Kate lifted her hand from the muscled thigh and reached across the bed to touch her sister's shoulder. "I know," she said. "And I will. In fact, I'll call once a week, how's that? On Sunday nights, after the kids are in bed."
Laura sniffled and took a long, shaky breath. She nodded. "Good. So. Change of topic. You looked pretty intense when I came back in here. What were you two talking about?"
As she spoke, she lifted the unconscious man's leg and tugged the sodden towels from under it. They landed in a heap on the floor beside the jeans and T-shirt she'd cut from him earlier, and Kate made a mental note to bag the clothes for evidence when they were done. She could check for ID while she was at it, seeing as how she'd somehow overlooked asking him for a name.
Stellar police work, that.
Laura raised an eyebrow. "Kate? What were you talking about?"
"Whether or not I should call the OPP."
Her sister's hands stilled in their unraveling of a length of gauze. She stared at Kate. "I'm sorry, but how is that even a question? You're not actually considering not calling, are you?"
Strong fingers twitched in Kate's grasp, and she shot a look at their patient's face. A sliver of unflinching blue looked back at her from beneath not-quite closed eyelids. They stared at one another, each silently challenging the other, and then she turned her attention back to Laura.
"Of course not," she said. "I'll call as soon as the phone lines are back up."
The hand beneath hers curled into a fist. Then, with no more warning than that, their patient swung his legs over the edge of the bed toward her and lurched to his feet. Laura’s startled shriek was drowned out by a groan that sounded like it had been ripped from the depths of his soul. His legs collapsed beneath him.
Without thinking, Kate caught him around the waist, straining to hold him upright. A knife edge of pain screamed through her shoulder. Her own legs gave way beneath the two of them, and with a grunt, she lurched forward.
Chapter 5
"Oh God! Katie, are you all right? Kate? Talk to me, damn it! Oh, please don't tell me you've passed out, too!"
It took Kate a second to realize she'd managed to land them on the bed. Another second for Laura's frantic voice to penetrate the haze of pain radiating from her shoulder. And several more to become fully aware of the awkwardness—no, the sheer wrongness—of her current position on the bed.
Their incapacitated guest was lying atop her. His nose was smooshed against the curve of her right breast, his nude body pressed against her length, and one of his legs had found its way between hers so that her thigh cushioned his...
Well.
Kate’s face flamed.
"I'm fine," she growled at her sister, fighting her way out from under the weight holding her against the mattress.
"Stop!" Laura squealed.
Kate froze in mid shove. "What?"
Their patient began sliding off the edge of the bed. Kate gritted her teeth and clutched him close.
"You're going to start the bleeding again," her sister said. "Just wait a second."
Laura grasped fistfuls of the bedspread and pulled it taut. "All right. Ease out from under him, but try to keep him from sliding any more. I'll pull him back onto the bed."
When their patient was secure once more, Kate picked herself up from the floor and rubbed her throbbing shoulder. A few more times rescuing this guy and the desk duty she'd been temporarily assigned to would become permanent. She glowered at the man on the bed. He was out cold. Or was he?
"Idiot," she muttered.
Not so much as a flinch rippled over his skin at the insult. Yup. Out cold, all right, because he was way too volatile not to react to that. She watched her sister fuss over the wounds that had started oozing again, careful to keep her attention on Laura’s dark, bent head and not certain exposed anatomical features.
"Will he live?" she asked. As discreetly as she could, she reached back to shift her handgun over an inch or two in her jeans waistband, trying not to wince. Great. Now she was going to have a massively sore shoulder and a gun-shaped bruise in the small of her back.
Laura regarded her. "You sound as if you'd rather he didn't."
Kate sighed. "Of course not. I'm just pissed at him right now. I thought you said he wouldn't be able to get up."
"I didn't think he could." Laura turned her attention back to the torso hole, taping a bandage over it. "He has to be some determined to get out of here."
Please.
