PALADIN'S WOMAN

by Beverly Barton

  Nick led her back inside the waiting area, sitting down beside her on a vinyl sofa and pulling her into his arms. She rested there, reassured by his comforting strength.

  * * *

  Nick stood inside the ICU cubicle where Jim Hester had just regained consciousness. Ned Johnson, an RN at his side, leaned over Hester's bed and spoke his name.

  "Mr. Hester, I'm Ned Johnson. I'm with the FBI. I need to ask you a few questions."

  Jim tried to speak, but his voice broke in an awkward squeak when he said Addy's name. He looked up at Agent Johnson pleadingly.

  "Ms. McConnell is fine. She's waiting outside, very concerned and eager to see you."

  "Alton?" Jim Hester's voice was only a choked whisper.

  "He didn't make it," Johnson said. "But the doctors say you're going to be all right. What we need to know in order to find the man who did this to you and kidnapped D.B. McConnell is if you can identify the assailant."

  "Mask," Jim gasped. "He wore a mask."

  The stocky nurse nudged Ned Johnson out of the way and checked her patient's oxygen supply. Turning back to the FBI agent, she said, "Only a few more questions."

  Nick moved to the foot of the bed. Seeing Nick, Jim reached out. His hand, strapped with an IV needle, trembled. "Romero."

  "Good to see you alive, Hester. Addy's been worried sick about you."

  "We didn't know … what … hit us," Jim said in a weak, quivering voice. "We drove into the parking lot." He stopped talking, giving himself a much-needed respite. "Before we … knew … what was happening, he opened fire. Shot Alton first … then me. I was on the pavement … couldn't—couldn't get to Rusty."

  "I'm afraid that's all," the nurse said. "You'll both have to leave now."

  "Just one more question." Ignoring the protective RN, Nick walked around to the side of the bed, reaching down to take Jim Hester's hand. "Can you tell us anything about the man who attacked you, anything that might help us?"

  "Mask and hat." Jim squeezed Nick's hand with what little strength he could muster. "Didn't see his face … or hair. Tall. Well-built. I'd say fairly young … by the way he moved."

  "Was he driving or on foot? Did you see any kind of vehicle?" Ned Johnson asked.

  "That's two questions," the nurse scolded.

  "Didn't see a car. Sorry," Jim said.

  Nick gave Jim's hand a strong, reassuring squeeze. "Thanks, Jim. You get some rest, and I'll bring Addy in to see you later."

  Nick hated hospitals with a passion, especially ICU units. They were an all-too-vivid reminder of his own close call with death, of the endless days and nights he'd lain, helpless and alone. His only link with life had been the pain, which he'd used to push him forward into each new day.

  He'd never be the same man he was before Ian Ryker had gunned him down with an Uzi. The doctors had told him that he was lucky to be alive, and he knew they were right. But he'd lost a lot, the proper use of his leg, his job as a DEA agent, his ability to carry his woman in his arms.

  Outside the ICU, Ned Johnson gripped Nick's shoulder. "Not much to go on, is it? Whoever we're dealing with isn't taking any chances."

  "He's cunning and shrewd, all right, but my bet is he isn't completely sane. He's kidnapped Rusty McConnell and is demanding that Addy withdraw the bid on the NASP contract. Obviously, he hasn't done his homework or he'd know that Addy doesn't have the authority to withdraw that bid."

  "He's making mistakes then, isn't he?"

  "Let's just hope he makes enough for us to catch him before somebody else gets hurt."

  * * *

  "Ms. Addy McConnell?" A plump, middle-aged woman in a bright-orange sweat suit held the waiting-room phone in her hand.

  Standing, Addy replied. "I'm Addy McConnell."

  "Telephone call for you."

  Addy took the phone from the woman's meaty little hand. "Hello."

  "Ms. McConnell?" The man's voice was muffled, sounding similar to the caller who'd threatened her at the day-care center over two weeks ago.

  "Yes." Addy's heart seemed lodged in her throat. Her ears throbbed with pressure.

  "I know who kidnapped your father."

  "Who is this? What do you want?"

  Janice rushed to Addy's side, pulling on her arm. "What's wrong? Should I get Agent Sturges?"

