Written in Blood (Otter Creek Book 3)

by Rebecca Deel

  “Listen to him, Kyle,” Rod said. “You won’t get away with this. Too many people know the facts. It won’t take long for someone else to put the puzzle together.”

  Kyle swung the gun toward him. “Shut up, Rod.”

  Ty held out his hand toward his brother. “Give me the gun.”

  “Ty, you don’t know what’s at stake. You don’t know what’s going on. Just leave before you destroy everything.”

  Studying the brothers, Rod didn’t see any sign Ty knew the truth about Kyle. He thought Kyle had gone off the deep end to protect the Senator. What would happen if Ty learned the truth? Would he turn against Kyle or join ranks with his adoptive brother? He had to divide their loyalties if he and Meg stood any chance of survival. “Ty, ask Kyle why he’s planning to kill me and Megan.”

  Pure rage crossed Kyle’s face.

  Ty’s gaze shifted from Rod to Kyle. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Nothing. He’s just wasting time in an attempt to save his worthless life.”

  “He’s lying, Ty.” Rod kept his attention on Kyle. Just one instant of distraction was all he needed to get to the .38 in his ankle holster. He offered Kyle a wry grin. “Tell your brother the truth about the night Sherri was attacked two years ago.”

  Ty took one step closer to his brother, his face a mask of confusion. “What? Do you know something you didn’t tell the cops?”

  “Of course not.” Kyle’s gaze pinned Rod, a promise of retribution shining in his eyes.

  “If you know something, you have to tell the cops. The scum who raped Sherri deserves to rot in jail.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know anything.” Beads of sweat formed on Kyle’s flushed face. “Get out, Ty. Go home. You can’t testify to something you don’t know about.”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why Kyle claimed to have heard nothing the night Sherri was raped? He was at home, in the library, Ty.” Rod shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “Sherri screamed for help. The attack happened where Sherri planted her garden. Right outside the library’s French doors.”

  Ty dragged in a ragged breath. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “Shut up, Kelter or I swear I’ll shoot you now,” Kyle said.

  “Kyle raped Sherri.”

  “No!” Ty’s face reddened with rage.

  Rod pivoted and shoved Meg to the floor just as Kyle fired the Ruger. His right leg buckled. Pain exploded in his thigh and he collapsed on top of Meg.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Meg tried to scramble to her feet.

  “No.” Rod covered her head with his hand. “Stay down.”

  Sounds of scuffling reached her ears. She pushed Rod’s hand away and raised her head. Ty and Kyle rolled on the floor, fighting for possession of the gun. The weapon discharged again, shattering the window. The curtains billowed with the rush of cold air filling the room. Ty knocked the gun from Kyle’s hand, sending it skittering toward the fireplace.

  Meg pulled away from Rod’s weak grip and stood. Sirens screamed from the police cars speeding up the driveway. Kyle pounded his brother with a right uppercut to the jaw, then shook his head, wiped his bleeding mouth and rolled off him, looking for the gun.

  If Kyle got his hands on that gun one more time, he would kill Rod before Ethan and the rest found them. She leaped to her feet and ran across the room as Kyle reached for the weapon. Meg stomped on his hand. He roared with pain and swept her feet from under her with a blur of his arm.

  Meg landed on her back. In an instant, Kyle dove on top of her, hands around her throat. His grip tightened, face a dark red, eyes glittering. Her hands clawed at his, raking deep gouges in his skin, her body bucking without success against his considerable weight. His expression hardened and the vice of his hands closed more.

  “Let her go, Kyle, or I will kill you,” Rod shouted.

  Kyle froze and glanced over his shoulder. He released her. Meg grabbed a series of deep breaths and the black dots clouding her vision faded. She turned her head to see Rod on his stomach, arms extended, face grim, a gun pointed at Kyle.

  “Get away from him, Meg.” Rod’s voice carried a hint of urgency.

  She noticed his hands shaking and the sweat pouring down his face. Still perched above her, Kyle’s body tensed, like a snake coiling to strike at prey. The rotating blue and white bar lights from the cruisers lit the room. So close but Meg feared not close enough. Rod was at the end of his strength. She knew from the look on Kyle’s face he’d seen the same thing.