Kate shoved away the memory of his plea. She grimaced down at her shirt, streaked with dried mud and fresh blood. Her shoulder throbbed with a steady, teeth-on-edge ache.
"How bad is it?" Laura asked.
She didn't pretend not to understand. "On a scale of one to ten? About a twenty."
"I'm not surprised, after that wrestling match. I'll give you some of what I'm giving him when he wakes up. It'll help you sleep."
"Thanks, but no." Kate held up a hand to forestall the frown gathering on her sister's forehead. "I can't be out of commission tonight, Laura. Not with him in the house."
"You really think he's that much of a threat?"
"Honestly, no."
"Then who—" Laura broke off and swallowed. "The people who shot him."
Silence followed Kate’s nod. Laura swallowed again, her gaze flicking to the window that overlooked the darkened barnyard beyond. Kate rounded the bed to give her a one-armed hug.
"I'm just being cautious," she said. "Besides, there's a tree blocking the only road, remember? No one's coming through tonight.”
Laura's tense body didn't relax. Kate grinned and gave her a sisterly nudge with her good shoulder.
"Plus," she added, "there's a cop in the house."
An indrawn hiss of breath sounded from the bed. Kate looked over to find the man struggling to sit up, one hand clutching his side, the blanket Laura had pulled over him falling away from the spectacular chest once again. So he hadn't been unconscious after all. Damn, but this guy was good at playing dead.
Laura made to move toward him, but his outstretched hand stopped her. Glittering, cold blue eyes fastened on Kate.
"How did you know?" he snarled.
Kate frowned. "How did I know what?"
"How did you know I—" He stopped, his expression giving way to sudden comprehension.
Down the hall in the kitchen, the phone rang.
For a moment, no one moved. Or spoke.
Kate stared at the furious man on the bed. Tension radiated from him, reminding her of a cornered animal. A cornered but still lethal animal.
The phone shrilled again.
Beside her, Laura shifted her feet. "I should..."
Her voice trailed off.
Another ring.
Without taking her eyes from the man, Kate stepped out of her sister's way.
"Go," she said, tipping her head toward the doorway.
The man's jaw clenched, whitening the lines around his mouth. His gaze darted from Kate and Laura to the doorway, then back again, measuring. Calculating. His mouth twisted. His shoulders slumped. Defeat replaced defiance as the phone rang a fourth and then a fifth time. Laura shoved the roll of gauze and scissors into Kate's hands and started for the doorway.
"Laura."
Kate's sister turned to her.
Please.
"Whoever it is, don't say anything about our guest."
"What? But—"
"Not yet."
Laura studied the man, then looked at Kate again. "You're sure?"
"I want to talk to him first."
Slowly, reluctantly, Laura nodded. After a last, lingering glance at the bed, she hurried down the hallway. A few seconds later, the murmur of her voice floated back to the room, and Kate turned her full attention to the man.
He'd pulled himself up in the bed to a half-sitting position, propped against the smooth wooden headboard. A sheen of sweat covered his torso from the effort, and his breathing sounded ragged. They stared at one another f
or a moment. He looked away.
"Thank you," he said.
"I wouldn't be too grateful just yet," Kate replied. "I'm a heartbeat away from changing my mind unless I get some answers. How did I know what?"
Blue swiveled back to her. Damn, but those eyes of his were intense. Especially when he glowered like that.
"How did you know where to find me? Did they send you?" he growled. He waved off her response before she could form one, and added in a mutter, "No. That doesn't make sense. If they'd sent you, you wouldn't have tried to save my life."
Tried to save his life? She was pretty sure she'd succeeded, given his level of combativeness, and what in hell was he rambling on about, anyway? Kate crossed her arms and took a deep breath, only to exhale again as footsteps in the hall heralded her sister's return.
Laura came into the room, her gaze going between them before settling on Kate. "That was Matt," she said. "Lainie Peterson tore open her forearm on some barbed wire when their cows got loose. The ambulance is already on a call, and it'll take hours to get another. I'm going to have to see her."