  Addy glanced out in the hallway where the FBI agent guarding her waited patiently by the door. With a shake of her head, Addy placed her index finger over Janice's mouth.

  "I can help you find your father," the caller said. Addy knew this was the same voice, the same man who'd threatened her before. "Do you have him? Is he all right?"

  "I know where he is, and I'll tell you if you'll meet me."

  "Meet you?"

  Janice grabbed Addy's wrist, shaking her head and silently mouthing the word no. Addy jerked away from her cousin.

  "If you'll come to the coffee shop right now, I'll meet you there and tell you who kidnapped your father and where you can find him."

  "How do I know I can trust you?"

  "I'm your only chance of keeping your father alive. They're going to kill him. It's up to you whether he lives or dies."

  Addy swallowed, wishing she could calm the erratic, deafening rhythm of her heart. Clutching the phone, she breathed deeply. "I—I have an FBI agent guarding me. He'll never let me leave the floor without him."

  "If you ever want to see your father alive again, you'll find a way. If anyone, and I mean anyone, comes with you, then Rusty McConnell is a dead man."

  "How—how will I recognize you?"

  "I'll be wearing a Huntsville Stars T-shirt and cap. I'll wait ten minutes."

  The dial tone hummed in Addy's ear. "No! Wait—"

  Janice whirled Addy around to face her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "What the hell was that all about?"

  Addy led Janice to the far side of the room, away from the curious stares of other ICU patients' family members. "The man on the phone says that he knows who kidnapped Daddy and he knows where Daddy is."

  "You've got to tell the FBI and Nick," Janice said.

  "I can't do that. He wants me to meet him in the coffee shop. Right now. If anyone comes with me, they'll kill Daddy."

  "He's bluffing. If he's in the coffee shop, he can't kill Uncle Rusty."

  "He may not be the kidnapper. I think he may just be working for them."

  "It isn't safe for you to go down there and meet him alone. He could do anything. He could shoot you right there in the coffee shop." Janice nodded toward the open door. "Besides, Agent Sturges isn't going to let you go anywhere without him. If he did, Nick would kill him."

  Addy's instincts warned her that Janice was right. It wasn't safe for her to meet this telephone caller, but if there was even the slightest chance that he was on the level, that he could lead them to Rusty, she had to take the chance, didn't she? If her actions meant the difference between saving her father's life and his death, then she had no choice.

  "You can help me," Addy said. "I want you to distract Agent Sturges long enough for me to get to the elevators."

  "No, Addy, I won't do it. I don't want anything to happen to you."

  Addy took her cousin's face in her hands. Forcing a smile, she tried to sound reassuring. "Look, I won't take any unnecessary chances. The coffee shop will be full of people. And, if I'm not back in a few minutes, then you can tell Agent Sturges where I went. Okay?"

  "Addy, are you sure?"

  "No, I'm not sure, but I do know that this may be our only chance to save Daddy."

  Addy watched while Janice sauntered over to the FBI agent. No man could resist her cousin's feminine charms. The woman was lethal. Within minutes, Janice had maneuvered Alan Sturges inside the waiting area and over to the coffee table, set up and replenished by hospital volunteers for the convenience of the ICU visitors. While Janice poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Sturges, Addy slipped into the hallway. Taking one last glance backward, she saw that Janice had her arm laced through the
agent's and was smiling up at him, her hip resting seductively against his thigh.

  Addy punched the elevator down button. While waiting, she kept checking to make sure no one was aware of her escape. The elevator doors swung open. Three people disembarked. Rushing inside, Addy punched the lobby button, drew in a deep, courage-seeking breath and said a prayer when the doors closed and the elevator descended.

  Despite the air-conditioned cool of the elevator, drops of perspiration trickled down Addy's neck. Her palms were coated with sweat. Her pulse beat rapidly. Her mouth felt as dry and parched as desert sand.

  She knew she shouldn't be doing this. Nick would be furious when he came out of ICU and found her missing. God, what had gotten into her, thinking she could rescue her father, that she could confront a man who could well be one of the kidnappers? She wasn't thinking straight. If the man in the coffee shop chose to kidnap her or even kill her, what help could she be to her father?