  Kyle crawled off her and rose to a squatting position, balanced on the balls of his feet, readying himself to spring. Meg drew her legs against her chest and, using both feet, kicked Kyle in the side, shoving him headfirst into the desk. His head hit the back of the desk with a loud thud. He slumped to the floor, unmoving.

  Afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her weight, Meg crawled to Rod’s side. He kept his weapon trained on Kyle.

  From the hall came a cry. “Police!”

  “Down the hall, Ethan,” Rod called. “Situation is secure.”

  Ethan slipped into the room, weapon drawn, followed by an armed Nick. He scanned the room and motioned Nick to the gun Kyle had dropped. “You okay, Meg?”

  “I’m fine. You’ve got to help Rod.”

  When Ethan cuffed Kyle, Rod relaxed his grip and laid down his gun, leaning his head against his still extended arm. “Thought you’d never get here.”

  “Doesn’t look like you needed us at all,” Nick said, securing the weapon. He pulled out his handcuffs and shackled Ty’s wrists. “Took down the bad guys with no help.”

  “No,” Meg said to Nick. “Ty tried to help us.”

  Rod coughed. “They’ll work it out, baby. Let them do their jobs.”

  “How bad are you hit?” Ethan left the still unconscious Kyle and knelt by Rod’s side.

  “Took a bullet in the side. In and out. Another in the leg.”

  “We need to get you to the hospital.” Ethan reached for his radio.

  Meg stayed his hand. “He can’t wait. Give me the keys to one of your cruisers. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Take mine,” Nick said. “Keys are in the ignition.” He motioned another officer over and knelt beside Rod. “Was it Kyle?”

  “Yeah.” With Nick’s help, Rod got to his feet and limped out to the SUV. The pain in his side was so fierce he could hardly breathe and his leg felt like it was on fire. The cold air slapping his face revived him enough to climb into the car under his own steam, shivers racking his body. “Watch Ty,” he said, teeth chattering hard enough for his sympathetic friend to hear. “Kyle is the one who raped Sherri.”

  Nick whistled softly as he strapped Rod into the seat. He looked at Meg. “Be careful, sugar. There are a few slick patches going down this ridge.” He grinned. “Turn on the bar lights. At least this time, you won’t get a ticket for speeding.”

  Meg turned on the engine. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Nick shut the door and stepped away from the SUV.

  Rod could feel himself sinking into blackness. “Never thought I’d say this to you, baby, but you better step on it.” The tires squawked as the SUV leaped forward. And the blackness descended.

  “Where is that doctor?” Meg limped around the waiting room, darting glances toward the hallway, wishing the surgeon would appear. Yet another glance at her watch showed the time five minutes later than the last time she checked. And an hour beyond the time expected for the surgery to last.

  The early reports showed nothing vital hit. No major organs involved. Were the injuries worse than the preliminary report had showed? If the doctor didn’t show soon, Meg would slip past the old harridan guarding the desk and blackmail a nurse or intern into ferreting information from the surgical suite.

  “Shall I storm the operating room?” Josh stood, one shoulder against the wall near the doorway, watching Meg pace.

  She rounded on him, her teeth bared. “Don’t tempt me. Th
ey should have been finished an hour ago.”

  “Meg, you need to sit down and put the ice pack back on your knee.” Madison tugged on her hand. “Otherwise, Rod might mistake me for you and try to kiss me.”

  Meg threw herself into the chair beside her sister with a snort. “Nick would pound Rod’s face in the dirt. Then I would have to kill Nick and he’s sort of growing on me.”

  Josh grinned. “Well if you want to keep Kelter’s ugly mug untarnished, sit down and chill.”

  She threw another sullen glance at her brother, but remained still as Madison repositioned the ice pack. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait. The tension made her skin feel too tight and her lungs refused to fully inflate.

  She fumed over the loss of her laptop. What she wouldn’t give right now for access to her word processing program. She needed to write the evening’s events down for Ethan and the Gazette and fill in the manuscript’s holes with the pieces Kyle had provided.

