Читать книгу The Men In Uniform Collection - Barbara McMahon - Страница 39

CHRISTIE FROZE, terror swallowing her whole. He was here. In her house. Afraid to move at all, she did shift her head enough that she could see the end of the hallway. All she could make out was a dark shape, nothing clear, and not enough to figure out who he was.

“All right,” Boone said, in the voice he used to calm her down. “Just cool it. I’m putting down the gun.”

How could this bastard tell that Boone had a gun? Night vision, like in the cameras. Shit, he could see them, but they couldn’t see him. And how had he gotten in?

“Slowly,” the bastard said. “Try anything tricky and I’ll kill you.”

“All right.”

Christie heard a thump as Boone’s gun hit the carpet. Now that she’d heard the voice a second time, there was something familiar about it, but she couldn’t connect it to anyone she knew.

“Now get up. Both of you.”

Boone squeezed her hand quickly, then started to rise to his knees. She knew the bastard meant business, but she couldn’t move. If she kept breathing like she was, she was going to hyperventilate again, and God knows what he’d do to Boone. She longed for her baseball bat, but she had no idea where that was. The gun in her waistband should have been a comfort but she couldn’t figure out how to get it out and aim and shoot when she couldn’t even see him.

“You, too, Christie. On your feet.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, ashamed at how her voice trembled.

“Just get up.”

She tried to move—honestly, she did—but her legs were stiff and the pressure on her chest was too heavy. Bracing herself on the mattress, she pushed herself up and then she remembered the flashlight.

How could she get it when her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her toes? She wanted to be brave, to save the day, to be Sigourney Weaver facing the alien. But she couldn’t even get her hand to move to the side of the mattress.

It was right there.

“You want me to shoot him? Is that what you want, Christie?”

“No,” she said. “I’m just scared, okay? So it’s hard.”

“Scared? You don’t know scared.”

Boone got to his feet, keeping his hands in the air. “I’m going to help her, okay? One hand down.”

“No. She can do it herself.”

It sounded as if he were closer. He’d moved a couple of feet, she thought. More in the living room than in the hall. She took a deep breath, and as she let it out, she moved her left hand those few inches beside the mattress. Her fingers touched the cold metal of the flashlight, and she gripped it so tightly she could feel the switch dig into her skin.

“You,” the bastard said. “Move away. Get off the mattress.”

“Sure,” Boone said. “Whatever you say.”

The bastard laughed. “You think that’s going to work on me? You moron. I’ve seen it all. Everything. You think you found all the cameras?”

“No, I’m sure we didn’t.”

“Just shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from you. Christie, stop stalling. Do it.”

Boone was now farther away from her, but she could at least see him in the hazy light coming through her curtains. It was more difficult to see where the bastard was, as the hallway was so far from the window. There was nothing to do but try. It would have to be quick and sure, and she was neither.

But Boone was counting on her. There was no doubt in her mind that the bastard would shoot to kill.

She pulled her legs under her, balanced on her right hand. The flashlight was under the edge of the blanket, so she knew the bastard couldn’t see it.

“What do you want from her?” Boone asked.

“What did I say? Did I tell you to shut up?” The bastard’s voice had risen to a shout.

“What did she do to you?”

“Boone,” she said, “shut up.”

“I just—”

“Shut up,” she said, louder this time. Everything would be over if the bastard turned away. She had to keep him looking at her, watching her. “I know what he wants. And I’m going to give it to him.”

The bastard laughed, and the sound made her sick to her stomach. It was as if all his twisted desires were right there in that low laugh.

She held her breath as she got to her feet, holding the flashlight by her side, making sure her finger was on the switch. “Tell me what you want,” she said, needing his voice to get her bearings. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

“I know you will. You’ll do every single—”

She turned on the switch at the same time she pointed the light straight at his voice.

He yelped, and then she heard a crash. Boone was on him, and they were both on the floor, the bastard’s gun glinting in the beam.

“Your gun,” Boone screamed, and then he took a blow that knocked him to the side.

She ripped at her T-shirt and got the Glock. She was holding the flashlight and she didn’t want to drop it, but she’d never fired the gun with one hand.

The two men were still on the floor and she’d never been so scared in her whole life. If that prick hurt Boone, she’d kill him a hundred times.

Their grunts and punches sounded flat and unreal. If she could just get the gun over to Boone, it would all be okay. She tried to steady the light, but when she did, she saw that the bastard was hitting Boone with the butt of his weapon, and Boone was bleeding badly. He punched the son of a bitch, but it only stopped the fight for a moment. The gun came up again, smashing against Boone’s temple.

She couldn’t aim the gun, not when she was shaking so hard. Boone’s words came back to her, telling her what to do.

