“What happened?” The spit of water I swallowed hadn’t improved my death rattle.
Dirk’s hand paused. He tossed a wad of wet tissue into a nearby trashcan. He didn’t look at me and his voice was too casual. “What do you remember?”
It hurt to think but I concentrated. “Saw something. Bushes. Pepper spray.”
Ginger returned and I took a long pull on the straw. Dirk jerked his head slightly, her cue to leave the room. She stayed with me. That’s my BFF.
My throat felt better. I swirled a piece of ice into my mouth and sucked on it. “Got tackled from behind.” My eyes closed against the memory, but my Mama didn’t raise no sissy. “Justin. He tried to kill me.”
The thought that he almost succeeded was not one I wanted to air. “That’s all I know.”
Ginger put the sweating water container on the bed tray and her hands on her hips. “Why is there a guard on the door? I almost didn’t get back in here. A nurse had to vouch for me.”
Dirk’s guarded eyes and expressionless face made my stomach drop. “My boss ordered it.”
I could see Ginger getting wound up for her semi-annual temper tantrum. Lately though, her anger level was almost as high as mine. “Is it for Katie’s protection or is she under arrest?” Her foot tapping sounded loud in the sudden quiet.
Dirk pushed his fingers through his hair. Uh oh. Didn’t think I’d like what came next. His gaze held an apology.
“My boss still wants to pin the murder on you.” He shrugged but that didn’t excuse the crap he’d just tossed at me. “He’s kind of a one trick pony.”
“No excuse. Justin ... tried to ... kill ... me. Would have gone ... after Ginger next.” More water sluiced down my throat. I’d need a refill in a few minutes. “Blames me ... Morgan’s death. Wants me…dead.” I returned to the soothing safety of drinking ice water.
Ginger picked up the ball. “You boss isn’t a one trick pony. He’s an asshole.” My friend had channeled me. She picked up my thoughts exactly, and in the tone and words I’d use. “Why?”
Dirk didn’t play dumb. “My boss thinks the attempted murder is proof of a falling out between partners. He thinks Katie went to the station as backup.”
Crap.
I’d thought I was in deep shit with Dirk. Ginger added another layer. “You were at the station? By yourself? What were you thinking? You told me you were reporting the last threat to the police. You promised you’d stay home.”
Dirk smirked. I wished I could fake sleep, but knew that wouldn’t work. Ginger had seen me do it too many times and Dirk’s cop sense would pick it up in a nanosecond.
He crossed his arms. “I see I’m not the only person you hear that from.”
Ginger stepped up to the plate and swung. “Get over yourself, buster. She’s been my friend a long time. I have a right to first scold.”
Dirk threw his hands up palm out and sat down. He crossed his legs and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Go ahead. I’m going to enjoy this.”
I stymied the reproach by holding up my IV’d hand. “I’m tired. Can you both leave? We’ll discuss this later.” My hand dropped to the blanket.
That request was no ruse. A spurt of energy had carried me only so far and would go no further. Ginger’s gaze ran over my face, and whatever she saw convinced her I told the truth. That couldn’t have been a good thing. My appearance, not my honesty.
“Wait. One thing.” I looked at Dirk. “Have I told you what I think about your boss?”
“You sure you never dated him? He’s got a big something against you.”
“He’s gonna be disappointed.”
The last thing I saw before the backs of my eyelids were Dirk and Ginger’s worried glances. Then I heard him say they’d posted a guard for my protection. That really couldn’t be good.
****
The doctor said my throat would be sore for a while. Ginger wouldn't let me look in the mirror, not that I wanted to see the bruises Justin had likely given me. To take my mind off my pain, I asked her the main question bothering me.
“Ginger, why does Justin hate me so much?”
She looked up from her Natural Foods magazine. “I’ve been thinking about that while you slept. I think it’s because you didn’t save Morgan.”
“Huh?”
