Loving Again: Book 2 in the Second Chance series (Crimson Romance)

by Bird, Peggy

  “Which one are we going to take with us?” Matthews asked, waving the gun at Sam and Amanda. “We need insurance.”

  “No hostages,” Vos said. “It looks too suspicious leaving the house that way.” Before Matthews could object he said, “We take them upstairs, restrain them some way and then we leave one at a time. You take the money; I’ll take the other bags. We meet at the rendezvous spot in an hour and then take off from there.”

  It was apparent that Matthews didn’t agree but he gave in reluctantly, handed the bag with the money in it to Amanda, stuck his gun in her back and pushed her up the stairs. Vos followed with Sam carrying the bags of drugs, Vos’s gun against his side.

  When they got to the kitchen, Vos rummaged through drawers looking for something to use to restrain the two hostages. He found a plastic tie with which he secured one of Amanda’s arms to a bar stool while he kept looking. Finally he found a small roll of duct tape.

  “Here,” he said to Matthews. “This will do for a start. Get Richardson taped to a chair and then look for something more secure for Amanda. I’ll leave now; you get them tied up and leave in fifteen minutes.”

  “What’s the damn hurry?” Matthews said. “Help me with this.” He had pulled out a length of duct tape but was having trouble keeping it from sticking to itself.

  “The hurry is the business I have to take care of before we leave. Take care of this yourself.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you take care of it before you came here?” Matthews asked.

  “You dragged me away from home saying it was an emergency. So you get what you get. Shut up and take care of them.” And he left.

  When Amanda heard the door slam behind Vos, she shivered. He may have been a bad guy but he had some regard for her. Matthews was another matter. She was sure both she and Sam were in more danger now than they’d been a minute ago. Who knew what his idea of taking care of them would be?

  As if to confirm her fears, Matthews grabbed her around the neck and pulled her against him. “So, cop, I have your girlfriend. You want her in one piece, find me some more tape or some rope.”

  “Leave her out of this, Matthews. She can’t go anyplace tied to that bar stool. Just deal with me and I’ll keep her from doing anything foolish.”

  “Yeah, you’re a real white hat, aren’t you? Do as I tell you or you’ll be the reason she gets hurt.”

  Sam took a step toward Matthews who tightened his hold on Amanda’s throat. Sam backed off, the expression on his face anguished. “Amanda, I … ”

  Amanda coughed to clear her airway before saying, “There’s more duct tape over there, Sam. Where the string is.” She hitched her chin toward the cabinet, hoping he remembered the evening he’d gone looking for string so she could tie up a roast. In the same cabinet he’d discovered miscellaneous strange travel souvenirs from her brother including a big, nasty Indonesian tribal knife and an Alaskan Ulu knife. Matthews started to follow Sam to the cabinet, giving Amanda the chance she wanted. She slid off the bar stool and took steps toward the back door, dragging the heavy seat with her.

  “Don’t move, bitch. I want you where I can see you,” Matthews pointed the gun first at Sam, then at Amanda, seeming to be nervous about watching both of them.

  “Chihuly’s barking again. I want to let him in. If I don’t he’ll be scratching at the door.”

  “Leave it. I don’t want a dog in here.”

  “But he’ll annoy the neighbors. And damage the door.”

  “I said, leave it.”

  “I can’t. I have to let the dog in.”

  As Amanda had hoped, the argument she’d incited forced Matthews to pay more attention to her than to what Sam was doing. She saw him palm the Ulu knife under the role of duct tape and approach Beal Matthews from behind.

  But he didn’t get to him fast enough. Matthews turned to see what he was doing before Sam could reach him. He might not have seen the Ulu knife but he surely saw the look on Sam’s face, which was anything but compliant. He raised the gun, aiming directly at him.

  Dropping the tape, Sam lunged at Matthews, catching his arm with the sharp blade of the knife. Matthews swore, knocked the weapon out of Sam’s hand and grabbed for him. As the two men wrestled for control of the gun, Amanda picked up the knife, cut the plastic tie, opened the door and let Chihuly in. He joined the melee in the kitchen, barking and nipping at Matthews.

