Shadow of Eden (29 page)

Elise pulled back and studied him intently. “What I don’t understand are your unscheduled rides outside the White House—another one today—Jeff phoned me. Don’t you know how much I worry about you?”

Dixon stared back at her, crestfallen, embarrassed like a scolded child. “It’s just that I feel . . .” He hesitated, searching. “So . . . compressed inside. I need to be outside. I need the fresh air.”

Elise’s tone was firm. “Then go outside in the yard or schedule a trip with the Service. Five minutes is all it would take.” She hugged him again and spoke with her head lying against his chest. “Please. For me?”

She felt her husband’s arms slide around her. “Okay, Sweetie. I can try.”

“Promise?” She pulled back to search his face. “It can only do us harm.”

Dixon hesitated. “Okay, I promise. For you.”

Chapter 62

H
is temple stitched and dressed, and fresh from an interview with Scottsdale Police Detective Harmon, Steve walked into the emergency department waiting room. Rounding the corner, he saw a sight he thought he would never see again—Anne and Johnnie waiting for him.

Anne jumped up to embrace him, squeezing him tightly for a long time. Finally, relinquishing her hug, she looked him over. “My God, Steve.” Anne inspected his red-raw neck and his head gash, now covered with gauze. “I can’t believe this. And Johnnie. If you two would have . . .” She hugged Steve again laying her head against his chest. He knew she was listening to his heartbeat as her arms squeezed him close.

“I was very brave, wasn’t I, Daddy?” Johnnie tugged at his father’s belt.

“Of course you were, Little John.” Steve scooped him up and held him closely feeling the innocent warmth of his son’s skin. Johnnie finally squirmed and Steve put him down. He couldn’t resist ruffling his son’s coarse dark hair. “I’m so proud of you.” Johnnie beamed and then put his arm around his dad’s waist possessively.

“Steve, what’s happening? What are you not telling me? Whatever’s going on has put your life and Johnnie’s in danger.”

“Anne—” He thought of the words shouted at him while he was crawling on the ground.
Goddamn you, James. I’ll kill you!
“I . . . don’t know.” He shook his head. He looked at Anne helplessly. He didn’t know why this had happened. The detective thought it was a disgruntled patient. Steve was not so sure.

Anne started crying, clutching Steve’s arm. “I don’t understand. I almost lost you two. Who’s doing this to us?” People were watching them now.

Steve tugged Anne towards him. She initially resisted, but then let go, collapsing into his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around her.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Steve tilted her head up and kissed her wet eyes.

Goddamn you, James. I’ll kill you!

“You need to get out of town,” Steve decided.

“What?” Anne looked puzzled.

“It’s too dangerous here. Take Johnnie; go to your parents’ house far away from this. That way I know you’ll be safe.”

Anne looked surprised, but shook her head. “No. I’m not going. I’m not going to be run out of my house by this—this thing or anybody. Besides, you need someone to take care of you. You can’t do this by yourself. You said just today that we were in this together.”

“Not fair. That was before I got shot at. Think of Johnnie.”

“
That’s
not fair—”

“Did you forget I was a bachelor before you moved in? I can take care of myself.”

“Right. Boxed macaroni and cheese, polyester ties, utilities cut off because you didn’t pay the bills. Steve, honestly. You’re a mess without me.”

“A terrible mess,” Steve smiled. “But there’s no way you can stay. And I can’t go. You and Johnnie have to leave. Tonight.”

Anne got that stubborn look he knew all too well. “No, Steve. I won’t.”

Steve pointed to his scalp wound and blood-matted hair. “Anne, look, I didn’t know if I’d ever see Johnnie again when I sent him off. I don’t want to have to worry about losing you or Johnnie. You have to. For his sake.”

Anne forced a smile. “I’m not splitting up our family for anything. Whatever we face, we do it together. Besides, you’re no James Bond.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Johnnie piped up. “Daddy’s gonna kick butt.”

“Johnnie!” Anne frowned at him.

“It’s on TV, Mommy,” Johnnie said in his logical voice.

Steve ruffled Johnnie’s hair again. “Thanks for the plug, Son.” Then he leaned over and whispered to Anne, “The detective said there was a good chance whoever it was would try again.”

Anne’s eyes told Steve her mind was made up. “Well, he’s finished for tonight. I’m sleeping in my own bed. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

The TV news in the waiting room caught their attention.

“. . . The terrible freeway crash we showed you earlier this evening . . .” The screen showed a helicopter view of the freeway pile up. “. . . was allegedly caused by Dr. Steven James. Dr. James, the hero doctor that saved the falling 747 was today rocked by scandal with multiple malpractice allegations and a sexual abuse suit. This evening, our sources tell us, he attempted suicide that resulted in the multiple vehicle pile-up, with serious injuries to eight persons. And, we understand, Dr. James had his seven year-old son in the car with him at the time. Scottsdale Police are holding him for questioning.”

Steve stared in disbelief at the TV. “That’s bullshit, you bastards!”

Everybody in the waiting room stared at him. A huge tattooed man spat at him. “Fucking hero—look at you now, scumbag. Your son, for Chrissakes.”

Steve shook again, this time with frustrated anger. Anne touched his chest.

“Okay, Stevie.” Anne was just as angry with new tears rolling down her face. Her eyes searched his face. “This is getting nasty. But we’ll fight it together.” Her voice broke. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter 63

K
erry whined.

