But as the exchange continued, she figured it out. Anderson was trying to buy them a little time.
“Do friendly favors usually involve breaking the law?” he asked next.
C’mon, she said to herself. Use the time to come up with something.
But she was drawing a frustrating blank, and it was impossible to mute the conversation.
“Interesting.” Dr. Salinger’s tone was heavy with sarcasm. “You’re okay with blackmail but draw the line at me offering my medical services to those who might otherwise not be able to get help.”
“Tell yourself whatever you need to in order to sleep at night,” Anderson replied. “Yanking out bullets from crooks and fabricating stories about car accidents aren’t exactly things I’d label as answering to a higher calling.”
“My well-lined pockets keep my conscience clear. And before you get all self-righteous, you might want to consider the fact that I’m the reason your girlfriend’s alive at all.” He smiled darkly. “You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe it. Without me, she would’ve found her way to a quick grave.”
The arrogant statement tickled at Nadine’s mind. An idea—rough but picking up traction quickly—was starting to form.
She cleared her throat, drawing the doctor’s attention with the interruption. “I’m thankful that I didn’t die in the hospital, but I’m not going to give you credit for it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Someone else give you an amnesia diagnosis that I don’t know about?”
She shook her head. “No one else gave me a diagnosis. But it wasn’t you who kept me alive for the last ten years. It was my brother. Knowing what he knew...”
“Knowing what he knew,” he repeated.
She dropped her gaze to meet Anderson’s eyes for the briefest second, hoping he’d read her again and know that she had a plan, and that—even if he couldn’t possibly pinpoint what it was—he’d play along. He offered her the barest nod, and she breathed out.
“Yes,” she said to Dr. Salinger. “Blackmail is what kept your ‘friend’ from killing me. Not your word. And the fact that my brother was smart enough to record it is what’s keeping you alive now, as well.”
Anderson gave a more noticeable nod. “It’s true. The second your so-called friend gets his hands on the evidence, he’ll destroy it. Then he’ll kill you, too.”
“Stop messing around,” the doctor snapped. “Whatever it is, hand it over.”
“It’s a USB stick,” Anderson told him. “And it’s in the left-hand pocket of my jeans. Don’t shoot me when I reach for it.”
“Slowly,” Dr. Salinger cautioned.
Nadine inhaled. For a second, she thought her plan was going to work. Anderson would shift just enough that the doctor would need to pay extra attention to what he was doing. Nadine would feign a stumble. The two things would divide their captor’s focus for just long enough that one of them could make a move. But before she could even let out the breath she held, the doctor spoke again.
“Wait.”
Anderson paused, the tips of his fingers just at the edge of his pocket. “What?”
“Why are you willing to give it up so easily?”
Nadine wanted to cry, but she forced herself to speak calmly. “You said it yourself. I care about him too much to risk letting anything happen.”
“You’re not a fantastic liar, Ms. Stuart. It’s one of the reasons I was so sure your memory loss was real.” The doctor jabbed the gun against Anderson’s head a little. “It’s not about him this time. It’s something else.”
The ominous silence that hung in the air after he said it allowed just enough time for a light buzz to cut through. Nadine frowned. She noted that their captor did, too. But Anderson’s expression wasn’t puzzled at all. Instead, it was the facial manifestation of a groan. Annoyed and regretful and a touch of guilt all at the same time. And when the buzz sounded again, Nadine knew why. It was Anderson’s phone, sounding from the very same pocket where his hand rested.
The doctor figured it out pretty quickly, too.
“Who the hell’s calling you?” His snarl was laced with well-warranted suspicion, and Nadine braced herself for things to unravel.
* * *
Anderson stood very still, cursing his stupidly bad luck. He kept his phone on silent. Always. Why the hell it had managed to shift from its usually still mode to the vibrate function was beyond him.
No time to dwell on it now. Only time to act.
He made himself speak calmly. “I was expecting a call from a friend. He wouldn’t know that he was interrupting a negotiation.”
“This isn’t a negotiation,” Salinger snapped. “Give me the USB stick. And the damned phone, too.”
Moving slowly—and with another apologetic look in Nadine’s direction—Anderson stuck his hand the rest of the way into his pocket. He dragged out both his cell and the thumb drive, then extended his arm so that the doctor could take them. The other man snatched them away.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Anderson muttered.
“Shut up.”
Salinger stepped to the side, and for the first time, Anderson got a good look at him. He’d recognized the guy’s voice, of course, from listening to its pretentious tone at the lodge. Now that he could see him, he wanted to curl his lip in disgust. Anderson didn’t mind wealth. He appreciated nice things as much as anyone, and had a list of things he’d buy if he ever won the lottery. Something about the way Salinger wore it, though, bothered him. The way the too-expensive shoes dug into the mud without care. The way he had just a hint of tan, which was just as likely to have been acquired from a tropical vacation as it was to have been gained from a salon. Even the way he continued to hold up his weapon as he lifted the phone and studied the screen set Anderson’s teeth on edge.
“See anything you like?” he asked irritably.
The other man lowered the phone. “I want to know who you are.”
“Blake Smith,” Anderson stated.
