Kitabı oku: «In the Enemy's Sights», sayfa 3

“Your grandfather was right. You do look tired. Want some coffee?”

“I can get it—” she began, but he was already crossing to the coffee pot.

“I’ve got it. Hope you can drink my brew. I needed something to keep me awake.”

She took the mug he handed her. Now that she looked, she saw the marks of sleeplessness on his face that must also be evident on hers. Was Ken troubled by dreams, too—dreams of his plane spiraling toward the earth?

“What kept you up?” She sipped at the hot, strong coffee, and it nearly scalded her mouth.

“The new man Quinn hired for the night patrol couldn’t start for a couple of days, so we took turns doing some random checks overnight.” He ran his hand through his short brown hair. “Guess I’ve gotten out of the habit of working odd hours.”

“I didn’t realize.” Her thoughts darted to Jay. “Was everything quiet?”

His face tightened. “Quiet enough here. But while we were putting extra protection here, vandals went after the hospital site.”

“Oh, no.” They both knew the company couldn’t stand any more delays on the project.

“Quinn’s down there now, trying to get things moving again.” He shook his head, the lines etching deeper on his face. “I don’t know what’s going on, Juli. But I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

“This vandalism has everyone jittery,” Julianna said, pulling back into her parking spot at the office that night. Angel, sitting beside her, gave a soft woof, as if to express interest.

“And it’s a good thing I have you to talk to, or I might start talking to myself.” She rubbed behind Angel’s ears, earning a rough, wet kiss from the dog’s tongue. “Come on, girl. I just need to pick up Gram’s basket, and then we’ll go home and have a run before bed.”

Maybe a good long run would tire her out enough to sleep tonight without dreams. One thing about having Angel along—she could run any time of the day or night without fearing for her safety. Nobody messed with a woman accompanied by a German shepherd.

The office was dark and quiet. She picked up the basket she’d left on the counter next to the coffeemaker. No one would appreciate coming in to leftover gnocchi congealing in the casserole dish. Good as it had been, she hadn’t been able to finish it. She’d intended to have the rest for supper, but she’d gotten busy and forgotten to take it home.

Well, everything seemed quiet enough tonight. She went out, Angel at her heels, and locked the door behind her. As she set the basket on the backseat of the car, Angel woofed softly. She glanced at her.

The dog stared into the shadowy yard, her ears pricked up, tail waving.

“What is it, girl?” She closed the car door, looking across the yard, her eyes adjusting to the dimness. “Do you see someone?”

No. Angel had heard something, and now she heard it, too—a soft footfall, somewhere beyond the circle of light cast by the fixture over the office door.

A frisson of apprehension slid across her skin. It was probably nothing—just the night watchman on his rounds. But with everything that had happened lately, she couldn’t ignore it.

Making a swift decision, she took the flashlight from the glove compartment and locked the door. She dropped the key into the pocket of her jean jacket and turned toward the yard.

Angel was with her. She didn’t have to fear any intruder—one snarl from the dog would probably be enough to send anyone running.

She started toward what she thought was the source of the sound, moving quietly, Angel close against her side. She strained her ears for any noise, even knowing that Angel would hear anything first.

Pallets of lumber, arranged in rows, innocent enough in the daylight, loomed over her like pallid giants, waiting to pounce. There were too many hiding places in the dark. She sent the beam of her flashlight probing along the row, lighting up the dark corners.

Nothing. Maybe she’d imagined the sound. Or it was the night watchman moving along on his lawful rounds.

But that rational explanation didn’t erase the apprehension that skittered along her skin, making the hair stand up on her arms.

Angel’s hair stood up, too, making a ruff around her neck. Because the dog picked up on her nervousness, or because Angel sensed something wrong, too? Impossible to tell, but dog or human, the response was the same.

They reached the end of the row of pallets, where an open space ran like an alley between the rows for access. She stopped, hand on Angel’s head, and aimed the light down the alleyway between the pallets. Lumber gleamed palely in the light, and down toward the far end, something moved.

For an instant her breath caught in her throat. Then she recognized that erect, military posture, the set of strong shoulders. It was Ken. He’d said he and Quinn were taking turns to patrol.

