by Dale Mayer
Thomas adjusted the angle of the sketch so Joseph could get a better look. He studied it for a moment, then shrugged. "No. I'm not sure I've even seen him."
"No problem. Thanks for helping us identify the first one."
"Anyone else here have access to the office?" Thomas studied the almost empty center. "Someone who might be here now, so we don't have to disturb Kali?"
The two instructors exchanged frowns. "I don't know. Those two run the place. A couple of us have keys to this common area and the bathrooms, not the offices."
Grant exchanged a glance with Thomas. "Okay, I'll ask Kali. Thanks for the help."
Thomas and Grant reached Kali's office a moment later. Reaching out, Grant tested the knob. Locked. Pulling out his pick from his wallet, Grant opened the door in seconds. Glancing at Thomas first, he stepped inside.
The room appeared normal, untouched.
Walking to the far side of her desk, Grant booted her computer. While they waited for it to load, both of them perused her desk, drawers, and bookshelves. Unlike Stan, Kali's workspace was sparse and clean. Cold.
"Hardly looks lived in."
"Kali mentioned she came in infrequently and then mostly to work."
"Obviously." Thomas paced the small room, checking for anything of interest.
The computer requested a log-in and password. Grant frowned, sat down, and entered several possible log-ins. None of them worked.
"No luck here."
"Head to the hospital and Kali?" Thomas asked.
Grant sighed and rubbed his eyes. His cell phone said four o'clock. Time to try the hospital again, for at least the fifth time for the day.
This time Grant reached the nurses' station and as luck would have it, the doctor. "Hi, Dr. Sanderson. Have you an update on Kali Jordan? The shooting victim from the police station parking lot this morning?"
"Jordan? Oh, right. That's one lucky lady." The doctor coughed several times, clearing his throat.
Grant waited for him. "How's she doing?"
"I've put in close to thirty stitches. The bullet's path damaged the trapezoid and triceps muscles. The skin will take the longest to heal; however, everything's been repaired. Time will heal the rest."
"That's good news." He straightened as the load of worry sloughed off his shoulders.
"Yes. If that bullet had gone in at a slightly different angle, she'd likely be dead."
"I understand." Grant didn't dare dwell on what-ifs. "Is she awake? Can I speak with her?"
"Maybe in an hour or so."
Grant finished the call, updating Thomas. "She's still under. We won't be able to talk to her for a bit."
"Then let's try to identify this second man, then find Jarl."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"Hey?"
Kali turned her head, rising up slightly onto her arms so she could see him. Lying on her stomach gave her a limited view. "Grant?"
His footsteps sounded first, then the sound of him moving a chair up to the front of the bed. He added a second one to it.
She twisted for another look, only the second person stood just out of view.
"Don't try to move, Kali. I brought Stefan."
"What?" Great, she couldn't even turn to sit properly. At least she wore a gown. Her back lay exposed, blankets covered her lower half. She'd been so looking forward to seeing Stefan, again. She must look awful. Swallowing hard, she said as nonchalantly as she could, "I'd say hello, it's good to see you again, except it's a little hard to see you now. Grant, can you give me a hand, please?"
Grant's strong arms grabbed her below the ribs and he lifted her free of both bed and bedding.
Kali shrieked as the world spun in a chaotic movement before righting itself. She snagged the blankets to cover herself as she settled down in a sitting position. "Unorthodox, but effective." She smiled up at him. "Thanks."
Arranging herself cross-legged on top of the bed, she looked up and lost her breath again. "Good God, I'd forgotten. You're too gorgeous to wander around loose, Stefan," she exclaimed, staring. Satan's angel stared at her, a barest smile casting a wicked glint to features already too stunning to assimilate.
His grin widened, his eyes flashing with appreciative humor. "And why would you say that?"
That made her sniff in disgust. "My mom didn't raise any idiots. And my Dad would've bought a shotgun after meeting you."
Stefan laughed outright. "I'd have liked them both. My face was a gift from God. My heart and soul are my own. We're obligated to do all we can to be the best that we can be."
Grant stretched his long legs out in front of his chair, drawing attention to his presence. "How profound."
With a quick glance at Stefan, Kali turned her attention on Grant. "Must be tough to watch the women fall all over your friend, huh?"
His eyebrows beetled together as he studied her. "Sometimes. How are you doing, Kali?"
The subject change gave her pause. Maybe her words had struck home. Tucking the information away for later, she answered, "Fine. I'm learning a new appreciation for drugs." She couldn't resist asking, "Did you two come to bust me out? And how's Shiloh?"
"You'll leave when the doctor says so and not a moment earlier. And Shiloh is doing just fine. I'll bring her when I pick you up - later."
Her face fell. "Bully," she teased gently, remembering how concerned he'd been this morning. Realizing she was staring, she glanced over at Stefan to find he'd been watching their byplay. Heat washed over her cheeks. He already knew where her heart lay. Stefan's look might blindside initially, but it was Grant who made her heart jump.
