No, not the subject. Katherine. Katherine Sinclair.
Or, as the mystery man had shouted, his voice breaking as he ran…Katy.
Chapter Fifteen
Katy opened her eyes to a sea of white.
Didn’t I just paint the bedroom mauve?
She looked around and tried to turn her head. Pain. Her neck ached, her shoulder throbbed and fatigue weighed her body down. She couldn’t move. Not even a finger.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She frowned at the noise intruding on her quiet until she realized it had always been there. That and the cloying smell of…antiseptic.
Steven? Working late again?
Beep. Beep. Beep.
No. Not Steven.
She tried to lift her hand and a sharp pain shot up her arm. A cold, plastic tube rubbed over her skin. It led to a plastic bag hanging on a pole beside her.
IV. Hospital. What am I doing here?
“Katy.” A rich, deep voice startled her. “How are you feeling?” She strained to turn her head. Her heart thudded. The beeping increased. She knew the dark, handsome man beside her. She knew the warmth in his brown eyes, the softness of his sable hair, the contours of his jaw, thick with stubble. But not the exhaustion lining his face. And not his name.
Her heart seized up at a barely remembered pain. She whimpered, a soft sound not meant to be heard by anyone. Especially him.
He stood up immediately and cupped her cheek in his palm. “What’s wrong, sugar?”
Sugar. The term of endearment warmed her inside but her mind stayed muddy. Good guy or bad guy? She couldn’t remember and the strain of trying to wade out of the confusion made her head ache.
A nurse wearing Mickey Mouse scrubs poked her head in the door. “Ah, you’re awake, dear. I’ll call Dr. Hughes…I mean Steven. He wanted to be notified as soon as you regained consciousness…and Dr. Watson too.” The nurse checked Katy’s pulse and then rushed out the door.
“Mark, I brought you some coffee.”
Mark. She remembered the name, but not the man.
“She’s awake, James. The nurse just went to get her doctor.”
A blond-haired man with a rough, angular face came into view. Vaguely familiar.
“Hey, Katy. How are you doing?”
She knew she should answer, but her swollen tongue and parched throat made it impossible to speak. She salivated at the rich, earthy scent of coffee and managed to whisper, “Water.”
Mark poured a glass of water from a pitcher and put a straw between her lips. She gulped down the cool liquid. Coffee would have been better.
“Thank you.” Her voice came out as a weak croak. “Wh…what happened?”
Mark stroked her hair. “You were outside the courthouse. Someone fired shots. Your witness fell on top of you, and you banged your head on one of the stone planters. Probably saved your life. One shot hit your shoulder as you fell, but if you’d been standing it would have killed you.”
“Martin?” She remembered the name. “Is he okay?”
His hand froze mid-stroke. “Don’t worry about him. Everything’s under control.”
“How long?”
“You’ve been here three days.” James had a gruff voice, like fingernails on sandpaper. “Mark has barely left that chair since they brought you in.”
She twisted slightly to get a better look at the man who had sat beside her for three days. Not even her mother would have done that. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder and she winced.
He noticed. “Try not to move. I’ll get the nurse to bring you some pain killers.”
The door opened with a bang, flooding the room with cold air.
“Kate. What the devil were you thinking? What have you gotten yourself involved in? Why would you put yourself at risk? You’re a mother for godsakes. I should never have let you go to law school. This is how I’m rewarded. Now I’ve got the kids and the babysitter to deal with. Not to mention work. It’s chaos. I’m stressed out of my mind.”
Katy froze. Steven. Even in the haze clouding her mind, she knew him. Even in her muddied consciousness she remembered her anger.
His tirade went on and on. Words, too many words. She closed her eyes and tears washed down her temples. Too much noise. Too much emotion.
Mark dabbed her tears away with a tissue. “That’s enough. You’re upsetting her. She’s only just woken up. I hardly think shouting at her is going to speed her recovery.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. Good guy. But fighting a losing battle. Don’t you know? In the hospital, Steven is God.
