Shifting Shadows (22 page)

Analise
’s blood froze as the implications of his words hit her. “You...”

“
Pushed you down the stairs? Yes. And turned on the gas. I knew your amnesia, if it ever existed, wouldn’t last forever. But it would have been so much easier for both of us if you’d come home with me. You could have taken too many sleeping pills or something else painless. Now...” He shrugged, lifting one shoulder of his gray suit jacket. “For all our years together, I’ll do the best I can.”

Analise
’s mind reeled as her world shifted around her.

Phillip had tried to kill her. Phil
lip was going to kill her. Not—

“
Dylan?” she asked. “Is he working for you?”

“
Dylan? Your lover?” He jerked her arm painfully at that, and his eyes turned even colder, something she hadn’t thought possible. “I was downstairs last night when you were up here with him. I’ve suspected something was going on for some time, but you kept insisting you were just friends. What I heard last night proves you lied.” He jerked her arm again. “How long? Was he the real reason you left me?”

She tried to pull free of him, but his grip was like steel.
“I left you because you’re cold and uncaring. I needed more than money, but you didn’t have more to give. Your recent actions proved that.”

Suddenly she had to get away from him. Even more than fearing for her life, she didn
’t want him to touch her, not ever again. She kicked at his shin, felt her foot connect, heard him curse. She got her balance, drew back to kick again, but the small pistol that appeared in his hand stopped her.

“
I said I’d try to make this as easy on you as possible, but if you force me, it can be nasty. I really don’t owe you anything after your activities with Dylan last night.” He yanked her toward him. “Come on. Into the bathroom.”

Now that she was face-to-face with imminent, real d
anger, Analise found herself remarkably calm and lucid. She allowed him to lead her down the hall. “Why the bathroom? I don’t have any sleeping pills in there.”

“
I know, but thanks to your penchant for antiques, you have a mint-condition, very sharp, straight-edged razor. I noticed it the night I tried to run your bath.” He shoved her into the small room. “Fill the tub with water. You’re going to slash your wrists. It won’t hurt at all. You’ll just drift away, out of my life and my business.”

She backed against the t
ub, watching Phillip take the razor down from the collection of bric-a-brac mounted on the bathroom wall. “Slash my wrists? Commit suicide?”

He extended the blade fully from its decorative half-open position.
“You’re suffering from a traumatic concussion. We have the doctor’s records for that. My secretary will testify that you were distraught when you called and that she heard me begging you not to harm yourself. I came over here to take you home, protect you from yourself, but you went upstairs to the bathroom and never came back.” He waved the gun at her. “Fill the tub with water, Analise. Please don’t be difficult. Don’t make me have to shoot you. That would be messy and painful.”

Analise
turned her back to him and twisted on the faucets. Her heart and mind were both racing. How could she get out of this? Why wasn’t Dylan here? But she’d locked him out.

She had to stall for time, figure out something.
“I don’t have a stopper. I always take showers.”

“
Use a rolled washcloth.”

Taking a cloth from the wicker shelf, she complied, moving as slowly as possible. But finally it was in the drain, and the water started to fill the tub.

The water. Always the water. The water surrounding her, pulling her down as she looked up at Shawn on the deck of the boat, called to him for help. He shouted her name, prepared to dive in after her. She couldn’t swim, but she’d heard him brag that he’d swum across the Missouri River. He’d save her.

He was climbing over the rail. But the dark figure beside him grabbed him with one large hand, lifted a club with the other and smashed it against his head, then tipped him into the ebony waters to join her in death.

Blake stood alone on deck, his silhouette the last thing she saw before the darkness settled around her.

“Blake?” Phillip asked. She realized she’d turned toward him, spoken the name aloud. “Who the devil is Blake?”

She shook her head, twisting back around to stare at the hated water rising in the tub. A blinding fury possessed her. Damn it, he wasn
’t going to do it to her again! It wasn’t the water that had killed her. It was him. The water was neutral, an instrument, nothing to fear. It belonged to her as much as to him.

“
I think that’s full enough,” he said. “Stand up and take off your clothes.”

She plunged a hand into the water.
“It’s too cold. Please, I need a little more warm.”

She turned the cold tap all the way off, watching the steam rise from the hot water as it poured into the tub. With one hand she grabbed the flexible shower hose and with the other twisted the diverter, sending the entire flow through the hose.

She whirled and sprayed the scalding water into Phillip’s face.

He stumbled backward, dropping the razor as he
lifted his hands to protect his eyes. But he didn’t drop the gun.

Analise
rose to a crouch from her kneeling position, trying to keep the spray on him as she groped blindly for the razor. He stumbled, slipping in the water, and fell to the floor.

