The first deputy arrived seconds later, weapon drawn, followed by the sheriff himself. “What’s going on?”
Jonah glanced at Sheriff Patrick O’Rourke. He was Shamus’s older brother and, from all accounts, a good lawman. “Intruder. Probably went out the back door.”
Patrick sent two of his men that way and leaned over Amanda. “Ambulance is on the way. How is she?”
Amanda was suddenly very conscious about her state of undress. Her legs were bare.
She tugged at her T-shirt and shivered. Jonah swore and yanked off his jacket, spreading it over her legs. “Better?”
She nodded and tried to speak. Nothing came out but a raw croak.
“No, don’t try and talk.” Jonah tilted her head back slightly and stared at her neck.
“He tried to strangle you, didn’t he?”
She nodded and shivered again. She felt cold to her very soul. It was just beginning to dawn on her that someone had tried to kill her.
Chapter Six
Jonah was vibrating with anger, but he allowed none of it outwardly show. On the outside, he was calm and controlled. Violence was something he was used to. In his years in the Special Forces, he’d been in some of the world’s most dangerous locations. He wasn’t one of those guys who enjoyed violence, but he didn’t shy away from doing what needed to be done.
But this was different.
Someone had tried to kill Amanda. Sweet, innocent Amanda, with her fiery red hair and her sexy curves. The more cynical part of his brain wasted no time in pointing out the fact that maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. This didn’t seem to be a random burglary that had gone bad. Usually, burglars avoided homeowners, running rather than confronting them. Breaking and entering was a lot less serious charge than attempted murder.
This felt personal. And as soon as Amanda was up to talking, he was going to get some answers. It didn’t matter that they’d just met. He felt an attachment to her on some deep level that he couldn’t deny. Not that he’d let himself get too involved with Amanda or her life, but he couldn’t turn his back on a woman in danger either.
She couldn’t talk, but kept her eyes on him as the sheriff’s deputies went over the downstairs, room by room. One of them called out to the Sheriff. Patrick glanced at Jonah and then down at Amanda. “The ambulance will be here any second. I’ll be right back.”
Amanda reached out, her hand groping for Jonah’s. He took her much smaller hand in his and held on tight. “You’re safe. Everything is going to be just fine.”
“Sorry,” she croaked. She coughed and clutched at her throat.
He frowned. “Don’t try and talk until the doctor’s looked at you. And you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“My problem. Not yours.” Her face was stark white, making her freckles even more prominent.
Jonah eased her into a seated position, drawing her into his arms. Her entire body trembled as he pulled her closer. He could feel the soft mound of her breast press against his chest, could smell the scent of her floral soap. His cock twitched, but he ignored it. He was so glad she was alive. He wouldn’t even contemplate what could have happened to her if he hadn’t arrived in time.
Patrick strode down the hall toward them just as the emergency medical technicians came through the front door. Reluctantly, Jonah released Amanda into their care. One of the emergency technicians covered her with a blanket while the other began checking her throat and vitals.
Jonah pulled his jacket back on, never taking his eyes off Amanda as they asked her questions and checked her from head to toe. She balked when one of them pulled the stretcher alongside her.
“No stretcher,” she croaked and started to push herself to her feet. “I’m okay.” The fine quivering in her body contradicted her assertion.
The EMT checking her over put out his hand and stopped her. “You’ve been through a trauma. It’s a precautionary measure. Let us load you on the stretcher and take you to the hospital so the doc can check you out. Okay?”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Jonah promised her.
After a long moment, she nodded and closed her eyes. Jonah kept an eye on things as they carefully lifted her onto the stretcher, strapped her on and carried her out to the waiting ambulance. He watched the stretcher until it disappeared from sight. Then he turned to Patrick. “What did you find?”
Patrick’s eyes widened at the demand, but he didn’t hold back. “The back door was unlocked. Amanda must have forgotten to lock it. The guy had a free pass into the place.”
He waved over to the front room. “He ransacked a few of her boxes. I have no idea if anything was taken. I’ll know more once I talk to Amanda and she has a chance to go through everything.”
Jonah nodded and turned away. He’d find out more later. Now he had to get to the hospital.
“Jonah?”
He stopped and faced Patrick, who stood with his legs braced apart and his hands on his hips. “Yeah?”
“What were you doing here?”
“I was on the phone with Amanda when she heard something downstairs. She wouldn’t let me phone the police, so I decided to come over and check things out for myself. On the way over, her line went dead so I called it in. I figured I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Patrick nodded. “I wasn’t aware you knew Amanda. She just moved here a few days ago.” The sheriff’s expression was unreadable, but Jonah could sense that the lawman wasn’t quite satisfied with his explanation.
“I met her when I brought a load of books over. She’s selling them for Elizabeth. I’m also doing some work on the wiring for this place. Shamus called me this morning when he found out that Amanda is having some electrical problems.” Normally the most patient of men, Jonah found that impatience was eating at him. “If you have any more questions, I’ll be with Amanda.”
