“Someone’s shooting.”
“But why?” She shuddered. Over the music from the band she didn’t hear any shots. Guns should make noise, shouldn’t they?
“That argument we heard must have escalated,” Sam said, stretching over her to shield her with his body as he peered beneath the van. “I can’t tell where the shot came from.”
She lifted her head to look past Sam’s shoulders. At the corner of the garage she could see two men. One of them was pointing a long, silver handgun at the other. Oh, God. She parted her lips to warn Sam, to tell him to look behind him, but her voice wouldn’t come. She tried to swallow, but somehow that took more strength than she had.
Like a slow-motion horror movie, the scene unfolded in front of her eyes. The gun jerked. One man crumpled. And the other simply slipped the gun under his jacket and turned away. His red hair gleamed under the lights from the driveway for a split second before he disappeared into the shadows.
Something important just happened, Audra realized dimly, but for the life of her she couldn’t make out what it was. She dropped her head back to the pavement. She panted, wincing at the sharp pain that stabbed across her middle. Her side was on fire. But that didn’t make sense because the rest of her was so cold.
Sam’s face was grim as he crouched beside her and extended his hand. “Come on. I’m getting you somewhere safe and then I’m calling for backup—” His breath hissed out, his gaze riveted to his hand. It was glistening with blood. “What the... You’re hit!”
“It’s probably just some glass,” she said. Or thought she said. Her eyelids felt so heavy.
“Goddamn it, Audra! This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
No. None of this was supposed to happen, she thought groggily. But that’s what she got for falling in love.
Sam crushed the paper cup in his fist and hurled it at the wall of the waiting room. What the hell were they doing in there? He should have gone in with her. He shouldn’t have let the doctors take her away. She was his responsibility. Everything was his responsibility. His fault. Goddamn.
“She’ll be fine, son. Audra’s a fighter.”
Sam clenched his fists at his sides as John McPherson stopped in front of him and squeezed his shoulder. Couldn’t they see that he didn’t deserve their sympathy? He’d involved her in this. He’d failed to protect her. And now it was his fault she had a bullet in her lung.
“She has to be all right.” Dabbing her eyes with a sodden tissue, Constance stepped into her husband’s embrace. John pulled her close, pressing his cheek against the side of her head.
They’d stood like that before, Sam remembered. In their backyard, when they’d heard the news about Jimmy’s disappearance, John had held his wife the same way. They were both tense with worry, but they drew strength from each other. That’s what people who loved each other did. And now their worry was for Audra.
God, she’d looked so pale. He should have noticed the blood sooner. It was all over his hand, all over her white blouse, darkening her pants, puddling on the pavement...
Closing his eyes, he turned away and rubbed his face hard, but the image wouldn’t fade. He’d probably take it to his grave. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone shot. He’d seen far worse, and he’d likely see far more. But this was the first time, the only time, it had been someone he...cared about.
The admission was a hard one. Yes, he cared about Audra. She mattered to him. A lot. He liked being around her. He liked her wry humor, her generous warmth and her air of innocence. Sure, they were all wrong for each other, but that didn’t stop him from caring.
He should have been the one to take the bullet, not her. She hadn’t wanted to be involved in this case in the first place, but he’d assured her there wouldn’t be any danger. Xavier had wanted him to wear a wire, but he’d been too arrogant to take his advice, so sure he could handle the job his way.
Yet he hadn’t kept his mind on the job, had he? He’d let himself get distracted. He should have gotten Audra out of there sooner, as soon as Fitzpatrick and Hasenstein had left them alone. But no, he’d only been thinking of himself, of his own need to kiss her one last time. And then when he’d known there was trouble brewing, instead of wrapping up and getting out, he’d stayed in the open with her and left her vulnerable—
“I know she’ll pull through.”
He dropped his hands from his face. Judy reached out to lay her hand on his arm, her eyes brimming with tears. “God wouldn’t be so cruel to take her now, just when she’s finally found some happiness. We have to have faith.”
“They should have told us something,” Sam muttered. “What’s taking them so long?”
“You’re wearing yourself out. You should rest, or get something to eat. We’ll let you know—”
“I’m not leaving her,” he said.
Judy blinked. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “Of course, you wouldn’t leave her. You love her.”
Another load of guilt got dumped on the growing pile. None of Audra’s relatives knew the engagement was a farce. It had been the furthest thing from Sam’s mind when he’d put in the call to the paramedics. And then when they’d reached the hospital, he hadn’t seen any need to reveal the truth. Hell, that’s how he’d managed to stay with Audra as long as he had, by claiming to be her fiancé.
Later, when she was out of danger, he’d have to tell her family. And if she didn’t make it...
Sam wrenched his mind away from that possibility. He couldn’t conceive of never seeing her again, or hearing her voice or feeling her touch.
But when she’d asked to see him again, he’d said no. She’d offered him what he’d feared the most—wanted the most—and he’d rejected her. So she’d told him to go away. She’d told him to leave her alone.
Guilt—it had to be guilt—tore through him like a physical pain. Pulling away from Judy, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strode down the hall.
The elevator doors slid open as he passed. “Tucker?”
