It was a long, slow kiss that kindled feelings I thought were long forgotten, if indeed ever experienced. When he drew back, he regarded me with a warmth and concern that overpowered me.
“Does that answer any of your questions?” he whispered.
I felt need and longing rise up through my body, as if coming from some deep and unfathomable place inside myself. In that one instant, the Sophie Mazaratti that I wished to become was born. I slowly stretched my arm out, bringing it up along the side of his face, letting my fingers stroke the sharp angle of his cheekbone. I smiled as my hand circled his neck, pulling him back down to me, watching as his face drew closer and his lips parted. And then the new Sophie Mazaratti kissed Gray Evans right back, with all of the passion and desire that had been waiting forever to bubble up and escape.
“Yes,” I said at last, “that answers quite a few questions.”
Gray smiled and pulled me even closer. “Good,” he said. “I am all for open and honest communication.”
He was pulling me down onto the couch when the bullet tore through the window, passing right through the spot where we had been standing and slamming into the wall next to the dining room doorway.
“Shit!” He shoved me down onto the floor, covering me with his body. “Damn!” He was feeling for his holster and not finding it. “I left the fucking gun in the duffel bag! Stay here!”
Gray pulled the heavy coffee table across my body like a barricade, yanked the lamp cord out of its socket and began doing a frog crawl across the room in the general direction of his bag.
I heard the zipper slide and the sound of him fumbling around in the darkened room for his weapon. Without a word, he was on his feet and gone, running toward the back of the house. I heard the soft click of the back door and knew he was outside.
I couldn’t just lie there and wait to see what happened next. I rose up, crouched low and looked around the dark room for a weapon. Nick Komassi was about to learn just how much his ex-wife had grown up since he’d been gone.
I snatched a candlestick off the mantel and made my way toward the door, staying low and away from the front window. In the distance I heard a siren start up and begin moving toward the house. Outside there was absolute silence and then the sound of muffled footsteps crossing the front porch. I gripped the candlestick tightly, bracing myself in the first defensive Krav Maga stance Vinny had ever taught me.
My heart was beating so hard I figured even Nick would hear it. I crept toward the front door and stopped. The doorknob rattled softly. I held my breath, raised the candlestick and got ready. The door began to give and slowly open.
The sound of footsteps, running along the far side of the house and down the narrow passageway that separated my house from my neighbor’s, stopped the intruder’s progress through the front door.
“Tony,” a low voice called. “Cops. Let’s go.”
The front door clicked shut, someone ran to the edge of the porch and then I heard a dull thud as the intruder jumped, landing beside the living room window. Who was Tony? I wondered.
“Shit!” a male voice called, not Nick. “Down the side. Go out the back way!”
I didn’t wait. I ran out the front door and down the steps, chasing the intruders around the house. Car doors slammed somewhere behind me and the blue lights of an arriving patrol car lit the path as I ran. Where was Gray?
“Stop! Police!” a male voice yelled in the distance. It was not Gray. Another set of footsteps pounded somewhere behind me.
Where was Gray? I felt my heart clutch and the blood rush to my ears as I darted along the house and burst out into the backyard.
“Gray?” I called.
I sprinted up the porch steps and hit the outside light switch. The area around the porch and the top of the driveway were illuminated in an instant, but Gray was nowhere to be seen.
I heard something rustle behind the garage and heard a soft moan. I went toward the sound without even considering that it might not be Gray. I knew it was him. He was trying to move, struggling to rise as I reached him.
“Wait,” I said, kneeling down beside him. “Let me help you.”
“Sophie, look out!”
I barely had time to react. A shadowy form tore across the backyard heading straight for us. I half rose from my crouch, stepped forward and tucked my body into a low, tight ball. The man flew into me before he could stop himself, hurtling over me and landing with a loud thud on the ground a few feet away from Gray.