Steve, lying awake in bed, sat up. “What is it, boy?” he whispered.

Kerry scratched at the sliding glass door to the back yard.

“Okay, I’m sorry, boy. I’ll let you out.” He had forgotten to take Kerry for his nightly walk. His poor bladder must be bursting! Glancing at the bedside clock, he saw it was two minutes after two. Kerry looked back at him and scratched at the door again.

Trying not to wake Anne, he quietly sat up in bed, which made his head and neck renew their aching. He pulled on his jeans and painfully stood up.

“I know, I know.” Kerry whined again, eagerly, like he did when he had a rabbit in sight. Steve slid open the arcadia door, feeling the cool night air against his bare chest. Kerry bolted out, barking loudly, and ran around the corner to the side of the house. Seconds later, Steve heard a male voice curse.

What?
In alarm, Steve leaned out to see, but the origin of the voice was out of his sight, near the side utility room. He heard a sudden but subdued pop followed by yelping from Kerry. Steve recoiled—he had heard that same sound just hours before. He fought the impulse to run out after Kerry, but instead, he slid the door shut and locked it.

“Anne,” he shouted. “Get up! Someone’s just shot Kerry!”

Anne rolled over onto her back, her voice thick with sleep. “What? Shot Kerry?”

Steve threw her bathrobe at her. “Come on. Get up.” Reaching under the bed, he grabbed his heavy aluminum flashlight and then ran into the closet for his gun.

“What happened? Where’s Kerry?” Anne, tying the cloth bathrobe belt came up to his side.

“Shit, my gun. It’s gone!” Steve pawed at the back of his sock drawer. “We’ve got to get Johnnie.” He unplugged his cell phone and handed it to Anne. “Call 911.”

Crouching down, he led Anne to their bedroom door. To his left was the large entryway with its wide glass sidelights. He paused half expecting to see the shadow of a man at the front door. How many were out there? He grasped Anne’s hand and they dashed past, sprinting into Johnnie’s room.

Anne spoke into the phone quietly. “We’ve got an armed man outside our house who just shot our dog. We need someone here now, please.”

Steve knelt over Johnnie, sprawled out on his stomach in his pajamas. “Johnnie, wake up. Come on, boy.” He scooped up the moaning half-asleep boy and carried him into the adjacent bathroom. Anne followed, whispering information to the operator in a grim replay of Steve’s conversation with the emergency center earlier that evening.

The bathroom had no windows and only one entrance. Steve hoped the men would not do a room-to-room search, but he knew that was exactly what they were here to do. Someone wanted him dead and they didn’t care if they took his family with him.

Steve laid Johnnie in the bathtub and pushed Anne on top of the sleeping boy, while he crouched by the door listening, holding the heavy four-battery flashlight in his hand.
What else can I do?

For the second time that night he was trapped. He had no other place to take his family. The entire back of his house had huge picture windows looking out onto the backyard and the mountains beyond. He could easily be seen moving around the house. Conversely, he could not risk trying to make a dash outside for fear of running into the hands of the man or men outside. And he couldn’t find his fucking gun!

Anne had finished talking, but was still holding the phone to her ear.

“What?” Steve whispered.

“They’re sending someone now. It’ll be five minutes—”

“We don’t have five minutes.” He had to find a way out. But how? How? “Give me the phone.”

She objected as he took it from her. “Don’t hang up.”

He did and then punched in his next-door neighbor’s number.

“I’m sorry, that number’s been disconnected or is no—”

“Shit. What’s Rich’s number?”

“I don’t know. I never—”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Johnnie mumbled, beginning to wake up.

“Shhh.” Anne said.

The crash of shattering glass broke the superficial calm. It came from the kitchen. Anne leaned over Johnnie and whispered to him to be quiet.

Steve fumbled at the phone buttons again trying to make sure he dialed Rich’s number correctly. The phone rang as Steve strained his ears for sounds of approaching footsteps.

“Hello?” A sleepy voice answered.

“Rich!” Steve whispered into the phone through cupped hands. “We’ve got an armed man in our house. Make some noise or something to distract them. Hurry.”

“Got it. On my way.” Steve heard a click as Rich hung up. The sound of approaching footsteps made Steve crouch even lower. Carefully putting the phone down, he grasped the heavy metal flashlight as his only weapon.

“I know you are hiding in here, Dr. James.”
It was that voice!
“I have a score to settle with you.” Steve’s body chilled at the sound of it.

The footsteps came closer. He saw the reflection of a flashlight sweeping around outside the bathroom.

Then Steve heard loud gunshots and shouts outside. Rich! An avid hunter, he must have fired a rifle or shotgun to cause a commotion. Steve heard more gunshots.

The footsteps outside the door retreated. “Pleasant dreams, Dr. James,” the voice called out. Steve heard more shouts outside and the roar of a vehicle leaving very quickly. With profound relief Steve slumped to the floor. What did he mean about pleasant dreams?

“Anne, I think it’s over.” Steve said with heartfelt relief. “Rich saved us.” Steve then identified an unfamiliar odor, something vaguely unpleasant, like garlic.

“Thank God for him,” Anne said. “That was—”

Steve suddenly identified the smell.
Gas!
It was everywhere, filling the house. “Anne, get out of here. Now!” Steve bent over to grab Anne when a tremendous force slammed him against the tiled bathroom wall. He fell unconscious on top of Anne and Johnnie.