“Lipstick,” I said, showing her the cylinder.
She relaxed a little. I was feeling pretty good, until I twisted off the cap and realized I’d pulled out the wrong canister. Pepper spray in one pocket, tiny knife in the other. I’d wanted the spray; this was the knife.
I managed a weak smile. “Wrong color.”
I dropped it back down, and fumbled for the other one. Denise Seaver watched me narrowly. “See?” I pulled out the other cylinder and untwisted the cap. “I’m just going to...”
I lifted the tiny can of pepper spray and took aim, desperately trying to make it look like I was getting ready to touch up my lips. She caught on about a second too soon, and the spray hit her face at the same time as she pulled the trigger on the gun. Maybe one was a result of the other, or maybe it was a reflex. I’m not really sure. I threw myself sideways, hoping to avoid the bullet, but as it turns out, it’s hard to guess where someone’s aiming. Either that, or I didn’t move fast enough.
Granted, it could have been a lot worse. At first, all I felt was a sort of punch to the shoulder. It took a few seconds before it started to hurt. But then it really hurt.
I didn’t have time to worry about it, though. Denise Seaver had dropped the gun and was clawing at her face, keening. The gun was on the floor a few feet away, and I threw myself at it, skidding right into Marley on the way, sending her sliding across the tile. She ended up bumping her head again, this time on the stove. But the new injury on top of the old one elicited a weak moan, so at least I knew she was still alive.
I scooped up the gun one-handed, and turned to face Dr. Seaver, and that’s what I was doing when the back door exploded inward and a group of men burst through. In the lead was Cletus Johnson, one of Bob Satterfield’s deputies, and right behind him was my brother. The third man stepped across Marley’s prone body and gathered me in his arms. “You’re safe now. I’m here. I’ll take care of you, Savannah.”
Chapter 23
“And that’s what happened,” Todd said two hours later, after explaining to me that Dix had called him and he’d called Cletus and all three of them had gotten to Denise Seaver’s place as fast as they could considering that Dix had had to make arrangements for Abigail and Hannah before he could leave home.
By this point I was in the hospital. Again. For the second time in a week.
A different hospital this time, and for a very different reason.
And guess what? Painful as the miscarriage had been, physically speaking, being shot was worse. I felt like my shoulder was on fire, and according to Cletus Johnson, who’d been shot once himself, I was actually lucky, because I already had some painkillers in me. If not, I would have felt worse.
He’d called for an ambulance and waited for it to arrive before taking Denise Seaver off to jail. The ambulance took Marley and me to the hospital, where Marley was diagnosed with a concussion—from being hit with the frying pan and then shoved headlong into the stove—while I ended up on the operating table so the doctor could dig the bullet out of my shoulder. That’s when I learned I’d been lucky yet again: the bullet had avoided shattering any bones, so healing wouldn’t be as God-awful as it might have been otherwise.
I came away from the experience with a whole new admiration for Rafe, and that’s saying something, when I practically worshipped the ground he walked on. But he’d been shot in the shoulder two months ago, just about in the same spot where I’d been shot now—if we ever got back together, we’d have matching scars—but where I felt pretty certain I was at death’s door at the moment, he’d seemed absolutely fine when it happened to him. He’d turned a little pale when Wendell poked at his shoulder, but he hadn’t punched him. And that’s what I wanted to do to anyone who came too close to me.
Dix had carefully refrained from touching me when he leaned in to tell me he had to head back to the girls. “Jonathan’s with them. But he wants to go back to his own family. And Abby and Hannah need me. Things are scary enough for them right now, without daddy disappearing too.”
I nodded. “Go. I’m fine. Thank you for coming when you did.”
“I’m just sorry it took so long,” Dix said.
“It’s all right. I had it under control.”
“So we saw.” He grinned. “Anything I can do for you before I leave?”