  Just as Addy made the monumental decision that she was going to go back upstairs and tell Nick about the phone call, the elevator doors opened at the lobby level. Quickly, she punched the ICU floor button. Before the doors closed, a man entered. With fear racing through her like molten lava down a mountainside, Addy looked up to see who was sharing the elevator with her. Recognizing the man, she sagged with relief.

  "Oh, thank God, it's you!"

  "What's wrong, Addy? You seem frightened."

  "I'm all right now. I wasn't expecting to see you." The man reached around Addy, pressing the open button.

  "What are you doing? I was on my way back upstairs."

  "I'm surprised Nick Romero let you out of his sight."

  When Addy tried to press the ICU floor button again, her companion placed his hand over hers, pulling her away from the control panel. Addy glared at him.

  "I have a gun in my coat pocket, Addy, and I'm quite prepared to use it."

  "You?"

  "We'll walk outside together, like old friends, and go to my car. Once we reach our destination, I'll tell you everything you want to know about Rusty's kidnapper."

  Addy followed his instructions, cursing herself for being such a fool. Not only had she acted impulsively but she had doomed herself and her father. Icy chills of fear racked her body as her kidnapper opened his car door and gave her a gentle shove. Once trapped inside the moving vehicle, Addy turned her head slightly, watching the hospital until it faded out of sight. The car soon blended in with the afternoon traffic, its two occupants escaping any undue notice as they left behind Addy's protection—Nick Romero and the FBI.

  Addy knew her only hope now lay with Nick being able to somehow figure out who had taken her. But would he be able to piece the puzzle together in time to save her and her father? Would he, unlike she and her father, ignore all the circumstantial evidence and go with his gut instincts? Dear Lord, please help him. If ever she had needed her paladin to come to her rescue, it was now.

  * * *

  Scanning the ICU waiting area, Nick didn't see Addy. Alan Sturges stood by the windows, drinking a cup of coffee and flirting with an overly attentive Janice Dixon. Where the hell was Addy? Was she in the rest room? If so, why wasn't Sturges standing guard outside the door?

  Nick marched over to the FBI agent, gripping his shoulder in a vise-like hold. "Where's Addy?"

  "Right over—" Sturges's face turned pale, his eyes widening in surprise and fear. "She's got to be in here! I just saw her a few minutes ago."

  "Well, she sure as hell isn't here now, is she?" Nick swung the younger man around to face him. "If anything has happened to her, your life isn't worth—"

  "It's not Alan's fault," Janice interrupted. "I've been deliberately distracting him. He—he didn't see Addy leave."

  Nick released Sturges, then reached out and grabbed Janice by the shoulders. "What do you mean 'leave'? Where did she go?"

  "Down to the coffee shop." Tears filled Janice's big blue eyes.

  "How the hell did this happen?" Nick's gut tightened into a painful knot. His heart drummed like a roaring tornado. His big hands trembled on Janice's shoulders. "Why would she slip away to go to the coffee shop?"

  "A man called."

  Hot, acrid bitterness rose in his throat, the physical evidence of a fear too great to be born. "What man?"

  "I don't know," Janice cried as Nick tightened his hold on her. "He—he told Addy that he knew where Uncle Rusty was, and he knew—knew who'd kidnapped him."

  "Is she meeting this man in the coffee shop?" Perspiration broke out on Nick's face, dotting his forehead and upper lip. He felt the sticky, moist drops of sweat dripping down his back.

  "Yes!" Janice's cries grew louder; tears streamed down her face. "I tried to stop her!"

  He shook Janice so forcefully that Agent Sturges clamped his hands over Nick's, trying to free the woman from Nick's wrath. Realizing that he was hurting Janice, Nick released her. "Dammit, how could she have done something so stupid?"

  Janice sought comfort in Alan Sturges's arms. "She said to tell Alan—Agent Sturges—what she'd done if she didn't come back in a few minutes."

  "How long has she been gone?" Nick's voice was a low, deadly growl.

  Swatting away a torrent of tears, Janice glanced up at the wall clock. "About—about five minutes."

  "Sturges," Nick yelled, "go find Johnson! Tell him what's happened. I'm going down to the coffee shop, and you'd better pray that I'm not too late."

