by DiAnn Mills
“No, thank you,” Kariss said again. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead, then realized the same hand had blood covering it.
“Is this gentleman a part of the problem?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure, ma’am? We’re here to protect you.”
“He is a good man. Innocent of what just happened. I assure you.”
“All right. I can’t let you drive, and you need medical attention.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Is there anyone we can call?”
“Yes, sir. Special Agent Tigo Harris of the FBI.” She closed her eyes as emotion and pain threatened to overtake her. “I have his number.”
CHAPTER 34
Tigo drove to the address where Kariss waited with an HPD officer. The police called the incident an attempted carjacking. But Tigo knew better. The Arroyos were not giving up. Getting rid of the Jaguar hadn’t made a difference. Could this be about Xavier? He’d have to think about that angle … Xavier, Delores, and Kariss.
He pulled into the strip mall where the crime had taken place and exited his truck. Crime-scene tape roped off the area around Kariss’s Prius while media vans hovered like vultures. Tigo’s attention flew to the dark-haired woman sitting on the curb beside the police car, holding a cloth to her shoulder. Blood stained the left side of her white blouse. An ambulance was parked there, too, but none of the paramedics were working on her. Odd, since she obviously needed medical attention. Xavier stood next to her.
Tigo wanted to find out what the two were doing at that location when she was supposed to be driving back home. He saw a reporter push his way past the crime-scene tape to Kariss, and Tigo hurried after him. She didn’t need the media obtaining a statement and flashing her name and face across Houston. Tigo recognized the reporter as the man who claimed to have history with her. Mike McDougal. What had she ever seen in him?
Tigo flashed his badge at those hovering over Kariss. “FBI, move aside, please. This is a crime scene, and you can be arrested for interfering with an investigation.”
McDougal refused to budge.
“Sir, I asked you once to step away.”
The reporter had a cocky look about him, and he still needed a haircut. “I’m talking to Miss Walker.”
“Looks to me like she needs medical attention, not an interview.”
The sight of blood staining her shirt made Tigo furious. This wasn’t Kariss’s fault. He’d allowed her to accompany him and Ryan to the hospital to question Jo-Jack, and now the Arroyos were after her. This jerk McDougal knew her name and would splash it across the front page.
“Sir, I’m Special Agent Tigo Harris.” He shoved his ID in McDougal’s face. “I’m asking you one last time to step aside.”
The reporter stepped back and aimed his camera.
“No pictures or I’ll have to confiscate your equipment.”
The police officer cleared his throat. “You heard the agent. Or would you like me to arrest you?”
McDougal backed away, then frowned at Tigo. “Hey, I saw you with Kariss at the hospital. What’s going on?”
“None of your business, and I suggest you leave her alone. I’ve had enough.” Tigo bit his tongue to keep from saying anything that could put Kariss in danger. Neither she nor the FBI was in the market for unneeded publicity.
“Looks like you have more than a professional interest in her,” McDougal said. “But I’ll honor the FBI.” McDougal took several steps back from the crime scene.
Tigo turned to the police officer. “Thanks for what you’ve done. What happened here?”
“An apparent carjacking. We spotted the crime taking place. Unfortunately the man responsible fled the scene. Miss Walker refused the paramedics’ help.”
Tigo stared into Kariss’s pale face. “Are you okay?”
“Just my shoulder.”
“Why not let these people patch you up?”
She shook her head. “I … I just want to get away from here.”
He understood. He wanted her safe and out of view too. “I’ll take you to get it looked at.”
“I don’t want a hospital. Someone could follow us.”
Fear had wrapped its clutches around her. “We’ll talk about it along the way.” He turned to Xavier and greeted him in Spanish. “Are you all right?”
Xavier nodded. “Miss Walker did a brave thing. She knocked the man’s gun from his hand.”
Kariss handed Tigo a bloodstained shirt.
“Use this until you have a bandage,” he said, handing it back. Later he’d find out more about Kariss’s heroism, after her shoulder was bandaged. His heart had taken a dip with her, and he wanted her free from pain. “Where can I take you?” he asked Xavier.
“I’ll drive myself. My brother’s house is not far from here. Miss Walker needs to see a doctor.”
“Great. I’m going to get Kariss medical attention immediately then.”
“I saw the man who assaulted her, but I’ve never seen him before.”
“I’d like to talk about the events leading up to the attempted carjacking. Possibly have you help us identify him. Can I reach you on Gilberto’s phone?”
“Yes, sir.” Xavier stiffened. “He didn’t want the car. He wanted Miss Walker.”
Just what Tigo suspected. “What were you and Miss Walker doing? She called me from the nursing home. Said she was heading back to her house.”
“We parked here to talk.”
Later he’d find out what the topic of conversation had been. “A unit has been dispatched to the nursing home. We’re close to finding Delores. Thanks to you.”
Xavier nodded. “Call me and I’ll tell you all I know. The police have already questioned me.”
Tigo turned to study Kariss’s face. She was pale, her eyes dilated. He’d pelt her with questions after a trip to the hospital — no matter how much she protested going. This time he wouldn’t leave her side. “Let’s go.”
