Hidden in the Shadows (32 page)

“’Ria, oh Ma-reeee-uhhh, I know you’re in there,” he sang loudly, drawing out the words. “Answer the door, honey.” He followed the singing with hearty laughter. Thumping on the door again, he continued with the drunken ruse.

“Sweetheart, I just want to talk. I’m sorry about what I said. You’re nothing like your mother. Please don’t be mad at me.” He began a steady thumping on the door and sang again.

Jason’s voice whispered in his ear. “She’s coming to the door. Whitaker’s staying in the kitchen.”

Wyatt prayed as he never had before that Maria would understand what he was trying to do, and that he’d be able to pull her to safety before Whitaker could do anything about it.

Chapter Forty Eight

Maria was so scared she was afraid she might wet her pants or throw up, or both. After Wyatt had called a few minutes earlier, Whitaker had become even more animated, pacing back and forth in the small kitchen. He’d turned his focus inward, only keeping a cursory eye on her. Muttering to himself, he stopped pacing when her phone rang again.

“Well, looks like lover boy really wants to talk. Too bad you aren’t available.”

The phone stopped ringing, but then immediately started again. They both jumped when a loud pounding sounded at the front door, followed by horrible off-key singing. In an instant, Maria realized what Wyatt was doing.

“What the hell?” Whitaker took two steps toward the door, then turned back to her, his eyes narrowed.

“Stupid man, he’s probably drunk again.” Tears clogged her throat, and she couldn’t say any more as Wyatt thumped a few more times on the door.

Whitaker smiled. “I’ll take care of that.” He leveled his gun at the door.

“Doug, no! Please. Let me get rid of him. If you kill a cop, you won’t be able to run far or fast enough.”

He wavered, her words carrying weight. As crazy as Whitaker was, he wasn’t stupid. “You’ll give the game away,” he accused.

She shook her head frantically. “No. He’s drunk, Doug. He’s done this before.”

“You’re lying! I’d have heard about that.”

“He’s the sheriff. Nobody will hear about this unless he wants them to. Do you want to see the scars he put on me?” Turning her back, she pulled her shirt up and showed him the healed wounds from the fishhooks. “Why do you think his wife killed herself? It wasn’t just because she was sick. She killed herself to get away from
that
.” Shaking, she pointed toward the door where Wyatt had gone back to singing.

“Fine. Just get rid of him or I will. Don’t try anything, or I’ll kill both of you where you stand, consequences be damned.” Gesturing with the gun, he stood back and let Maria pass.

As she hurried down the hall, she nearly bit through her lip in an effort to keep from screaming with fear. She knew she had to stay calm, or they would both die. “I’m coming already! Stop your caterwauling!” It took her three tries to open the door, her hands were shaking so much. When she finally did manage it, she found that Wyatt had the storm door open and was slumped against it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled, keeping in character.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. What do you want?” Seeing the tortured pain in his eyes that had to match her own, Maria had to bite her hand to keep from crying. “I told you to stay away from me.”

“You don’t mean that. Look, what I said about your mother—”

“Don’t bring my mother into this. You need to go sober up.”

Wyatt looked straight at her, his voice quiet and tortured. “But I love you, Maria.”

“I love you, too. But I can’t do this right now. Go home.”

Without warning, Wyatt grabbed her hand and yanked her outside, shoving her in front of him as they ran down the walk. Gunfire erupted behind them. As they rounded the corner of the garage where Ethan was waiting, she felt Wyatt jerk, and he grunted. He stumbled into her and fell to his knees, and with terrifying clarity, she realized what the jerk had meant.

Cold with panic, she knelt down beside him and started tearing off his shirt, looking for blood. Wyatt was coughing and gasping for breath.

Ethan knelt beside them, his own face pale. “We’re clear inside. Where are you hit?”

“Shoulder,” Wyatt managed, pointing to his right side. With Ethan’s help, she got him out of his shirt and T-shirt. “I can’t feel my right arm.”

Reaching around, Ethan undid the vest, easing it away from Wyatt’s skin. He drew in a sharp breath. “The vest stopped the bullet, but you’ve already got a massive bruise forming. Any chest pain?”

Wyatt shook his head as he pulled Maria into his side with his left arm. “No. It just knocked the wind out of me.”

Maria clung to him, not bothering to try to hide her tears. “What about Whitaker?” she asked.

“He’s dead,” Stacy answered as she came around the corner. “Jason shot him.”

Ethan and Wyatt exchanged a look. “Go,” Wyatt said as Jason hurried across the yard, stopping at the curb to lean against a car and empty his stomach into the gutter. Ethan hurried to his side.

“This would happen now, right before his wedding,” Wyatt said, cursing. “Stacy, call the ambulance in, no siren, and ask them to send the coroner, too.”

“Can you stand?” Maria asked. He nodded, and she helped him get to his feet. As the ambulance pulled up, he groaned. “Guess it’s my turn to go to the hospital, huh?”

Maria nodded. “Yes. And no arguing.”

Once Wyatt was settled in the ambulance, one of the EMTs helped him take off the vest. Very carefully, he put the injured arm in a sling to take pressure off the shoulder. Wyatt sucked in a breath when the EMT put ice on his shoulder, but his concern was for Maria.

“Are you okay? Whitaker didn’t hurt you, did he?” Wyatt asked her.

“No. I’m fine, just scared to death. When you went down… you stupid, brave man.” Hiding her face against his uninjured shoulder, she burst into tears again.

Wyatt looked at the EMT. “Give us a minute?” The other man withdrew, and Wyatt let her cry for a few minutes, whispering comforting words into her hair until she’d calmed down.