  Amanda ran to the dining room for her phone. But before she could call nine-one-one, the sound of two gunshots came from the kitchen, followed by a loud thud and Chihuly yelping. Before she could yell for Sam, Matthews appeared in the doorway, bleeding from his arm and hands. He held the gun with a shaky grip.

  “You bitch. I got shot because of you.” He raised the gun, but before he could pull the trigger, Chihuly came from behind him and chomped on his hand. Matthews tried to shake off the dog. Amanda picked up the nearest thing heavy enough to do damage. She took two steps toward Matthews, swung and hit him right above the ear. The large glass plate she’d used broke; he crumbled. Cracking his head on the edge of the dining room table he fell to the floor, unconscious. Chihuly whimpered.

  She saw blood on his fur, realized that Matthews might not have been the only one shot. And she hadn’t heard Sam. “Oh, my God. Sam? Are you okay?”

  There was no answer. She ran to the kitchen. Sam was on the floor, bleeding from his left shoulder, his right arm at an odd angle. “Sam! Are you … ?”

  He got out, “Use that duct tape on Matthews. Danny … out front,” before he passed out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amanda couldn’t believe what a rapid and massive response an “officer down” call triggered. Within minutes of Danny’s call, the first patrol car was there, then an ambulance for Sam, more patrol cars and another ambulance. Danny had waylaid Drake Vos outside Amanda’s house as he left, handing him over to one of the uniformed officers before taking charge of getting the crime scene organized. Beal Matthews was loaded into the second ambulance.

  Happy to leave a familiar face to deal with her house, Amanda started out the door to follow the ambulance taking Sam to the ER. Danny took the car keys from her hand and put them on the dining room table. “Talk first. Hospital later. You shouldn’t drive right now and they won’t let you see Sam anyway. What the hell happened here?”

  Amanda took a deep breath and let out a barrage of words. “Beal Matthews came here to get the money from the safe Tommy put in my basement. Drake Vos came to help. After Drake found the safe, Chihuly barked and Matthews found Sam in the backyard. Sam cut Matthews with an Ulu knife. Sam got shot while I was looking for my phone. Matthews came to shoot me. Chihuly bit him. I hit Matthews with my glass … ”

  “Sorry I asked. Let’s go over that again. Why did you say Matthews was here?”

  Amanda dropped her eyes and made little coughing noises before answering. “Because I told him I knew where the safe was. That I’d give him money. I thought I could get him off my back, keep him away from Sam, if I paid him off. Then you would find him, arrest him, and everything would be okay.”

  “How the hell did you even know who he was? Unless … you did recognize him when I showed you his picture, didn’t you?”

  Another deep breath before the last confession came out in a whisper. “Yeah, I saw him at Bullseye the night of the murders. He threatened me and Sam if I talked to you. I knew he thought there was money here from Tommy’s drug business so when I got a second threat from him, I decided to bribe him.” She ran out of explanation and stopped talking, still not looking Danny in the eyes.

  Danny exploded. “What the fuck is wrong with you, woman? How many times have we talked — three, four times? And you didn’t tell me any of this? What kind of game are you playing?”

  “I’m not playing a game. I was scared he’d hurt Sam. Besides, it didn’t seem imp
ortant.” She knew she sounded as feeble as her excuse did.

  “You don’t get to decide what’s important and what’s not. We do. You tell us everything you know, we put it together with what we know and we figure out what happened. That’s how it works.”

  “Not always.”

  “I got the message. You had a bad experience last year. Props to you for getting through it.” Danny paced in front of Amanda, who was now sitting on the couch. “But that doesn’t give you a pass on this. What were you waiting for, another person to turn up dead?”

  Amanda shuddered. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want. I’m sorry, Danny, I should have … ”

  “Bullshit.”