I had to concentrate hard to get my brain to cooperate. The pain and drugs and everything that had happened had combined into a sort of stew up there. “Could you call Tamara Grimaldi? She’ll want to get her hands on Dr. Seaver, too. I’m sure two murders in Nashville trump a couple of attempted murders and a kidnapping down here.”
“Sure. I have the number; I’ll give her a call.” He leaned in and pecked me on the forehead. “Rest up, sis. I’ll be back in the morning.”
I nodded drowsily. “Keep mom away until then too, if you can.”
Dix promised he’d try, and left. I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes.
I hadn’t given Todd another thought; if anything, I guess I just assumed he went home with Dix. That’s until I opened my eyes again a little later, and found him sitting next to the bed.
“Oh.” I tried to sit up, realized it made my shoulder feel as if someone had jabbed a red-hot poker into it, and slumped back down. “Hi, Todd.”
“Savannah.” He looked uncomfortable. “How do you feel?”
“Like someone shot me,” I said.
Todd grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. But thanks for coming to my rescue.”
He nodded. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, both of us no doubt trying to come up with something to say. I was rather amazed that he was here at all, since the last time I’d seen him, he’d given me the brush-off.
“How did that happen?” I asked eventually. “Dix was too busy to get home to give me any of the details.”
“Oh,” Todd said, his face lightening in relief, “let me tell you.” He went through everything from his point of view, and ended with, “And that’s what happened.”
“Thank you.”
He shook his head. “When we heard the shot, I thought we were too late.”
“I had it under control,” I said, in spite of the bandage over my shoulder and the pain I was in.
Unlike Dix, Todd didn’t smile. Instead he looked deeply into my eyes as he reached for my hand. “I thought I’d lost you.”
I let him take it and hold on, but I kept quiet. There was nothing to say. He’d lost me a long time ago, and not to a bullet, but it wasn’t like I could say that. So I just smiled. Politely.
Todd continued, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. And last week.”
“It’s OK,” I said. “I understand.”
“I just...” He shook his head. “You told me there was nothing going on between the two of you.”
“There wasn’t.” Then.
“You got pregnant!” Todd said.
Right. “It was a mistake. I should have been more careful.” Should have thought about what I was doing, and the consequences I might be dealing with later, instead of being so overwhelmed with what I was feeling that I didn’t think at all. “It won’t happen again.”
Except it already had. We hadn’t used protection the second time either. But I’d already—still—been pregnant then, so it wasn’t like that encounter could result in another pregnancy.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Todd said, and I came back to myself with the realization that we seemed to be talking about different topics. A quick look back over the conversation told me what the problem was—I’d been talking about protection, he’d been talking about my sleeping with Rafe in the first place—but again, it wasn’t like I could tell him. So I smiled, a little stiffly, and remained silent.
“Savannah...” Todd said, squeezing my hand.
Uh-oh.
“Todd.” Better to grab the bull by the horns before
he could propose again. “Listen. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I’m honored that you care so much that you want me to become your wife. But I’m not planning to marry anyone. No time soon.”
Todd sat back and let go of my hand with an impatient huff. “I’m here, Savannah. Next to your bed, pouring my heart out. And where is he?”
“Not here,” I said.
“Right. Did you call him?”
No. And I didn’t plan to.
“He might never come back,” Todd said. “He got what he wanted from you, and now he’s moved on.”
Quite possible. Likely, in fact. “I know that. Can we stop talking about him, please?”
“I just want you to understand—” Todd began.
I overrode him. “I understand, believe me. All he wanted was sex, and now that he’s gotten it, he won’t be back. He didn’t sign on for fatherhood, and once he figured out I was pregnant, he ran as fast and as far as he could. He might never come back. I know. And I don’t want to talk about it. Is that OK with you?”
I didn’t wait for Todd’s murmured agreement before I continued, “So you’ll drop the charges against Marley, right? Now that you know that she didn’t do anything to Oliver?”
