Cyndi realized that Alicia was behind them. “You don't have to wait. I'm going to pack a few things and go check into the Jamesville Motel.” It wasn't as if there was much choice on where to stay in Jamesville.
"You're sure? I can wait and drive you."
Cyndi summoned a smile for the other woman. “I'm sure. I'll need my car and you've already done enough. Thank you."
Alicia appeared concerned, but resigned. “It's no problem. Promise me you'll call if you need anything."
"Promise."
Alicia nodded and started back to her car as Cyndi walked inside her house. The acrid smell of smoke filled her lungs, reminding her of the terror of last night. Ignoring it as best she could, she made her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. The bedcovers were in a heap from their mad scramble of the night before.
The deputy shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I'll just wait here and carry down your luggage."
"Thank you.” Cyndi appreciated his offer. She wasn't sure she had strength enough to do it herself at the moment. Her head was pounding, and her arm was starting to ache as the pain medication they'd given her at the hospital began to wear off. She looked away from the bed and went to the closet, pulling out her suitcase. It didn't take her long to fill it. Thankfully, her bedroom was on the opposite end of the house from the kitchen and her clothing didn't seem to smell of smoke.
She went into the bathroom and gathered her toiletries, her eyes filling as she spied Shamus's razor and toothbrush on the counter. Swiping the tears from her eyes, she hurried back to the bedroom and tossed her belongings inside. She only needed enough for a couple of days. She'd buy anything she missed. Zipping the case closed, she motioned to the deputy.
"That all?"
She nodded, but at the last second, detoured by the bed and grabbed Shamus's pillow, tucking it under her arm. The deputy carried her suitcase down the stairs and out of the house. She followed close behind him. He loaded her luggage into her trunk, slamming it shut.
"You're headed for the Jamesville Motel?” he asked as he ambled up to stand beside her.
"Yes.” She carefully lowered herself into the driver's seat.
"I'll tell the sheriff.” He kept one hand on the door.
"You do that.” She started the car, ignoring the fact that the car door was still wide open. “Thank you again for your help."
Taking the hint, the deputy shut the door and watched her drive away. Cyndi kept all her concentration on the road as she made the short trip to the Jamesville Motel.
She dragged her luggage into the motel behind her, ignoring the various aches and pains in her body. It didn't take her long to check in and within minutes, she was ensconced inside a room. It wasn't the most inspiring place in the world. The decor hadn't changed since the seventies, but it was clean and functional.
Shutting the door, she slung her purse onto the bed and eased her tired body down beside it. She dug out her cell phone and called the hospital. It took awhile, but someone finally told her that the patient was stable and that visiting was still strictly for family only. Hanging up, she struggled to keep her anger and despair at bay.
Knowing there was another call she had to make, she dialed the familiar number. It was answered on the third ring. “Hello?"
"Morning, Aunt Verna."
"Cyndi. I was just thinking about you."
The love and caring in the older woman's voice was too much for her. Cyndi burst into tears. Between sobs, she poured out the entire story from start to finish. Verna listened and when Cyndi was done, she took action. “I'll be there by this evening."
Cyndi sniffed, swiping at her face with her hands. Her eyes were swollen and she had a splitting headache. “There's really nothing you can do."
"I can be with you."
"Thank you.” She gave a tearful laugh. “I can always depend on you."
And don't you forget it.” Her voice softened. “Once Shamus regains consciousness, he'll ask for you. Don't worry."
"I'm not,” she lied because, truthfully, she was worried. Maybe this would be too much for him to handle and she truly wouldn't blame him if it was. But deep inside, she prayed her aunt was right.
"See you soon,” her aunt promised.
When the call ended, Cyndi tossed her phone aside. She needed a bath desperately, but she was so tired. Promising herself she'd just close her eyes for a second, she stretched out on the mattress, grabbed Shamus's pillow and cuddled into it.
His heady, masculine scent was still there and she snuggled tighter as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. The last thing she remembered was telling herself she needed to get up.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cyndi! Shamus came awake in a rush and groaned as pain rocketed through his left shoulder and down his arm. A soft, soothing voice urged him to relax and take a deep breath.
"Cyndi?” he gasped, prying his eyes open.
"No.” His sister's voice was gentle as she helped him lie back down. “You were shot and had surgery. The doctor removed the bullet, and you're going to be fine. You can go home with us in a few days if there are no complications."
Shamus frowned. “Where's Cyndi?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?” Memories of last night flooded back at him. “She's in danger and no one knows where the hell she is?"
Dani flinched at the loud tone of his voice, but continued to tuck the covers around him. “She wasn't my concern last night. You were.” Thinking for a moment, she added, “I'm sure she's fine."
A soft knock came on the door and a nurse poked her head inside the room. He recognized her as Arthur and Silas Johnson's sister. He'd forgotten that she was a nurse.
Shamus took a deep breath, momentarily ignoring the other woman. It helped ease the pain and calm his temper as he addressed his sister. “I understand. But surely Patrick didn't just let her leave."