  Amanda hung her head for a moment then looked directly at Danny. “I was stupid. If I’d been thinking clearly I wouldn’t have even been at Bullseye that night. But the phone call I got said Eubie was about to go public with his accusations. I went to meet him. That’s when I saw Matthews. He came out into the delivery area, outside the classroom. I could see him in the security light.”

  She rummaged around in her pocket, found a tissue, and blew her nose. “The next morning, I found the studio wrecked and an envelope with letters in it. From him. I have them here. I can get them … ”

  Danny didn’t seem to be listening. “You lied about being at Bullseye. When we caught you at it, you still didn’t tell us the whole story. You lied about what you saw there. Then you tried to bribe a killer to … ” She stopped. “Wait. Rewind. You decided to bribe him because he threatened Sam?” She stared at Amanda. “Oh, shit, you pushed Sam away because you thought that would protect him, didn’t you? I can’t believe it.”

  Amanda closed her eyes. “Last year, because of me, he was suspended for months. He could have lost his whole career. And it was happening again. Only this time it was more than his career, it was his life. I wasn’t going to put him in danger. Not after everything he’d done for me.” She opened her eyes. Danny was staring at her in disbelief.

  “Did you tell him?” Danny shook her head. “What am I saying? Of course you didn’t. Jesus, did you really think you could bribe Matthews?”

  “I thought all he wanted was money. And I had money. It’s never been an issue with me.”

  “Aren’t you lucky?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ve always had some measure of security because I had a trust income to fall back on. This time having it didn’t help me.” She looked up at Danny. “Are we finished here? Can I go now?”

  “No, we’re not finished. I have a feeling we won’t be finished for days. But we can go to the hospital. I’ll drive and we’ll talk more on the way.”

  • • •

  When they got to the hospital, Sam was in surgery. The ER nurse directed them to a waiting room where, she said, the doctor would come out when the surgery was over. Margo Keyes and Lt. Angel were already there, standing in a corner talking quietly.

  “What are you doing here, Margo?” Amanda asked.

  “Someone from the DA’s office always comes out to something like this. I was up in the rotation,” she said.

  “Do you know how Sam is?”

  Lt. Angel answered Amanda’s question. “ER doc said he had an entry wound in the front of his shoulder, no exit wound. Broken arm. Fair amount of bleeding. They have him in surgery now getting the bullet out, the bleeders tied off, and his arm taken care of. He was semi-conscious when they admitted him.”

  “What about Matthews?” Danny asked.

  “Bullet grazed his arm. He had cuts on his hands and arms and a dog bite. He was treated and released into custody. Oh, and he has quite a goose egg on his head. I understand he has you to thank for that, Ms. St. Claire. Nice hit. We’ll be watching him for a concussion in the jail.”

  “And Drake Vos?” Amanda asked, ignoring the compliment.

  “He’s not talking much. But I think he will. What little he’s said is to distance himself from the murders. He says Matthews was convinced you’d killed Tom Webster and he was trying to get his revenge for your ‘getting away with it’ by setting it up to look like you’d killed Eubie Kane.” He looked at his cell phone. “Third call from the press. Better go and deal with this. Keep me posted, Danny.”

  The wait for the doctors seemed endless but eventually two of them came into the waiting room. “Is one of you Detective Richardson’s partner?” the first one said.

  The women looked at each other. “If you mean his professional partner, I am,” Danny replied.

  “We’re authorized to tell you and a woman named Amanda St. Claire what happened to Detective Richardson.”

  “That’s me,” Amanda said. “And this is Deputy District Attorney Margo Keyes.”

  He looked at the identification Margo pulled out of her purse. “Okay, then, I guess it’s all three of you. There’s mostly good news. By some miracle, the bullet missed every major organ and artery in Detective Richardson’s chest. It nicked his subclavian vein and maybe was diverted by his clavicle. We got the bullet out and I think we got all the bleeders but we’ll be keeping a close eye on him to make sure.” He looked from one woman to the other. “Any questions?”

  “How long will he be in the hospital?” Amanda asked. “And can we see him?”

