Death Stretch (22 page)

He closed his mouth. “Okay? That easy?”

I nodded. I hurt and it’d be nice to have someone take care of me. I hadn’t had that since my parents died fourteen years ago.

He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead and straightened. “I’ll be back to pick you up later. The doctor said he’d release you at three o’clock.”

When my brain formed the words, “you don’t have to do that,” I shut it down. He had a need to pick me up and I wouldn't deny him. Maybe that’d help both of us get past what had almost happened last night. Besides, I had a hunch it’d be awhile before I felt safe in my bungalow.

****

Dirk pushed my wheelchair to the hospital doors himself. The nurse didn’t fuss, just handed me off like a pro quarterback passing the ball to his fullback. Not that I cared. They'd given me a shot. I hoped my brain had enough self-preservation cells left to keep me from spouting something stupid. Or worse, mushy. Euww.

He tucked me into the front seat, gave the nurse something to blush about and slid behind the driver’s wheel. “Ready?”

“You bet.” My hand made a gesture meant to be grand. “Home, Dirk.”

He grinned and pulled into traffic, wisely making no comment.

I fell asleep on the short ride and woke up groggy. Dirk threw his arm over my shoulders, holding me to his side. His support kept me from tripping and sprawling at his feet.

His offer of food and drink didn't seem as important as additional sleep, so I staggered down the hall and into his bed. Dirk leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest.

“I've got to go to the station for awhile. Can I trust you here or do I have to tie you down?”

I licked my bottom lip and considered his offer. “How about you trust me now and tie me later?”

His dark eyes gave me his nonverbal answer. “A soak will do you good. I'll fire up the spa before I leave because the water takes a couple of hours to heat. Should be ready when I get home.”

How had I missed the hot tub? We'd have a hot time in the old tub tonight. My hand covered my yawning mouth. “Sounds great.” I'd already rolled onto my side, eyes drooped half shut.

His voice drifted to my ears. “Don't answer the door or go outside until I return.”

“'Kay.”

Chapter Nineteen

My eyelids flew open. My heart pounded. I didn't know why I'd been jerked awake. Supported on my arms, I listened but everything remained quiet.

Then I heard scuffling outside the window, a ping of pebbles against the glass. I lifted my head. A small boy ducked behind the azalea bushes at the back fence. As I watched, he crouched down and picked up a handful of pebbles.

I slowly rolled out of Dirk's bed, glad I’d remained dressed. My throat ached, and I felt stiff and sore, but I could deal with a small mischief-making boy. I heard more pinging against the window as I left the room. A minute later, I walked onto the deck.

“Hey, stop throwing those pebbles. You could break the window.”

No answer. Not even birds chirped. The soft hum of the spa's pump filled the air. “I know you're out here. I saw you hide by the azaleas.”

The boy edged out from behind the bushes, but before I could make another move, he darted into the adjoining yard.
Kids
. I made a mental note to tell Dirk he had a potential juvie living next door. Can't turn ’em around too early.

Curious, I moved to the spa for a glimpse of the tub I'd be sharing with Cop Sexy later. I lifted the cover. Sunshine reflected off the water. I winced.

Maybe the pain medication had made me more reckless than usual, but the water's movement hypnotized me. Removing the sectioned Styrofoam cover, I knelt next to the spa.

My gaze caught sight of a sharpened piece of metal lying next to the tub, right under the lip. A garden stake?

I took a closer look, picking up the metal. The stake held pleasant warmth, but I almost dropped it. Darn thing weighed more than I expected. “Basil” had been scrawled at one end. Next to the tub seemed a strange place for safety-conscious Dirk to store a sharp marker, no matter how decorative.

Glancing over the deck, I spotted the reason. A stack of clay pots stood nearby, next to a man-sized bag of potting soil. The tips of other stakes peeked out from a flat of herbs.

Cop Sexy grew his own herbs. He probably had more food in his refrigerator than me too.

The warm metal felt good on my scabbed palm. Plus I couldn't quite pull myself together to move, so I sat contemplating the kind of tough guy who'd grow and label plants. Heck, for all I knew, the stakes and soil were a legacy from his former marriage.