"What about the downed tree?"
"They've sent a crew out to open the road for me. They were going to come here to pick me up, but the storm is easing up, and I said it would be faster if I drove. I wasn't sure—" Laura's gaze slid toward the bed.
"Good thinking," Kate said, although she almost wished her sister had done otherwise. At least then the decision about whether to keep her guest a secret would have been taken out of her hands. "Thank you."
Laura pursed her lips, doubt clouding her eyes, but she nodded and turned away to pack her bag, issuing a set of instructions as she did. "You'll need to finish bandaging his leg, and you'll have to change both dressings tomorrow morning. A little redness and swelling is normal, but—"
"Laura."
Her sister stopped. Looked at her. Sighed. "Of course. You know what to do."
She set a vial on the nightstand. "Painkillers. With codeine. There's enough for twenty-four hours for both of you. That's more than long enough to get him to the hospital he needs to be in."
Kate smiled. "Point taken."
"I hope so." Bag in hand, Laura faced her. "See me out?"
The words may have been framed as a request, but they carried the full force of an elder sister pulling rank. Kate paused only to shoot their patient a dark look.
"Stay," she said. "Because if you try getting up again, you'll be spending the night on that floor."
Chapter 6
Laura led the way to the farmhouse's front door in silence. There, she held out her bag for Kate to hold while she put on her coat and rubber boots. Also in silence.
At last, lips pulled into a thin line and arms crossed, she turned. "Please tell me you know what you're doing."
Kate heaved a sigh. "I wish I could."
"You're not instilling me with confidence here. How am I supposed to leave you alone here with—with"—Laura waved a hand at the door down the hallway—"some criminal whose name I don't even know? What if he murders you in your sleep? I won't know who to blame!"
Kate's lips twitched, and her sister's scowl deepened.
"Don't you dare laugh at me, Katherine Anne Dexter! It's not funny, and I'm worried sick about you."
Handing back Laura's bag with one hand, Kate drew her in for a hug with the other.
"I'm sorry, and you're right. It's not funny. But I'll be fine, I promise. And I'm not saying I won't call the OPP. I'm just saying I want to hear what he has to say first."
"Shouldn't he be telling it to the police?"
Kate grinned. Laura swatted her arm.
"You know what I mean. Do you even have jurisdiction here?"
"Ish."
Her sister's eyebrows shot up. "Ish? What kind of answer is ish?"
"The simple version of the complex one."
Kate's sister regarded her for a long moment. Then she sighed. "You're not going to back down on this, are you?"
"Is he in danger of dying if he stays here?"
"No. I've cleaned the wounds and given him a shot of antibiotics. He just needs rest right now. He's strong."
I've noticed.
"Then no, I'm not backing down. I want to know his story before I hand him over."
"Fine." Laura tugged open the front door and stepped out onto the porch. "Have it your way. But keep in mind he's not worth risking your life for. Or your career. All right?"
Please. The single word whispered again through Kate's mind, even as she nodded. She didn’t think her life was in danger, but she had to admit Laura made a good point about not jeopardizing her career because of a few sketchy details and a man with dangerous written all over him.
In neon.
"I'll remember," she said. "Drive carefully, sis, and watch the corner at the end of the drive. It was getting slippery when I came in."
"You have until morning before I call the cops," Laura replied over her shoulder as she descended the stairs. "You know...the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this." She pulled open the door of her Jeep, shoved her bag inside, and climbed into the driver's seat. "And for God's sake," she added, "ask the man his name!"
Kate waved her off, watching until the taillights disappeared down the drive and around the corner onto the road. Then she closed the door and turned to lean on it. Twenty feet away, the bedroom and its occupant waited. With a sigh, she pushed upright, adjusted the handgun at her back, and strode down the hall. Time for answers, whether her guest wanted to give them or not.
***
Staring at the ceiling, Jonas listened to the murmur of female voices floating through the door as he tried to regroup his thoughts. He'd damn near slipped up just now. Come within a heartbeat of letting on he was a cop, only to realize at the last instant that Kate had been speaking of herself.