"If you're talking about Cyndi, she left when no one was paying any attention.” The nurse pushed the door open and stepped into the room. “Right after the doctor spoke to the family and informed them that only family could see you.” She glanced at Dani and back at Shamus. “She was very worried about you though. Even when she was being treated herself, she kept asking about you."
"Cyndi was hurt?” Shamus struggled to sit up again. Sweat broke out on his brow.
The nurse came over and adjusted the bed, enabling him to semi-sit. “Apparently a bullet grazed her arm. One of the paramedics was worried about her when she practically collapsed. When we checked her out, we realized that she'd been wounded. The doctor took care of it and it wasn't serious enough to admit her.” She glanced over at Dani again. “She really needed someone to stay with her, but she said there was no one she could call."
"But she's okay.” Worry burned in his gut like acid. While he was flat on his back in hospital, Cyndi was out there all alone.
"Yes, she's fine. She'll be sore for awhile, but she'll heal."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome.” The nurse smiled at him. “I'm just going off shift now, but I'm back on in a couple days. If you're still here, I'll check on you again then.” She left the room as quietly as she'd come.
"Where's Patrick?” Shamus pinned his sister with a laser glare. He felt incredibly weak, but the adrenaline coursing through his system was giving him a boost.
"I'm not sure. He was here for a long time, but then he left. Why?"
"Because someone needs to keep an eye on Cyndi. She shouldn't be alone.” He let the statement hang in the air.
Dani sighed and scrubbed her face with her hands. “I'm sorry, okay? But when they told me you'd been shot...” She bit her lip and turned away.
Shamus hated seeing tears in his sister's eyes. “Hey.” He waited until she turned back to face him. “It's okay. I do understand. But you have to understand something, too. Cyndi is important to me and that's not going to change.” His shoulder ached like a son of a bitch,
so he took a couple of deep breaths.
"I'm beginning to believe that.” Dani shook her head as she walked over to his side and rested her hand on his forearm. “I'll try. That's all I can promise."
"That's all I can ask."
The door shoved open and his older brother strode in. “I passed a nurse in the hall who said you were looking for me.” Shamus realized the nurse must have overheard his question to Dani on her way out the door. He had to remember to find her and thank her when this was over.
"Cyndi was hurt and she's out there somewhere by herself."
Patrick dragged a hand though his hair and huffed out a breath. There were dark circles beneath his steady, gray eyes. Patrick looked tired. Shamus realized then that he'd probably been up all night long. “Yeah, she left the hospital when I wasn't looking. No, I wasn't paying attention. I didn't think she'd leave."
"She knew she couldn't get in to see me,” Shamus pointed out.
Patrick nodded, but made no apology. “Right now, she's at the Jamesville Motel. She stopped by the station and gave her statement before she headed home. One of my men said that when she dropped by the house to get some belongings, he overheard her say she was going to the motel. I've got a man watching her room."
"Good,” Shamus sighed, allowing his eyes to close for a brief moment. His shoulder was throbbing worse than a toothache.
"Are you all right?” He felt his sister's hand against his forehead and opened his eyes again.
"Yeah.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I'll be up and around before you know it."
"But not too fast.” He could see the strain on her face. Patrick had been shot a little over a year ago and he knew this was churning up all those memories for his sister.
"Not too fast,” he promised. At least not as far as he was concerned. “Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look exhausted."
"It's been a long night.” She glanced over at Patrick.
He answered his sister's unasked question. “I'll stay with him for a while."
Shamus chuckled. “I don't need a babysitter."
"I just don't want you to be alone.” She brushed a lock of hair out of his face and leaned down to kiss his forehead.
"You okay to drive?” Patrick asked.
Dani grabbed her jacket and purse from the chair. “Perfectly. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Get some rest,” Shamus admonished his sister.
"Only if you do the same,” she countered. He nodded and she came over to the bed and stroked his good arm. Sighing, she turned and gave Patrick a hug before leaving the room.
Shamus pinned his brother with a glare. “I need to get out of here. Now."
Cyndi opened one eye and blinked. The sun was streaming in through the window, practically blinding her. She started to roll over and realized that she was still fully dressed. The events of the past night slammed into her and she groaned, flinging an arm over her head. She moaned in pain as her arm began to throb, a vivid reminder of the fact that she'd been injured.
Lying on the bed, she took one deep breath after another until the pain subsided. Carefully, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and scrubbed her hand over her face. She felt grungy and dirty and she smelled of smoke.
Sighing, she levered herself off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, stopping only to grab the bag she'd packed. She was feeling shaky and knew she needed to get cleaned up and get something to eat. Cyndi flicked on the bathroom light and stared at the woman in the mirror.
Her hair was matted and dirty, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. She shuddered and turned away, grateful she'd stopped at home for a change of clothing. Everything she was wearing was only fit for the garbage.
Dumping the bag on the floor, she dug out her soap and shampoo, and placed them on the side of the tub. With great care, she eased off her sweater before removing the scrub top that the nurse had given her. She quickly toed off her sneakers and kicked them aside. Her jeans followed, leaving her totally bare. Underwear and socks hadn't been a priority last night.