Sam glanced over his shoulder. Xavier Jones stepped from the elevator and walked toward him. Sam swallowed a curse. He didn’t want to deal with this now. For the first time since he’d joined the force, he didn’t care about his job. And he didn’t give a damn about his case. It all seemed so meaningless when Audra was lying on a table under the knife of a stranger—
“How is Miss McPherson?” Xavier asked, getting right to the point.
Sam shrugged stiffly. “They have her in surgery.”
“How did it look when they brought her in?”
“Bad. She lost a lot of blood.”
Xavier fell into step beside Sam as he walked. “Has she said anything?”
“She hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“Let me know when she does. We need to question her.”
“I don’t think she could have seen anything. I didn’t hear the shots. The music was loud, but not that loud, so the gun must have had a silencer. The whole thing doesn’t make sense.”
“Falco’s dead. Single shot to the heart. Judging from where we found the body, you two were in the line of fire.”
“Falco? We overheard an argument between him and Fitzpatrick earlier, but we didn’t see anything.”
“Neither did Bergstrom. His view was blocked by the garage. It’s possible that it could have been a stray bullet that hit Miss McPherson, but it’s also possible she’s a witness. Either way, it was a botched hit. It’s not Fitzpatrick’s usual style to let his men leave loose ends like that. I’m betting that if you hadn’t called us in when you had, the body wouldn’t have been found at all.”
Sam stopped in front of the window at the end of the hall and gazed blankly at the night sky. All he saw was Audra’s face, her eyes closed, her lips drawn back in a grimace of pain. Another image flowed over the first, Audra as he remembered her seconds before she’d been shot, when she’d firmed her jaw and lifted her chin with a different kind of pain.
He’d said h
e hadn’t meant to hurt her. The lies were really stacking up, weren’t they?
“Sam, are you listening?”
Breathing hard through his nose, Sam tried to focus his thoughts. “I want Audra to have protection. Station someone outside her room, round the clock.”
“You said you two hadn’t seen anything.”
“I don’t want to take any more chances.”
“It’s probable that her shooting was accidental rather than deliberate. Considering the way you were out in the open, if someone was trying to kill you, you both would have been dead. Unless I know she’s a witness, I can’t justify—”
“Then I’ll stay. It’ll be on my own time.”
“No, I want you downtown. I need your report.”
“To hell with the report, Lieutenant.”
Impatience flashed behind Xavier’s impassive policeman’s expression. He grabbed Sam’s elbow and gave him a hard shake. “Settle down, Detective. This is no time to indulge your emotions. One man’s dead and a civilian’s injured. I need to know what happened tonight.”
Violence simmered just beneath the surface. Sam wanted to smash something to vent his rage. He was angry at the situation, at the endless cycle of crime he’d devoted fruitless years to fighting. At fate. Most of all, he was angry at himself.
“I want you downtown,” Xavier repeated. “We have to move fast if we want to put the information you obtained on Fitzpatrick to use, so I need the details—”
“Not now, Lieutenant,” he said through his teeth. A woman in surgical greens was headed for the waiting room. Sam yanked his arm from Xavier’s grasp and strode toward her.
She was floating. Wafting weightless in a cotton batting world. It was so warm and cozy, drifting here among the shapeless, colorless puffs of nothing. She didn’t want to leave. But there was a glow. A pinprick of red piercing her comfortable dream. It grew slowly. Pain. It was pain that tugged on her, pulling her back to consciousness.
She struggled to open her eyes. The lids were so heavy. Why were they so heavy? Why was she so weak? Where was she? What was that beeping noise?
Gathering her strength, Audra managed to open her eyes a tiny slit.
She was lying on a bed with metal rails. Tubes in her arms. Cool air flowing into her nose. Pain as if a truck were parked on her chest.
She looked down. No, there was nothing but a white blanket and a fold of blue. A nightgown. Not her nightgown. Not her bed. But Sam was here.
He was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his arms crossed on the blanket beside her hip, his head pillowed on his arms. His hair had fallen over his forehead, his eyes were closed. Dark stubble shadowed his cheeks and deepened the lines beside his mouth. Poor Sam. He looked so tired.
She thought she’d seen him there before, when she’d drifted in and out from her cotton batting dream. Or had she? Her mind was as difficult to focus as her eyes.
Sam jerked awake. He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. His face moved into a smile when he met her gaze. “Audra,” he breathed. “Hi.”
She parted her lips, but the only sound she could make was a moan.
“It hurts, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” He stroked her hand, his fingers gentle. “I’ll get the nurse to give you something. Hang on.”
She wanted to hang on, but she could barely move her hand. He clasped it between his, his touch pushing the red pinprick of pain back into the haze. Sighing, she let her eyes drift shut. It would be okay. Sam was here. She loved him.
It was mid-afternoon when Audra woke up the next time. The pain that had muddled her brain had receded to a rumbling throb. She squinted at the light that flooded the room.
“I think she’s waking up.”
It was her mother’s voice. Audra blinked and slowly opened her eyes. “Mom?” It was a croak instead of a word. She tried to swallow.