Her chance! If she could only get out of there before he
regained his feet, she might be able to escape. Gasping for breath, she pushed herself upright, dropped the hose, which was losing its effect as the water became merely warm, and tried to run past him. The room was small, the door only two strides away. But he grabbed her ankle, and she plummeted painfully to the wet tile floor.

“
Ungrateful bitch,” he snarled, struggling to his feet.

“
Murderer!” She wanted to turn on him, scratch him, hurt him, punish him for all he’d done to her, to Shawn, to the insurance investigator. But she couldn’t allow her rage to overwhelm her, to steal her control. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want Phillip to have the satisfaction of killing her again. She didn’t want to lose the second chance she’d been given with Dylan. If she had any possibility of getting away, she had to force herself to remain calm long enough to find it, to take it.

The gun, small and black and deadly, suddenly appeared in her face. He grasped her shoulder, pulling her to a sitting position. She felt the cold steel touch her temple.

In a desperate move, knowing it might be her last, she kicked upward into his groin and shoved as hard as she could.

He fell backward with a loud grunt, and the gun e
xploded. A painful sting touched her cheek, but she was still alive, still moving. She rolled away from him, staggered to her feet and lunged through the open door, her wet shoes slipping precariously as she ran down the polished hardwood hallway.

“
Analise!”

Did he really think she
’d stop just because he called to her?

She hit the stairs, taking two at a time, clutching the rail for balance as she charged downward. But just as she reached halfway, she felt familiar hands on her shoulders, pushing, and this time one of those hands pressed the cold metal of a gun against her. She stumbled, hanging onto the bannister desperately, refusing to let him do it to her again.

A thud sounded at the front door, and it came crashing open. “Let her go!”

Dylan! Her heart surged.

This time would be different.

This time they
’d make it.

Phillip
’s grip changed, but he didn’t let go. One arm wrapped around her shoulder, pressing the barrel of the gun against her neck. His other hand caught her elbow. She clutched the rail more tightly, prepared to hang on for dear life, but this time he steadied her, helped her regain her balance.

“
I’m certainly glad you’re here. I could use some help with her,” he said.

She looked down to see Dylan at the foot of the stairs, his big, silver gun pointed in Phillip
’s direction. He moved slowly upward, glowering from beneath storm-cloud brows, his eyes dark, raging maelstroms. “Give me the gun, Ryker.”

“
I had to take it away from her,” Phillip said, his voice oily. “She was trying to kill herself. If you’ll put down your gun and help me restrain her, I’ll get her in my car and take her to the hospital.”

Analise
tried to jerk away from Phillip’s grasp, but he tightened his hold. “Take your filthy hands off me,” she gasped, struggling against him.

“
Calm down, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be all right.” His tone was soothing, condescending.

Dylan was only two steps below them now. The hurr
icane barely contained in his eyes seemed to gain in fury. “It won’t wash, Ryker. I know all about your activities. My name isn’t Forrest, it’s Hunter. Tom Hunter was my brother. I’ve been trying to find the proof of what he told me about you ever since his death. Now, turn Analise loose and hand me the gun, real slow, with two fingers, just like in the movies.”

Analise
was so shocked by Dylan’s revelation that she almost missed the fact that Phillip must be equally distracted. Taking advantage of the situation, she kicked backward and felt her foot connect with his knee, heard him curse. His grasp loosened as he stumbled, and she twisted away, shoving him, sending him tumbling against Dylan. Both men toppled downward.

Analise
scrambled to her feet, reaching for Phillip’s gun which had fallen on the stairs.

The two men landed at the bottom, Phillip scrambling to his feet, Dylan sprawled on his back.
For an instant, panic washed over her. Had Phillip killed Dylan again? But Dylan was moving, trying to get up.

Analise
grasped the gun and aimed, her finger tightening on the trigger. She could and would shoot this man who threatened her life and Dylan’s, who had already destroyed their happiness in another lifetime.

Dylan unwittingly saved Phillip
’s life when he rolled over and grabbed both the man’s legs, dragging him to the floor.

She watched helplessly as the two men fought, but it soon became apparent that Phillip
’s sleek body which looked so good in business suits was no match for Dylan’s muscles.

Af
ter scuffling briefly, Dylan rolled Phillip onto his back and planted a knee in his chest, smashed a fist into his jaw and drew back to do it again.

Analise
was torn between wanting Dylan to punish Phillip and fearing that he would kill him then go to jail himself.

The scream of a siren pulled Dylan up short, and he sta
ggered to his feet, jerking a semiconscious Phillip with him. Analise hurried down the stairs to stand beside him, to touch him and know they were both still alive.

Through the open door she could see uniformed officers piling out of two squad cars parked in the street.

“I called them when I heard the shot,” Dylan said. “I may not have proof of what he did to my brother, but surely we can get him for your attempted murder.” He let out a long sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath for months.