She clutched her upper arm. Blood dripped through her fingers. “What about my car?”
“We’ll pick it up later.” He took her arm and linked it in his. They walked toward his truck.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t know who else to call.” Although she attempted to sound strong, the fear in her eyes told him otherwise.
“You were wise to call me, Kariss. This will be okay.”
“I was afraid you’d be angry.”
“Don’t think so.”
“Good. Now we both have battle scars.” She smiled, but her lips trembled.
He wanted to lecture her. Shake her. “We’ve been lucky. I think today was an experience you can use in your book.”
“I’m better at writing about painful situations than experiencing it.”
He helped her inside his truck. “How bad is it?”
“I could lie and say it’s nothing. But I’ll do my best not to bleed on your truck.”
“As if I care.” He started to close the door, but she held out her hand.
“Tigo, I memorized everything about his face. And he wasn’t the shooter from the hospital.”
“That’s my girl.” The words were spoken before he realized what he’d said. Closing the door, he hoped she hadn’t paid attention. Once inside, he started up the engine and lowered the AC.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’m miserably hot.”
“Sure it’s not your shoulder?”
“Hmm. Could be. I didn’t want to give the officer any information. Was I right?”
“You handled the situation just fine.” He cleared his throat. “Kariss, I told you hanging out with me was dangerous.”
“Too late. I’m already there. Can your doctor at the med clinic fix me up?”
“I’m taking you to the hospital. That gives us more time together.”
“So is this a date?”
He wished it was. Maybe when this was over. “Kariss, we’d kill each other.”
“We’re headed there now. Thanks f
or getting Mike out of the picture.”
“No problem.”
“We dated for about four months once. Definitely not one of my better choices. He told me he needed a thousand dollars to help his sister pay for his five-year-old niece’s medical expenses. She had juvenile diabetes and was getting progressively worse, or so Mike said. I gave him the money, then he bragged to a couple of other reporters about betting the money at the races. No sister and no niece.”
“I’m sorry.” One more reason why Tigo didn’t like the guy.
“Just wanted you to know.”
He glanced her way. “Lean back and close your eyes. I want you to think one more time about taking a vacation. Give us time to bring these guys in. You could relax and write without looking over your shoulder.”
“No thanks. I’ll be more careful.”
For the first time, he was glad she had a gun, even if it was at her condo. She’d look real good taking a gun class on Saturday with her injured shoulder. A real war machine. “I hear you have a few mean moves.”
Her eyes were closed. “Self-defense. One of my characters had to learn it, and the best way to write about it is to do it myself.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Kariss wanted to cry. Her shoulder hurt, and she didn’t want anyone touching it. But what choice did she have? How did Tigo endure this on a regular basis? After receiving medical care, including five stitches, Tigo drove her to the office. She wanted to take pain meds and go to bed, but that would come after she helped him ID the shooter. After all, earlier he’d called her an agent.
She learned the man who had accosted her was in the system.
“We have his fingerprints on the gun,” Tigo said. “He won’t be on the streets for long.”
What about Cheeky and the others the FBI were seeking? she wondered. She’d have that conversation when she felt better.
“I’m taking you home.” His announcement came like a command.
“I’m concerned about my car. I’m afraid if it’s left overnight in that area, it’ll be gone.”
“Okay. I’ll send a couple of agents after your car,” Tigo said. “We’ll park it here.”
“How will I get to the office in the morning?”
Tigo ran his fingers through his hair. “I saw the type and dosage of your pain meds. You’ll sleep till noon tomorrow. But call me when you wake up so I know you’re okay.”
How sweet. “I’m wondering if I should go to the media with this. You know, make a statement about someone being after me because that person thought I’d seen a crime.”
“Not a good idea. You’d be giving your name and background info. Perfect for an assassin.”
She cringed, but Tigo was right. “I hate being helpless.”
“Let us handle the Arroyos. You came here to get a story about Cherished Doe. Go home. Get some rest, and work on that next bestseller.” His words were sincere, which was exactly what she needed.
After insisting she take a couple of pain meds, Tigo drove her home. They stopped at the security gate of her complex, and she gave him her code to enter into the keypad.
“Write down those numbers,” she said. “Never thought I’d be doing this, but I want you to have them. Just in case.”
He pulled out his ever-present notepad and jotted down the numbers. “What about your blood type and social security number?”
“Those are private.” Oh, her bed sounded good. The meds were doing the trick. “Hey, what did you say to Mike McDougal?”
“Told him you and I were seeing each other and not to mess with the FBI.”
“You didn’t.”
He chuckled. “I implied the situation.”
“Better hope today doesn’t make his blog.”
He groaned with another realization that he’d let his feelings for her affect his professionalism. “I agree.” He parked his truck in the visitor area. “Can I have your keys?”
“I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside my condo.”
“I have a feeling I might need to carry you.”
“I’m not that bad.” She forced her eyes to stay open and handed him her purse. “Side pocket. I could use the help. You know the drill — for research.”
CHAPTER 35
Wednesday morning, Tigo worked at his desk. Kariss hadn’t called, and he was certain she’d not be into the office the rest of the week.
