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  Danger. It wasn’t coming from the woman he still held, at least not all of it. He watched her pale at the flash coming from the building across the one way street. Even as she shouted, the shot rang out. Instinct made him knock her to the ground, using his body as a shield.

  Jack grunted as the bullet struck him in the shoulder. Another shot sounded and struck the tree just above Liv’s head, splintering the wood and slicing her forehead.

  “Liv, stay down. Are you okay?” He shook her.

  She didn’t say anything, only stared at the trees and their unseen assailant. Why? Who? Visions of red hair and white silk scored his mind. He’d be damned if he’d let another woman die because he hadn’t been fast enough. “Unless you’re dead or unconscious, you’d better say something.” Fear and pain added the heat to his words.

  Her voice shook, but she said, “I think so. Why is someone shooting at us?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve got to get out of the open.” He didn’t need to look to know there was very little ground cover. Their only chance was to run for it.

  “How are we going to do that?”

  Jack had a plan, a bad one. He felt helpless, no gun, no badge, not even a cellphone to call 911 and report the shots fired. Of course the damned phone would be in the car. His shoulder burned like hellfire, but he was going to try really hard not to think about it. He didn’t have another choice. Her only chance at survival was his training. He had to stay calm. Running now on pure adrenaline and fear wasn’t making it easy. Even if he didn’t make it, she had to live; right now nothing else was as important to him as that.

  “I want you to listen real close, Liv. Do exactly what I say. If we can get through that stand of trees it cuts straight back to the curb. I want you to roll over and crawl real low, until I say. I’ll keep you covered. Go, now.”

  Liv took a deep breath.

  “Jack, don’t let me die.”

  * * * *

  Liv did as she was told, crawled and prayed. She was surprised the gunman didn’t take another shot at them. After all, they were sitting ducks. As soon as she took off running, he fired again. Shots pinged off the old lampposts and the old large oak tree beside the library. Ducking, Liv tried to avoid the flying debris. Shattered tree bark struck her face and hands, cutting through tender flesh. Covered in blood, she prayed to God she wasn’t going to bleed to death. She and Jack pounded through the trees, tiny missiles of wood flying everywhere. Finally her feet struck the welcome concrete of the parking lot behind the library, out of sight of their assailant.

  She didn’t question him when he tossed her the keys. “You’ll have to drive. I hope you can handle her.”

  Screeching tires, she had the pedal to the floor when she heard him groan beside her. “Jack, what is it?” A sideways glance showed her the blood wasn’t coming from her. Her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach. He’d been shot trying to protect her. He didn’t make a sound, just handed her a phone out of the glove box with his left hand.

  “Call nine-one-one.”

  Liv gripped the steering wheel one handed as she spoke to the operator calmly in a pitiful effort to fight off the panic. Jack sat beside her all stoic and macho, bleeding to death. Because of her, but who would want her dead? She knew she was the target. The shooter had plenty of opportunity to kill Jack, but he had waited until she was in sight, then had only fired again to frighten them. Well, it worked. She was plenty frightened.

  “You’re hurt, Jack. How bad is it? God.” Terror edged its way back and hysteria wanted to move right in.

  “Don’t know. I’ll be okay, Liv, but if you panic I’m only gonna have half as much a chance.” He reached out with his good hand and touched her cheek. “Stay with me and we’ll get through. It’s not the first time I’ve taken a bullet. There will probably be another, though I can’t say that I’ll look forward to it.”

  She let it go for now. What else could she do? She focused on the road and tried not to look at him. Liv screeched up to the emergency doors. She jumped out of the car and ran around to his side to help him.

  Hospitals. The smells and sounds of those who were fighting to live, those who were begging to die, she hated them. Coffee had gone too stale to energize the tired staff. She gave them points for being able to handle the job day in and day out. The pretty nurse who had taken Jack away asked her have a seat in the waiting area. He had been alive when they had reached the hospital, she held on to that, but he had been unconscious, so much blood lost. That had been three hours ago.