  “We’ll put him in ICU overnight to observe him for concussion and then see how he recovers from the surgery. His arm will be in a cast for about six weeks and he’ll need physical therapy to make sure he has a full range of motion in his shoulder. You can see him when he gets to ICU. Why don’t you wait here and you can go with him when they transfer him.”

  Knowing that Sam wouldn’t want his sons to hear what happened from a television newscast, Amanda called his former wife to alert her. By the time she was off the phone, Danny had left to go back downtown to talk to Drake Vos and begin her reports.

  After a few hours, Sam was deemed stable enough to go to ICU and Amanda and Margo accompanied him there. They didn’t stay long. Sam had been sedated but the nurse assured Amanda that by the next day he’d be alert and able to talk to her. She suggested Amanda go home and get some sleep.

  Yeah, like that was gonna happen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amanda heard the doorbell ring the next morning but didn’t bother getting out of bed. It was probably someone going door-to-door selling religion. Or lawn care. The only person she wanted to see at her front door was in the hospital attached to a million machines.

  Then Margo Keyes knocked on her bedroom door. “Amanda, are you awake? Danny Hartmann’s here. She has a message from Sam.”

  Amanda was downstairs in seconds. “Sam called you? How is he? What did he say?”

  “He called me when he couldn’t get you. How come you aren’t answering your phones?”

  Margo raised her hand. “My fault. Since Amanda didn’t have a car at the hospital last night, I drove her home. When I got her here she said she didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed. Unplugged her landline phones and turned off her cell. Figured there might be press calling and I didn’t want her disturbed.”

  “How is he?” Amanda asked again.

  “He sounded amazingly good. In fact, he was calling with a list of things he wants because he doesn’t like what he has in the hospital. I thought maybe you could take them to him, Amanda, as soon as we collect them.”

  “What’s he want?” Amanda asked.

  “A pajama top, an electric razor and a cell phone. I picked up a cell phone.”

  “My brother left an electric razor the last time he was here,” Amanda said.

  “And, don’t ask why, but I have a man’s pajama top that should fit Sam,” Margo said. “I’ll go get it now while you shower and get something to eat, Amanda.”

  Ninety minutes later, after a hot shower and a breakfast Danny insisted she try to eat, Amanda was at the hospital. She’
d had a nervous drive there trying to convince herself Sam would be happy to see her when she wasn’t at all sure he would. After all, she was the reason he was in the hospital. He’d been mad about her not telling him what she knew and he didn’t know the half of what she’d been keeping from him.

  Clutching a plastic bag containing what she’d brought for him, she stopped inside the door of the room and watched him, she wasn’t sure for what. Maybe some kind of welcoming sign. But he seemed to be asleep. His eyes were closed, his head half turned away from her. The monitors attached to him were quietly beeping and booping — indicating, apparently, that his heart and whatever else they were monitoring were working correctly because, in spite of the beeps and boops, no one was running to the room with a crash cart.

  The edge of the dressing over his surgical incision was visible at the neckline of his hospital gown. His right arm was in a cast. The IV hooked up to his left arm was dripping clear fluids into him, not blood like yesterday. An oxygen cannula was pulled down around his neck. His color was normal and he looked almost rested.

  “Hey, baby,” Sam interrupted her contemplation of the scene. He opened his eyes, turned toward her and put out his hand. “You gonna just stand there or you gonna come over here? I’d come to you but I’m kinda tied up here.”

  Stumbling over a chair in her haste to get to his bedside, she dropped the bag as she struggled to regain her balance. When she reached him, she took the hand he held out, blinking back the tears she could feel about to fall. She leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, hoping he wouldn’t see how shiny her eyes must be. “How did you know I was here?”

  He awkwardly pulled her to him with his casted arm and kissed her on the mouth, held her and kissed her a second time before answering. “It’s the way you smell. Like cupcakes, or maybe flowers. Or a flowery cupcake. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I could pick you out of a crowd blindfolded.” He patted a space on the bed beside him.

  She climbed up, not letting go of him when she settled there. “You look so much better. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”