“Yeah. And I’m the queen of England.”
“I’ve got a driver’s license to prove it.”
“Ninety percent of the teenage population has a fake ID,” Salinger pointed out.
“Do I look like a teenager who needs a fake ID?” Anderson countered.
“The problem is...I can’t figure out what you look like. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re involved with Ms. Stuart here. It’s just that I can’t decide what came first. Your relationship or your involvement in my friend’s business.”
The slight cock of the other man’s head made Anderson realize what it was that irked him so badly. It wasn’t the arrogance itself. Or even the smugness. It wasn’t even the fact that the doctor was doing just the opposite of what he’d sworn to do with his life. It was the casualness. The man was a cavalier know-it-all who really ought to know better.
Anderson’s jaw tried to clench as he forced out an equally blasé response. “I don’t care at all about your friend’s business. So if that’s your only concern...”
Salinger narrowed his eyes and glanced at the phone again. “Would Harley agree with that statement?”
“Yes.”
“So if I called him and asked, he’d have no idea what I was talking about.”
“That’s right.”
“Harley doesn’t know anything!” The words burst from Nadine like she couldn’t help it. A far too obvious lie. Anderson turned to shoot her a warning look—a silent plea to keep quiet, too—but when he met her eyes, he saw that her gaze was clear. The denial was a ruse. And Salinger was buying it.
The gun pointed at Anderson’s head relaxed marginally as the other man addressed Nadine.
“Stop lying to me,” he said. “Tell me what Harley knows.”
“I’m not lying,” Nadine replied, her voice infused
with clear deception.
“You’re underestimating my ability to see through you. Keep it up, and I might just decide that shooting your boyfriend is the best way to get you to talk.” At odds with Salinger’s words, the gun slipped even more.
Nadine wobbled, and her next statement came out in a matching, wobbly tone. “You wouldn’t.”
The doctor was all the more smug. “I would.”
Nadine swayed. Anderson tensed. Nadine wiped her brow.
“I don’t feel so—”
Her words cut off as she toppled to the ground. A hundred percent certain that it was a trick, Anderson continued to hold still. The same couldn’t be said of the other man. Salinger stepped forward—maybe in response to some ingrained doctor habit that he hadn’t yet weeded out—and started to bend toward Nadine’s prone form. The gun dropped to hip level, its muzzle pointed away.
Now! urged a voice in Anderson’s head.
He leaped into action. The weapon was his primary target. Without it, the only tool Salinger had was his wits, and Anderson was sure those were dulled by overconfidence. So he dropped low and sprang forward, his hand aiming an open-palmed jab at the doctor’s gun-wielding side. At the last second, though, the other man clued in. He flung his arm backward—just out of reach.
Anderson came at him again, this time with a fist trained on the man’s solar plexus. The blow grazed the doctor’s stomach, and Salinger stumbled. Frustratingly, he still managed to retain a hold on the weapon. Even though he was flailing to stay on his feet, his expression was triumphant. It was also fixed on Anderson, and that was a miscalculation. Just as he made a move to swing the gun around, an attack came from below.
Anderson fought his own need to be smug as he took a small step back to watch as Nadine took down the doctor. The other man didn’t stand a chance. Her lithe legs were already wrapped around his shin and, with a twist, she sent him toppling over. The gun flew free. It sailed through the air and landed with a thunk in the mud a few feet from the aftermath of Nadine’s maneuvers.
Trusting Nadine to keep Salinger at bay—Anderson had personally seen the effectiveness of her moves, after all—he strode across the ground and snagged the weapon. When he had it in his grasp, he turned and pointed it at Salinger, who was now lying with his arms over his head while Nadine pressed a knee to his throat.
“What I wouldn’t give for a set of handcuffs,” Anderson muttered, his eyes flicking around in search of some alternative.
“Your belt?” Nadine suggested.
“Genius. Can you keep holding him while I take it off?”
“One wrong move and his windpipe’ll be crushed.”
“Perfect.”
Anderson made short work of freeing the leather from his waist, then stepped closer to the fallen man. In a few quick moves, he flipped the doctor over, secured his hands behind his back and dragged him to his knees. Fixing his darkest smile at Salinger, he opened his mouth to speak, but a noisy buzz cut him off. His phone was vibrating, the slim electronic device sliding along a flat rock just a yard from his booted feet. Even from where he stood, he could see Harley’s name flashing across the screen.
“I feel like you should get that,” Nadine said.
Anderson sighed because his gut was telling him the same thing. He held out the gun.
“Point it at his head. I do want to ask him some questions, but if he so much as breathes the wrong way...”
“I’ll shoot,” she promised.
He aimed a look at Salinger. “I wouldn’t test her.” Then he bent to grab the still-buzzing cell, clicking it on as he lifted it to his ear. “Better be good, Harley.”
“Why?” replied his friend. “Is this a bad time for some semi-decent news?”
“Wish I could say no, but I’m covered in mud, have a guy tied up with my belt and my girlfriend is in charge of a firearm.”
“I can’t even digest all of that. Do you have the upper hand?”
“For the moment,” Anderson said drily. “So you better just hit me with the news.”