She thumbed several pages then laid the magazine in her lap, meeting my gaze. “I think he was in love with Morgan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Especially because he swears he isn’t the murderer.” She leaned her chin on her palm. “That and I used to catch Justin watching Morgan when he thought no one saw him. The poor man couldn’t help himself.”
“Do you think—”
“What?”
“Well, I wonder if Justin was one of Morgan’s victims?”
“Probably. Morgan took Justin for a pile of money. The Yoga Studio set up shouldn’t have cost the amount Justin said he paid in to the business. Morgan had to be taking money out of the partnership.”
Poor Justin. Taken for a ride like one of Morgan’s women.
“We know Justin picked up the blackmailing. He admitted finding Morgan’s records and photographs. He figured he should get a return on investment, I guess.”
“But if he didn’t kill Morgan, who put poison on the mat and block?”
“That’s for me to discover. Don’t even think about asking questions.” Dirk’s voice made my girl parts all squishy even as he ticked me off. Like I had a choice about being in the hospital.
His voice gentled. “Feeling any better?”
I nodded. “What’s up with Justin? Ginger says he claims he didn’t murder Morgan.”
Dirk tossed a headshake Ginger’s way then faced me. “I may as well tell you. You’ll be bugging everyone for information otherwise.” He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat.
“The story starts over ten years ago.” He paused. “Justin Nash played varsity football. Big Ten. I remembered him. Didn’t get drafted but he was a solid player. Fast and tough.”
I wouldn’t know. SEC teams were the only ones I knew existed. But what happened to turn Justin from a tough athlete to a small business investor? Did I really want to know?
“Anderson and Nash attended the same college and developed a friendship. It’s not clear if they stayed friends the entire time, but a few years ago, they hooked up again, right after Nash came into an inheritance. They formed a partnership and tried a few businesses, but nothing took until they started Yoga Studio.”
Dirk leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Nash found out about the gifts and the blackmail. He’d lost most of his money to his business partner. With Morgan out of the way, he decided to take over the scam.”
I glanced at Ginger, proud she’d figured out much of the story for herself.
“Ginger thinks Justin hates me because I didn’t save Morgan, but that doesn’t make sense. Isn’t Justin the murderer?”
Dirk hesitated before answering. “It’s true Nash denies killing anyone, but that’s no surprise. We can’t place him at the cemetery for attempted homicide, and the gun used there hasn’t been found. For my money, the combined blackmail, attempted murder charges won’t put him away nearly long enough.”
“Tack on malicious damage. I bet he’s the one who broke into my house. And he stole Morgan’s twenty-five thousand dollar watch. That’s gotta be what, grand theft?” I decided not to mention the cemetery desecration, because Dirk didn’t need a reminder about my part in that scene.
Dirk grinned. “Thanks, little Miss District Attorney. We’ll check that out.” His smile faded.
“You believe he’s the murderer, don’t you?”
Dirk clasped his hands and looked at the floor for a few moments. Then he caught my eye. “Could be.”
Ginger piped up. “Why do you say that?”
Dirk's and my gazes held. “Just a gut feeling.”
I knew about those. If
I’d listened to the last big one I’d had, I wouldn’t be lounging in this hard-assed hospital bed.
He looked at Ginger. “Nash told me Anderson said he wanted you to leave your husband. Run off together. Told Nash he planned to shut down the studio. They had a huge fight the night before the murder. What can you tell me about that?”
She grasped the arms of her chair. “Morgan asked me to elope, but I didn’t believe him. I never took him seriously.” She cleared her throat. “I had a fling, Detective Johnson, because my husband left me a little more day by day. I thought an affair would make me feel better. It didn’t.”
“Were you a blackmail victim of Anderson or Nash?” Dirk’s kind tone and prudence got big marks from me.
“I didn’t get a note until after Morgan died.” She straightened in her chair. “But I have no doubt Morgan would have blackmailed me at some point. He had no conscience.”
I reached over the bedside and she took my hand. “Oh, I don’t know. That sounds like a strong motive to me. Justin’s income gone and the man he worshipped taking off with a rich woman. And with a boatload of ill-gotten gains besides. It’d drive me to murder.”