Grant's stoic voice interrupted her thoughts. "So, who's Jarl?"
She refocused on his question. "He's a big hearted goof who volunteers at the center when he's not out relocating grave sites."
"A big goof?"
"Yeah. In a good way."
"Dangerous?"
Kali frowned. Why was he asking that? What did he suspect? And was Jarl dangerous? She pondered what she knew of him. "Personally, I believe anyone is dangerous given the right circumstances. Jarl loves very strongly, and I would imagine he hates just as strongly."
Stefan nodded, a curious approving light in his eyes. "As do many people."
This time Grant made no attempt to hide his exasperation. "We'd like to talk to him."
"Then do so," Kali responded lightly. "He lives a couple of blocks from the center."
"Where?" Grant pulled out his notebook, tugging a pen free from his shirt pocket.
"I've driven him home several times. Let me think." Kali mentally traced the trip. "Turn left as you leave the parking lot. Jarl's house is two blocks ahead. I don't remember the number. It's a two story cedar shingled bungalow hidden behind a six-foot plus high cedar hedge along the front street."
"Any idea if he's struggling with any particular problems lately?"
"Not that he's shared. I know he's happily married with two full-grown sons."
"Money problems?"
"I don't know." Kali shrugged, then hissed in pain. "Stupid move," she gasped.
Grant leaned forward, concern on his face. "Do you need a nurse?"
"Hell, no." Kali breathed deeply, then exhaled slowly.
Frowning, Grant sat back, sending a quick questioning glance at Stefan. "That sounded emphatic."
Stefan never moved, except for the knowing grin on his face. He appeared content to watch and listen.
Kali twisted her lips. "Nurses poke and prod and do nasty stuff. I'll skip it, thanks." Kali studied Stefan, who smirked at Grant. Puzzled, Kali's gaze bounced between them.
Understanding struck. Grant was jealous! Okay, she was dense. Had to be the damned drugs. She didn't normally take so long to get undercurrents.
Her lips twitched at his male stupidity.
Grant kept the conversation on track. "Okay, so there are no financial or family problems that you know about? What about competitiveness? Does he like to be the top dog?"
It seemed imp
ossible to imagine Jarl in that type of role. She shook her head. "I don't believe he does. I've never seen any sign of it. He teaches a lot and is well loved for his great of humor, but...I'm not always sure what's going on inside. He's very private."
Grant scratched down notes while Kali watched curiously. "Why the interest? Surely you don't think he's a suspect?"
"The cameras shot him trying to access your office."
"So? That means nothing. It's the office, not my office. Stan could have asked him to go in and get something or do some work on that computer? Anything's possible."
"Only Stan lay unconscious in his office at the time we've clocked Jarl's entrance attempt into your office."
"Maybe Stan asked him before he was injured? Jarl was at the center before we found Stan."
"What? He was?" Grant lifted his gaze to stare at her in surprise.
"Yes, I remember giving him a big hug. He'd been away for several days."
"I need to get into your computer."
"There's nothing worthwhile on my account, but you're welcome to my login." Kali rattled it off.
"That's not very sophisticated." Grant glared at the number and letter combination on his notebook, his voice sharp. "You need a more complex password than that."
"Why?" she asked reasonably. "Apparently even the difficult ones are hackable within hours, anyway." What could Jarl want in her office? She couldn't remember the books on the shelves, and her files were the financials. Then again..."
Leaning forward, she added abruptly. "My computer is the server."
Grant leaned forward. "What? Why your computer?"
"The budget didn't allow for a standalone server and Stan continually crashes his."
"So you use the server instead? That's not smart."
Kali grimaced, barely withholding a shrug. Lying in the hospital bed, she'd realized how that one simple movement dominated her expressions. Maybe the injury had a benefit, after all. Grant was waiting for a response. "Stan's motto is 'do whatever works.' Speaking of Stan, how is he?"
"Still unconscious but stable. The bleeding has stopped altogether."
"And Julie," she whispered, petrified to hear the answer. "Any progress?"
"We're on it, Kali. The FBI does function even without you." Grant's voice was even...almost too even.
Kali shifted, her butt noticing the long stretch in that position. "Sorry, where's Shiloh?"
"I took her and your Jeep home, then came here with Thomas. I'll head over there and feed her in a bit."
His words pinched. Shiloh was hers. She'd been the only one to feed her - ever. Stupid. She should be grateful that Grant was capable of caring for her.
"Grant." Kali stopped.
"What?"
"If you're going to my house anyway, would you mind bringing my art stuff?"
Stefan sat up. He and Grant exchanged glances. "Are you picking up on something?" Grant asked hopefully.
