Microsoft Word - DeadHeat_wrp356.doc (31 page)

to lift her head.

“Don't move, Jenna. You're being transported to a

hospital.”

The medic reached in a medical bag and withdrew a

hypodermic needle.

Rye stepped forward. “What are you doing?”

The medic glanced up. “It's a tranquilizer. It's

important she doesn't struggle during the lift to the

'copter.”

Rye panicked as the needle moved closer to her arm.

“It's possible she's been injected with Ketamine.”

The medic whistled and put the needle away. “Okay.

We'll make do without.” He turned to his buddy. “Radio

up for more restraints.”

Rye's heart missed several beats as the two men

prepared to lift Jenna onto the stretcher. When they

turned her over, Rye received a sucker punch to the

stomach. From forehead to jaw, the left side of her

beautiful face was unrecognizable. It was so swollen and

black that he couldn't even find her left eye. The thought

of what she'd endured made him want to puke.

“The lady was lucky,” said one of the medics. The

bullet grazed her arm, leaving her with no more than a

flesh wound. A few inches to the left...” he trailed off,

shaking his head.

Rye stared at the medic, then switched his focus to

the two-inch gouge in Jenna's right arm just above the

elbow.

199

Pam Champagne

They wrapped her in blankets and secured her to the

stretcher. The medics radioed the order to raise the

stretcher. Rye bent and kissed her right cheek. “I'll be at

the hospital as soon as I can, Jenna.”

Did her fingers twitch when he spoke? Or was it

wishful thinking?

Rye kept an eye on the helicopter until it disappeared

over the trees, then walked toward Brett and Detective

Hills, who were still standing by Casey's body.

“How is she?” Brett asked. Rye appreciated the

sincere concern in his brother's eyes.

“Real beat up. Either Casey's a bad shot, or she

moved right before the bullet hit her. It tore through the

fleshy part of her right arm.”

Brett nodded. “She'll be fine, Rye.”

Rye extended his hand to Hills. “I can't thank you

enough for taking that sorry bastard out.”

“I'll probably lose my job for interfering with the

FBI.” He shook Rye's hand. “I don't like scum like that

messing around in my neck of the woods.”

“I'll be tied up here for a while,” Brett said. “Why

don't you grab a ride with Sergeant Hills? I know you're

anxious to get to the hospital.”

****

“Whoa, baby, just lie still.”

Rye's voice warmed the coldness deep in her bones.

She opened her good eye, and saw two of him sitting in a

chair next to her. She blinked a few times, and he came

into focus. His hair stood on end, his eyes bloodshot and

his face was dark with stubble. “You look like hell,” she

croaked.

He reached over and held her hand resting on the

outside of the blanket. “Not surprising, since I've been

there and back.”

“I hurt.”

“I know, baby, but you're going to be fine.”

“Was I shot?”

“You were lucky, Jenna.” He squeezed her hand. “The

bullet just grazed your arm.”

She nodded. “Thank you for being here.”

His thumb caressed her wrist. “Where else would I

200

Dead Heat

be?” Were those tears in his eyes?
I must be hallucinating.

The memories dribbled back. “What happened to

Casey?”

“He's dead. Hills shot him.”

“He was my half-brother, Rye. And he was insane.”

“I know. Brett figured it out when we were searching

for you.”

The tenderness in Rye's eyes disconcerted her. She

licked her dry lips. “I'd like a drink of water.”

Rye's hand rested on her neck, cradling her in place

while she sipped the cold water through a straw. “Thanks.

And thanks for being my friend.”

His mouth tightened. “Can I get you anything else?”

Jenna sensed the sudden awkwardness between

them and shifted position in the bed. “A mirror. I want to

know if I look as bad as I feel.”

Rye's brows drew together. “I don't think that's a

good idea.”

Her attempt to laugh failed. “I'm a real mess, huh?”

The words came out as a half sob. A moment of silence

passed and she asked, “Is there permanent damage to my

eye? Will I be blind?”

Rye reached over and ran his hand over her hair. “Of

course not. You've got an old-fashioned shiner. The

swelling will be gone in a few days.”

Jenna sighed in relief. Rye would never lie to her

about something as serious as this. “Where's Brett?”

“Sorting through evidence.”

Another memory surfaced. “Casey told me that

Laura's buried out back. You should tell Brett.”

“I will. Jenna, I...” he began and abruptly stopped.

She reached over and touched his arm. “I know you,

Rye. There's something you're not telling me. What is it?”

“Christ.” He threaded his fingers through his hair.

By the looks, he'd been doing a lot of that.

“I'm so sorry about everything that's happened to

you.” “It's not your fault,” she assured him.

“Maybe not entirely. I just wonder if I'd never

approached you about a job...”

She held up her hand. “Stop right there. Casey

201

Pam Champagne

wanted me dead. He made that quite clear. He'd have

found a way to get me whether I worked for you or not.”

Rye looked doubtful.

“Why don't you go home,” she suggested. Take a

shower and get some rest. If I look half as bad as you do,

then I understand why you won't give me a mirror.”

He hesitated and for a moment Jenna thought he'd

refuse to leave.

Then he pushed out of the chair, kissed her gently on

the forehead and abruptly left the room.

Something major was bothering Rye Cameron, and it

irked her that she didn't know what. Perhaps he knew

something about her condition and didn't want to tell her?

She worried a corner of the blanket with her thumb and

forefinger. The blood pressure cuff tightened, bringing to

mind the night Casey knocked her on the head.

The man who'd just left her room was not the same

man who'd agreed to look after her then. She wanted the

old Rye back. The man who was cocksure of himself,

always a sparkle in his eyes.