  She sat in the plastic salmon colored chair and stared at the door the man she loved had gone into. How could so much happen in barely three days? I love him. Nothing else mattered. Remembering their kiss only a short while ago, it had been like no other she’d experienced. The sea had roared in her ears, she thought, but the sound was so familiar it was a homecoming. Liv hadn’t been able to ignore the colors spiraling around and through her, recognizing them as magic. She had found what she’d waited for all of her life. Liv needed no more than that one meeting of lips to know. It was as if her heart had said, “Oh, well there you are finally.” Still, that same heart was breaking even as she silently surrendered it to him. He would claim it and keep his for someone out of reach. What would she do if he didn’t make it?

  All her thoughts and prayers focused on that door; she begged for his life to be spared and sent her thoughts out to him.

  Alone in the room except for an old woman sitting by herself with her hands in her lap, she watched as a doctor went toward the woman. Liv took one look at his face and knew. His eyes seemed years older than he should have been, like they didn’t quite match his face. Liv heard him recant the same line he’d probably told others. I’m sorry. We did all we could but I’m afraid he passed away. With a swish of his lab coat and the squeak of his tennis shoes on the newly disinfected floor, he walked away. The old woman sobbed across the room. After a while she stood and dried her face with a handkerchief, and walked past her.

  “Ma’am,” Liv addressed her as she passed. “I’m sorry for your loss. Could I phone someone for you?”

  The woman shook her head. “No, young lady, but it was kind of you to ask. There’s no one. He was my only family, my husband.” Fresh tears rolled as she remembered. “I saw your young man when he was brought in. I’ll pray for him.”

  Liv swallowed the hot ball in her throat. “Thank you.”

  As she started to walk away, she turned and said, “Love is precious, just like life, don’t waste either and in the end you’ll have no regrets when yours is over.”

  Her heart froze in her chest when another doctor, still in scrubs, came toward her. “Mrs. Roarke?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m Olivia Corrigan. Jack Roarke is a friend of mine. I brought him in. Is he all right?”

  “Mr. Roarke came through with flying colors. He was lucky that the bullet passed through his shoulder without serious damage. He’ll be coming out of recovery soon.”

  “Can I see him? I have to see him.” If she could see him she’d know it was going to be okay.

  “Normally I can’t allow visitors, except in the instance of family members.”

  “Please, I won’t disturb him. I just need to see for myself.”

  “I’ll see what can be arranged.” He made his exit while a middle-aged couple walked up to the desk, hands clasped tightly together, distracted her attention. They insisted something to the nurse, who waved them in Liv’s direction. As they came toward her, she noted the woman was barely holding up. The man’s eyes were flat and controlled, cop eyes, and trained on her. Since Jack’s parents were dead, she wondered who they were and how they knew him.

  “Excuse me, are you the young woman who brought in Jackson Roarke?”

  She nodded, then straightened and offered her hand.

  He never blinked, but the woman nearly fainted on the spot at the sight. Jack’s blood.

  “Yes, I’m Olivia Corrigan, a friend of Jack’s. Are you
related to him?”

  The lady shook her head.

  “No, but we are close friends. I’m Captain Sam Berringer, Miss Corrigan, and when you’re up to it, I’ll have to get a statement from you. This is my wife Eleanor, Jack’s editor. Ellie, why don’t you wait here and I’ll see what I can do.” He walked to the nurse’s desk, flashed his badge, and was immediately escorted back.

  “I’ve heard a little about you from Jack, Olivia. May I call you Olivia?”

  Liv nodded her head.

  “His mother and I go back a ways. When Jack was on the police force, he served under Sam. His dad was Sam’s partner for a long time. I want to know who did this to him and why.”

  So that was where the authority had come from. He had been a cop, maybe he still was.

  “With due respect Mrs. Berringer, I think it was meant to be me who was shot.”

  Eleanor raised an eyebrow at her. “What makes you think that?”