She climbed over the mattress and didn’t let herself think, she just went to where he was bashing Boone with the gun and she had to stop him, right now. She threw the flashlight down, held her gun with both hands and pushed it into the bastard’s side, right there, right where he was lifting his arm to hit Boone again, and then she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

It was the safety. She cursed and slipped the safety off, but then her legs were knocked from under her and she fell so hard her head bounced off the carpet and she couldn’t see or feel anything but pain.

The gun, her gun, was ripped out of her hands, and she curled up into a ball waiting to feel the bullet rip through her body. The sound of the gunshot made her scream and she jerked, but she didn’t feel anything except the pain in her head. All she could think was that Boone had to be okay. He had to or she would die.

“Christie.”

Hands on her shoulder, shaking her and she couldn’t open her eyes or stop the scream that was building in her throat.

“Christie, I’ve got you.”

She gasped as she opened her eyes. It was Boone, standing above her, swaying back and forth.

He lurched away to the hall, and the light blinded her painfully. When she looked up again, Boone was leaning against the wall, his face bloody, his right eye swollen. Her gun was in his hand, and dripping.

She struggled up and went to him, needing to make sure he was really there, that they were both still alive. She touched his shoulders then pressed herself against him, and when he looked down at her, that’s when she cried. Her tears flowed as she looked at his bruised and bloody face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” she said. Then she rose up on her toes and kissed him.

He grunted, but he kissed her back.

She tasted his blood, but she didn’t care. They’d made it. They’d lived. She was in Boone’s arms.

When she finally pulled back, she caught his wince. His mouth was really banged up, his lip split at the corner. “Oh, God, you’re really hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. He nodded past her. “You recognize him?”

She forced herself to look at the body lying on her carpet. “Oh, God.”

“Who is it?”

“Dan. The guy I…It’s Dan.”

“He won’t be—”

The front door flew open and Seth ran in, weapon drawn, his face a mask of rage. It took a moment for him to register that it was already over, and even then he went to the body, and kicked away Dan’s gun, then checked his pulse. As he crouched there on the carpet, he looked at the two of them. “Sorry. He didn’t trip any of the alarms. We didn’t know until we heard him talking.”

“I don’t know how the hell he got in,” Boone said. He closed his eyes. “I’m thinking crawl space.”

Seth came over to her and touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

“We’ve got to get Boone to a hospital. And call the police.”

“We can’t call the police,” Seth said. “And I’ve got a first-aid kit in the truck.”

“What are you talking about? He’s dead. We have to call the cops.”

Seth shot a look at Boone. “He wasn’t just a stalker. He couldn’t be, not with his equipment. We need time to check it out. And we won’t get that time if the police are called in.”

“You think he’s a spy? That makes no sense. What could a spy want with me?”

“We don’t know,” Seth said. “That’s what we need to find out. Now let me go get the first-aid kit, and you take care of Boone.”

“I’ll be okay,” Boone said. “Seth, have you called Harper?”

“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” He left, closing the front door behind him.

Christie stared at the closed door for a moment, still trying to process that Dan, who’d seemed so very normal, had been the one who’d destroyed her life. She didn’t believe it about him being a spy. He had a practice. She’d been to his office, and there had been real patients there. If this was about Nate, it still didn’t make sense. He hadn’t told her anything. Ever. Her gaze went back to Dan’s body, and she thought about that laugh of his. That wasn’t about spies or Nate. He’d wanted to hurt her. Make her suffer.

The bastard had put cameras in her home to watch her in her most private moments. He’d gotten her fired from her job, had the IRS seize her accounts…She looked at Boone, who looked as if he might fall down any second. He didn’t appear to have any life-threatening injuries, but God, he looked awful. “I don’t understand,” she said. “How did Dan get the IRS to do what he wanted?”

Boone shook his head, although the movement was tentative. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”

She nodded, but her thoughts had turned to Milo, who was so still. She went over to him and touched his head, terrified. He was warm, and better than that, he opened his eyes a bit. As she ran her hands down his flank, she found the dart and pulled it out of him. He didn’t even whimper. “What did he do to you, sweetie? My poor baby.”

Boone turned on the living room light so she could look at Milo more carefully. He didn’t seem too bad, just lethargic, but she wouldn’t believe he was okay until he was checked out by the vet. She stroked him over and over, her anger and confusion so overwhelming that she started shaking again. “Please be okay,” she whispered. “Please.”

Seth came back in, this time with Kate. He carried a large black bag, and Kate had something gray and bulky in her arms. They were both dressed in dark clothes and Kate had her hair tied back. Seth put down his bag then checked out the nasty cut on Boone’s forehead. “You’ll live,” he said. “We need the keys to her car.”

