A Place to Rest My Heart (Crimson Romance)

by Galen Rose

  One minute.

  I lay there, stunned, and then rolled to my feet before toppling over, overwhelmed by the pain shooting through my ankle. Damn it, Murphy! I hobbled my way down the street to the truck as my cell phone began to vibrate against my hip. I opened the door and hauled myself inside.

  “What? I’m here!”

  “Darling. You sound like you’re in pain. Is everything all right?” I wanted to reach inside the phone and rip James’s throat out. His voice grated along my raw nerves. I started the truck and bit back a cry as my foot pushed down on the gas pedal.

  “I’m fine. I have it. Now what?” My right hand was bleeding profusely as I attempted to drive and shift with my left. I started searching for something to wrap around my hand. Finding Mike’s gym bag on the seat I dragged out a T-shirt and clenched my hand around it.

  “Now you drive across the Golden Gate Bridge. You will make sure you’re not followed, won’t you, princess?” James was almost purring, he sounded so smug.

  “Yes. Please let me talk to Sean.”

  “Helena? I’m looking forward to seeing you soon.”

  “I know,” I said through gritted teeth. “The feeling is mutual.” He laughed and hung up. I pulled over to better wrap the shirt around my hand. Mike also had a bottle of Gatorade in the bag and I drank it quickly. I pulled back out on the road and drove as fast as possible across the bridge. As soon as I got on the Marin side my phone rang again.

  “I’m here.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m having you followed. Nice driving. You managed to lose your tail. Now drive to Highway 1 and head north.”

  Again he hung up. My cell phone rang again but I knew who it was this time.

  “Where’s my goddamn truck, Laney?” Mike screamed at me.

  “Oh it’s fine. Sorry about the blood. It’ll come out I’m sure.” He swore at me and I had to laugh. I was driving to meet the devil, what else was I supposed to do? Was Mike’s damnation going to do any worse? I didn’t think so, and if I didn’t laugh, I would have gone mad.

  “I know you and Chase are tracking me. Someone else is, too. When I get to Sean I will place my watch on him and set off the alarm. No matter what, you’ll find him. I need to go now. I need both hands to drive.” I hung up on Mike screaming at me. God, he had a temper.

  Driving Highway One with only one hand was not that easy. I wanted to hurry to get to Sean but I had never driven this curvy route that snaked along the coast. I was nearing Point Reyes, after forty-five minutes, when I got the next call.

  “You’re doing very well, Helena. Now at the corner go right and follow that for a block and then go right again. Then pull over and allow the car behind you to pass. Follow it.”

  I did as instructed and a black SUV passed me, slowing down to make sure I was able to follow. We drove for another mile and turned left into a well-hidden dirt road, marked private drive. Another mile and I saw lights through the thick trees. When we stopped in front of a large ranch house, my stomach heaved.

  “Hang on, Laney, you can do it.” I kept telling myself that over and over, praying I would start to believe it in time.

  Two men got out of the SUV and walked toward the truck. My door was pulled open and I was hauled out by a small, barrel-chested man who reeked of onions and garlic. He grinned at me, spun me around to face the truck, and shoved me against it. His leg came between mine as he pushed my legs apart and searched me with rough hands. I wanted to tell him I didn’t think I could hide a gun there but for once I kept my smart mouth shut. He pulled the watch off of my wrist and looked at it. “You won’t need this.”

  I looked back at him. “You have to push the bezel to make the dial light up.” He grabbed my head and forced it against the side of the truck. Then his searching hands found the velvet pouch and he let go of me, stepping back to look at the contents of the pouch in better light. I turned to look at the two men.

  “Where’s Sean?” I demanded. Onion breath stepped up and backhanded me, knocking me to the ground. He and the other man got back in their SUV and drove away.