“I was able to trace those tip calls that came in to the Whispering Woods PD.” Harley sounded so pleased with himself that Anderson couldn’t help but smile.
“Do I even wanna know how?” he asked.
“A combination of charm and skill.”
“So where did the tips come from?”
“The Whispering Woods care center.”
Anderson glanced toward the doctor, who was sitting obediently still, his eyes not leaving the gun.
“I wish I could say that surprises me,” he told Harley.
“I feel kind of let down that it doesn’t. Especially considering how damn quickly I put it together. How did you figure it out?”
“It kind of snuck up on me with a gun. Literally. Now he’s sitting here, waiting oh so patiently for me to question him. So I should probably—”
“Wait. Him?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a Dr. Salinger here. He was one of Nadine’s physicians after the Main Street bombing.”
Harley next words were infused with a mix of confusion and concern. “That’s all well and good, but the person who left the tips was female.”
Anderson frowned. “You’re sure?”
“A hundred percent. You’re sure the person you have is a man?”
“Funny, Harley.”
His mind was already working through explanations and dismissing them as implausible. Had Salinger hired someone? It seemed too risky. So was it another person working for Garibaldi? That seemed more likely. But a little too obvious, maybe, to call from the care center.
Holding the phone away from his ear a little and keeping his voice neutral, he turned to Salinger. “Let me ask you something.”
“Ask whatever you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
Anderson fought a need to point out just how ridiculous the response was, and instead said, “This is an easy one, Salinger. You working with a woman?”
The man’s face went from sullen to confused. “What?”
“A woman. You’ve heard about them, right? Sugar and spice?”
“I know what a damned woman is. Why the hell would I be working with one?”
Satisfied that the doctor was genuinely baffled, Anderson made a dismissive noise, then brought his attention back to Harley. “The tipster isn’t someone he knows.”
His friend paused before answering. “Something about that rubs me the wrong way.”
“Me, too.”
Anderson’s mind started working again, trying hard to grasp pieces of a puzzle that seemed just out of reach. Then a thought jumped out, and it stuck.
Salinger’s a scapegoat. And whoever’s trying to frame Nadine is trying to frame him, too.
“Anderson, you still there?”
Harley’s voice seemed very faraway, and in spite of the fact that they were in a somewhat-covered area, Anderson was filled with a feeling of exposure. A need to run from some unseen, unknown force. Most importantly, to get Nadine out of sight.
“I have to go,” he said into the phone.
He clicked it off before his friend could get in another word and jammed the device into his pocket quickly. He tugged Nadine a couple of steps away—still well within view of Salinger, but far enough that he could speak so only she could hear.
“We need to get out of here,” he said in a low voice.
Her pretty brown eyes filled with puzzlement as they flicked from him to the doctor and back again. “What? Why? What about him?”
Anderson ran a hand over his hair. He was genuinely torn between dragging the man along with them and simply leaving him behind. The latter was potentially dangerous. The former would slow them down, and there wasn’t exactly a place for him on the ATV.
“We’ll have to leave him,” he finally said, and reached out his han
d.
She still looked puzzled, but nodded anyway.
He turned to face Salinger. “Sorry, Doctor. Trust me when I say I’d like to continue this conversation, but we’ve run out of time.”
“You can’t be serious,” Salinger said from his position on the ground. “You’re leaving me here?”
“Got more important things to worry about.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Anderson realized just how true they were. For the first time in fifteen years, he’d found something far more important to do than seek justice for his father’s murder.
With that at the forefront of his mind, he threaded his fingers through Nadine’s and resolved to pass on everything he knew about the case to Harley and Rush. They would have enough to work with. Enough to push on. Not that he would walk away completely. He just wanted time enough to elope. To honeymoon. Maybe to pick out a cabin in the woods somewhere that they didn’t have to keep looking over their shoulders.
“Anderson?” Nadine pushed.
“I love you, honey.” He gave her hand a tug. “Let’s go.”
But they made it no more than five steps before a deafening gunshot echoed through the woods.
Chapter 20
The single sharp shot was loud enough that Nadine’s ear rang and her eyes watered. She knew the shooter had to be very, very close. And for a second, the terrifying realization made the world do its best to grind to a halt. Even though Anderson’s arms slid around her just a heartbeat after the gunshot sounded, their dive to the ground felt like it was underwater.
Anderson cocooned her body with his, so warm and comforting that she wanted it to last forever. Vaguely she could hear his voice. But she couldn’t make out the words no matter how she strained. Then he peeled away and everything sped up again.
Nadine lifted her head, blinking frantically in search of something—she didn’t know what, anything maybe—to restore order to the chaos. Instead, her new view only made things worse.
Just a few feet away sat Dr. Salinger.
No, Nadine realized quickly. Not Dr. Salinger. Dr. Salinger’s body.
His form was slumped sideways, his jaw slack. His eyes were wide and vacant, the life gone from them completely. As Nadine stared at him in horror, she couldn’t quite drag her gaze away from the crimson splotch in the center of the doctor’s chest. It had overtaken most of his torso, spreading its inky stain over his white shirt.
Undercover Protector Page 22