Not waiting to see if Patrick had anything left to ask, Jonah strode to his truck and headed to the hospital.
Amanda lost track of how long she’d been waiting in the emergency room, but she knew she’d been here a while. She’d been whisked inside upon arrival and had since been poked and prodded from head to toe. A cold pack had been used on her neck to keep the swelling down. In spite of the trauma, she’d dozed once or twice, always waking with a jolt of fear as the memory of her attack drifted through her subconscious.
Her head was pounding and her throat throbbed. She swallowed and moaned. The doctor, whose nametag proclaimed him to be Doctor David Ames, gave her a sympathetic look as he probed lightly at her neck.
“The good news is there isn’t any permanent damage.” He straightened and offered her a slight smile. “The bad news is that you’re going to have a bruised neck and a sore throat for a few days.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was fine. Yes, she’d been scared out of her wits, but she was okay. A sore throat and bruised neck was a small price to pay for being alive. “Thanks,” she whispered.
The doctor nodded. “You take it easy and talk only when absolutely necessary. I’m going to give you something to help ease the pain. Other than that, warm tea with honey will help. That and time is about all anyone can do.”
A knock sounded and the sheriff poked his head in through the door. “Can I see the patient?”
Doctor Ames nodded. “Don’t let her strain her voice.” He turned back to her.
“There’s no need to keep you tonight as long as you have someone to stay with you.”
“I’ll stay.” The deep male voice washed over her like a warm blanket, leaving her feeling safe and warm. Jonah had come just like he’d said he would.
Sheriff O’Rourke frowned at Jonah. “You need to wait outside.”
Amanda made a small sound of distress and Jonah’s head swiveled around, his gaze caught hers. “I’m staying.”
He pushed past Patrick and came over to the side of the bed she was sitting on. “You doing okay?”
She nodded and pulled the blanket more tightly aro
und her. She couldn’t seem to get warm. Amanda knew it was a result of the shock and trauma, but knowing didn’t make the cold any easier to bear.
Patrick O’Rourke walked over beside her and smiled. She’d met him several times when she’d come to visit Cyndi and Shamus.
“I’ve got questions for you. You up to answering?”
She nodded and looked around for something to write on. Seeing nothing, she made a motion with her hand, pantomiming the act of writing. Patrick reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen. Amanda smiled at him as she took them and tried not to notice that her hand was trembling.
“What do you remember?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to think back. “Noise,” she croaked and then coughed.
Jonah swore. Grabbing a cup of water from the bedside table, he held the straw to her lips. “Sip.”
Gratefully, she sucked back a small amount of the tepid water. It felt good against the swollen tissues of her throat. She mouthed the words “thank you” and straightened her shoulders. The quicker this was done, the better.
“So you heard a noise and went downstairs to investigate?” She nodded and the sheriff continued his questioning. “Then what?”
Jonah picked up the story. “I was on the phone with her at the time. She started down the stairs, but told me the light at the bottom didn’t work.”
“Deliberate?” Patrick asked.
Jonah shrugged. “I’ll check on that. The house is having all sorts of electrical issues, which is why I’d planned to start working on it tomorrow. That’s what Amanda and I were discussing on the phone when all this started.”
Amanda felt her cheeks heating and bowed her head. Staring at her lap, she tried not to think about what they’d been doing when all this happened. She appreciated Jonah protecting her reputation. Clutching the blanket tighter around her, she glanced up at the men. Thankfully, they were ignoring her for the moment.
She knew she had to get a grip on herself, but it was hard. Someone had tried to strangle her tonight. Before that, she’d had phone sex. The entire night was surreal, like an erotic dream that morphed into a horror novel.
“Amanda?” She jerked at the sound of her name. Patrick was waiting, a look of pity on his face.
She straightened her shoulders. She’d seen that look her entire childhood from well-meaning social workers and do-gooders. Amanda hated it. She didn’t need anyone’s pity.
She’d built a good life and was a strong, independent woman, not a child.
Gripping the pen tight in her fingers, she jotted down a note and showed Patrick.
“You smelled him?”
She nodded. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the smell. Fear and cologne.
That’s what the smell was. She wrote that down and showed the sheriff.
“Definitely a man?”
Amanda nodded. No doubt in her mind. Something else popped into her head and she wrote it down, underlining it.
Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “He was wearing a mask?”
Again, she nodded. All this bobbing of her head wasn’t helping her headache. “I felt it when I tried to hit him. I heard his voice too.” She spoke before she thought. The pain was still there, but at least this time she hadn’t started coughing.
“He spoke to you?” Jonah stood beside her, strong and solid. She wanted to lean on him, rest against him for a moment. Instead, she straightened her spine. He was just passing through her life. The only person she could depend on was herself.
She nodded and tried to recall exactly what her attacker had said. Clutching the pen tight, she scribbled on the pad. When she was done, she turned it so both men could read it.
Where is it? Where’s the book?
“That’s what he said?” Amanda shivered and nodded as Patrick repeated the words.