“I’m a doctor, for chrissakes. A surgeon at this hospital. Don’t presume to tell me what I can and can’t do,” Steven shouted.
Shoes squeaked across the floor. “He’s right, Steven. She’s been unconscious for three days. She needs peace and quiet.” Dr. Doug Watson, emergency room physician, and family friend, patted her hand. Their kids went to the same school and played together at the park. Why did she remember him? Why couldn’t she remember Mark and James?
“Kids?” she whispered. Where were Melissa and Justin?
“Who the hell are you?” Steven snarled, pointing at Mark.
“Mark Richards. I’m a…friend. You would know me if you’d even once come to see her after they brought her in.” He held out his hand but Steven didn’t shake it.
“What would have been the point of that?” Steven said in a sharp voice. “She was unconscious.”
Mark’s brows drew together and his jaw twitched.
James put a cautionary hand on his arm. “Don’t bother. He isn’t worth the effort.”
Oblivious to their exchange, Steven continued his rant. “You can go now, Richards. My wife is fine. Doug is going to discharge her and I’ll get my secretary to call a cab to take her home. Her kids need her. The babysitter can’t cook for shit and she doesn’t make lunches. She says it’s not in her job description. The kids have been surviving on peanut butter sandwiches and cereal. Plus I’ve got back-to-back shifts to make up the time I had to spend looking after them. It’s a nightmare.”
Two growls. Low. Barely audible. But she heard them. Mark and James weren’t pleased.
“I thought she was your ex-wife,” Mark said.
Steven waved his hand, dismissing the comment. “It’s a technicality. We’re working through it. She wants our family together again as much as I do.”
“No,” she whispered.
Mark stroked her cheek and she turned into the comfort of his hand.
Dr. Watson shook his head. “Steven, I can’t discharge her if I know she’s not going to get twenty-four hour care. She needs to rest and she needs to be watched. She has a concussion and the dressing on her shoulder from the bullet wound will need to be changed. I think it’s best if she stays here for the rest of the week.”
“No. No hospital.” Hot, wet tears slid down her cheeks. She had spent too much time in hospitals when her mother’s depression had become unmanageable. But worse, she would be at Steven’s mercy. She wouldn’t be able to get away.
“For godsakes, Doug,” Steven spluttered. “What am I supposed to do with the kids? The babysitter only works three hours a day after school and refuses to do any overtime. I need Kate at home. She’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t go into the office. A little housework won’t kill her. She’ll finally have time to do a proper job. And I’ll be at home on the nights I’m not on call.”
Steven at home? No, no, no. She tried to speak but her throat was too dry. She whined instead and shook her head against Mark’s warm palm.
“Shhh. I know,” he murmured in a soft voice.
Dr. Watson sighed. “You’re putting me in a difficult position. She’s my patient. She needs care. You know as well as I do that the concussion may not be symptomatic for another few days. Keeping her here is the best option if she can’t get the care she needs outside the hospital.”
“Is there somewhere else she can go?” James interjected. “A friend, othe
r family?”
Steven snorted. “Her mother is a crackpot. Spends her day wandering around her garden, talking to herself. Her dad ran out on the family when she was young. She’s got no sisters or brothers. All her friends work and have their own families. That’s what she needs. Her family. Me and the kids.”
“She’s coming home with me.” Mark’s deep voice echoed in the small room.
Katy’s heart skipped a beat. Had she been to his home before? She couldn’t remember. He reached over to brush a lock of hair from her face and gave her a wink. Katy’s lips curled into a weak smile. Safe. Mark was safe.
Steven’s mouth tightened in a grim line. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know you. I won’t agree to that.”
Mark rested his hand on her cheek. “She needs to be with someone who can look after her. Clearly, that isn’t you.”
Definitely one of the good guys. Strong. But Steven didn’t like confrontation. There would be hell to pay.
Steven’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the twisted fuck who dresses her up and parades her around sick parties?”