  Liv carefully replayed her theory in her mind. “The shooter must have been waiting for us, or maybe he followed us, because he didn’t take a shot the whole time we were outside the theatre. We were right in the open and um…” She blushed when she remembered. “Caught off our guard. The shooter waited until I was in plain sight, and only then fired at me. If Jack hadn’t known somehow and knocked me down, I’d be lying in that hospital bed instead of him. I wish I knew why someone would want me dead.” Liv buried her face in her hands and forced back the urge to cry. It wouldn’t do any good now. Tears would solve nothing. Someone had tried to kill her. She was sure of it. They hadn’t succeeded and that meant they would try again. Who might be in the way next time? Ryan? Some hapless passerby on the street?

  “Olivia, you should tell Sam what you told me.”

  “They won’t let me see him. Why won’t they let me see him? I’m not family, but that shouldn’t matter. It’s my fault he’s hurt. I have to.” She couldn’t hold back the worry and fear any longer. Sobs burst out from her heart and she couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted to.

  Eleanor patted her shoulder and let her cry.

  Chapter 8

  Jack sat up weakly in the bed at the click of the door. Cap. He was still a little groggy from the anesthesia.

  “Cap, I want to talk to you about something later. When I’m outta here and get my feet under me. I can’t believe someone was shooting at us and outside the movies for God’s sake. Do you know how many teenagers were there tonight?”

  “What ifs can’t help us. I’m thinking it’s a case of fan rage or something with one of you. I’m going to post guards on you here and at home once you’re there. Miss Corrigan will have them too. Enough business. This is a social call. How’s the shoulder?”

  Before Jack could reply, he winced as the door opened again and the night nurse came in. No rest in a hospital.

  “I’ve come to check your vitals, Mr. Roarke. Are you in any discomfort at the moment?”

  He glowered at her while she poked and prodded.

  “No thanks Nurse ‘Helga.’ I feel great. What’s a little piece of lead ripping through your shoulder anyway?”

  She shook her head and stepped away to make the necessary notes on his chart.

  Sam kept his voice conspiratorially low. “Jack, your lady’s still out in the waiting room with Ellie. I got the impression she’s real upset. They won’t let her back to see you, her not being family and all. Maybe you could...” He trailed off as the nurse turned back to say something to him.

  Jack cleared his throat and yelled at her. “Hey Helga!” That wasn’t really her name but it suited her competent and gruff nature. “If you don’t let Liv back here right now, I’m going to walk right out that door, bullet wound and all.” He made a grab for the I.V. line in his arm. He had no intention of pulling it out, what with all that nice pain medication in it, but she didn’t know that.

  Her thin mouth formed an even thinner line. She was not a nurse woven of the fantasy sort, but if you wanted one out of nightmares, she was your girl. She rested her beefy hands at the wide waist of her white uniform. “No, sir, you will not.”

  “Watch me.” He tossed back the covers and though it cost him a little dizziness he stood up.

  “In your hospital gown? I don’t think so. Now back to bed with you.” She sighed wistfully.

  “I’m not shy, and I’ll make a lot of those pretty nurses out at the desk very happy, the ugly ones too.”

  She finally gave in with a laugh that lit up her stern face. “All right, but in bed you stay.” Then she pointed at Sam. “Law or not, out. Your five minutes are up. Out!”

  A few minutes later, Liv opened the door to his room. Sam had told her of the fit Jack had thrown to get her admitted in, embellished of course.

  “Hey there, Jack.” He could see she was relieved, but there was worry in her eyes, and tears. She’d been crying for him. How long had it been since someone had cared that much?

  “Are you really going to be okay?”

  “Come here, Liv.” He patted the edge of the bed. When she hesitated, he held out his hand to her. “You’re not going to hurt me any. They have enough pain meds in this drip to knock out a horse. I heard you crying and calling me, but I had to have been dreaming.” Jack noticed how gently she sat on the very edge of the bed, probably not wanting to jostle him. Keep it light. “You know something. About four hours ago I decided I wanted you in my bed, but this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  “Well, now, you waste no time making your intentions known, do you? I’ll just file that away for later. So when can I spring you from this joint, officer?”