Reality came crashing back down on top of her. Books. Her books. “Books,” she whispered, too anxious to bother with writing. Grabbing Jonah’s hand, she squeezed tight.
Patrick shook his head. “Whoever hurt you dumped a few of your boxes onto the floor.”
Amanda moaned. Her books were her life, her livelihood.
“When you’re feeling up to it, you’ll have to inventory everything and see if anything is missing.” Patrick shook his head. “You need to remember to start locking all your doors at night, especially the back one. It’s not visible from the road so it’s a more likely target for a thief. This is a small town, but we still have our share of crime.”
Amanda shook her head. She’d locked her door. Hadn’t she? Closing her eyes, she thought and thought. She’d taken her coffee out onto the back patio yesterday afternoon.
Had she locked the door behind her? She was positive she had, but maybe she hadn’t.
Obviously, she hadn’t or the attacker wouldn’t have been able to just walk in. The lock was old and a bit tricky. It must not have latched tight. Something else for her to-do list, but this item went straight to the top.
Jonah’s hand tightened around hers as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“It’s not your fault. This guy obviously wanted something specific and a lock wouldn’t have stopped him. You have some really valuable books, don’t you?”
Amanda nodded, not even wanting to contemplate the damage that might have been done to some of them. Yes, she had insurance, but that would never replace a book that had been destroyed.
Patrick reached out and took the pen and notebook from her. “That’s it for tonight.
I’ll be in touch tomorrow. My men should be finished processing the crime scene by the time you get home. In the meantime, I’ll leave a deputy in a car in front of your house.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Patrick glanced over at Jonah. “You taking her home?”
“Yes.” There was no room for doubt in Jonah’s reply.
Amanda wanted to protest that she could get herself home just fine, but she didn’t.
Truthfully, she could use some help right now. She felt battered and bruised and more frightened than she’d care to admit. She had no idea who would do this or what they wanted.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything just call.” Patrick nodded at her and then left the room. She and Jonah were alone.
“Come on, sugar.”
She started to slide off the bed, but he stopped her, scooping her into his arms, blanket and all.
“Walk,” she protested, even as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“You don’t have any pants on and no one else needs to get an eyeful of your long, sexy legs, but me.”
He thinks my legs are sexy. Amanda couldn’t help but smile in spite of the situation.
No man had ever given her such a lovely compliment before.
“Besides,” he continued. “You’re only wearing socks on your feet.”
Jonah pushed his way through the swinging door and stopped long enough to handle the necessary paperwork and for Doctor Ames to hand her a prescription. He carried her through the parking lot to his truck. The drive home was done in silence.
As promised, a lone police car sat out in front of her home. The deputy got out when Jonah pulled into her driveway. “The front door is unlocked, but the rest of the house is secured. We finished with the crime scene a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks.” Jonah came around the truck and lifted her out. He took her up the walkway and into the house, stopping only long enough to secure the front door.
Her arms tightened around him as they passed the spot where her attacker had assaulted her. “Don’t think about it. Not tonight.” He started up the stairs, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. He wasn’t even breathing hard and she wasn’t exactly skinny.
The man was all muscle.
The bedside light was still on in her room and he carried her straight to the bed. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She nodded and he released her
legs slowly, holding her steady until she had her balance.
“Do you need help?”
She snorted. As if she’d let him help her with that. Ignoring him, she padded to the bathroom. First thing she did was look in the mirror. Dark, mottled bruises circled her neck. Amanda shivered and turned away. It would be even worse in the morning, but as the doctor said, it would eventually heal.
That was all that mattered. That and trying to figure out who would do something like this to her. Was it a stranger? A thief who knew she had rare books? Or was it someone she knew? A past customer who’d followed her to Jamesville?
Finishing in the bathroom, she headed back to her room. Jonah was sitting on the side of the bed waiting patiently for her. He’d taken off his boots and socks and laid them neatly beside her dresser. His leather jacket was hooked over the closet doorknob and his shirt was folded and laid on top of a box. His belt, wallet, cell phone and keys sat beside his shirt. His gun looked out of place resting next to her lamp on the bedside table. Jonah wore only his jeans.
He stood as she made her way to the bed. His jeans rode low on his hips, emphasizing his lean waist and wide chest. The muscles in his arms flexed and rippled as he held up the covers and motioned her into bed. A light dusting of dark chest hair covered his upper torso before arrowing down the center of his belly and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. He looked as sexy as any pin-up model.
“Get in,” he urged.
She wasn’t at all sure about this. She knew he’d told the sheriff he’d stay with her, but she hadn’t realized that he’d meant it literally.
“We’re just going to sleep.” The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “As sexy as you are, I’m just plain worn out after all the excitement tonight.”
Amanda ducked her head, feeling foolish now. Of course, all they were going to do was sleep. She was too battered and bruised to do anything else. And Jonah had to be exhausted. He’d been out at her house at the crack of dawn this morning and he’d spent half the night at the hospital with her.
By the Book j-6 Page 6
