by Cara Summers
A bullet cracked the display window behind them.
He held on to her tightly for a second. “Sierra, are you all right?” He was pretty sure he’d tackled her in time, but it had been close.
“Yes. Ryder, it’s you. Thank God.”
Shifting slightly on top of her, he pulled his gun out of his waistband. When he tried to lever himself away, her arms grabbed him like a vice.
“Don’t get up. They’re shooting at us.”
“I noticed. You stay put.” As he pulled free, he glanced around. It was just as he feared. The display windows that angled from the sidewalk to the door of the shop were not going to provide much cover. Crouching, he moved to the edge of the entranceway, then risked a quick look through the window. The man Sierra had clocked with her bag was still holding his face, and blood was streaming through his fingers. The other good news was pedestrians and sightseers had ducked into doorways or stores. The bad news was the man with the gun was only ten yards away.
A bullet cracked the glass right over Ryder’s head. He drew in a deep breath, dove out of the doorway, and rolled. Prone, he aimed and fired three times.
The shooter’s gun hit the sidewalk first. The man followed. After springing to his feet, Ryder kicked the gun out of the man’s reach as he sprinted toward the corner. The van was half a block away, and he could only make out three letters on the license plate. GBH.
Dammit, he wanted to give chase. They’d taken Mark Anderson, and they’d damn near snatched Sierra Gibbs. There’d been that one endless moment when he’d been sure they would. He wanted to get his hands on them.
He scanned the street for some kind of vehicle—a bike or a motorcycle. Luck wasn’t with him. Swearing under his breath, he checked out the parked cars, but he was out of luck there too. They were all of the upscale variety that would require precious seconds to break into and hot-wire. It was only in movies that private investigators or cops were able to conveniently commandeer cars and give chase. Real life wasn’t like that.
He was turning to check on Sierra when he spotted a leather case lying next to the curb. Stooping, he picked it up. The initials M.A. were embossed on the cover, and inside was a Palm Pilot. He slipped it inside his pocket and turned.
What he saw had his fear, fury and frustration vanishing in one wave of surprise. Sierra Gibbs was leaning over the body of the man he’d shot as if she tended to wounded men every day. He hurried toward her.
“He’s still breathing,” she said as he reached her. She’d rolled her jacket up and was using it as a pressure bandage on the man’s side. “I’ve called 911.”
Her voice was steady, and when she glanced up at him, he saw that her expression was calm, and she appeared to know what she was doing. This woman was a sharp right turn from the nervous woman he’d first spotted through the window of the Blue Pepper. The contrast fascinated him. “You amaze me, Doc. I never pictured you as the Florence Nightingale type.”
“When I was growing up, my sisters always took more risks than I did. The least I could do was to learn how to deal with the results of their adventures, so I took a first aid course. You got him in the shoulder too, but I don’t think it’s serious.”
He placed his hands over hers and helped her increase the pressure. “I like your style, Doc.”
A siren sounded in the distance, and people began to step out of the doorways they’d ducked into. Sierra didn’t take her eyes off his. “I’m not sure what to think about yours. They kidnapped your friend, you carry a gun and you shot this man.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Who are you, Ryder Kane?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the squad car pull to the curb. “That’s easy, Doc. I’m the man who just saved your pretty little butt.”
And I’m in danger of becoming stuck on you. Ryder was pretty sure he hadn’t said that out loud. Still, it gave him pause. There was never any predicting when one of his flashes of intuition would strike, but this one stunned him. He’d sensed that she’d be different for him. But he certainly didn’t intend to get stuck on her. That wasn’t his style.
As an ambulance pulled in behind the squad car, Ryder gathered his thoughts. “It’s my turn for a question, Doc. Just who are you that this man you’re nursing would want to shoot you?”
5
RYDER DIDN’T LIKE police stations. They were smelly and noisy, and once the cops learned he did private investigative work and ran a high-tech security firm, most of them didn’t particularly like him. However, the dapper-looking detective who’d been interrogating him for the past hour and a half was not most policemen.
For starters, Matt Ramsey was very well dressed—designer suit, gold watch—and he’d walked into the room with two mugs of coffee. Good coffee. Ryder’s guess was that it had been French-pressed. He’d also brought in a file folder and a book, and so far, he hadn’t mentioned either one.
The tall, soft-spoken Ramsey reminded Ryder a bit of Peter Falk’s seemingly bumbling detective in the old Columbo series. Of course, Ramsey dressed better, and he didn’t appear bumbling at all. But both detectives sought in their own way to disarm their suspects, and what Ramsey shared in spades with the fictional Columbo was thoroughness and a razor-sharp mind.
That was one reason why Ryder had allowed the detective to take him through his story three times. Another reason was because he could see Sierra in a similar room on the other side of the squad room. There was a woman with her, and Ryder recognized her as one of the two Sierra had joined at the Blue Pepper the night before. The cop sister, he surmised. As long as Sierra was within view and was safe, he could afford to indulge his curiosity. And he was curious about the file and the book that were sitting on the table next to Ramsey’s now-empty coffee mug.
“And you have no idea why Mark Anderson wanted to talk to you?” Ramsey asked.