Turning to the shower, she flicked on the taps and adjusted the water to the right temperature before stepping into the spray. She knew that she probably shouldn't get her bandage wet, but she didn't care. She needed to be clean.
She did her hair first, shampooing it three times before she was satisfied that it was clean. Her body was next. She soaped herself from head to toe, which took a while because she was suddenly very aware of a myriad of aches and pains all over her body. The water ran cold before she was truly satisfied, but she wasn't about to stand in the shower and shiver.
Twisting the taps, she stopped the flow of water. She stepped out onto the thin bathmat, grabbed one of the towels, and wrapped it around her body. The second towel, she wrapped around her wet hair. A quick glance in the mirror, assured her that she looked slightly better than she had. The main thing was she felt better.
Cyndi dug around in her bag and found her moisturizer. Taking her time, she smoothed it on her skin from her face to her feet. That done, she pulled on underwear. The panties were easy, the bra a bit trickier with her bad arm.
The adhesive around the edges of the bandage had loosened, so she tugged it off. The wound looked red and raw, but it would heal. She'd have to stop at the drugstore and pick up some gauze and adhesive tape to recover it. Or maybe she'd use that as an excuse to drop by the hospital.
She'd packed jeans and a few t-shirts. If she'd been thinking, she would have packed blouses instead. Buttons would have been easier to deal with then dragging a shirt over her head. Gritting her teeth, she yanked the shirt on over her head and eased her bad arm into it. She was sweating slightly by the time she'd gotten her socks and shoes on, but she felt much better than she had when she'd awakened.
It didn't take her long to dry her hair and slick on some lip balm. No makeup for her. She didn't normally wear much more than mascara and some concealer anyway, but today she was in a hurry and too tired to care.
Cyndi gathered up her dirty clothes, and dumped them in the garbage pail. Her bag, she carried back into the room and lay it on the bed. Sinking down to the mattress, she grabbed her purse and rummaged around until she found her cell phone. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Then, she placed a call to the hospital.
The voice on the other end was polite, but could only tell her that the patient was stable. Cyndi thanked the woman and ended the call. She sat there, staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying. A part of her wanted to storm into the hospital and demand her right to be with Shamus. But that wouldn't endear her to either his family or the hospital staff. They'd expect Cynthia James to do something like that.
All she could do was patiently wait until Shamus was conscious and asked for her or called her. He had her number. She glanced at her phone and groaned. It was almost out of power and her charger was home on her nightstand. She'd better run out to the house again today and get a few more things.
Her stomach growled and she glanced at her watch. It was just after one o'clock in the afternoon. She'd slept for a couple hours, but hadn't eaten since supper last night. She thought about getting some room service, but decided that was cowardly. She'd done nothing wrong.
Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door. She'd go to the diner for a late breakfast and stop at the pharmacy to pick up some supplies before she ran by the house. Then, she was going to the hospital again. Maybe Shamus would be awake enough to want to see her by then.
Filled with determination, Cyndi grabbed her purse and left the room, locking it behind her. The air had changed since this morning, turning crisp, almost cold—a reminder that it was almost the end of October. She hadn't thought to pack a jacket. Something else she needed to remember when she stopped by the house.
Cyndi glanced around, but the parking lot was quiet as she hurried to her car. For some reason, she felt extremely nervous, like someone was watching her.
"Shake it off. E
verything is fine,” she assured herself. Still, she couldn't rid herself of the feeling. She kept her eyes open as she drove, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Unless, of course, you counted the fact that someone was obviously trying to drive her out of town, if not outright kill her.
Her stomach lurched, and she tightened her hands on the wheel. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to stand and fight, but wondered if it was the right thing to do. Shamus had been shot because she hadn't left. Whatever she was going to do, she'd have to decide soon. The attacks were escalating. Who knew what would happen next?
She lucked in to a parking spot just down and across the street from Jessie's. Climbing out, she slung her purse over her good arm and looked both ways before she started across the street. The sound of an engine roaring to life reached her, and she glanced up in time to see a large, dark pickup bearing down on her.
She thought she heard someone yell out her name.
For a second, she froze. Then survival instinct kicked in and she threw herself back. She almost made it. The driver swerved toward her, clipping her with the front right fender. She careened off another parked car before falling to the pavement.
It all happened so fast that she didn't even have time to scream. Tires squealed. Several people yelled and she moaned as she tried to roll onto her back.
"Don't move."
She must have hit herself harder than she'd thought if she was hallucinating that Shamus was leaning over her.
"Hi.” She smiled as she reached up her hand to stroke his face. It was too hard though and her hand fell back down to the ground with a thud. “They won't let me see you, but I'm coming back to the hospital anyway.” His gorgeous, blue-gray eyes darkened with fear and she hurried to reassure him. “I won't let them keep me away,” she promised.
"How is she?” Patrick's face appeared next to Shamus and she frowned. She didn't want him in her hallucination.
"I'm not sure."
Shamus appeared pale; sweat beading on his forehead. Reality slammed back into her. This was real. Someone had just tried to run her over. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in hospital.” She struggled to sit up, but he held her down easily with one hand.
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