“Yes, I’m here. So’s your dad.” Constance moved toward the head of the bed, into her range of vision. Her cheeks were wet, but she was smiling as she leaned over to press a kiss to Audra’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Don’t know.”
“Here, the doctor said you’d be thirsty.” Her father was on the other side of the bed, holding a blue plastic tumbler. He guided the straw between her lips as she lifted her head and fought to swallow. Cool water trickled down her throat, easing the dryness. “Thatta girl,” he murmured.
Exhausted, she dropped her head back on the pillow. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital, Audra,” her mother answered, stroking her cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re going to be fine.”
Snippets of memory flitted past. She’d been at the wedding. She’d been talking to Sam. There’d been pain. She frowned, trying to piece the memories together. “Sam was here.”
“Yes, he was here all night. He wouldn’t leave your side until the doctor promised you were out of danger. We finally talked him into going home to change clothes.”
“He looked so tired. What happened?”
Her mother hesitated, pressing her lips together. Audra turned her head toward her father. “Dad?”
“You...you had an accident.”
“What kind of accident? Was I driving? Is Sam okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine, baby. Don’t worry.”
The memories crowded her mind, jostling for position. The wedding. Jumping from a window while glass shattered. No, the glass was from her van. Sam lying on top of her. Blood. Pain. “What happened?” she demanded, looking from one parent to another. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Please, don’t get upset,” her mother murmured. “You need to rest.”
Glass flying. Sam pulling her down, shielding her with his body. Something...wrong. Blood. Heat. Cold. “Oh, God.”
Her father placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “I’m not sure how it happened, but someone was killed at the Fitzpatrick estate last night. Evidently, you were hit by accident.”
“What do you mean, I was hit? The glass couldn’t have...” She drew in her breath too quickly and pain stabbed down her side. “I was shot?”
“But you’re going to be fine,” Constance said immediately. “They were able to take the bullet out and you’ll be as good as new in no time.”
Audra lifted her hand, trailing an intravenous tube as she cautiously touched her fingers to her side. There was an ominously thick padding under her gown. She remembered the impact that had spun her around, the searing agony in her back and her side, the blood that had flowed over her ribs... “I was shot,” she repeated numbly. “I can’t believe this. I was shot.”
“Let me tell Sam you’re awake,” her father said, patting her shoulder. “I promised I’d call him.”
“Sam.” More memories stirred. A kiss behind a velvet curtain. Wonderful, crazy feelings. Her heart pounding. Adrenaline. A conversation beside her van. Sam telling her it was over. Sam saying it was just an act....
The events of the night before, everything that had taken place before the blur of pain, finally clicked into place. Whatever drugs they’d given her hadn’t dulled her brain sufficiently. Before she could slam the door shut on her thoughts, every word, every feeling of that final conversation with Sam came back to her in a merciless rush.
The job was over. Their association was over. There was no need to deceive anyone, especially herself.
Oh, God. She’d been shot. But before she’d been shot, she’d been dumped. Rejected. No, it hadn’t been as dignified as a rejection. It was a dismissal. A denial.
She couldn’t face him again. Not now. Not ever. “No,” she said.
“What?”
“I don’t want to see him.”
“But honey, he loves you,” her mother said. “He was so worried.”
That’s what she got for falling in love.
The thought popped up from nowhere. No. It was wrong. It was all an act. “He lied. He doesn’t love me,” she said, closing her eye
s. “Tell him to go away.”
“Oh, Audra. Sam’s already seen you. He won’t be bothered by those needles.”
They were deliberately misunderstanding her. Did they think she cared what she looked like? “Where’s the ring?” she asked, flexing her left hand.
“Your ring? It’s right here beside you. I’ll put it back on your finger.”
“No.” She inhaled slowly, steeling herself against the pain in her side. And the pain in her heart. “Give it back to him. We’re not engaged.”
Chapter 11
Sam raked his fingers through his hair impatiently as the elevator whined its way upward. He’d been gone almost two hours. He’d left the number of his cell phone with the nurses and with Audra’s father, and had called to check on her twice while he’d been down at the station with Xavier, but no one was telling him anything.
The minute Sam stepped from the elevator, he knew something was wrong. Judy and Constance were standing near the nurses’ station, their heads together as they spoke in subdued tones. Judy looked up briefly as he passed, her gaze brimming with a mixture of sadness and sympathy before she quickly averted her gaze. His stomach twisting, Sam lengthened his stride as he headed down the hall. He never should have left her, even for a minute. But the twins had said they wouldn’t let anyone in who wasn’t hospital staff or family. And there still wasn’t any indication that the shooting had been deliberate....
Before he could reach Audra’s room, the door opened and John McPherson stepped out, followed by Jake and Christopher, their faces wearing identical scowls.
“What happened?” Sam asked. “Is she all right? What’s going on?”
John glanced at his sons before he answered. “Audra woke up an hour ago, but she’s sleeping now.”
“Has the doctor seen her?”
“Yes, she has. She says so far there don’t seem to be any complications.”
“Thank God.”
“Audra’s still weak. She needs rest.”
“I won’t wake her up,” Sam said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll just sit with her.”
Engaging Sam Page 17