When she had gotten it out of her system, she reached for a box of tissues. “The first time I see you shirtless, it’s because you were shot. Are we ever going to get this right?” she asked him with a watery chuckle as she blew her nose.

Not laughing, he cupped her face. His gaze was solemn. “I meant it, you know. I do love you.”

“I know. I meant it, too.” Reaching up, she kissed him. When he groaned, she pulled back, concerned. “You’re hurting.”

“Some. Actually, I’m pretty sure my shoulder’s either broken or dislocated, if not both.”

“Then we had better let these guys get you to the hospital.”

“Probably. Will you stay with Stacy while I’m gone?”

“No. I’m going with you.” She was surprised to see his eyes grow damp.

“Maria, are you sure?”

Grabbing another tissue, she blotted his eyes. “I’m sure. You’re the patient, not me. I’ll be fine as long as they don’t come at me with needles.” Moving aside as the EMT got back in the vehicle, she kept Wyatt’s left hand in hers. She wasn’t about to let go now.

Chapter Forty Nine

Things moved quickly at the hospital. Wyatt was whisked away to Radiology, while Stacy, who’d followed the ambulance, sat with Maria in the waiting room.

“I thought he was gone, Stacy. I felt that bullet hit him. How am I supposed to handle that kind of stress? Is this what Hannah and Beth go through every day?”

Stacy’s face reflected her sadness. “Why do you think the divorce rate is so high in law enforcement? It can be harder on the spouse in some ways than it is on the officer.”

Maria studied her friend. “That’s one of the reasons you and Andre didn’t work out, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “He tried to keep me in a safe little package. Andre will make some woman a doting, devoted husband someday. I just wasn’t able to be that woman. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m only five-two. And it was only a few dates, not like we had some undying love for each other. We barely even kissed.”

Maria put her arm around Stacy’s stiff shoulders and hugged her gently. “Well, I happen to think it’s a good thing Andre didn’t work out. You know my opinion as to why, and he just walked in the door.” She nodded at Gordon, who was walking toward them, his face drawn with concern as he sat down beside Stacy.

“Hey. I heard what happened. Is everybody okay?” he asked quietly.

“Somewhat. Wyatt’s being evaluated, and the extortionist is dead.” Stacy stood. “I need to excuse myself.” Without another word, she headed for the restrooms at the far end of the room.

“Was it something I said?” he asked as he scooted into the seat Stacy had vacated.

“No. She was in the condo when Whitaker was killed. I think it’s starting to weigh on her some.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Whitaker? He was the extortionist?” When Maria nodded, he whistled low. “What about you? Are you okay?”

With a tense smile, she responded, “I’m working on it.”

The door from inside the department opened, and a nurse walked over to them. “Ms. Pace? If you’d like to come back now, the sheriff is asking for you.”

Maria instantly stood, Gordon following suit. “How is he?” she asked.

“Mildly dislocated shoulder, but that’s all.”

A tremendous wave of relief hit her, and it was all she could do to stand for a few seconds. “Thank God!”

Gordon steadied her. “I’ll stay here, tell Stacy that he’s okay. Just holler if you need us.”

“He’s in a fair amount of pain from where the doctor put the shoulder back in place. He wouldn’t let us give him anything,” the nurse warned as they approached the large trauma room.

When they went in, Maria was shocked to see Wyatt hooked up to an EKG machine. She hurried to his side. “Wyatt?”

He managed a tense smile. “I’m fine. It’s just a precaution.”

The doctor agreed as the machine spat out the results. “This looks great, actually.” He placed an ice pack on Wyatt’s injured shoulder and let the nurse move in to take off the electronic leads. “I’d like to keep you here just a little longer, and then you can go.” With a nod to Maria, he left, the nurse following immediately afterward.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be the best company right now. I can’t take anything for the pain until after the state police take my statement.”

She touched his uninjured shoulder. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Just letting you know. I’m a horrible patient.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bending over, she kissed him thoroughly, her hand cupping his face. As she pulled back, he turned his face into her palm with a sigh. For the first time, Maria felt as though she was seeing the vulnerable man he kept carefully hidden. The glimpse only lasted a moment, though. He laid his head back on the pillow, eyes closed.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“ISP will handle the investigation into the shooting, as well as the extortion case. Jason will be placed on administrative leave, and you and I probably will be, too.”

“Will you have to appoint someone as acting sheriff?”

“Possibly. And I’ll probably choose Ethan, if it comes to that.”

After a knock on the door, a tall uniformed man poked his head inside. “Sheriff, am I interrupting?”

Wyatt sat up. “No, come on in.” He introduced Maria. “Russell DeHart, with the State Police. He helped work the Chad Ormsby case.”

She smiled and shook his hand. “I remember.”

“Glad you’re okay, Sheriff. You feel like giving a statement?”

“Yes. I can’t have anything for the pain until I do.”

The trooper nodded. “Ms. Pace, I hate to ask, but do you mind waiting outside? Since you were involved, I’ll need to question you separately.”

“Not at all.” Squeezing Wyatt’s hand, she slipped out and went back to the waiting room, which was starting to fill up with law enforcement personnel. Quickly, she ducked into the women’s restroom so she could cry.

Chapter Fifty

Three weeks later…

The last couple of weeks had seemed interminable for Maria. As Wyatt had predicted, she and Jason had been placed on leave. Surprisingly, though, he had not been. However, he had been hosting a contingent of investigators from the state. Because of that, he’d been sequestered in meetings almost non-stop, running late into the evening most nights. She’d only seen him in brief glimpses since the day Whitaker had been shot. Wyatt had invited her to his house, but she’d declined.