The water’s reflection caught my attention again and I reached to test the heat. Warm, chemically treated liquid sloshed over my hand, Nice, but I needed a step above tepid. Even with Cop Sexy by my side the temperature wasn’t optimal.

A shadow appeared on the water. At the same time I heard a soft shuffle behind me. Dirk had gotten home earlier than I thought. Crap. He'd be all over me for leaving the house.

The whiff of an expensive scent hit my nostrils. Dirk smelled great, but this odor was perfume, not aftershave. Ginger would have announced herself.

Not Dirk. Not Ginger. Trouble.

Before I could scramble to my feet, a solid push had me sprawled halfway in the water. Crap, not again. Had Justin gotten out on bail?

I flailed. I'm no weakling but the painkiller's effects had left me loopy. If I could get oxygen and a chance, I might survive.

My attacker had determination and a small hand size. A woman, then, not Jason. She didn't let up. I reached behind me to free myself. No dice. I still held the garden stake in my left hand. I turned it face backward. With waning strength, I jabbed up and back.

The attacker's hand let up. Drops of blood landed in the water. I arched my back. Levering my knees against the spa's side, I pushed up and pulled in oxygen. Good thing I did. My still unseen assailant rammed my face back into the water.

The air and reprieve from death fired my blood. My brain cleared. I jabbed the garden stake backward again and again.

More blood floated in the water around me. I didn't let up, just kept my arm moving fast and hard. My vision grayed, my lungs labored. If I hadn't made the high school swim team, I couldn't have withstood the attack.

Pulling strength from despair, I wrapped both hands around the garden stake. I put everything I had into what could be my last defensive move.

The attempt worked.

The hand holding me down slipped away.

I surfaced, gasping for air. I inched my hands up the spa's inner surface, not letting go of the garden stake.

Finally, I pulled free of the water and collapsed next to the spa.

My lungs worked overtime, pulling in oxygen and expelling fear. Luckily, I didn't have to move fast. The would-be murderer lay close by, in worse shape than me.

Bright red hair and thick black glasses were the first items I noticed about the woman. Who the heck was she?

My blurred vision kept me from making an immediate identification. Finally her rock of a wedding ring gave me a clue.

Flash.
I’d kept saying she was a criminal but seeing made me a believer.

Slashes from the garden stake decorated her upper body and arms. Blood seeped out of the wounds where she lay sprawled. One part of me hoped I hadn't killed her, another smaller part hoped I had. I might have been shocked at the thought if I weren't so angry. Okay, probably not.

She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. “Bitch. Shoulda got you in the cemetery.”

My grasp on the stake loosened. Flash had shot at us? “How’d you know we were at Graceland? And why kill us? We didn’t do anything to you.”

“Followed you.” She hauled in a breath. “Took Morgan. Mine. He was…best thing…ever happened.”

Revenge. Flash would think and act like a soap opera diva, but murder was too much.

“Has everything. Coulda left him for me.”

“Ginger’s in love with her husband. She wasn’t interested in Morgan.”

“Figures.” She closed her eyes.

Flash’s last words had slurred and she didn't look like she'd be getting up. Still, I held the stake in front of me with two shaking hands. That's how Dirk found us.

He knelt next to me and pulled me into an embrace. His eyes took in the scene. He let go with one hand to phone in a report. That done, he cradled me to him. “I told you not to leave the house.”

Surprisingly, his accusation didn't hold much heat.

“The little juvie next door woke me up.” I paused to shiver and tried to stop my teeth from chattering.

Dirk pulled a towel from a nearby lounge chair and wrapped it around me. “You mean Johnny? He's not a JD. He's four.”

“Don't know his name.”

Dirk tightened his hold on me. “He's usually a good kid. He knows not to come over when I'm not home. I wonder what brought him here?”

My shaking had slowed, but a tremor raced through my body. I didn't think it possible, but Dirk held me tighter. Any more clinch and I'd be breathless again.

“I v-v-vote Flash.”

The hot sun and Dirk's body heat did their number on my physical shakes. The effects of shock remained, but the major shuddering faded.