  Jack didn’t say anything for a moment, but his hand clenched hers. It was a reaction and he released it as soon as it happened. “Former officer, and it was detective before I left. Personal reasons I’d rather not talk about, okay?”

  “Maybe another time then, but I’ve forgotten something.” She leaned down, very carefully, and kissed him. “Thank you, Jack, for saving my life. I’m so sorry it could have cost you yours.”

  “Don’t thank me, Liv.” He narrowed his eyes, studied her. “Why didn’t they check you out downstairs? Somebody should have taken a look at you.” Her forehead had a deep nasty gash on it that had long since stopped bleeding. She could have a head injury. It would probably scar and he’d bet she wouldn’t be happy about it. Her arms were covered in bloody welts. Her jeans were ripped. She was beautiful. “Your pretty face has cuts on it, Liv.”

  “Pretty with gashes on my head?” He wanted to laugh at the way Liv eyed the I.V. line warily. “So what kind of drugs did they give you anyway? Can I have some?”

  Jack craned his neck and followed Liv’s progress across the room. She disappeared through the heavy door into the bathroom. She would assess the damage and see all his blood. “You’re not going to pass out in there, Liv. Come on, pull it together. I’ll call Nurse Helga in here.”

  A smile ghosted her mouth, but when she stumbled back to him, her eyes had gone almost black with shock. He pulled her down to sit beside him with his good arm. “Listen to me, Olivia.” He made his voice firm though it wanted to shake. “You’ve done great so far. Don’t give out on me now.” Why did what could have been always sneak up on you when everything was over and done?

  “I won’t. I’ll be fine.”

  “Just stay with me and we’ll get through it. We’re gonna find out why.”

  “Call your brother and let him take you home. You’ll feel better once you’ve cleaned up and eaten something.”

  “No, I won’t leave ’til you do. I’ll sleep in the lobby if I have to, but stay I will.”

  * * * *

  It was two o’clock in the morning when Ryan was awakened by his telephone ringing. The fear was instantaneous. He cautiously answered it, “Hello?”

  “Corrigan, how is your sister doing after her little tryst in the park?”

  It was him. He had Liv. Full blown panic slammed into him. “What have you done with her?” he
yelled. “Where is she? I swear if you’ve harmed her I’ll—”

  Cold laughter on the line mocked him.

  “You’ll do nothing. I’ll let you wonder for a moment about the where. Don’t think about turning on me. Next time I’ll make sure to be a lot messier. Consider it a friendly warning between business associates.”

  Then there was nothing, no one to plead to. He didn’t need to check her room in question. His mind was screaming. He knew she was dead. It was his fault. He’d brought her here, and now he’d caused his sister’s murder.

  When the phone rang again, he snatched it off the hook.

  “Listen, you bloody bastard. Tell me where the hell she is!”

  The polite voice on the line cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me, sir, I’m sorry to have awakened you, but your sister was involved in an incident earlier. She asked me to call you for her.”

  He listened while the nurse related the information, threw on jeans and a shirt, grabbed his keys and was gone in five minutes.

  Ryan walked into Jack’s room. Stitches rained across Liv’s forehead in an arc over her right eyebrow. One hand held a cup of bad coffee, the other held Jack’s. She looked like a nightmare. There was so much blood on her. She had a smile on her face. God. Relief swamped him. “Liv, what happened?”

  The nurse who poked her head in the door to shush him said, “Now, Mr. Corrigan, your sister is all right, but if you can’t keep your voice down I’m going to have to kick you out of here. Mr. Roarke is recently out of surgery and needs to rest. It’s way beyond visiting hours and you know it.”

  He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry.” He waited until he heard her footsteps go down the hall.

  “Did you bring my things?” She didn’t seem the least concerned.

  “Yes, come home, Liv. You need to sleep. You need real food. You were shot at, for sweet Mary’s sake.”