I sprang up and lunged for him, just missing his leg as he rolled, stood and ran off into the alley. A cop in uniform, running hard, came racing around the house and stopped, gun drawn and trained on my body.
“Freeze!”
“Wait, she’s the home owner,” Gray called.
The officer kept his gun on me, but reached with his other hand to pull his flashlight from his equipment belt. The beam passed over me to the spot on the ground where Gray sat, struggling to rise to his feet.
I went to him, kneeling down and holding out one hand to keep him where he was. My hand traveled up the side of his arm, across his shoulder and toward his head. He was bleeding and my fingers came away covered in the warm, sticky liquid.
“You’re hurt. Sit still. Did he shoot you?”
Gray moaned and tried to stand despite my attempts to keep him down. “No. There were two of them. I came out, saw the one guy running and started to take off after him. Something hit me as I passed the garage, and that’s all I remember.”
He looked at the officer who stood in front of us and said, “Check the alley.” When the man had gone, Gray reached up and felt the back of his head. “Shit, that hurts like a son of a bitch!”
Blue lights from another squad car lit up the driveway as more units began to arrive. Gray managed to stand and walk out from behind the garage, leaning on me for support. When he saw a K-9 officer standing beside the car with his German shepherd, he stopped, identified himself and then broke away from me to approach the car on his own.
The first officer returned, out of breath and gesturing toward the public housing complex that stood a short distance away from my house.
“I chased them as far as Front Street,” he panted. “There was a car waiting so I lost them.”
“You get a license number?” Gray asked.
The officer shook his head. His silver nameplate identified him as L. Reid. “No. It was a black sedan, maybe a Ford, with tinted windows.”
“You get a look at the guys?” Gray asked.
By now both officers were staring at him. I stepped up behind him and touched his arm. “Gray, you’re bleeding. You’d better get that looked at.”
He shrugged it off. “It’s nothing. Just a scalp wound. I’m fine.”
Officer Reid and I exchanged glances. Gray was going to need stitches and X-rays, a fact that seemed obvious to everyone but Gray.
“Did you get a look at the men?” he continued.
The K-9 officer moved toward the side of the house with his dog. I noticed him talking into his radio and hoped he was calling an ambulance.
“You know, I thought heading toward the Projects, they’d be kids, a break-in, but these were older white men,” Reid said. “I’d put them in their mid-thirties, one pretty skinny but muscular, wearing a dark T-shirt and black pants. The other guy was shorter, kind of squat. I’d say he went about five-eight but was built like a pro wrestler. He was carrying a sawed-off shotgun—at least that’s what it looked like. I never did get very close.”
I started to tell Gray about the man at the school but stopped when I saw that he was in too much pain to focus. His features were pinched and his skin was almost white.
“Do you want to finish this inside?” I asked. “It might be easier to write up your report at the kitchen table. Maybe you’d like some water or coffee.” I directed this remark to Officer Reid, because I knew if I asked Gray he would say no, he was fine.
The young guy didn’t pick up on it. He deferred
to Gray.
“I could put a bandage on that wound while you start the report,” I said pointedly.
The EMS squad turned the corner and pulled up in the middle of the street, lights flashing but no siren on, probably in an attempt to keep a low profile. It didn’t matter; the neighbors were all outside, anyway.
“Sophie,” Bill, from next door, called. “Pretty soon we won’t have to bother turning on the TVs anymore. We’ll just come outside every night and wait!” The guy was starting to grow on me. “Really, are you all right? I called when I heard the shot.”
“I’m fine, Bill. Thanks. I keep trying to top each night’s performance, but I don’t know, this may be as good as it gets.”
Bill shook his head, and his partner, a slim man with tight jeans, moved up beside him. “Just so you don’t go into reruns,” Bill’s partner said. “I just hate summer reruns.”
Bill shushed him and said, “Seriously, Sophie, if you need anything we’re here.”
His partner nodded. “Yeah, honey, stop by for a piña colada later and bring the boy toy with you.”
