She sank down onto the floor and pulled her legs tight to her chest. “Shamus.” Her voice was thin and shaky, but still he knew her at once.
"Cyndi."
"Someone just shot out my windows. I was in the study. At least I think they shot them. I'm not sure. But they're out there. They cut the phone line, and I had to make a run for my cell phone.” She knew she was babbling but couldn't make herself stop. Someone had shot at her.
"I'm on my way."
The thought of him coming here when there might be a maniac with a gun terrified her. “No! He might still be out there. Can you call the sheriff's department?"
"Why didn't you call them?” She could tell he was moving in the background as the television faded.
"I know I should have called 911.” Her voice sounded as small as she felt. “I wasn't sure they'd come. At least not right away."
Shamus swore. “Hang on, I'm calling from the other phone.” As she went quiet, she realized that she'd called Shamus's cell phone and that he had a landline as well. “Yeah, it's me. There's someone shooting at the James place. I'm on my way.” It took her a second to grasp the fact that Shamus wasn't talking to her. Then he was back. “I'm on my way out the door right now. Stay on the line with me."
"Okay. But you wait for the sheriff's deputies.” She couldn't bear to think about something bad happening to him.
"I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me. Are you okay?"
"I think so.” She thought she heard a noise and scrambled to her knees and turned off the light. She didn't think it could be seen from the kitchen, but she didn't want to take any chances.
"What's going on?” he barked.
"I thought I heard something."
"Where are you?"
She lowered her voice to a whisper as she crawled to the far corner of the room and put her back to the wall. “I'm hiding in the pantry off the kitchen."
"Stay there until I come for you. I don't want you moving around the house and maybe getting shot by accident from either the shooter or the cops.” The calmness of his voice settled her nerves slightly. Shamus was on the way.
"Okay,” she readily agreed, listening to his voice as he continued to talk to her. She wasn't keen on going out there until she knew that whoever was outside was gone.
Finally, she could hear a familiar sound in the distance. “I can hear the sirens."
"Everything will be okay, Cyndi. I'm just pulling into the yard now. I have to hang up, but you sit tight."
She didn't want to lose the contact with him, but now that she was calmer, she knew he was right. “Okay. Just wait for the deputies and be careful.” She forced herself to end the call.
Laying her phone to one side, she wrapped her arms tight around her legs and waited.
Chapter Seven
Shamus kept his voice calm because that was what Cyndi needed. What he really wanted to do was howl in fury. Someone had attacked his woman.
He might have only met her a day ago, but deep in his very being, he knew she was his. Sheer terror filled him as he recognized her voice on the phone and her story had come pouring out. Someone had shot at her. Then the anger followed, hot and deep. Whoever did this had made a grave mistake. Cyndi was his woman and he would protect her with his very life.
Common sense had little to do with the emotions coursing through his veins at the moment. They were primal and volatile. He'd never felt anything like it in his life. The only thing keeping him steady was the fact that it was what she needed right now. She was alive and unhurt. That was all that mattered.
His fingers clenched the steering wheel so hard he was surprised the damn thing hadn't broken. The normally short ride had seemed endless, but finally he was pulling into the driveway. It was hard to hang up the phone and cut off his only connection to Cyndi, but he needed both hands free.
Red and blue lights flashed behind him as a sheriff's cruiser pulled up. Shamus opened his door and climbed out of his truck. Two more official vehicles pulled up and his brother jumped out of one of them. He stalked toward Shamus. “What the hell is going on?"
Shamus motioned to the house. “Someone shot out several of the windows. Cyndi said she was in the study at the time. They cut the phone lines too."
The sheriff's deputies were gathering around Patrick, awaiting their instructions. “Spread out and search the grounds. Be careful. We may have a shooter out there. I imagine he's long gone, but don't take any chances.” The men and women dispersed and set to work.
Patrick waited until they were all gone before he turned back to Shamus. “Why the hell didn't she call the cops? Why did she call you?"