Not wanting to get his hopes up, she compromised. "I'm not sure. My dreams...wow! But the drugs are problematic. Are they putting the pictures in or have they opened my mind up further?"
"It could be either or both." Stefan said, his liquid chocolate voice soothing her doubts. "We'll get you a sketchbook. Once you get the images down, we can take a look. When your mind is overwhelmed with images, it's hard to separate real from imaginary."
"Exactly." She stared at him in delight. He understood. Stefan smiled as they shared a conspiratorial look. Flashing Grant a look, Kali found his gaze narrowed on them both. She rolled her eyes.
"We'll head there now." Pushing his chair back, Grant stood, prepared to leave. At the end of the bed he stopped. "I have to ask, are these images related to Julie?"
Stefan had reached the door, but at the question he stopped to hear her answer.
"I can't be certain until I've drawn it," Kali said soberly. "Maybe."
"Back in forty minutes." He started for the door.
Stefan winked at her before walking out of the room.
"Grant."
Almost at the door, he pivoted and raised one eyebrow in question.
Crooking her finger, she motioned him closer. When he stood at her bedside, she reached up and tugged him to her level. Staring him in the eye, she said, "Your friend is gorgeous. That does not mean I'm nuts over him. Okay?"
A fine flush worked over his face, highlighting his strong features. "Ouch. I'm that obvious?"
"I understand, really I do. I'm sure women fall all over him. However, get this straight, I am not other women."
His eyes warmed. Grant bent and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon."
Kali listened as his footsteps faded away. Time for help. She reached for the call button.
A nurse arrived within minutes. "How's the pain, dearie?"
"Liveable. But I have to go to the bathroom."
"Good." With efficient practice, the nurse pulled the blanket back and tucked it over the bed. "Now, on your feet, and let's see how steady you are."
Kali wasn't as steady as she'd hoped. Eventually she weaved her way back to her bed with the nurse's help. The bone weary exhaustion invaded her limbs.
The bed loomed in front of them. Three full steps and one baby step more. Climbing up onto the bed, she collapsed onto her belly, then buried her face in the pillow. Oh God, she hurt. Flames burned along her shoulders, tremors vibrated along her limbs. There'd be no more lifting her head. "Ohhh," she moaned against the crackling hospital pillow.
"Painkillers?"
Kali twisted her head sideways. "No thanks. Do you know when I can leave?"
"Nope, but I can tell you that going to the bathroom on your own is a definite requirement."
"Right. Failed that one." Kali closed her eyes and waited for her breathing to calm down.
She woke up an hour later and felt so much better; it was hard to understand how. Had she missed Grant? She frowned, searching her room. There was no sign of her sketchbook. A hospital tray waited for her with a large dome hiding its contents.
Kali pushed herself up and attempted to drop her legs over the side of the hospital bed. Awkward, ungainly and painful, but it worked. Kali sighed with relief as she settled into a more comfortable sitting position, her legs swinging over the bed. The blankets reached the floor when she tucked them around her lower body. The over the bed table was accessible, too. Perfect.
The largest of the plastic domes held a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Cold and greasy. Kali shuddered, dropping the lid. A small salad and a bowl of jello or possibly plastic wobbled in a small bowl at the back. Well, that wasn't happening.
Depressed and hungry, she tried to shift back onto the bed when Grant walked in, sketchbook in hand.
"It's good to see you moving about."
Kali glowered. "You may enter if you brought real coffee. Can't say a muffin, sandwich or equally light would go amiss, either. It's supposed to be dinner time, but the meal here can't be classified as food. No Stefan?"
His lips quirked, his gaze switching from the tray to her, as his eyes lit with amusement. "Stefan will stop by later, if he can. Here are your sketchbook and pencils, and I'll find you something to eat." He dumped his armload on the bed, dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, and left.
Kali stared after him, shock rippling along her spine, her fingers pressed against the ghost of his kiss. He was getting very comfortable with those. She kinda liked it.
To take her mind off her hunger and Grant's behavior, Kali opened her sketchbook to a clean page. Julie had been missing for a full day now. Depending on her condition and the amount of oxygen available, her time was running out. Kali's thoughts turned dark and dreary. Depressed, she worried on how to end this mess. Her mind flipped from one possibility to another as she doodled. What if she went on TV and publicly admitted this killer had her beat hands down? It wasn't as if her ego cared. His ego needed the satisfaction. TV? Newspapers? Radio? Hmmm. She would mention it to Grant. Kali's hand moved aiml
essly as her mind pondered the problems.
"That's a face to photograph, and here I am, without my camera."
Kali looked up as Grant entered the room, carrying two take-out coffees and a paper bag.
"Oh yeah, food and coffee." Kali threw her sketchbook to one side and tossed her pencil on top. "The table is cleared and ready." She shifted to sit with her legs over the edge again, taking her blanket with her. "What did you bring?"