  * * *

  Nick spent the rest of the day in a living hell, fearing the worst and hating himself for leaving Addy in another man's care, even for the few minutes it had taken to question Jim Hester. Someone had timed that phone call just right. Someone had known the minute he'd left Addy. Sturges and Johnson had known, and so had Janice Dixon. Had she been able to contact Ron Glover? Were they the man and woman behind all the threats, behind Addy's attempted kidnapping, the recent shootings and Rusty's abduction? It made perfect sense, didn't it? Glover had been on Nick's list of suspects since the very beginning.

  The FBI had set up headquarters at Rusty's mansion, waiting for any kind of instructions from the kidnapper. Thankfully, Dina had slept through the afternoon and evening. Nick had been the one to tell her what had happened to Addy. He'd never seen such sheer horror on Dina's face. Did she really love Rusty McConnell enough to care about his daughter? She sure as hell acted as if she did, as if her own life depended upon Rusty's and Addy's safety.

  Mrs. Hargett had been the one to take charge, to prepare sandwiches and coffee for the agents who swarmed over the house like a cluster of drone bees. The housekeeper had also been the one to keep Dina out of the way, soothing her with words and pats and occasional cups of tea that Nick suspected were laced with liquor. By nightfall, Dina was quiet and unobtrusive.

  Nick sat in Rusty's huge den, his vision clouded over with memories of the past eight days he'd spent with Addy in Sequana Falls. He heard the agents' voices and saw them moving about the room, but his private thoughts blocked out the reality.

  Nothing could happen to Addy. His life wouldn't be worth living without her. If he ever got his hands on the man who'd done this to her, he'd kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

  The telephone rang. Every man in the room froze. After an agonizing moment of suspended time, Ned Johnson picked up the receiver.

  "McConnell residence."

  Nick held his breath, waiting. Silence so profound that they could almost hear one another's heartbeats encompassed the den. Then Johnson said, "What? Is he all right? Where was he found?"

  Nick rushed over to Johnson, grabbing him by the arm. "Who's been found?"

  Ned replaced the receiver, then turned to Nick. "Rusty McConnell has been found. He's alive and unharmed."

  "When? Where?"

  "The Huntsville police found him wandering around on the side of the interstate. They thought he was drunk." Ned motioned to two of his agents. "Hankins, you and Murphy go down to the police station and bring Mr. McConnell home. He'll be a li
ttle groggy and disoriented. He's been drugged."

  "Drugged," Nick said. "If he's been drugged the whole damned time, then he's probably not going to be able to tell us who kidnapped him."

  "If the kidnapper let McConnell go, then you can bet your life he didn't reveal his identity."

  Within an hour, D.B. McConnell had been brought home, and he'd showered, shaved, eaten and smoked a cigar. No one had told him that Addy was missing, not even Dina, whose tearful reunion with her fiancé had just about convinced Nick of her sincerity.

  Nick had stayed out of sight, watching Rusty's homecoming from inside the house while Dina, Mrs. Hargett and half a dozen agents surrounded Rusty on the veranda. If Rusty saw him, he'd ask about Addy. As far as her father knew, Addy was still in hiding, safe and sound.

  Ned Johnson approached Nick, who'd found himself a peaceful spot out in the backyard. "McConnell has to be told. I thought you might want to be the one to tell him."

  "Yeah, thanks. She was my responsibility, and I let some maniac get to her. If anything happens to Addy—"

  "Don't talk like that to her father."

  "If anything happens to her, I hope Rusty breaks my damned neck."

  "Mrs. Hargett is keeping Ms. Lunden occupied. We've got McConnell in the den." Ned placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. "He can't identify the kidnapper. He didn't see much more than Hester saw, except he saw the gun. A 10 mm., but we would have know that soon, anyway, from the ballistics report on the bullets the doctors dug out of Hester and Alton."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yeah. His attacker was driving a dark blue Buick. Rusty got a glimpse of the license plate. He remembered the first four digits. We're running a check now, but don't get your hopes up. You know as well as I do the car was probably stolen."

  "Can you give me a few minutes alone with Rusty?" Nick asked.

  "Sure thing."

  As it turned out, Nick didn't get more than three minutes alone with Addy's father after explaining to him what had happened at the hospital. The telephone rang, stunning everyone into silence.