I laughed and turned back to Gray. His face had gone completely white. As I watched, he suddenly seemed to sink. I reached for him just as his knees started to give. Officer Reid moved forward, catching Gray’s other arm. Together we helped him down the driveway to the waiting ambulance.
Gray tried with every fiber in his being not to give over to the pain and blood loss. He bit his bottom lip, tried to remain conscious and tried to walk. I knew better than to show any emotion. I knew he needed to stay strong.
“I think it was the shock,” he murmured.
“Shock?” I echoed.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I knew you wanted me. I just didn’t know he did, too.” He sighed. “So many people, so little of me to go around.”
“Hey,” I said, in an equally quiet voice, “he’s going to have to take a number. I think I’m ahead of him.”
We reached the ambulance and the waiting stretcher as Wendell Arrow stepped out of his unmarked car and walked quickly toward us.
“You finally had enough of him, huh?” he asked me. “Hell, you could’ve just called. I would’ve come and dragged him out.”
I looked at Gray. His eyes were closed and I wasn’t sure if he was even conscious. “May I ride with him?” I asked.
Wendell looked around, took in the scene and nodded. His expression was grave and his eyes full of compassion as he looked from Gray’s still face to mine. “Yeah, go on. I’ll tend to things here. I’ll call Darlene if you want, get her to come over and lock up. We’ll ride out to the hospital as soon as I clear things here and check on his status.”
An hour later I was sitting on a cold plastic chair in a sterile cubicle, separated from the rest of the emergency room patients by a thin yellow curtain that stopped two feet from the floor.
I sat there, motionless, listening to the sounds of the emergency room world. A baby cried, an old man coughed with a dry hack that ended in a long choking gasp for breath, two women in the cubicle next to mine discussed “pain in the female area,” and down the hallway another woman laughed, her voice carrying all the way from the nurses’ station.
What if he isn’t so lucky next time? a little voice inside my head asked. What if you fall in love with this man and he gets killed trying to save the world? What will you do then? I felt myself begin to shiver. I was freezing. The only warmth in the entire room came from the hot tears that finally began, spilling over and running down the sides of my face.
Chapter 9
Darlene arrived before Gray made it back from his CT scan. I recognized her as she paused outside the curtained examination area, her unmistakably big toes unpainted and wiggling in her Birkenstock sandals.
“Number two?” she muttered to herself. “Or did she say three? They don’t number the flippin’ things, so how do you tell? Do you count from down there or up here?”
“Darlene,” I said, pulling open the curtain, “in here.”
“Good gravy,” she said. “I thought they’d swallowed you guys up forever.” Then she caught sight of the empty gurney. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! He’s not—”
“No, Darlene, he’s not dead. They’re doing tests.”
Darlene snorted. “Well, you can’t blame me for wondering. I mean, look at you, your eyes are all red and puffy, fourteen hundred tissues by your side. I thought—”
I raised my hand like a traffic cop. “All right, it’s okay. He’s having a CAT scan. Where’s Wendell? I thought he was coming.”
Darlene’s face softened. “He had to answer a page. He should be here any minute.” Without probably even realizing it, she broke into a broad smile. Somehow Darlene had fallen back in love with lonesome Wendell.
“So you two straightened things out?” I asked.
Her smile widened. “He apologized, and anyway, once he told me Gray was hurt and you needed me, I knew he had come to his senses.” She glanced toward the hallway, looking for Wendell, and then leaned in toward me. “He’s a Libra. I should’ve realized. They’re so full of indecision. He was probably just thrown off by everything happening so quickly. It’s his nature, you know. He needs to be kept on track.”
Oh, that would be the blind leading the blind, I thought. “Well, I’m glad it worked out.”