Boone had them from their last foray outside, and he handed them over. “That’s Dan,” he said. “The psychologist.”

Seth looked at the body. Jesus, the dead body. Christie sat back on her heels, the enormity of what they’d done hitting her like a brick.

“We’ll find out everything we can,” Seth said. “Check out his house, find his car.” He went over to Dan and without hesitation explored his pockets, retrieving a key chain and wallet. “Christie, why don’t you take Boone into the kitchen and clean him up.”

She stood on shaky legs and headed for the kitchen, not looking down, trying not to think about what Seth was going to do with Dan’s body.

Boone brought the big black bag with him and put it on the kitchen table. When Christie sat down, she studied his face and saw that there were only two gashes. They’d bled a lot, but neither of them were bad enough to need stitches. The bruises were a lot more severe. His eye was already turning colors and so was his left cheek and the side of his mouth.

She got up, touched Boone on the shoulder as she went to the sink. She got a couple of clean dishcloths, wet and soaped one, then went back to him. He watched her with his good eye and submitted quietly to her ministrations, only hissing once when she cleaned the worst of the cuts.

After he was clean, she got out some bandages, studiously avoiding the scene in her living room. “Boone, how can we not go to the police?”

“It’s going to take us at least twenty-four hours to check out this guy. If the police are called, they’ll send someone to his house, and they won’t wait for us to finish. And there’s no way we can hold the body until we’re through. Trust me. It’s for your protection, too.”

“Someone’s going to miss him.”

“Most likely, but they won’t connect him to you. Seth will make sure of that.”

“I hate this. I hate that I knew him. That I dated him. I don’t understand why.”

“We’ll figure it out, okay? But you have to trust us.”

“I do,” she said, carefully pasting a butterfly bandage to his forehead. “I trust you.” She examined her work, and decided all he needed now was ice for the bruises. “You know, I thought I’d be relived,” she said. “I’m not.”

“You will be. We’ll go see my hacker friend, Larry, as soon as it’s light. By the time we get back, the house will be yours again. No cameras, no microphones. Nothing at all to remind you of him.”

Seth came through the kitchen and went into the garage. A few seconds later, she heard her car start up. Of course. He’d have to remove the body in secret.

When she looked to the living room, she saw that Kate’s bundle had actually been a body bag. Dan was inside it, in the hallway. Her carpet was matted with his blood, already turning a sickly brown. She thought about what he’d done to her bed, and her anger rose again. There was no doubt at all that they’d killed him in self-defense. If she had remembered to unlock the safety, she would have shot him herself. The man was evil, and he deserved what he got. It didn’t make it easier not to call the police, but if Boone said they couldn’t, then she’d sign on.

He’d saved her, and almost gotten himself killed in the process. He’d involved his friends, putting them all at risk. How could she ask him, any of them, to do more?

She thought about her brother, and how much these people must have cared for him to do this for her. Wherever he was, she hoped he was proud, and as grateful as she was.

“Stay here, okay?” Boone said. He went to the living room, where Seth waited. She hadn’t even heard him walk back from the garage. Kate was with them, but when Christie glanced into the kitchen, she headed toward the table.

“Hey, you all right?”

“I think so.”

Kate sat down. She looked tired and anxious. Christie had the feeling this was harder for her than it was for Boone and Seth. Kate wasn’t a soldier. She’d clearly been involved in some horrible things, but the guys, they were used to all this covert stuff, trained for it until it had become second nature. Kate had been with the UN, and there was no way covering up dead bodies was part of that protocol.

“We’ll have to replace the carpet. We’ll remove it now, and we’ll have someone we can trust come in with a new one. You want the same thing?”

Christie sat back in her chair, laughter bubbling from somewhere deep. Carpet choices? Now? “Yeah, the same carpet will be fine.”

“Great. It’ll all be over soon. You’ll have your life back. That’s gotta feel good.”

“I don’t believe it. Not yet.”

“Sure,” Kate said. “That’s understandable.”

Christie leaned a little closer to her as the men carried the body bag through her kitchen. “Do you really think he was a spy?”

Kate shrugged. “Best to cross all the t’s and dot the i’s. None of us can afford to leave it like this. But for what it’s worth, I think he was obsessed with you. I heard him, and even over the speakers, there was a lot of twisted passion in his voice.”

“Yeah. I heard it, too.”

“There’s no way this was anything but self-defense. You’re not getting away with murder. Got that? You did good, and with any luck at all, you’ll be able to put all this behind you.”

Christie leaned back on her chair, suddenly so tired she could hardly hold her head upright.

“Why don’t you get some rest? We’ll take care of things out here.”

“Milo.”

“We’ve got it covered.” Kate stood up. “He’s going to be fine. And so are you.”

Christie wanted to believe her.