“It isn’t quite as easy as that,” Todd demurred, but he added, “We’ll have to work something out, I suppose.”
“I would hope so. You can’t send her to jail for murder when the person she’s supposed to have killed is alive and well and was, in fact, stolen from her.”
“No,” Todd admitted, “I guess we can’t. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
I lay back against the pillows. “Thank you. How is Marley?”
“Resting,” Todd said. “I haven’t been in to see her, but the doctor said she’ll be fine. She got hit pretty hard.”
“It was a cast iron frying pan. Enough to give anyone a concussion.” My eyes were drifting shut even as I struggled to keep them open. “But at least I stopped Dr. Seaver from shooting her.”
“Too bad she shot you instead,” Todd said.
I tried to shrug, but it hurt too much. “It happens.”
Todd said something else, but I was already half asleep, and I missed it.
When I woke up again, it was morning, and my hospital room was full of people. Todd was still there—or maybe he was back; his clothes looked different, but it’s hard to tell one navy blue suit and white shirt from another, really—and Dix was there too, leaning against the wall next to the window. The girls were with him, peering nervously at me. I guess maybe they’d wanted to make sure for themselves that I was all right. Having their aunt get shot right on the heels of their mother dying must be scary for them. I smiled and twiddled the fingers on my good arm in their direction. Abigail waved back, but Hannah was too busy sucking her thumb.
Mother sat in a chair next to the bed, and looked positively haggard. “Savannah.”
“Hi, mom.” I tried for a sunny smile, but it fell flat.
“Are you all right, darling?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “My shoulder hurts, but the doctor said it should be fine in a few weeks. And I caught her.”
“You sure did.” The voice came from over by the door, and when I looked in that direction, I saw Tamara Grimaldi in the opening. She was carrying a bunch of flowers, and was smiling. “I guess congratulations are in order. You’ve done my job for me. Again.”
I smiled back. “No offense, detective, but I wouldn’t want your job for all the money in the world. Have you talked to her?”
She shook her head. “I came here first. Didn’t want the flowers to wilt on the way.”
Dix moved to take them from her, and she gave him a smile too. He blinked. She added, “You know you shouldn’t do things like that, Ms. Martin.”
“I had to follow Marley,” I said. “I couldn’t let her go over there alone. She was talking crazy, saying how she wanted to kill Dr. Seaver. And then I had to stop Dr. Seaver from shooting Marley instead. She had the gun pointed right at her. It wasn’t like I had a choice.”
“No,” Detective Grimaldi answered, “I imagine not. You never seem to have a choice, do you?”
I shrugged. It still wasn’t easy to do. My shoulder was stiff and painful, and I grimaced.
“How do you feel?” the detective asked.
I gave her the same answer I’d given Todd last night. “Like someone shot me.”
As opposed to Todd, Tamara Grimaldi grinned. “You’ll feel better in a few days. Good as new in a couple of weeks. Just take it easy and don’t try to lift anything. Don’t do any pushups for a while.”
“I never do pushups. You sound as if you’re speaking from experience.”
“It’s a job hazard,” Grimaldi said. “You want to tell me what happened? I got the basic information from your brother on the phone last night, but he didn’t have all the details.”
“Sure.” I launched into a description of the events of last night, complete with shocked sound effects from mother and winces from Todd and Dix. When I got to the end, Tamara Grimaldi shook her head.
“You did a good job, Ms. Martin. But please don’t do anything like that again. I’d hate to have to explain—” She stopped.
I bit my lip. “Have you spoken to him?”
She shook her head. “Wanted to talk to you first. Thought you might not want me to.”
“I don’t.” If Rafe came back, I wanted it to be because he wanted to, not because he had to. Or felt he had to. Or because I was hurt.
Grimaldi nodded. It must be what she’d expected to hear.
“What about Marley?” I asked. “Will she get her baby back?”