  An overwhelming sadness blanketed her. So much pain for Ty, such a senseless assault on Sherri, then her murder and her mother’s death. Her head feeling too heavy to hold up any longer, Meg leaned against the back of the lounge couch, eyes closed. So much heartache because of Kyle’s push for power and the Senator’s ruthless pursuit of a child for his wife. An entire family destroyed selfishness and greed.

  A renewed determination surged within Meg. Sherri’s book begged to be finished. Her hopes and dreams, her fight to survive and recover could inspire other assault victims. Her voice deserved to be heard. The Gazette deadlines, however, were relentless. She wondered if she could persuade Ruth to stay on for another month, just long enough for Meg to finish the rough draft.

  “Meg.” Madison nudged her. “I think that’s the surgeon who worked on Rod.”

  She sat up, her gaze focusing on the scrub-clad silver-haired man listening to an animated discourse by the desk battleaxe. Her beady eyes speared Meg with poisoned glances.

  Meg’s lips curled. Battleaxe did not want to get into it with her about desk-side manners right now. She wasn’t in the mood to play nice.

  Josh straightened away from the wall, his gaze fixed on her. “Keep a lid on it, Meg. Don’t make me have to do something we’ll both regret.”

  “So stay out of my way.”

  He took a step toward her. “I’m serious, Megan.” His voice dropped to a growl. “Don’t put me or yourself in a situation we’ll have to deal with in an official capacity. You won’t do Kelter any good if you’re barred from the hospital.”

  Meg slid her foot from the chair. The ice pack landed on the floor with a soft thud as she stood. The surgeon burst into laughter and turned toward the waiting room. The battleaxe scowled at his retreating back.

  The surgeon’s gaze zeroed in on Meg, his smile broad. “You must be the infamous Cahill woman.”

  She shrugged. “I’m Megan Cahill.”

  “I’m Ben Chase. I operated on your friend. Why don’t you come with me, Ms. Cahill. Detective Kelter left instructions for me to update you after the surgery.”

  Butterflies tumbled in a chaotic frenzy in her stomach as she followed the doctor from the waiting room. Battleaxe sniffed in disdain as they passed the desk. Meg supposed she ought to be grateful the woman didn’t work on Rod’s floor or Josh might have to keep her penned in the room.

  The doctor led Meg to a room with a small couch and two chairs. He motioned her to one of the chairs and sat in the other. “Detective Kelter is in recovery. I’ll have an aide take you to him in a few minutes.” He grinned. “Someone other than the Battleaxe.”

  Heat suffused her cheeks. “She told you that, huh?”

  Chase chuckled. “I’ve worked with her for twenty years and never seen her that incensed.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me anything and didn’t bother to check with anyone when I asked for updates.”

  “Asked?”

  “Okay. Maybe I demanded information, but I tried to be nice the first few times.”

  Chase laughed as he patted her hand. “Congratulations, Ms. Cahill. You’re the first person to ever rattle the Battleaxe. And, yes, we call her that too. Now about your young man. Our first assessment of Detective Kelter was right on the money. No major organs hit. He needed a couple pints of blood, but his counts are good now. His blood pressure has stabilized. He’ll be limping for a few weeks until that leg heals, but he should recover with no residual effects from either of his wounds.”

  “That’s great news.” The tension in Meg’s body dissipated, leaving her weak, almost dizzy.

  “Would you like to see him now?”

  She smiled so hard her face hurt. “Please.”

  “Remember, the anesthesia might make him say some interesting things. It hits some people harder than others. I’ll send the aide out to the waiting room to get you in a couple of minutes. In the meantime, you can update the rest of the folks waiting for word on him.”

  Meg limped along the tile floor after the perky aide who guided her down the large aisle dividing the recovery room. She wondered about all the different medical equipment. Long, dense material curtains divided each area to provide a sense of privacy for patients and their families. Nurses moved with efficiency, monitoring the vitals of the six patients currently occupying the recovery room. Their quiet conversations with family members and patients gave Meg a sense of calm, a soothing change from the tension of the last few hours.