  Jesus, where was Sean? I bit down hard on my bottom lip and hobbled as quickly as I could into the house. Someone had been staying there. Food wrappers littered the floor along with opened but empty shipping crates and blood. I called out for Sean, searching room to room, each empty room building up a blind panic within me. I could barely breathe by the time I found the door to the basement. I tumbled down the stairs when my ankle gave out and lay at the bottom, forcing the pain back and trying to clear my head. Writing checks my body could not cash was nothing new and I knew if I was lucky enough to see tomorrow, I would pay for this. There was a dim light on one wall that cast deep shadows around the room. A bed with ropes attached to the head and footboard was against one wall and on the floor was Sean, bound hand and foot, beaten to a bloody pulp. I pushed myself up to my knees and crawled across the floor to Sean.

  “Sean. It’s me, Laney.” I felt for his pulse. Yes! He was still alive. He couldn’t even open his swollen eyes but he knew I was there as he whispered my name with bloody lips.

  “Yes. I’m here. You’ll be safe soon. I promise.” God please let the cavalry come soon. I bent down to kiss Sean and saw the bomb under the bed. Houston, we may have a problem.

  I didn’t even think to see how much time was left. I could defuse alarm systems in a single bound but defusing a bomb was not on my list of skills. Maybe I should add that to my resume. I pulled the knife out of my boot, popped the blade, and with shaking hands I cut his ropes. I had no idea where I got the strength. Maybe it was like The Grinch and my heart grew several sizes right then. Whatever it was, it was enough to get him over my shoulder, up each God forsaken step, and out the front door. Moving down the steps of the porch I saw flashing red lights through the trees. About time the cavalry got here. It was then that I saw James standing at the edge of the forest, just at the edge of light and shadow cast by the porch lights. He looked up at me with a serene smile on this face and then looked down at something. I followed his gaze to a small black box in his hands. Dear God! I staggered away from the steps with as much strength as I could muster, when a tremendous noise deafened me as a large blast of air sent Sean and I flying like leaves across the hard ground.

  Chapter Twelve

  I awoke in a bed, my head pounding like a drum. I knew pain was a good indication that I was still alive and I opened my eyes to look around. Pea-green walls; I was in a hospital bed. I was even wearing one of those funky, butt-revealing gowns. My budding fashion sense cringed.

  I slowly stretched, beginning at the top and working my way down. My head hurt and had bandages around it. My right hand was encased in bandages and my ribs ached. I sat up slowly and looked down. Now here was my first obstacle. Getting out of this bed was going to be difficult with my leg in a brace. Getting up was my first goal. Second, and only by a fraction of an inch, was finding Sean. I was standing by the side of the bed trying to figure out how I was going to get from the bed to the door when Mike walked in. He swore ripely in two languages when he saw me. Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned back against the door. Damn, another dragon at the gate.

  “You going somewhere, Laney?” he asked, a smug look on his face.

  “I’m going to find Sean.”

  “No, you are getting back in that bed.”

  “No. I’m not.” It was difficult to look defiant with a hospital gown on and being bandaged all over, but I was trying for it anyway.

  “Do I have to put you back in that bed?” Mike took a step toward me.

  “Hey, I’m not in the mood right now for that but maybe later.”

  “Damn smartass woman.” He glared at me, turned and walked out. In a moment he was back pushing a wheelchair. “Get in.”

  I lowered myself down into the chair and he grabbed the blanket off the bed to cover me. “Nice backside there, darling.” He laughed as he knelt down on the floor to raise my right leg up. I bit back a cry of pain but h
e saw it. “I’d try telling you this was stupid, Laney, but I know it would be a waste of my breath. Besides I know damn good and well I’d be doing the same thing.” He rose up and put his head to mine. “Part of me wants to ring your fool neck for not allowing us to help sooner. But I understand. Do it again and I’ll kick your ass.”

  Mike peeked out of the door, checking out the hallway before wheeling me down the hall to Sean’s room. As we rolled in, Dr. Peter looked up from beside Sean’s bedside. He glanced at his watch and handed a five-dollar bill to Chase, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. “You nailed it. Right on time, Laney.”