“He’s not a baby anymore,” Grimaldi said. “But yes, once we’ve ascertained that he’s her son, she’ll get him back. I’ve got a judge working on a court order, just in case the adoptive parents make a stink.”
Mother clicked her tongue. Todd looked guilty, probably because he’d been the one prosecuting Marley.
“This sucks for them, doesn’t it?” I said. “If they adopted him thinking everything was legal and above board...”
“They didn’t,” Grimaldi answered. “If nothing else, they knew there were no adoption papers. I don’t think I can get them on conspiracy to commit kidnapping, although I’d like to try. That’s none of your concern, though. We’ll handle that, along with rooting out Emil Rushing’s contact in the Department of Health. You just focus on getting better.”
“I just feel so bad for Marley. Two years of hell, just because Denise Seaver decided she didn’t deserve to keep her child. And then the trial on top of losing Oliver in the first place...”
“He’s still small enough that the transition will be pretty easy for him,” Grimaldi said. “In another year, he probably won’t remember any of this.”
“Marley will.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that. But she’s getting her child back. She’ll be fine.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
Grimaldi shook her head. “She’s my next stop. Then I’m off to the sheriff’s office to see Denise Seaver.”
“Are you taking her to Nashville with you?”
“Eventually,” Grimaldi said. “For the time being, I’m just going to leave her here. We’ll file charges for murder up in Nashville once we get our ducks in a row. In the meantime, Sheriff Satterfield has everything he needs to hold her for attempted murder and kidnapping here. She’ll be busy for a good long time either way.”
She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder for a second. My good shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Ms. Martin. And let me know when you’re ready to come back to Nashville. I’ll pick you up and drive you home, if you want.”
I smiled. “I might just take you up on that.”
I wanted to go home. To get back to my regular life. Trying to rustle up real estate clients during the day and reading romance novels and eating ice cream at night. No more murders. No more unsuitable boyfriends, either. Just me, by mys
elf.
“Don’t mind if you do,” Grimaldi said. She straightened up and glanced around the room. “Mrs. Martin.” She nodded to mother, who nodded back. “Mr. Satterfield.” Todd nodded too, if a little stiffly. “Mr. Martin.” She hesitated for a moment before she held out her hand. Dix took it. “I know it won’t bring your wife back, but Dr. Seaver will pay for what she did. I swear.”
“Thank you,” Dix said, and it sounded like his voice might have been a little froggy.
Tamara Grimaldi turned to the girls. “It was nice to meet you both. You take care of your daddy, OK?”
Abby nodded solemnly. Hannah took the thumb out of her mouth to ask, “Will you come back and visit us?”
Grimaldi glanced at Dix, then glanced at me, before turning back to Hannah. “I might.”
“Good,” Hannah said, and stuck her thumb back in her mouth.
TURN THE PAGE FOR AN EXCERPT OF Savannah Martin mystery #5, A DONE DEAL
EXCERPT
Chapter 1
A DONE DEAL
Savannah Martin Mystery #5
“It’s nice to see you looking more like yourself again, Savannah,” Todd said and smiled at me across his Veal Parmesan and my Chicken Marsala.
We were sitting at a table in Todd’s favorite restaurant, Fidelio’s in Nashville. It was a few weeks before Christmas, and Todd had driven up from Sweetwater, Tennessee, a small town some forty five minutes south, to take me to dinner.
Todd is my brother Dix’s best friend. We dated his last year of high school, while Dix went out with my best friend Charlotte. It seemed ordained, somehow. Mother and dad adored Todd, Pauline and Bob Satterfield liked me, and Todd and I got along reasonably well. I never imagined myself in love with him, but I liked him well enough. I thought he felt the same, and it came as quite a shock to realize, just a few months ago, that he liked me a lot more than I liked him.
Sure, he’d proposed once, before he went off to law school, but I’d been sixteen and didn’t take him seriously. I married someone else instead, years later. And when the marriage hit the skids, I divorced him.
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