Return of the Warrior, page 14
Luke’s voice was calm and even. “I’m taking it back to its rightful owners.”
Carl snorted. “You expect me to believe that? You’re going to sell it to the highest bidder.”
“You might. I’m going to take it back where it belongs.”
It seemed that Carl wasn’t capable of listening, and his eyes had taken on a maddened look that told her he had tipped over the edge. “Hand it over before you get hurt.”
Still, she had absorbed Zabastian’s value in the time they’d been together. No way was she going to hand over the Moon Priests’ property to Carl Peterbalm.
Raising her chin, she answered, “No.”
“You’re making a mistake.” Carl’s voice rose an octave. “I’m in the right here. You’ve taken my property. Those men almost killed me because of that damn box, so I know it’s valuable. I’m through talking to you. Hand it over.”
“Carl, listen to me.” As she spoke, she took a step forward.
“Stay away from me before you get hurt.” When he swung the gun toward her, she froze.
Luke took advantage of the opening and leaped forward.
As he charged, Carl fired the gun. At point-blank range, it would have been hard to miss a man right in front of him.
Chapter Twelve
In the narrow alley, the shot seemed to echo and reecho, and Sidney heard Carl make a strangled sound, like he wasn’t expecting so much noise.
Sidney wasn’t sure what her boss had intended, but the weapon was aimed low, and it looked like the bullet struck Luke in the leg, not in the central part of his body. Thank God.
Carl stared in horror as he realized that he’d actually shot a man.
Luke looked equally shocked as the leg crumpled under him and he sat down heavily in the alley.
Aghast, Sidney cried out as Luke leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, his face pale. She wanted to run to Luke, but Carl was still holding the gun.
“Oh Lord,” she gasped. “Carl, are you crazy?”
He whipped around toward her, and she was sure she was going to get shot, too. “Shut up.”
She clamped her lips together as he looked up and down the street to see if anybody had seen the impromptu drama.
Nobody shouted or came running, and Sidney cursed the early hour and the deserted downtown.
Carl turned again, advancing on Luke, who grimaced as he scooted backward on his bottom. But even the warrior wasn’t going to get away from Carl with a bullet in his leg.
“Give me the box,” the round little man snarled.
Sidney’s heart raced as she tried to figure out what to do. As she looked wildly around, she saw a thick stick lying on the sidewalk. Snatching it up she moved in on Carl and poked the stick against his back.
“Drop the gun or I’ll shoot,” she said in a deadly calm voice.
He gasped and started to turn.
“Drop the gun,” she ordered, “or I’ll shoot you in the back, so help me God.”
The gun clattered to the sidewalk.
“Kick it to Luke,” she said, praying that Luke was in shape to grab it.
Carl kicked the gun across the pavement. It stopped a few feet from Luke, and he leaned over groaning as he picked it up and held it in a two-handed grip.
Now what, she thought. They’d disarmed Carl, but Luke was still wounded. He needed medical attention and they needed to figure out what to do with Carl.
She dropped the stick and walked toward Luke, making a big circle around the importer.
Kneeling down beside Luke, she looked at his pant leg. It was bloody but not sopping. Apparently the bullet hadn’t hit an artery.
She spared her boss a scathing look. “You bastard.”
He stood there, his lower lip trembling, probably realizing for the first time that he could have killed Luke.
While she was trying to figure out what to do, two SUV’s pulled up at the entrance to the alley and two men jumped out. She sighed in relief when she saw Hunter Kelley and Jed Prentiss.
“Thank God,” she breathed. “We’re in bad trouble.”
“What happened?” Hunter asked.
“My boss, Carl Peterbalm, shot Luke.”
Jed swore. “Do you want to call the cops?”
She swallowed. “I—”
Luke interrupted before she could finish. “It’s complicated. We can’t call the police.”
Hunter jerked his head toward Peterbalm. “What do we do with him?”
“If we leave him, there’s no guarantee that he won’t go to the cops and tell them we robbed him,” Luke answered. “And no proof that he shot me, because I’m not going to be here.”
“Then I guess we’d better take him with us,” Hunter decided.
“Who the hell are you?” Carl demanded.
“The cavalry.” Hunter took a step toward him.
Carl held up a hand as though he could push Hunter away. “Now wait a minute. Leave me alone!”
Hunter calmly slapped a cloth over Carl’s face, and he went slack.
“What did you do to him?” Sidney gasped.
“Put him out. The anesthetic has an amnesiac effect.”
“And now what?”
“We’ll hold him until we can figure it out,” Hunter answered.
“Is that legal?”
“No. But neither is shooting someone, or importing stolen goods,” Hunter replied.
“You know about that?”
“Yeah. We’ve been investigating him.” He turned toward Sidney. “And we made sure neither of you are involved with that.” As he finished speaking, he climbed into the vehicle and drove away.
Apparently the Light Street crew had been prepared for a lot of different eventualities.
“Lucky we came out clean,” Luke muttered.