Welcome to hell. She hadn’t expected Steven to retaliate quite so quickly. Usually he waited and attacked when she was alone.
But now she remembered Mark. Bits and pieces. Hugs and kisses.
“That’s enough.” James stepped between them. The low, guttural warning in his voice made her shiver.
“Who the hell are you?” Steven’s face reddened. His fists clenched by his sides. Not good. Seconds away from exploding. Katy squeezed her eyes shut.
“Detective James Hunter, Homicide. I’m investigating the case.”
Startled, she opened her eyes again. Homicide? Didn’t someone have to die for the homicide department to be involved?
Steven retreated a step. Even “God” was afraid of the police. “I want her home with me,” he snapped.
“Why don’t we ask Katy what she wants? She’s not incapacitated so I believe it’s her decision. Isn’t that right, Doc?” Detective Hunter looked over at Dr. Watson.
Dr. Watson cleared his throat. “Er…yes, that’s right.”
Katy turned to look at Mark. His warm, brown eyes held her gaze, calm and steady. Reassuring. Safe.
“Mark.” She pushed the word out through the tightness in her throat despite a niggle in the back of her mind and a sharp stab in her heart.
“Are you sure about this?” Detective Hunter raised his eyebrows and looked at Mark.
Mark nodded and Katy shuddered with relief.
“What about you, Dr. Watson? You have the final say.” Somehow Detective Hunter had managed to take control of the room.
The doctor nodded and gave Katy a sympathetic smile. “I’ll keep you two more nights and then if everything checks out, I’m happy to release you early, provided you promise you will rest. That means no looking after the children, no housework, no work and no running around.”
Mark gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“This is absolutely absurd,” Steven fumed. “We have children who need their mother. I won’t forget this.” He stormed out of the room, his white coat flapping behind him. Detective Hunter and Dr. Watson followed, leaving Mark alone beside her bed.
Katy sank into the pillow. She had no energy left. Not to think. Not to fight. Not to be alone.
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded as the whiteness rushed to greet her.
“I’m here, sugar. I won’t leave you again.”
“More coffee?”
Mark took the paper cup from James, grateful for the caffeine fix. He had grown used to the taste of the vending machine coffee—liked it even. He turned off his laptop while James searched around for a chair. In the absence of meetings, phone calls and distractions, he had managed to stay on top of his work during his five days with Katy in the hospital.
But even if he hadn’t been able to work, he would never have left her alone. Not with her ex in the hospital. Self-centered bastard. If James hadn’t been there the afternoon she first woke up, he would have shoved the idiot out the nearest window. Over the last two days Steven had come by only to drop the kids off to visit with their mother. He never stayed. Never spoke to Katy. Never even bothered to ask how she was.
“So what did Dr. Watson say?” James pulled up his chair and settled down beside Mark.
“He’s releasing her this afternoon.”
“Good news. Did she say anything about the shooting?”
Mark took a sip of the aromatic black liquid, enjoying the bitterness on his tongue. “She still doesn’t remember much and I haven’t told her the truth about Martin.” He knew it was wrong, but he was grateful for her temporary memory loss. It gave him a chance to make everything right. Undo his mistake.
“I’m surprised you offered to take her home. What about the conflict?”
“I dealt with it before the shooting, and yesterday I spoke to her managing partner. He’s pulling her off the case.”
James widened his eyes. “I hope it was on his initiative and not yours. From what I know of her, she won’t take that lightly.”
“He’s going to take over the file as soon as Katy has recovered enough to tie up some loose ends.” Mark quickly looked away. James didn’t need to know the details of the deal he had worked out with Ted.
“Ahem.” James raised an eyebrow. Mark laughed. He should have known James would see right through him.
“Okay. I admit it. I might have contacted him and made a suggestion. But it wasn’t because I wanted the conflict resolved. That was done. It was for her safety. Her managing partner only cares about the bottom line. He would have put her back on the case the minute she was out of bed.”