  “How is he?” I tried to push myself forward to the bed. If I didn’t know it was Sean I might not have recognized him at all. His face was bruised and puffy, eyes swollen completely shut, one eyebrow with stitches running along it. His right arm was encased in plaster as well. I bit my lip hard to keep the tears back.

  Dr. Peter put a hand on my shoulder. “His lung collapsed as they were bringing him in. He is doing better today than yesterday but he has not come around yet. We did a head CT and there seems to be no damage. Apparently, a thick skull is a prerequisite to work for Woo. Now you can sit here with him for awhile but you need some rest too.”

  I only vaguely heard what Dr. Peter was saying. I wasn’t moving from this spot even if I had to handcuff myself to the damn bed. I took Sean’s hand in mine and held it. I knew Chase was still in the room. I could hear the shuffling of papers. My head still throbbed and my ankle was now screaming in protest but it mattered not one whit. I was not going to move until Sean woke up. I should have told him how I felt about him. What if he died? I shut that line of thought off quickly. He would not die. Even if I had to go to heaven and kick some ass, Sean was not going to die.

  The hours passed. Daylight gave way to night as I talked to Sean off and on when thoughts passed through my head. I even prayed again. Wow, twice in one week. I wondered if that shocked God as much as it did me?

  I fell asleep with my head on our joined hands. Not easy to do from a wheelchair, but I was too damn tired to care. I was not budging. I guess everyone knew that because I was pretty much left alone. Movement. I felt something touching my face. Sean? “Sean?” I jerked my head up against stiff, protesting muscles.

  He squeezed my hand. He whispered something but I could not hear it. “What? Sean I didn’t hear you.”

  He tried again. By the third time I heard. “Stupid.”

  He fell back asleep and I laid my head down on his hand and cried. I must have cried myself to sleep because I woke up back in my own hospital bed with sunlight streaming in and Mason sitting in a chair nearby, flipping through a magazine. “Hey.” I mumbled.

  “Hey yourself. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a train. How’s Sean?”

  “He was awake and asking for you when I saw him an hour ago. He wouldn’t believe us at first when we told him you were fine. He thought he had dreamed you holding his hand. You know, all this mushy stuff is enough to turn one away from sweets,” she said with a smile.

  “Laney, there are a couple of things I need to talk to you about. The first is that you’ll need to make a statement to the police sometime today. Chase has quite a bit of pull so we’ve been able to hold them off for a while, but they need to know what happened. I’m an attorney, so I’ll be present when they question you. Detective Sweeney, my brother, has your knife.” Mason arched an eyebrow at me. “Nice one, too. Big. I doubt you’ll get it back since, a blade that big is illegal to carry concealed in California.”

  Mason scooted her chair closer to the bed. “A rather enterprising reporter named Sherman Powers somehow got your name and the story hit the late edition last night and the first editions this morning. We can’t move you to a new hospital but we have you under a different name right now. Hopefully that will be enough to throw the wolves off until you get out. I’ve had run-ins with Powers before. It would give me no end of satisfaction to kick his teeth in.” I could almost hear Mason gnashing her teeth.

  “Where is James?” I asked hoping he was dead.

  Mason stood up and walked to the window and looked out. “We don’t know where James is. Maybe you want to tell me what happened?”

  So I told her all that I could remember from James calling me, to stealing the jewelry from Boris’s apartment, to rescuing Sean.

  Mason sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t expect you to be charged with anything. Even the B&E charge will probably not see the light of day. But, Laney, I have to tell you that what you did ranks up there in the top ten most stupid things anyone could have done. And I should know; I’ve done the top five on that list.” She held up her hand to hold off any of my comments. “Now hang on. Most likely, given the situation, I would have done the same thing. But why didn’t you ask for help?”

  I had no answer for her right then so I drank some water and waited for more of the lecture. Mason just shook her head and headed to the door. “My brother Connor and his partner, Detective Nathan Bridger, are waiting outside to talk to you.”

  I nodded to her and tried to bring my brain around to focus on the here and now. I was having trouble getting past the fact that after all that had happened James was still out there.