Dirk looked toward the door. “You may want to watch your words.”
I rolled my eyes and avoided his stare. He turned his cop gaze toward Ginger. “Nash admits to calling your husband. I’d like to talk with you about that later.”
Ginger paled. “We can speak now. I know about the call.”
“So you know he revealed the affair, hoping to ruin your marriage in retaliation.”’
A wave of confusion washed over me. “When was this? Why didn’t you tell me, Ginger?”
“Rob finally brought it up the night Justin tried to kill you.” She squeezed my fingers. “It was news to me too.”
This raised a whole lot of questions I wouldn't ask in front of Dirk and with a too fuzzy brain. “Did Justin have a partner besides Morgan or did he pull all of this off on his own?”
“He lawyered up and we didn’t get anything more.”
Against my better judgment, I brought up a point that bothered me. “The destruction in my kitchen didn’t seem to follow Justin’s pattern. It had a sly feel to it. The stuff Justin did reminded me of, well, a linebacker.” I remembered the lipstick warning. “Justin’s actions differed from the kitchen wreckage.” Frustration took over. “I don’t know. It just bothers me is all.”
“You could be right. It wouldn't hurt to remain on your guard.”
My head dropped against the pillows. “Speaking of guards, do I still have one, or did your boss get smart?”
His left eyebrow rose. Damn it, even with my regular practicing, I still couldn't do that.
“The guard leaves this afternoon.” Dirk paused. “The doctor said you can go home today.”
Ginger grabbed her magazines and purse. She jumped from the chair in a move I knew had to have been prearranged.
“You know what? I need something to eat. I’ll just run down to the cafeteria for a salad. Can I get you anything?” She asked the question as she reached the door. She looked to Dirk, nodded and waltzed out of the room before I could accuse her of running like Secretariat.
Dirk stepped to my bedside. He placed his thumb against my lips. “Let me have my say before you tell me off, okay?”
My lips curved into a smile. He rubbed his thumb across them then followed up with a brief, deep kiss.
“I know you can take care of yourself, but I worry about you. Nash tried to kill you yesterday. Makes no sense to me because everyone knows you’re a church-going preacher’s wife type.”
I opened my mouth, ready with a smart-ass comeback, but his thumb returned to block my lips.
“Nash may not be the only person who wants you dead.”
Shivers ran the length of my spine. Gut reaction? He could be right.
“I want you where I know the territory. If someone else is out there, I can protect you better at my house.” His shoulders rose with his inhaled breath. “Stay with me.”
I noticed he didn't give me a time limit, just asked me to stay. A little scary, but not anything like what I’d experienced since Morgan died. “Okay.”
He closed his mouth. “Okay? That easy?”
I nodded. I hurt and it’d be nice to have someone take care of me. I hadn’t had that since my parents died fourteen years ago.
He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead and straightened. “I’ll be back to pick you up later. The doctor said he’d release you at three o’clock.”
When my brain formed the words, “you don’t have to do that,” I shut it down. He had a need to pick me up and I wouldn't deny him. Maybe that’d help both of us get past what had almost happened last night. Besides, I had a hunch it’d be awhile before I felt safe in my bungalow.
****
Dirk pushed my wheelchair to the hospital doors himself. The nurse didn’t fuss, just handed me off like a pro quarterback passing the ball to his fullback. Not that I cared. They'd given me a shot. I hoped my brain had enough self-preservation cells left to keep me from spouting something stupid. Or worse, mushy. Euww.
He tucked me into the front seat, gave the nurse something to blush about and slid behind the driver’s wheel. “Ready?”
“You bet.” My hand made a gesture meant to be grand. “Home, Dirk.”
He grinned and pulled into traffic, wisely making no comment.
I fell asleep on the short ride and woke up groggy. Dirk threw his arm over my shoulders, holding me to his side. His support kept me from tripping and sprawling at his feet.