He clicked on the fingerprint report from the man who’d shot Kariss. Lucky Perez had done a three-year stint for robbery and was linked to Arroyo gang activity. The man must be working on his initiation. Now she’d upset two men who wanted her dead. Tigo printed the man’s pic and information.
He walked to the squad board and pinned the new findings. One more face. One more name in Operation Wasp. He and Ryan were working on a weapon’s deal with Cheeky where they’d offer guns cheaper than their current source.
Soon he and Ryan would have them nailed.
Tigo walked back to his desk and saw an email from the FIG regarding Arnold Bates’s client file. He clicked on the attachment and scanned the list, recognizing a few names and businesses, all of which he’d have the FIG check out.
Tigo whistled. Phillips Commercial Realty Company was listed. He found Ryan at his desk. “Have you seen Bates’s client list?”
Ryan stood and stretched. “Haven’t checked email for the past thirty minutes. Who’s on the list?”
“Wyatt Phillips.”
“The one who was married to Kariss’s sister?”
“The same. Is this a coincidence, or is there more to the story about the woman who assaulted Kariss?”
“How does our resident writer manage to keep both feet in trouble at all times? I mean, look at the size of this city!”
“Does make me wonder about a few things. What do you think about taking a look at Phillips’s phone records?”
“Go for it. What do we know about his girlfriend?” Ryan said.
“When I drove out to her and Phillips’s house, she was cooperative. Expressed her regret to Vicki and Kariss. Apologized for not being available when I called. Thought it was a prank call.” Tigo huffed. “Right. After I just talked to Phillips.”
“If Kariss hadn’t been approached by a woman who offered vague reasons for following them, I wouldn’t mess with Phillips or his girlfriend. But something’s not right. I want the woman found so we can question her. If this is about a man who’s trying to dig up dirt about his ex-wife, then fine. But if the woman was really tailing Kariss, that’s another matter.”
“It will be interesting to compare Bates’s and Phillips’s phone records.”
“Makes sense to me,” Tigo said. “Oh, I received a call from Derek Kyowski. Our disguises will be ready in a week.”
Kariss surfed through TV channels before drifting off to sleep. Her shoulder throbbed, but that would soon fade into oblivion. No way could she drag herself to the FBI office. She barely had the strength to make it to the bathroom. Writing this suspense novel had gotten way out of control.
Her laptop lay open on the bed beside her. She’d attempted to title the novel again. The list consisted of: Cherished Doe, Red Greed, Never Forgotten, Dark Greed. Today wasn’t monumental in the creative department.
She’d subscribed to a website that allowed her to search through newspaper archives. Nothing about abandoned children fit Xavier’s situation. Weariness crept through her body, and her shoulder slowly numbed.
Her cell rang. She saw the caller was Tigo and muted the TV.
“Did you miss your Starbucks?”
“I figured you wouldn’t make it in today, and I picked up one myself.”
“Checking up on me?”
“Of course. Wanted to make sure you were resting.”
“Trust me, I am. Just took another pain med, so I … might drift off while you’re talking.”
He chuckled. “I have that effect on women. I shouldn’t have bothered you, so I’ll ask a quick question. Have you ever sus
pected Wyatt Phillips of criminal activity?”
She lay back against the pillow, her mind beginning to fog. She swallowed hard and focused on her response. “Immoral, yes. Criminal, no. He isn’t smart enough to weave that intricate of a web. Thinks with his … Never mind. Vicki caught him and his present girlfriend … together at their house. A criminal mind would have shown discretion and intelligence.”
“Is this the sister talking or the medicine?”
“Both. But he does like his money. When Vicki left him, he hired a lawyer who somehow proved Wyatt was penniless.” Her words slurred. “His financial records show the real estate company had taken a beating during the recession, and their home had a huge second mortgage.”
“What about their joint savings and checking accounts?”
“Disappeared. Vicki didn’t have the money to hire an attorney who could investigate the situation. She packed up her belongings and moved to an apartment. The house sold in a few weeks. And … and his girlfriend bought a home for them in The Woodlands.”
“I’ve been there. Pretty impressive for a woman serving tables. I’ll need to check that out. Interesting. Say, how long ago was …”
Kariss couldn’t stay awake any longer. Neither could she muster the words to speak.
CHAPTER 36
By Friday, Kariss had cabin fever. As much as she loved her spacious condo, she missed people. Tigo had delivered her Prius last night, and he’d given her orders not to drive while taking the pain meds. Today she vowed not to take any of the little white pills.
But she needed a heavy dose of something other than herself. She’d immersed her energies into helping Xavier and had come up with nothing. She was writing a book with no one to represent or publish it. Every thought turned inward. Depressed, she needed to center on a project that didn’t deal with crime and greed. That meant her parents or one of her siblings. Self-centered people didn’t make good contributions to society, and she intended to leave a legacy. She picked up her cell to call Vicki for a lunch date. Her sister worked the afternoon shift at the hospital this week and might want to talk about her pregnancy or Wyatt. After setting a meeting time of noon, Kariss realized she had two hours to figure out how to explain her shoulder. Even her shirt couldn’t cover the bulkiness of the bandages.