“
I’ve got proof of everything,” she said quietly. “That’s why he tried to kill me. He’ll pay for Tom’s murder too.”

She looked up to see a sad smile spread over Dylan
’s face.

Some of the darkness had left his eyes.

*~*~*

Analise
walked across her porch and opened her front door, examining the splintered wood in the pale light from the moon. “This is getting to be a habit,” she teased, smiling up at Dylan as they entered the house. “Breaking down my door, I mean.”

“
You could give me a key.” He smiled his first smile of the evening.

She arched an eyebrow.
“Or you could use your credit card like you did the other night.”

He drew her into his arms and grinned sheepishly.
“Ouch. Can we discuss this over a cup of coffee, preferably one with a liberal shot of brandy in it? This has been a long, grueling day.” He touched the bandage on the side of her face where Phillip’s bullet had grazed her temple. “For both of us.”

“
Caffeine and alcohol sound pretty good to me,” she admitted, reluctantly leaving his embrace to lead him to the kitchen. “While the coffee’s brewing, you can explain about this coincidence of your being next door to the former wife of your brother’s murderer. And if I like your explanation, you can stay to drink the coffee.”

She took the pot to the sink and turned on the water.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it even more than it already was, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “That’s a tough one. I’m not sure you’re going to like the answer.”

She turned off the faucet and looked at him in surprise.

Since she knew Shawn had been innocent in his actions toward Elizabeth, she had assumed Dylan would be the same.

“
Go ahead,” she said, suddenly as serious as he.

“
Tom and I were very close,” he began, speaking quietly. “He was only a year younger. He told me everything, including his suspicions about the warehouse fires. He was a good investigator. He was getting close to Phillip, close to finding proof. Then he ended up dead. The police said it was an accident. They couldn’t find any evidence to the contrary. But I knew better.”

He paused and looked at her, and his eyes were dark pools of infinite pain. She sat at the table beside him and took his hand.

“Dad had a bad heart. The news of Tom’s death and the way the police handled it killed him. As you can imagine, Mom isn’t taking this too well. She’s pretty close to a nervous breakdown. I had to do something.”

“
So you moved next door to me.”

He nodded.
“That vacant house seemed like an omen. I assumed because you’d been married to him that you were guilty by association, that, at the very least, you knew everything and were keeping quiet about it. I thought you would be easier to get information from than he would be.”

Analise
’s heart clenched at his distrust of her. She stood and moved away, went to check the coffeemaker. “You thought I would be a party to murder?”

“
My head told me you must be, that you had to know. But as soon as I met you, I couldn’t believe you were guilty. At least, I didn’t want to believe it.”

His voice entreated her
, but she kept her attention focused on the rising level in the coffeepot. Though she understood what he must have felt, his doubts about her hurt. “I had no idea until Sunday,” she said. “I found some documents of his mixed in with mine. I still had to go to his office to find enough proof to take to the authorities.”

“
That’s when I began to get really suspicious,” Dylan confessed. “I followed you there because you’d been acting guilty and evasive Sunday afternoon. I watched you get into his office with your own key, then the next day you woke up claiming amnesia. I thought at first that Phillip had beaten you to keep you quiet.”

“
Close enough.” Analise took down two cups and poured in coffee then generous slugs of brandy and returned to the table. “He tried to kill me to keep me quiet. Even knowing he was a murderer, I just couldn’t imagine that he’d hurt me.” She took a sip of her beverage. It was strong and comforting.

When she looked at Dylan again, he was gazing at her, and she wondered why she
’d ever thought his eyes were dark. They held the light from all the stars of the night sky.

“
I was so scared when I heard you scream that morning,” he said. “Something woke me up about an hour before that. The approaching storm, I guess.”

Or that crazy mental link I have with you
, she thought.

“
I knew something was wrong,” he continued. “I panicked when I came through that door and saw you huddled on the floor. I guess I was already half in love with you. If I believed in such things, I’d say it was love at first sight.”

“
Or second lifetime.”

He grinned, arching an eyebrow qui
zzically. “Back to the reincarnation stuff?”

“
I can see you’re still not convinced. Dylan,” she said, “Phillip killed me. In this lifetime. After he pushed me down the stairs, he held a pillow over my face and I died. I had a near-death experience.” She heard his sharp intake of breath as he reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. “It was just like you read about, the bright tunnel of light, the overwhelming peace. But with it came knowledge. That’s when I got back Elizabeth’s memories. And I became angry. It wasn’t fair that he should do it to me—to us—in two lifetimes. So I came back.”

Dylan was silent for a long moment.
“You’re saying you died?”

“
Yes.”

“
And came back another person?”

“
No. I just came back a little confused, with the wrong set of memories. Or maybe it was the right set, what I needed to work things out.”