Shamus stared his brother straight in the eyes. “She wasn't sure you'd come fast enough."
Patrick swore and shook his head as he drew his weapon. In his other hand, he carried a heavy flashlight. “You stay behind me. Do you know where she is?"
"She's hiding in the pantry off the kitchen. I told her to stay put until I came for her."
Patrick nodded and started up the walkway. He tried the front door, but it was locked. “Stand back.” Using the handle of the flashlight, he beat out a small window just to the side of the door. When the glass was all pushed aside, he reached in and found the locks. In seconds, the door was open.
Easing inside the front door, Patrick kept his back to the wall as he turned on the light in the foyer. “You wait here.” He then proceeded to check each room in the hallway, leaving the lights on behind him as he moved deeper into the house.
Ignoring his brother's order, Shamus was tight on his heels. He wanted to race into the kitchen to Cyndi but he knew this was the safest way for all of them. Still, impatience ate at him.
Patrick glanced over his shoulder, a frown on his face. “I told you to wait outside."
"So arrest me. But do it after we find Cindy.” Both of them kept their voices to just above a whisper.
Patrick swore under his breath, but turned back to continue his search. He stopped just inside the study and whistled long and low. “I'll say someone shot out the windows."
Shamus peered over his brother's shoulder and saw the carnage. Glass covered everything. Shards of wood had been chipped off the walls and several shelves.
His brother flicked on the light and Shamus froze when he saw the smear of blood on the wall beside it. “She's hurt."
Whirling, he raced down the hallway, ignoring his brother's instructions to stop. He heard swearing and footsteps and knew Patrick was right behind him.
Shamus burst into the kitchen and raced to the door at the far end. Patrick turned on the light in the kitchen as he entered the room. Shamus ripped open the pantry door and peered inside. At first he didn't see her and panic filled him. “Cyndi,” he called her name, his voice was hoarse with fear.
"Right here.” He almost didn't hear her; her words were little more than a whisper. Then he saw her huddled against the far wall. Relief hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.
His hand shook as he hit the switch and the light came on in the small room. Her face was pale and smeared with blood. There was more blood on her hands and some on her arms where small shard of glass had hit her. “Oh, Cyndi,” he murmured as he moved forward to kneel beside her, pushing aside what seemed to be the entire contents of her purse.
Patrick filled the doorway, staring at Cyndi. “Are you all right?"
She didn't even look at the sheriff as she nodded her head. “I think so."
"Let's get you out of here.” Shamus wrapped one arm around her shoulders and slid another one under her knees. Lifting her easily, he stood and carried her out of the pantry and into the kitchen. “She needs to go to the hospital."
"I need to get a statement.” Patrick stood with his hands on his hips, watching Shamus with Cyndi clutched tight in his arms.
"She needs to see a doctor first. We don't know if there are any shards of glass embedded in her skin.” Shamus was furious at his brother for the way he was treating Cyndi. If it had
been any other woman, or a man for that fact, his brother would have worried about their well-being first and foremost. He glared at Patrick. “I'm taking her. If you want to stop me, arrest me."
Cyndi stirred in his arms, struggling to be put down. “Don't fight with your brother. I'm fine. I should never have called you. I knew this would happen."
He just tightened his grip as he stared at his brother. Patrick dragged his hand through is hair, his agitation plain. “Fine. As soon as I finish here, I'll head over to the hospital."
"You do that.” Shamus's frosty tone seemed to irritate his brother even more, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting the woman in his arms to the hospital where she could be taken care of. He could feel her shivering in his arms. He turned back to Patrick. “Do you have a blanket in your car? I think she's going into shock."
For the first time since they'd arrived, Patrick seemed to really look at Cyndi. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “Yeah. I'll get it for you."
As Patrick brushed by them, Cyndi put out her hand and touched his arm. Patrick pulled away and her hand dropped back down. “I'm sorry for causing so much trouble.” Patrick just shook his head and walked away. Cyndi bit her bottom lip, her big eyes luminous with tears.
