually, Georgia should just be president. When Amelia talks, people listen.” Adele broke into a lazy, crooked grin. “Plus, she bribes the hell out of them.”

  Less than ten minutes later, the truck pulled behind a smallish—for the neighborhood—but gorgeous, white Greek Revival-style home in the Garden District and stopped in front of its carriage house. Jackson helped Natalie and Adele out onto the stone driveway. He leaned close to Adele. “You’ll call if you need anything, and be careful?” He glared pointedly at the thick bandage near her wrist.

  She nodded and leaned onto tiptoes to kiss his cheek, using one hand on his shoulder for balance. “Smooch my gorgeous nieces for me and remind them which aunt is the best?”

  “Duh.”

  “Then, yes.”

  Jackson left the women staring at the carriage house. Its upstairs had been converted into a large apartment. Adele examined their surroundings closely, impressed. The yard was fenced, and there was enough shrubbery for privacy but not so much that someone could be lurking in every shadow.

  “Does it meet your requirements, Your Highness?” Natalie sassed, taking one of the bags from Adele and ignoring her protests. “Before you say anything, our temporary hideout looks better than my actual townhouse.”

  “Well, let’s see. The owners of the main house are gone to Hawaii for the winter, so that’s privacy.” She made a check mark in the air. “Second floor, quiet street, one point of entry only.” Three more checks. “There was only one more thing on my list, and we won’t know if we got that until we get inside. Now we just have to brave those stairs.” The last few days were catching up to Adele quickly, and the thought of hiking up the stairs made her whimper out loud.

  “Wait,” Natalie reached out and tugged on Adele’s jacket. “Who is already here? Amelia or Georgia?” A new white Ford Fiesta sat in the driveway.

  “Nah. That’s ours. I’m amazed Amelia stuck to the plan and got something inconspicuous. I had to talk her out of both a Hummer and a Land Rover. Now, c’mon. You go ahead of me. I’m seriously ready to drop, and I don’t want to take you with me if I do.”