But more than that, he suspected Steele might have been behind the shooting and he wanted Katy as far away from him as possible.
“Shouldn’t that have been her choice?”
Mark gritted his teeth and struggled to keep his voice low. “Fuck, James. Just leave it alone. I know I shouldn’t have called him. But I almost lost her. When I saw her at the courthouse…” His voice broke. “I’ll do what it takes to keep her safe. I can deal with the fallout.”
James sipped his coffee, seemingly unperturbed by Mark’s uncharacteristic outburst. “I stopped by your firm looking for her the night before the shooting. She had stumbled on a murder scene when she went to interview a witness earlier in the day. Your case, apparently.”
“My case?” His hand shook and coffee splashed over the side of his cup.
“Guy named Terry Silver. She didn’t want you to know about him, but now he’s dead and she’s off the case, so it doesn’t matter. Ring any bells?”
Mark shook his head. What was she up to? First Silver, then Cunningham. How were they related to the dismissal?
“Strong woman,” James continued. “She was really shaken but she recovered quickly and blew out of there to interview another witness in Burnaby.”
Cunningham. Of course. Did Steele know she had been in touch with the Cunninghams too?
James checked his watch and headed for the door. “I don’t know what’s going on in this city. Nothing unusual for six months and suddenly I have bodies all over the place.”
“What about Katy and Kowalski? Any leads?”
James shook his head. “She may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I have my doubts. The suspect got Kowalski on the first shot. He was dead before he hit the ground. The witnesses said a second shot was fired as Katy fell. Why did he shoot again unless she was a target?”
“Maybe he wasn’t sure he had hit Kowalski the first time.”
James dropped his coffee cup in the garbage can and pushed open the door. “We’ve put a team on her kids twenty-four seven and when she leaves the hospital, she’ll have protection until we have someone in custody.”
Emotion welled up in Mark’s throat and he gave James a tight nod.
“There’s something else,” James said. “The private investigator we
caught in the club last week had pictures of Katy on her camera. Any ideas?”
Mark’s stomach clenched. It had to be Steele. First an investigator and now a murder attempt. Steele hadn’t just crossed the line; he was half way into the end zone. He desperately wanted to tell James his suspicions, but his ethical duty of confidentiality protected Steele unless he had hard evidence. Steele’s comments in the boardroom could just have been idle threats.
“Mark?”
He shook his head. “I have a faint suspicion, but it’s nothing I can discuss.”
James sighed. “Even a clue? Katy’s life may be in danger. The PI might be connected to the shooter.”
“I’ll follow up on it as soon as I can, but I don’t want to risk implicating an innocent man and find myself at the mercy of the Law Society.”
James looked over at Katy, asleep in bed. “She’s one in a million. Don’t fuck it up.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
“It wasn’t advice. It was an order.”
Chapter Sixteen
“You didn’t have to carry me. I can walk perfectly well.”
Katy clung to Mark’s neck as he carried her into his apartment. Over the threshold. Like newlyweds.
“You’re supposed to rest.” He locked the door with her still in his arms.
Katy looked around the bright, spacious penthouse. The minimalist décor didn’t suit him. Stiff brown and tan leather sectionals, wooden cube tables and geometric prints. A few artfully arranged sculptures dotted the shelves and a massive brown granite island gleamed in the kitchen. Cold and impersonal. Unlived in and unloved. Still the view took her breath away. His penthouse took up the entire top level of the building. Floor to ceiling windows showcased Coal Harbor and Stanley Park only a stone’s throw away. “It’s…nice.”
Mark huffed a laugh. “It was a show suite. I didn’t have time to buy furniture and decorate it myself, and I’m rarely here except to sleep.” He jerked his thumb toward a massive wooden double door at the far end of the open-plan living space. “The bedroom is down that way, which is where you’re going to be spending the next few days. I called your babysitter and she’ll bring Melissa and Justin whenever you feel up to seeing them.”
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