I guessed Dirk could tell I'd recovered a bit. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I'll wait.” I only wanted to tell this story once. Or maybe twice, the second time at Flash's trial.

Sirens wailed and grew closer. I eyed him. “Don't you want to change your shirt? Or let go of me before backup arrives? I'm okay with the towel.”

“Screw it. I don't care who knows about us. Do you?”

“Not really.”

Chapter Twenty

The paramedics bundled Flash onto the gurney and wheeled her off. Meanwhile, the moon-suited techs were back and I'd been shuttled to another part of the yard.

Dirk sat on a lounge chair about five feet away. With him were his neighbor Johnny and Johnny's mother. I rested my head against the chair's back and listened to the little boy's fluting voice.

“Johnny, why don't you tell me what happened, okay? You're not in trouble. We only need to know what you were doing in my yard. Your mom told you not to come over when I'm gone, remember?”

Dirk’s soothing voice had me ready to drift off. The rhythmic thuds from Johnny's heels hitting the metal frame slowed and stopped.

“Can you tell us what happened?”

Johnny's chair squeaked. The webbing swished. This I had to see.

The boy crossed both his arms and legs and peeked at Dirk from under his eyelashes. I swanee, all young boys must attend a “get out of trouble with a cute look” class. Looking at Dirk, I realized some of the little monsters never outgrew it.

Johnny uncrossed his arms and rubbed his nose. “The lady with the red hair and glasses gave me a dollar. She said she was Dirk's girlfriend and she wanted to play a trick on him.” A big tear ran down his cheek. “But when the door opened, it wasn't you. It was the black haired lady.” He stuck out his lower lip. “She yelled at me for being in the yard.”

Johnny's mother put her hands on her son's arms. “You know you aren't supposed to talk to strangers.” She gave him a little shake. “Or be in this yard without permission.”

“But, Mom, the lady said she was Mr. Dirk's friend.”

His mother gave a universal mother's frustrated sigh. She raised an apologetic look to Dirk. “I'm sorry, Dirk. He's just so fascinated with you, it's hard to keep him away.”

I raised a cynical eyebrow. His mother looked like she shared her son's fascination.

“I'll speak with my husband. We'll figure out how to give you more privacy.” She looked my way and winked.

I could have been wrong about the mom.

Johnny plucked at Dirk's wet shirt. “I didn't know she was a bad lady.” He ducked his head. “I'm really sorry, Mr. Dirk.”

“You ran back home, right? You didn't see anything after the second lady yelled at you?”

I watched Dirk with Johnny. He took care to make sure the kid wouldn't have nightmares about two women in a death struggle. Nice.

“I didn't see nuthin'.”

The pressure in my chest relaxed. No kid should have to see violence, not anywhere, real life or television. That was my hot button and I stuck to my opinion. No wonder I didn't want kids.

Exhaustion overtook me. I closed my eyes and let the heat and murmuring voices act as a balm. Young boys, money and dirty tricks. A potent combination. And smart. Her trick had gotten me outside. That still didn't explain Flash's attempts to have me arrested for murder. Or her subsequent attempt to do me in.

The annoying thoughts faded and I slipped into sleep.

****

Dirk and Ginger sat across from me when I struggled to consciousness. I tensed, afraid I'd been transported back to Northeast Medical Center. The dim lighting and comfortable bed convinced me Dirk had kept his promise about keeping me out of the hospital.

Their soft conversation stopped when they noticed me stir. They wore identical expressions of alert worry.

“I'm fine.” My raspy voice belied my words, and Ginger offered water.

The room was so quiet I could hear Dirk's phone vibrate. He seemed undecided but answered in a soft voice. He rose and strode out.

My friend clasped my hand. “Katie, I'm sorry I got you involved in my mess. I should have gone to the police when I got that first blackmail note.”

“Sweetie, that wouldn't have changed a thing. Once Morgan died, all bets were off.”

“But no one should have gotten hurt. Keeping the threats quiet seemed so easy, and I didn't want to be a victim.” She paused. “You're so strong, Katie. I thought some of your courage would rub off on me.”