“We had to be sure,” Jed said as he bent down to tend to Luke. “By the way, I’m Jed Prentiss. I work for Randolph Security.”
“Luke McMillan,” he whispered.
“This is a hell of a way to meet. Um, want to give me the gun?”
Luke laughed. “Good idea.” He let Jed lift the gun from his limp hand, click the safety and stuff it into his waistband.
“I’m going to cut your pant leg so I can see the wound,” Jed said.
“Okay.”
Jed looked at Sidney. “Keep watch.”
She moved to the front of the alley while Jed ran back to the car and pulled a first aid kit from the floor of the backseat. Then he hurried to Luke again.
Sidney wanted to be at Luke’s side, but she knew there wasn’t anything constructive she could do. Instead she moved to the end of the alley and kept one eye on the street and one eye on the two men as Jed pulled out a penknife, opened it and cut away the bloody fabric. Perspiration had bloomed on Luke’s forehead, and he groaned as Jed moved his leg.
“Sorry,” the Light Street man muttered as he uncovered the injured area, which was in Luke’s calf. Blood still oozed from a visible hole. “You need to see a doctor. I’m just an old battlefield medic.”
“Okay.”
Luke winced as Jed pressed gauze squares to the wound. “Sorry,” he muttered again.
“Do what you have to,” Luke answered.
Jed nodded and used a stretch bandage to hold the gauze in place. When he finished, he sat back on his heels. “Do you think you can you walk?”
“I hope so.”
“Give me the box,” Sidney said.
When he handed over the precious object without hesitation, her heart squeezed. He was showing his absolute trust in her.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she cradled the box against her middle.
He gave her a small nod. Then Jed helped him up, and his face went white. She moved to Luke’s other side, lending him more support him as he hobbled to the car.
When they reached the vehicle, she stood back while Jed eased Luke into the front seat, where he flopped down and sat with his head thrown back against the headrest.
“Where are you taking me?” Luke asked. “They’ll ask questions about a gunshot wound.”
“Don’t worry. We have our people.” Jed pulled away, his eyes meeting Sidney’s in the rearview.
“Where is Hunter taking Carl Peterbalm?”
“To a safe place,” Jed replied. Then he picked up a transmitter on the console and made a call. When someone at the other end of the line answered, he explained Luke’s condition.
They drove through the downtown area and then into the Latino neighborhood near Fells Point. Jed drove up to a three-story red brick structure that looked like it might have been a small, low-rise apartment building, only most of the windows were covered up. He turned in at a driveway that sloped down to wide garage door. It slid open, then closed behind him.
Overhead lights illuminated a garage area large enough to hold several dump trucks. As soon as the car stopped, a woman ran toward them, pushing a stretcher.
She and Jed helped Luke out of the car and onto the rolling bed, then toward an elevator directly in front of the car.
Sidney followed along as they traveled up two floors, then down a short corridor and into what looked like a hospital emergency room. They transferred Luke to an exam table, where a man in a white coat was waiting. While the nurse cut away the rest of Luke’s jeans, the man spoke to him.
“I’m Doctor Miguel Valero. And this is Nurse Rosa Sanchez, who works at my clinic. We’re going to take care of you.”
Sidney had heard of the doctor. She knew he was active in the Latin American community, and Sabrina had told her he also worked for the Light Street Foundation. But she had no idea that this place existed.
Luke looked around. “If this isn’t a hospital, what is it?”
“A facility maintained by the Light Street Foundation. We do community medicine here, but we also handle emergencies for the Light Street Detective Agency and their sister organization, Randolph Security.”
Sidney took in the room. The equipment must have cost millions of dollars. And it was a secret.
“You have a bullet in your leg,” Dr. Valero said to Luke. “I’m going to put you out while I remove it.”
“No!” Luke sat up and tried to climb off the table.
The doctor and nurse pressed him back. “We have to remove the bullet,” Dr. Valero said.
“I understand that,” Luke acknowledged in a gritty voice. “But you cannot make me unconscious. I must keep an eye on the box.”
Sidney hurried to his side and clasped his hand. “I’ll hold it for you. You can trust me to do that.”
He swung his head toward her. “I trust you, but I do not know these other people.”
She wanted to point out how well they’d already handled this emergency, but she knew that logic wasn’t going to work right now. Not when she was dealing with Zabastian’s concerns, not Luke’s.
She directed her next words to Dr. Valero. “He needs to stay awake. Can you give him something for the pain?”
“I can give him something, but if he’s awake, it’s going to hurt.”
“Do it,” Luke muttered.
The doctor looked resigned as he started an IV line in Luke’s arm.
“Sidney must stay here with the box,” Luke said.
“This isn’t the operating room,” the doctor said, his voice stern. “If she comes in there with us, she must put on a gown and mask.”
Nodding to Luke, Sidney followed the doctor into a scrub room.
“I guess working with the Light Street group, you get some unusual cases,” she said.
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Don’t you have to report a gunshot wound?”
“In this facility, we have often bent the rules.”