"You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart,” Shamus assured her as he carried her out of the house toward his truck. “This is not your fault."
"This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't come back to Jamesville.” She turned her face into his shirt. He could feel the fine tremors that shook her.
"But then you wouldn't have met me, and that would have been a tragedy.” He kept his tone light and teasing.
She snorted into his shirt, and he felt some of her tension ease. He managed to get the truck door open and Cyndi buckled in by the time Patrick returned with the blanket. “Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he took it and tucked it around her. “I'll have the heat going in a second and we'll get you warm,” he promised her. She nodded, her attention focused on her hands clasped in her lap.
Patrick looked as if he might want to say something, but Shamus didn't give him any time. Closing the door, he went around the front of the truck and climbed into the driver's seat. He turned the key in the ignition, cranked up the heat, and put the vehicle in reverse, maneuvering around the other vehicles as he backed out of the driveway. As he started up the street toward the hospital, he could see Patrick still standing in the driveway, hands on his hips, watching them until they were out of sight.
Shamus sat in the waiting room, his eyes closed, and his head resting against the back of the uncomfortable, vinyl seat. Cyndi had been whisked into the emergency room as soon as they arrived. She'd been in there over thirty minutes, and he was starting to lose patience.
He opened his eyes and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin on his hands. Several of the nurses working the night shift were casting him covert glances as they whispered amongst themselves. By now, they'd know that Cyndi Marks was formerly Cynthia James. This was a small town and news carried fast. He ignored them. They could think whatever they wanted.
The door at the far end pushed open and Patrick stalked in. The nurses couldn't hold back their curiosity and openly stared. Shamus stood and waited for his brother to join him.
"Any news yet?” Patrick appeared tired but determined.
"No.” He scrubbed his hand over his chin and sighed. “The doctor is still checking her out."
"Look...” Patrick broke off and stared at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. He rolled his shoulders, absently rubbing his left one. Shamus wondered if his old injury was hurting tonight after him being out in the damp, cool air. “We checked things out, and the shooter was in the woods off to the side of the house. There were some cigarette butts there, so he'd been watching for a while. We dug a couple of slugs out of the walls in the study, so if we find a suspect, we can match them to the rifle that fired them. Right now, that's all we can do until I talk to her. I need to know who she's talked to, and who might want to harm her."
"Damn.” Shamus could feel impatience clawing to life inside him again. Intellectually, he knew that his brother was doing all he could. Emotionally, it didn't feel like near enough.
"Yeah. That about covers it.” He glanced over at the desk and the two nurses glanced away and busied themselves. “I'm going to see if they can tell me anything."
As Patrick reached the desk, the inner door was pushed open and Doctor David Ames stepped out. Ames had moved to Jamesville a little more than three years ago and thankfully showed no signs of tiring of small-town life.
Shamus strode toward him. “How is she?"
Doctor Ames waited until Patrick had joined them, giving both men a quick nod. “She's fine, but shaken. The cuts on her face and arms are superficial, and shouldn't scar. The one on her hand was the worst, but it didn't need stitches, although I did have to remove a couple of small pieces of glass. Best I can figure, she must have put her hand on the floor to push herself up and not realized she'd placed her hand on glass shards. She doesn't remember how it happened."
"Can I talk to her?” Patrick was all cop now, ready to find out the facts.
"Sure. Just take it easy, she's still very shaky.” He glanced from one man to the other. “I don't need to keep her here, so she can leave as soon as she wants, but she shouldn't be alone tonight. It's just a precautionary measure, but if she doesn't have someone to stay with her, I'll admit her for the night."
"I'll stay with her.” Shamus crossed his arms over his chest and dared his brother to object.
"Fine,” Patrick said, the muscles in his jaw working. “You can take her home after I talk with her.” He turned back to the doctor. “Where is she?"
"Second door to the left. Now, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I've got another patient to attend to."