  Detective Sweeney and his partner came in, as Mason sat back down and pulled out pen and paper. I couldn’t see any resemblance between Connor and Mason at all. I wondered if she looked like her other brothers. Connor took out a small notepad and pen. “Laney, we need to ask you some question in regards to James Prescott and June 12. I need you to tell us everything that happened.”

  I told them everything. From James’s abuse of me, and the possible abuse of a neighbor girl, his phone calls, blackmailing me to break into Boris’s, office and what happened at the house in Point Reyes. “I saw James in the woods. He was the one who set off the bomb. There were two men helping him too. They drove a black SUV.”

  “Two men?” asked Detective Bridger. “Can you describe them?”

  “One was about five foot six, late forties, Caucasian, maybe two-fifty or more, scar across his left cheek, balding. The other one had the gun. He was six-two or better, younger than the other guy. He might have been late twenties or early thirties. He had long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Nothing else that I recall about him.” I caught a look passing between Mason and Connor.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I could see they were holding something back.

  “When we arrived on the scene we found an SUV parked off to the side of the driveway. Both men in it were dead. Both shot in the head,” said Detective Sweeney.

  Detective Bridger handed me two photos of the men. Morgue shots. I nodded. “Yes, that’s them.”

  I lay back and beat the bed in frustration. James had gotten away scot-free. No trails led to him. Nothing but me — and who would believe me?

  “Boris’s girlfriend was found dead too. It wasn’t pretty. She’d been tortured to death. We’ll be back if we have more questions.” They nodded and went out the door. Mason stepped out with them so I took the opportunity to try and get up. I think every bone in my body ached, but I sat up anyway and threw the covers off just as Mason came back in. “If you give me a moment I can arrange to get you cleaned up a bit and something a bit more on the tasteful side than that gown.”

  I looked at her. “James is still out there. We have no proof that he was involved in this, do we?”

  Mason shook her head. “Other than your word? No. Not yet.”

  “So he might not be done with Sean.”

  “That’s true. Nor with you, for that matter.”

  “Okay.”

  “Laney, I know this is a lot to hit you with. But I need to talk to you about something else. Because of all this attention by the press your name did get out and I was contacted by an attorney for William’s estate.”

  Estate? William didn’t have an estate. We had a beach house in Santa Cruz but I figured his folks
took that. I knew there might have been something left to me from William, but his family could afford to take it away from me. I couldn’t afford to hire anyone to help me and at the time William had died, I couldn’t have cared less about anything but William. “Mason, William didn’t have an estate. We had a house but his folks took it, I’m sure.”

  “Laney, it wasn’t theirs to take. William had his own inheritance left to him by his maternal grandmother. He used some of it to buy the house and a half share in the fishing boat — and he invested some — but the bulk of it was untouched. He left it all to you. William’s attorney was misinformed that you were dead, so he’s been trying to find your family. He found your Aunt Katherine and she told him you were dead as well. Since there was no death certificate and no proof of your demise he could go no further. The will stipulates that if you are dead, then the money is to go to several specified charities, but William’s family has been attempting to block the transfer of any money to the charity. The attorney hired a private detective, who discovered that you were alive about the same time your name hit the papers three days ago, then contacted Woo. I met with him. He would like to meet with you and settle some details before he goes back to Los Angeles and appears before a judge to settle the case.”

  I lay back in bed and ran my hands over my face. Mason reached into her briefcase and handed some papers to me. Most of it made no sense to me, all legal mumbo jumbo, party of the first part crap. Mason then handed me the financial documents, which listed all the assets.

  I could hear William’s voice echo in my mind. “You wait, Laney my love, one day you and I will be living in style and you will want for nothing.” I always told him I was happy just as we were. Apparently he didn’t feel that way. If this was indeed mine, I would want for nothing for a very long time. Too many things to think about, so take one thing at a time. One at a time.

  An hour later Mason was wheeling me down the hall to Sean’s room. Mike was sitting out in the hall outside my door. I noticed the outline of a gun under his denim jacket as he stood up.