  The aide showed Meg to the last bay. Rod lay with the head of his bed slightly raised, hooked to various machines, an IV in his hand. She drew in a deep breath. Though pale and utterly still, he looked so good to her. She blinked away tears stinging her eyes and moved to his side.

  She picked up his hand and held it between both of hers.

  He drew in a deep breath, opened his eyes. “Meg.” Relief burned in his gaze. “You okay?” His voice, though weak, sent warmth zinging through her veins.

  “I’m supposed to ask you that, Kelter. You’re the one lying down on the job.” Tears misted her vision and spilled down her cheeks, despite the smile curving her mouth.

  “Don’t, baby.” His hand squeezed hers. “Come here.” He tugged her toward him.

  She moved closer, though a little reluctant. All the wires and meds intimidated her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He gave a small smile. “Can’t. Drugged up too much. Better take advantage while you have the chance.”

  Meg laid her cheek alongside his for a moment and thought about what could have happened. The ride down the ridge and into town seemed to take hours though the clock showed twenty minutes. The sirens and lights shortened the journey, but she’d never been more afraid than when she couldn’t rouse him. “If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll shoot you myself.”

  He pressed her hand. “I hear you.”

  For the next couple of hours in recovery, Meg alternated between standing by Rod’s side and sitting in a nearby chair while nurses checked vital signs and administered pain medication.

  One of the nurses noticed Meg limping to the chair. “Are you in pain?”

  Rod’s gaze, almost clear of the effects of anesthesia, zeroed in on hers. “Meg? Did he hurt you?” His heart monitor registered a faster beat.

  “Settle down over there, hot shot. My knee hurts from hitting the stairs. I had an ice pack on it before I came to you.”

  “The doctor checked you?”

  “Yes. Just a few bruises.”

  “Hmm.” The nurse checked Rod’s IV. “Sounds like you have a story.”

  “Two goons kidnapped me. Super Cop got shot rescuing me.”

  The nurse’s eyes widened. “You’re Megan Cahill, the newspaper lady. I heard the local radio station talking about the search for you. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Me, too,” Rod said softly.

  A quiet tap sounded on the open door. Rod glanced at Meg, sprawled in the chair next to his bed, sleeping. She didn’t stir. Good. “Come in,” he said in a subdu
ed tone. The door swung inward.

  Serena Blackhawk peeked around the edge and smiled at him. Her gaze fell on her sister. Her expression softened. “How long has she been asleep?”

  “About two hours.”

  Serena came further into the room, carrying a laptop computer and a gym bag. “Ethan said he was finished with Meg’s computer. I thought she might like to have it.”

  “What’s in the gym bag?”

  She set the computer and bag on the floor near the window. “Clothes for you and Meg. Ethan stopped by your house on the way to the station and picked up a few things for you.”

  “Knew it was a good idea to give him a key to my house.” Rod nodded at Meg. “Think you can convince her to go home and rest?”

  Serena shook her head. “Why waste my breath? You should know by now she won’t go home until she’s ready.” A tiny smile curved her lips. “I don’t blame her. If it were Ethan in that bed, I wouldn’t leave him either.”

  “Talking about me behind my back, love?” Ethan’s tall frame filled the doorway, his warm gaze focused on his wife.

  Even in profile, Rod couldn’t miss the love-filled expression on Serena’s face. He grinned at his boss. Ethan Blackhawk was one lucky man. Rod’s gaze drifted across to Meg’s beautiful face, the mirror image of Serena’s. His heart squeezed. After he lost Erin, he never thought he would feel that same kind of love for another woman. But Megan Cahill had surprised him. The prickly, take-no-prisoners newspaper editor had stormed her way into his heart and captured it. Did she know?

  Serena’s soft laughter drew Rod’s attention. She slipped into the shelter of her husband’s arms, her face beaming.

  Rod rolled his eyes. Those two should have taken a longer honeymoon. “Should I limp out of the room?”

  Ethan chuckled and approached Rod’s bedside, Serena still tucked next to his side. “You look pretty good for a guy who went two rounds with a Ruger and lost.”

  “Didn’t move fast enough.” His quiet laughter morphed into a groan as he pressed against the ache in his side.