“You’ve asked me that question three times.”
Ramsey smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes the third time is the charm.”
Ryder leaned forward, his patience suddenly stretched thin. “If you aren’t going to arrest me, I’d like to leave. My story isn’t going to change, and you’ve had plenty of opportunity to check it against the other eye witness’s story.”
Ramsey met his eyes. “You’re referring to Dr. Sierra Gibbs?”
“I am.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Is she the reason I’m getting the star treatment?”
For a moment, Ryder thought he saw something in Ramsey’s eyes. Respect?
But all Ramsey said was, “Star treatment?”
Ryder waved a hand. “Decent coffee and a detective who doesn’t look as if he’s slept in his suit.”
This time it was a flash of humor that appeared in Ramsey’s eyes, and for the first time since he’d come into the room, the detective smiled. “Okay, I guess I’m busted.”
“Who are you and why are we wasting time when we should be trying to find out who snatched Mark Anderson and who shot at Dr. Gibbs?”
“In answer to your first question, I work on a special task force that handles high-profile cases in the Capitol District. And you rate what you refer to as the ‘star treatment’ partly because it’s Mark Anderson who’s been kidnapped and partly because my partner is Detective Natalie Gibbs, Dr. Gibbs’s sister.”
“So…you and your partner have a personal interest in this case.”
Ramsey nodded and tapped the manila file folder he’d brought into the room. “Personal enough that we ran a background check on you. You want to know what we found out?”
Ryder leaned back in his chair. “Sure.”
“Not a hell of a lot. Most of the files we brought up when we ran your name are classified. Working in DC, I’ve run into that kind of thing before. You were trained in the marines, and then drafted into Special Forces, and you’ve done some secret work for the government. That has me suspecting black ops.”
Ryder said nothing, but his respect for Ra
msey went up another notch. There weren’t many men who’d have dug up as much.
“There’s a gap between the time you left the service of your country and opened your security business here in DC. I don’t suppose you’d like to fill me in on that part of your life?”
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so. Then there’s the fact that in your current line of work, you’ve crossed paths with several of my colleagues and they give you mixed reviews. All in all, you have the reputation of being damn good but a bit of a rogue,” Ramsey finished.
Ryder shrugged. “I’ll plead guilty to both of those.”
Ramsey’s eyes remained steady on his. “How about answering my earlier question? How well do you know Dr. Gibbs?”
Not as well as I’m going to know her, Ryder thought. What he said aloud was, “I told you I ran into her for the first time last evening at the Blue Pepper. I talked with her briefly on the phone today and asked her to give a message to Mark Anderson because I was going to be late for the meeting I’d scheduled with him.”
“Two conversations total?”
“That’s correct.”
“You asked a woman you’d only just met to deliver a message that put her life on the line.”
“If I’d known—” Ryder cut himself off and clamped down on the anger he was feeling. What Ramsey had said was nothing less than the truth. He’d put Sierra in the path of that bullet. “I’m fully aware that what I asked Dr. Gibbs to do nearly cost her life. I was there. If she hadn’t clocked one of them in the face with her bag, they’d have shoved her into that van with Anderson. Having failed that, plan B was to shoot her.” He rose. “If we’re though here, I’d like to start finding out what the hell Anderson is involved in. Have you talked to the man I shot?”
Ramsey shook his head. “I have men at the hospital. He’s still in surgery. The prognosis isn’t good.”
“What about the partial license plate I gave you?”
“We’re working on compiling a list of vans with those three letters.” He shrugged. “Problem is you weren’t able to tell what state it was from.”
“In other words, so far you’ve got squat.”
“We know from Dr. Gibbs that Anderson spotted someone in the bar and she saw a man follow him out. And we’ve got the book Anderson left behind. His instructions were to give it to you. You’d know what to do.”
Ryder examined the book that Ramsey pushed across the table. It was the size of a textbook and the title was Vietnam: The Unsung Heroes. He noticed that a page was marked and discovered that the bookmark was one of his cards. Favors for a Fee. Ryder skimmed the page, which seemed to be about Vice President John Gracie’s platoon in Vietnam.
“Mean anything?” Ramsey asked.
Ryder shook his head. “All he told me was that he had something he wanted my perspective on. He didn’t mention Vietnam or the vice president, and I’m certainly no expert on either one. But he did mention something hot and political. I suppose the VP would certainly qualify as hot and political. As I mentioned, the connection was lousy. Anderson’s editor at the Post will know what stories he was working on.”
Ramsey nodded. “He says that Anderson was working on the vice president’s upcoming visit to Korea and the administration’s push to bring them to a nuclear arms agreement. In his spare time, he’s working on a book on the vice presidency. That could be why he bookmarked the chapter on Gracie’s service in Vietnam. According to his boss, Anderson is a fan of Gracie.”
Ryder shrugged. “So are a lot of people. He’s a war hero, and as politicians go, he seems to be one of the good guys.”
Ramsey nodded. “I sent two of my men over to Anderson’s apartment. The place was trashed, and his computer—if he kept one there—is missing. As soon as we’re done here, Detective Gibbs and I will be going over to the Post to look through Anderson’s office.”