"Thanks, Doc.” Shamus extended his hand and the doctor took it.
"You're more than welcome.” Doctor Ames gave them both a nod and went to the desk to collect another chart.
Patrick turned to Shamus. “I don't suppose you'll stay out here, will you?"
"You suppose right.” He headed for the door, pushing it inward. Second door on the left, the doc had said. His brother was muttering behind him, but Shamus ignored him.
He went straight into the room without knocking. Cyndi was sitting on the side of the bed, wearing a hospital gown over her pants instead of her top. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was bent forward, huddled in on herself. When she heard footsteps, her head popped up. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. Shamus could tell she'd been crying.
Her eyes widened when she saw him and then turned fearful as she glanced behind him. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that his brother was hot on his heels.
Shamus went straight to her, not stopping until he reached her side. “How are you feeling?” Reaching out, he cupped her jaw with his hand, tilting her head to one side to look at her injuries. The couple of small cuts were barely noticeable.
"I'm okay.” She pulled back slightly, and he dropped his hand back to his side.
"Ms. Marks.” Patrick stepped forward. “I need to ask you a few questions."
"Certainly, sheriff.” She straightened her shoulders as she faced him. “Please call me, Cyndi."
"Can you tell me exactly what happened tonight?"
Shamus noted that his brother chose not to call her by name at all. Anger began to churn in his gut.
"I went to the study tonight. I hadn't been in there since I came back and decided that I'd have a quick look.” Shamus noted that Cyndi was cradling her left hand close to her body. A white bandage was wrapped around her palm.
"Why hadn't you been in there yet?” Patrick continued his questions.
"Too many memories.” Cyndi shook her head and glanced away, chewing on her bottom lip.
Shamus almost groaned as a bolt of lust shot through him. This was not th
e time or the place, but his body didn't seem to care. Thankfully, the other two weren't paying him any attention. A growing hard-on was hard to hide. Shamus shifted his stance to ease the pressure as he concentrated on the conversation.
"Go on,” Patrick prompted.
"The first thing I did was turn on all the lights and open the drapes. In retrospect, I probably should have left the drapes closed, but they made the room so gloomy.” She rubbed her hands over her arms and then winced and pulled her bandaged palm away.
Shamus picked up a blanket folded at the end of the bed, shook it out, and draped it over her shoulders. “Better?” he asked as he carefully tucked the ends around her.
She nodded and then ducked her head. “Yes, thank you."
"And then what happened?” Patrick's gruff voice broke the contact between them. Shamus stepped to one side, but stayed close.
"I went through some things in the desk and the desk drawer, trying to get a sense of what was there. The real job will be going through the filing cabinets. Tonight was more about facing it for the first time.” She didn't give Patrick time to question what she meant by that, but kept going with her story. “I'd just been through the safe to check out the contents and had closed it again when the first window was blown out."
"Hang on. Go back to the safe. What's in there?"
"Why?” She looked suspicious now.
"Because valuables are always a motive for violence."
"Oh.” Cyndi rubbed her fingers across her forehead and winced when she accidentally used her injured hand. “Sorry. I'm afraid I'm just not thinking straight. I only glanced inside. I lucked into the combination and opened it. There are papers and some journals. I don't know what they are yet because I didn't check them. There are also some jewelry cases that belonged to my mother. I took one of them out and looked inside. It was a necklace, but not one I remember her wearing."
"What did you do then?"
"I put it back inside and closed the safe. I'd decided I'd had enough for the night.” She tilted her head to one side as if remembering. “That's right, I'd gone back to the desk and was just about to turn off the desk lamp when the first window broke. Then it seemed to happen quickly. I yanked the phone off the desk, but the line was dead. I knew my purse was in the kitchen so I made a run for it. I managed to turn off the lights as I went, grabbed my purse, and hid in the pantry. I had the card that Shamus had given me earlier today and I called him. You know the rest."
The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke j-4 Page 7