His offer of food and drink didn't seem as important as additional sleep, so I staggered down the hall and into his bed. Dirk leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest.
“I've got to go to the station for awhile. Can I trust you here or do I have to tie you down?”
I licked my bottom lip and considered his offer. “How about you trust me now and tie me later?”
His dark eyes gave me his nonverbal answer. “A soak will do you good. I'll fire up the spa before I leave because the water takes a couple of hours to heat. Should be ready when I get home.”
How had I missed the hot tub? We'd have a hot time in the old tub tonight. My hand covered my yawning mouth. “Sounds great.” I'd already rolled onto my side, eyes drooped half shut.
His voice drifted to my ears. “Don't answer the door or go outside until I return.”
“'Kay.”
Chapter Nineteen
My eyelids flew open. My heart pounded. I didn't know why I'd been jerked awake. Supported on my arms, I listened but everything remained quiet.
Then I heard scuffling outside the window, a ping of pebbles against the glass. I lifted my head. A small boy ducked behind the azalea bushes at the back fence. As I watched, he crouched down and picked up a handful of pebbles.
I slowly rolled out of Dirk's bed, glad I’d remained dressed. My throat ached, and I felt stiff and sore, but I could deal with a small mischief-making boy. I heard more pinging against the window as I left the room. A minute later, I walked onto the deck.
“Hey, stop throwing those pebbles. You could break the window.”
No answer. Not even birds chirped. The soft hum of the spa's pump filled the air. “I know you're out here. I saw you hide by the azaleas.”
The boy edged out from behind the bushes, but before I could make another move, he darted into the adjoining yard. Kids. I made a mental note to tell Dirk he had a potential juvie living next door. Can't turn ’em around too early.
Curious, I moved to the spa for a glimpse of the tub I'd be sharing with Cop Sexy later. I lifted the cover. Sunshine reflected off the water. I winced.
Maybe the pain medication had made me more reckless than usual, but the water's movement hypnotized me. Removing the sectioned Styrofoam cover, I knelt next to the spa.
My gaze caught sight of a sharpened piece of metal lying next to the tub, right under the lip. A garden stake?
Glancing over the deck, I spotted the reason. A stack of clay pots stood nearby, next to a man-sized bag of potting soil. The tips of other stakes peeked out from a flat of herbs.
Cop Sexy grew his own herbs. He probably had more food in his refrigerator than me too.
The warm metal felt good on my scabbed palm. Plus I couldn't quite pull myself together to move, so I sat contemplating the kind of tough guy who'd grow and label plants. Heck, for all I knew, the stakes and soil were a legacy from his former marriage.
The water’s reflection caught my attention again and I reached to test the heat. Warm, chemically treated liquid sloshed over my hand, Nice, but I needed a step above tepid. Even with Cop Sexy by my side the temperature wasn’t optimal.
A shadow appeared on the water. At the same time I heard a soft shuffle behind me. Dirk had gotten home earlier than I thought. Crap. He'd be all over me for leaving the house.
The whiff of an expensive scent hit my nostrils. Dirk smelled great, but this odor was perfume, not aftershave. Ginger would have announced herself.
Not Dirk. Not Ginger. Trouble.
Before I could scramble to my feet, a solid push had me sprawled halfway in the water. Crap, not again. Had Justin gotten out on bail?
I flailed. I'm no weakling but the painkiller's effects had left me loopy. If I could get oxygen and a chance, I might survive.
My attacker had determination and a small hand size. A woman, then, not Jason. She didn't let up. I reached behind me to free myself. No dice. I still held the garden stake in my left hand. I turned it face backward. With waning strength, I jabbed up and back.
The attacker's hand let up. Drops of blood landed in the water. I arched my back. Levering my knees against the spa's side, I pushed up and pulled in oxygen. Good thing I did. My still unseen assailant rammed my face back into the water.
The air and reprieve from death fired my blood. My brain cleared. I jabbed the garden stake backward again and again.
Death Stretch Page 16