“Okay.”
Apparently Valero wasn’t going to say anymore, so she donned a gown and mask and waited for the doctor to scrub his hands and put on gloves. Then they both stepped into a small operating room.
Luke had his eyes fixed on the door. As soon as he saw her with the box, he seemed to relax.
She hurried to his side and reached for his hand, holding tight as the doctor walked to the other end of the table. A drape made it impossible for her to see what was happening, and she was grateful for that.
Seeing the pain on Luke’s face as Valero worked was enough.
Luke stayed absolutely silent, but the way he gripped her hand told her that the procedure hurt.
It seemed to take centuries, but finally she heard the doctor make a satisfied sound. Coming around to Luke’s other side, he held up the bullet in his gloved hand. “Here it is.”
“Thank you,” Sidney murmured, and Luke echoed the sentiment. His brow was covered with sweat, and his skin was gray, but the bullet was out.
“We have a special healing salve,” Valero said, “courtesy of one of the Randolph Security men, Thorn Devereaux. He’s been involved in various research projects for us.”
“Okay,” Luke said.
“You’re lucky we have it.”
He returned to the other end of the table and did something else that Sidney couldn’t see. Then he pulled a sheet in place over the lower half of Luke’s body.
They transferred him to a gurney again and wheeled him into the recovery room, and she stayed by his side, still clutching the box.
Finally, Luke was settled into a hospital bed. He lay still and pale against the pillow, with his eyes closed. When she sat down in the chair beside him, his eyes blinked open again and focused on her.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Not so bad. Thank you for staying with me.”
“I’ll do what you need me to do.”
When she pressed her palm over his, he turned the hand over and knit his fingers with hers. “Help me stay awake.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Help me.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me about your life.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I want to hear more about where you grew up,” he whispered. “You said in Catonsville?”
“Yes. In an old house with a big yard. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we had a lot of love. All the neighborhood kids were always at my house. Sometimes we’d have six or seven of them for lunch. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and canned soup.”
“What did you play?” he murmured, and she wondered how long he could stay awake.
“We’d make forts on the porch, with a couple of sheets over two card tables. And in hot weather, we had a lemonade stand. And a wading pool in the backyard. We’d move it to a place in the yard where the ground had sunk in a little, so we’d have a deep spot in the pool.”
“Um.”
“And we’d squirt each other with the hose.”
He made a barely audible sound. “What did you do in winter for fun?”
“My mom would bake cookies.”
She thought Luke was going to sleep, but he asked, “What kind?”
“Chocolate chip and molasses were my favorite.”
“You don’t like oatmeal raisin?”
“They’re good too.”
She wanted to ask questions about his childhood, but she knew he was in no shape to keep up his end of the conversation.
He murmured, “Christmas?”
“We’d go out in the country and cut down our own tree. And it was always so big we had to move the furniture around the living room. Then Dad would get the decorations from the attic. We made a lot of them ourselves.”
“It sounds like a good family time.”
“Yes.”
“And what do you want for the future?” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.
She went rigid. Was he asking about them, or the personal plans she’d made? And how much did she dare to say?
“I want to be like you,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I want my own business. I want to be my own boss. I’d do that if I could afford it.”
“What…kind of business?”
“Antiques. I know the field. That’s one of the reasons Carl Peterbalm hired me.”
“And he wants…to get into your pants,” Luke muttered. Apparently the medicine had undermined his ability to censor his speech.
She laughed. “Yes, but he didn’t even get close.” Without elaborating, she went back to her own plans. “But I’d need a shop and also inventory.”
She got caught up in talking about what she’d been dreaming of for years, until Luke made a sharp noise, and her gaze flew to him. Then she saw he was snoring.
“So much for fascinating you with my daydreams,” she said in a low voice, then looked up to see Dr. Valero in the doorway.
“He wanted to stay awake,” she whispered.
“He needs to sleep.” The doctor gave her a considering look. “And so do you.”
She looked from the doctor to Luke. “What did you give him?” she asked.
“A minimal dose of painkiller. To help him rest so his body can heal.”
He’d told her to rest too. But she said, “I promised to guard the box.”
“You can keep it with you. Nobody’s getting into the building to steal it.”
She sighed. “I understand. But Luke doesn’t know you.” Not to mention Zabastian, she thought.
“We’ll pull a bed up beside his. You can sleep there.”
“Thanks.”
Sidney gently untangled her hand from Luke’s. She intended to stay awake. But as soon as she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed the staff brought in, fatigue washed over her and the world faded. She awoke with a start, disoriented and frightened.
Her head swung to the side, and she saw that Luke had made a strangled sound as he woke suddenly.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” she said as she scrambled off her bed and leaned over him.
“The box?”
“Right here.” She picked it up from the bedside table and showed it to him. “I said you could trust these people.”
He sighed and settled back in the bed. His face was haggard and unshaven, but he looked like he was feeling better.
Moments later, the door opened, and Dr. Valero came in. “How long was I asleep?” Luke asked.