“I’ll go with you to the Post.”
“No. I think I have another job for you.” Ramsey tapped the manila folder in front of him. “You also have the reputation of being a straight-shooter. You better be telling me everything you know.”
Ryder thought of the Palm Pilot that was in his jacket pocket. If he turned it over, there was no telling when he’d see it again, and he was sure that Mark had left it for him. He leaned forward. “If I had any more, if I had even a hunch what this was all about, I wouldn’t be here letting you grill me. Tonight Sierra got put on somebody’s hit list. I intend to get the bastards.”
Ramsey nodded. “We’re on the same page with that. But there’s the little matter of protecting Dr. Gibbs while we do that.”
“I’ll take care of that part,” Ryder said.
“Okay.” Ramsey gave him a brief nod. “I won’t lie to you. That’s the answer I wanted. The District doesn’t have the resources to assign someone to her twenty-four/seven. But now I’ll ask the question that my partner’s going to want to know the answer to. Is there anything personal going on between the two of you?”
“I told you that I met her at the Blue Pepper for the first time last night, and today I talked to her on the phone.”
Ramsey studied him. “A personal relationship could get in the way of protecting her.”
Ryder leaned forward. “I won’t let it. She wouldn’t have been shot at tonight if I hadn’t asked her to deliver that damn message. I know that and you know that. I’ll keep her safe. You have my word on that.”
Ramsey leaned back in his chair. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of persuading you to let my department handle the matter of finding out who kidnapped Anderson.”
Ryder’s answering smile was grim. “Not a chance in hell.”
SIERRA WATCHED Natalie pace the length of the interview room for the fifth time. Pacing was the way her sister had always worked off steam.
“You’re angry with me,” Sierra finally said.
“No.” Natalie turned and started down the length of the room again. “I’m angry that someone took a shot at you. And I’m furious with Ryder Kane. He’s the one who dragged you into this mess. If he was in the room right now, I’d—”
“He saved my life.”
“Yeah. Well, it was the least he could do since he put you in that bullet’s path in the first place.”
Sierra said nothing for a minute. Out of habit, she reached into her bag and closed her fingers around her inhaler. Just in case. She had to think of a way to tell Natalie what she’d decided, and her sister was not going to take it well.
She wanted to have a sexual relationship with Ryder Kane. Just saying that silently to herself made her tighten her grip on her inhaler. She wasn’t even sure when she’d reached her decision. It might have been during that long boring speed date with Richard Parker. But she had a suspicion that a part of her had decided during that first kiss.
She took a quick sideways glance through the glass and saw that he was still seated across from Detective Matt Ramsey. His sexual profile was eons away from hers. And perhaps that was part of his attraction. Still, it scared her a bit.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. But she didn’t seem to need her inhaler. She wasn’t at all sure she could figure out a way to let Ryder know what she’d decided. And she was pretty sure a step-by-step plan would be pretty useless. Those had always been her security blankets in the past.
Maybe it was time she got rid of the plans. Maybe this new person she was beginning to discover inside her wouldn’t need them. Curiosity, fear and excitement bubbled up. She felt as if she was going to walk a tightrope without a net.
Glancing up, she saw that Natalie was still pacing.
“Anger won’t solve anything,” she said. “It will only cloud your thinking.”
Natalie drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “Thank you, Dr. Gibbs.” But her gaze went to the glass wall, and Sierra knew that she was looking bullets at Ryder. “What do you know about him?” Natalie asked.
“A lot and nothing.” How was she going to expl
ain to Natalie what she wasn’t sure of herself?
Natalie turned back to her, a question in her eyes.
“On some level, I feel this connection to him, as if I’ve known him for a long time. It’s hard to explain. I know we like the same movies, but I have no idea what he does for a living or anything else about him except that he saved my life by shooting a man down on the street tonight. No matter how much I try to analyze it, I can’t figure out why I should feel this sense of kinship. Unless it’s the chemistry.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Chemistry? Time out. Just when did you discover that you and this man you’ve only met once have chemistry?”
“When I ran into him at the Blue Pepper last night, he kissed me and I kissed him back.”
Natalie stared at her. “You kissed a man you’d never met before?”
“I know it wasn’t part of my plan. Step one was a speed date. And I kissed him before we even had the speed date. I kissed him before I even knew his name. I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”
“I thought you said that Ryder Kane wasn’t at the Blue Pepper tonight.”
“He wasn’t.”
Natalie frowned. “Then when did this speed date take place?”
“We had a speed date over the phone. Just before he asked me to deliver the message to Mark Anderson.”
Natalie shook her head as if to clear it. “Let’s go back to the kiss and the chemistry.”
It seemed to Sierra that that’s what she’d been doing ever since Ryder Kane had kissed her. Clasping her hands together in front of her she said, “The kiss just happened. And it was…amazing. I’ve never felt that way before in my life.” And she very much wanted to feel that way again. She met her sister’s eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense, and it doesn’t fit with the steps I laid out in my plan, but I think he’s the one I want to have a sexual relationship with. It’ll probably just be a fling, but—”