Darlene swept the crumpled tissues off the chair next to mine and into a trash can. She sank down onto the hard plastic seat and sighed gratefully. “I needed that,” she said. “I’ve been standing up all day.” She stretched her feet out in front of her and studied them. “Let’s go get pedicures this Saturday,” she said. “I want some color down there. I want—” she leaned out and made another quick scan of the hallway “—I want sexy toes,” she whispered, her eyebrows wiggling with the sheer wickedness of her thoughts.
There was movement in the hallway as an orderly turned the corner, pulling Gray on a long, slender gurney. His eyes were open and his color was better. As they passed the nurses’ station, a doctor fell in behind them.
“All right,” he said, sounding cheerful. “No fractures, just a concussion.” He leaned over Gray and glanced toward me. “Gave your fiancée quite a scare there, fella!”
“Fiancée?” Darlene and Gray both said in the same breath.
“Oh honey,” I said, jumping to my feet, “that must’ve been some whack you took if you’ve forgotten about the wedding next week! You know,” I added, “they usually don’t let nonfamily members back with the patients, but when I told them about the wedding and said we were as good as married, they let me in.”
“Oh, my God!” Darlene cried. “I am so happy for you two! Did you hear that, sweetie?” Darlene turned to the arriving Wendell and clutched his hand. “Sophie and Gray are getting married!”
Gray looked at me, his eyes twinkling, understanding the situation immediately. He grinned broadly, grabbed me and pulled me down into a long passionate embrace that included a very thorough kiss and an overly familiar pinch of my posterior.
“Honey,” he said, “there is no way on this earth that I could forget our upcoming nuptials.” He smiled up at the doctor and winked. “We’re planning a very large family, you know.”
The doctor laughed. “Well then,” he said, “we’d best get you sewn up so you can get to work, especially with that wedding only a week off.” He shook his head. “You know, a police officer’s wife has to have nerves of steel, just for rare occasions like this one.”
Gray nodded, searching my face, obviously taking in my swollen, bloodshot eyes and red nose. “Oh, she’s a brave one,” he said softly. “They don’t come much stronger than Sophie.”
A nurse came in with a tray and looked at Wendell, Darlene and me.
“I think you three better wait outside,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes these hero types are the biggest babies when it comes to stitching them up.”
Gray moaned. “You are going to deaden it before you start sewing, aren�
�t you?” he said. I looked at him. His eyes were sparkling again.
“Nope,” she said, placing the tray down next to the doctor. “A big he-man like you can take a little bit of pain. It builds character.”
Dr. Davis chuckled. “Jean just loves to torture her patients,” he said, lifting a syringe.
Jean shooed us off. The last thing I heard her say was, “Hey, Doc, let’s have a little fun and embroider our initials at the bottom. Gray wouldn’t mind that, would you, hon?”
Twenty minutes later the door to the emergency room swung open and Gray emerged in a wheelchair, propelled by the nurse and clearly not happy about his confinement.
“I can walk, you know, Jean. You don’t have to follow protocol with me. I’m in and out of here all the time.”
“And this time you’re out of here in a wheelchair,” she said, her tone not allowing any margin for error on his part.
“Car’s right out front,” Wendell said.
The doctor stopped me as our little procession headed toward the exit. “I gave him something for pain,” he said. “But in a few hours it’ll wear off and he might get uncomfortable.” He handed me a small bottle. “These are for pain. Now I want you to watch him tonight. Wake him up every couple of hours. If you can’t rouse him, we’ll need to get him back in. Okay?”
He patted me on the shoulder and I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. But he was already gone, walking through the swinging doors and on to his next patient.
I turned away and hurried to catch up with Gray and the others. I didn’t figure it was going to be difficult to wake Gray up every couple of hours. I didn’t think there was any way in the world I would sleep, not with all that had gone on. I was too wound up.
Wendell and the nurse got Gray settled into the back seat of Wendell’s unmarked Lincoln. Once Darlene and I climbed inside and the doors closed, Wendell looked in the rearview mirror.
Sophie’s Last Stand Page 13