The door opened. She smiled, thinking Rye had come

back. She was disappointed.

“Sergeant Hills. What a surprise. Rye just left.”

“I know I saw him walk down the hall.”

“Did you need me to ask me some questions?”

“Just a few. I'm curious about that letter your mother

wrote to your father. Did she mention specific names?”

Jenna frowned, confused as to why this man would

be asking her about Laura's letter now. “Not that I recall.”

“So the FBI are on a blind chase. They're not looking

for specific people?”

“The FBI knows the mob's behind everything that's

happened. Casey mentioned a few names to me before I

escaped. I haven't had a chance to tell Brett yet.”

“You'd better do that.”

“I understand you saved my life.”

Hills pulled a chair close to the bed and sat. His

knees pushed into the mattress. “I guess I did. Believe

me, it was unintentional.”

Goosebumps rose on her arms and prickled the back

of her neck. “What do you mean?”

“I'd planned on Casey's bullet hitting its mark.”

202

Dead Heat

Jenna choked back her fear as his hand disappeared

into his pocket. He pulled out a large hypodermic needle,

the size used on the racetrack for horses. “What...what

are you doing?”

Jenna fumbled for the nurses' call button, hanging on

the side of the bed.

“I don't think so.” A huge beefy hand clasped her

wrist and squeezed until the pain became so intense she

dropped the cord.

Her eyes stayed glued to the huge needle. “You and

Casey worked together?”

“Naw. The kid didn't have a clue I worked for the

same people he did. Boss told me to give the kid enough

rope so he'd hang himself, then take him out. Casey's

erratic behavior provided me with a perfect opportunity.”

The light dawned. “You waited until Casey fired at

me, hoping he'd killed me before you shot him.”

“That's right. Who'd have known the kid was such a

bad shot. Anyway, it's fallen in my lap to clean up this

mess.” He leaned closer, still holding her wrist.

“The truth will come out,” Jenna heard the

desperation in her voice. “It always does.”

“I've covered my tracks.”

“They'll do an autopsy on my body.”

His brows rose, his expression calm. “So? Who's going

to connect me to your murder? No one saw me come in

here. No one will see me leave. They'll just figure the mob

got to you.”

Jenna tugged, but couldn't break his grip on her

wrist. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound

emerged. Her vocal cords seemed frozen. She twisted her

bruised body and kicked out at the man about to end her

life. Just as the needle touched her arm, the door burst

open and hit the wall with enough force to rattle a

window on the other side of the room. “Freeze.”

****

kill stance, his weapon leveled on the back of Hills' head.

The hefty man dropped Jenna's wrist, and she

scrambled to the far side of the small bed, frantically

rubbing the place on her arm where the needle had

203

Pam Champagne

rested. In horror, Rye watched Hills poke the needle into

his neck and inject the lethal drug.

A sad smile spread across his heavy jowls. “Dead

heat. Nobody wins.” He slumped in the chair. His heavy

body convulsed a few times, before it stopped moving.

Rye barreled past Brett to the bed and pulled Jenna

into his arms. The shudders running through her body

made him want to cry. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, but you are. You're squeezing me too tight.”

“Sorry.” He loosened his hold. “Brett intercepted me

while I was calling for a ride home. I couldn't believe it

when he told me his suspicions about Hills.”

The room swarmed with nurses, a doctor and

orderlies. They scurried around, putting Hills on a

stretcher. Orderlies wheeled him out.

Jenna pulled away from Rye. “What did he mean,

dead heat, nobody wins?”

Brett pulled the vacant chair away from the bed and

slid into it. “Who knows? I assume he meant we'd get no

information from him, and the mob didn't get what they

wanted.”

Rye stiffened. “So Jenna's life may still be in

danger?”

Brett rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I doubt it, but I

won't take any chances. Two agents will be with her at all

times for the next few months. My guess is the mob won't

draw more attention to their activities in this area of the

country. They'll move on.”

“I'll be leaving for California soon anyway. After I

work a two-week notice, that is,” she added, glancing at

Rye. Did she want him to let her leave right away, without

working a notice? He cleared his throat. “Ah, Jenna.

About that notice. The contract you signed states the

employee give a month's notice.”

Her heart-shaped mouth tightened, and her right eye

narrowed to a slit. Then suddenly, all tension left her

body, and she smiled at him. Smiled? What was going on?

“If that's what the contract says, then I'll honor it.

Serves me right for not reading the damn thing.”

Rye rode a high of elation. He had a month to win her

trust and make her love him again. A month to prove how

204

Dead Heat

much he loved her. Convince her that he couldn't live

without her.

A nurse bustled in the room. “All right you two,” she

said in a no nonsense voice. “Out for now. The doctor

wants to examine the patient, and she needs rest.”

“Brett? Did Rye tell you about Laura being buried out

back of the cabin?”

“Yeah. We couldn't find anything that remotely

resembled a grave. Either Casey was lying or he hid the

body well.”

“So what happens now?”

“We'll keep looking. I'll send some men up there with

dogs. Don't worry. If she's there, we'll find her.”

205

Pam Champagne

“Hold your horses,” Jenna muttered as the knocking

grew more persistent. She trucked to the door in bare feet,

peeked through the peep hole and smiled.

The worry creasing Rye's face vanished as soon as

she opened the door. “Jenna.” He released a sigh. “What

took you so long?”

She stood aside for him to enter. “Stop worrying

about me. There's an FBI agent out front, one out back

and God knows where else. There's probably one or two

hiding in the bedroom closet.”

Chuckling, Rye kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry.

Worrying about you has become a habit.”

“Well break it,” she snapped, walking back to living

room. “And don't start tapping pencils again,” she warned.