There's a cop in the house.
Curly-haired, amber-eyed Kate was a cop.
A part of him actually wanted to laugh at the revelation, because what were the odds that Ramirez and Lewis would drop him in the backwoods of Canada somewhere and leave him for dead, and his rescuer would be a bloody cop? Jonas shifted his weight on the bed. Fire seared through his side. The leg wasn't so bad. More of a deep, mind-dulling ache than actual pain, as long as he didn't move it.
Except not moving it wasn't an option, because the idea that his would-be murderers might come back to check on their handiwork just wouldn't go away. And if they did, and he wasn't where they'd left him, they wouldn't leave so much as a blade of grass unturned until they found him.
And if they found him here, with Kate—
Jonas shuddered as an image sprang to mind of lifeless golden eyes in a waxen complexion. No. He wouldn't let that happen. If they had to catch up with him, fine. But they wouldn't catch up with him here.
Inch by inch, he fought his way upright through the swaths of agony until he sat on the edge of the bed, injured leg on fire and extended before him, sheet pulled across his midsection. He took a moment to catch his breath, then grabbed two of the tablets Laura had left behind on the nightstand. Downing them, he reached with trembling fingers to snag his soiled T-shirt from the floor.
The bedroom door opened.
"Seriously?" Kate marched across the room and snatched away the T-shirt. "I told you to—damn it, you're bleeding again!"
"Nothing I can't survive," he said. But the rawness of his voice belied his words, even to his own ears.
"Bullshit. Now do us both a favor and lie down, will you? I meant it when I said I can't pick you up off the floor again if you get into trouble."
Jonas caught Kate's hand in mid-air as it aimed for his shoulder. He held her wrist just tight enough to warn her not to try to break his grip, hoping she wouldn't feel the slight tremor in his touch. Wanting only to collapse onto his back again.
"Listen to me," he said. "I know you mean well, but you don't know these people. If they come after me, if they find me here—" He took a deep breath, trying to
offset the weird spaciness claiming his brain. He forced himself to continue. “I don't want you to get hurt, Kate, and I can't protect you. Not like this."
Something in the golden gaze softened for a second, but it vanished again quickly.
"You heard the part about me being a cop, right? Believe me, I can look after myself."
That meant she was armed, or at least had a weapon in the house. His gaze skimmed the loose fit of her plaid shirt over jeans, but he detected no outline of a handgun beneath it. He gripped the slender wrist a little tighter, measuring her resistance. Wondering how far he'd get if he tried to overpower her. He could tie her up, maybe. Take her car keys...
"Wanna bet you wouldn't make it as far as the front door?"
"What?"
Gentle fingers pried his hand from her wrist with a demoralizing lack of effort.
"You're thinking of making a run for it. I'm advising you not to." Kate stooped to lift his leg and ease it back onto the bed, giving him no choice but to subside against the pillows. She placed a fresh bandage over his leg wound. "Here. You may as well give in gracefully and hold this."
"I don't do graceful," he muttered, but he put his hand over the bandage anyway, his fingers brushing hers.
"I noticed." She lifted the vial of pills from the nightstand. "Now, how many of these things do you want?"
"Enough to put me out of my misery?" he suggested. Irritably, he waved his free hand at her. "I already took two. I should probably quit at that."
Without comment, Kate set down the pills again and reached for a roll of first aid tape. She unrolled a strip as long as her forearm and clipped it off.
"You don't have to do that," he said. "I'm sure I can manage."
Her skeptical look made words unnecessary. Jonas flinched as she settled the tape along one edge of the bandage he held. Her touch set off an excruciating reverberation in the otherwise steady throb of pain. He closed his eyes to mere slits, hiding his weakness from her. Kate wrapped the tape around the leg and smoothed it into place. A tingle ran down his thigh that had nothing to do with pain. His eyes shot open again.
Shadow of Doubt Page 3