She could slip quietly away. He need never know that she’d been here.

But even as she started to turn, Angel began to bark. Not a soft woof—a full-throated alarm. She felt the dog’s muscles bunch under her hand.

Ken whirled toward them at the sound. She had a glimpse of the pale shirt front under his dark jacket. Angel strained against her hand, barking furiously.

“Angel—”

But the rebuke died on her lips. The stack of lumber that loomed over Ken—ten or twelve feet high at least—seemed to shudder. For an instant she thought it was an optical illusion. Then she saw that the whole stack was moving, gaining momentum as it went.

Her cry was lost in Angel’s fierce barking. The stack of heavy lumber toppled toward Ken. She saw his startled face, saw his arm flung up to protect his head.

And then the lumber fell, crashing to the ground with a roar that reverberated, shattering the night air with a million echoes.

She couldn’t see Ken any longer, just a cloud of dust that billowed into the air like a dense, malignant fog.

FOUR

Angel bounded forward almost before Julianna realized she’d given the signal. She ran after the dog, heart pounding in her throat. Ken—

Please, Lord. Please, Lord. She couldn’t seem to verbalize the rest of a prayer, but God surely knew what she meant.

She plunged into the dust cloud, coughing and choking. “Ken! Where are you?”

Angel was already there, barking, nosing at the lumber that had fallen like jackstraws scattered by a giant hand. If Ken was buried under all of that, he’d be badly hurt.

But Angel had focused on the edge of the pile, not the center, and even as Julianna scrambled to the spot, the timbers began to shift. Ken’s arm emerged, then his head. He was coughing, but he was conscious and moving.

Thank You, Lord. Thank You.

“Easy. Take it easy.” She reached him and clasped his hand. It was warm and vital, and a wave of thankfulness flooded her. “I’ll get help.”

“No.” His hand tightened on hers. “I’m all right. Just help me get out.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t move.”

“I’m fine.” His voice was impatient, and he shoved at the nearest timber.

Angel climbed on the pile, nosing a piece of wood away from him, and then licked his face.

Ken patted her. “Okay, Angel. I’m sure my face is dirty. Just give me a minute.”

The normality of his tone reassured her. She began pulling two-by-fours away from him. He helped, shoving them until his legs were clear. He got up gingerly, and she reached out a hand to help him out of the pile.

Once on solid ground, he flexed his arms experimentally, winced and rubbed his shoulder. “Ouch. Those two-by-fours pack quite a wallop.”

“My car’s over by the office. Let me run you over to Vance Memorial to get checked out.”

What must it be like to have a hospital named for your family? She couldn’t even imagine.

Ken shook his head decisively. “No way. The last thing I need is any doctor getting his hands on me. I’ve had enough of that the last couple of months.”

“But you’re hurt—”

“Bumps and bruises. I’ve felt worse after a game of basketball with my brother.” He looked down at his dust-covered clothes. The knee of his jeans was ripped. “I can’t go home like this, though. My mother would have hysterics.”

Surely he couldn’t sound that normal if he were really hurt. She managed a smile, relieved.

“You can clean up in the office. Quinn keeps a stash of clothes there so he can change. He probably has something that will fit you.”

He nodded, took a step, and winced again. When she put her arm around his waist, her shoulder under his, he didn’t reject the support. They made their way slowly toward the office, Angel circling them.

She had to prop Ken against the door frame while she found the key, but once she had the door open, he moved through without help. She followed, switching on lights.

“Do you want me to call Quinn?”

He paused, frowning. “Not yet. Let me think about it while I get cleaned up. I don’t suppose there’s any coffee left in that pot.”

“I’ll make some. Do you need any help?”

Ken’s grin broke through, his teeth flashing white in his dust-caked face. “I can get into the shower myself. Thanks anyway, Juli.”

The door closed before she could think of a smart retort.

Maybe that was just as well. She busied herself with the coffeemaker, half listening to the drumming of water from the shower in the bathroom on the other side of Quinn’s office.

He’d picked up on her grandfather’s nickname for her. Juli. She wasn’t sure she liked that. It seemed to bring Ken too far into her life, but she didn’t know what she could do about it.

About the time the coffee’s aroma filled the room, the office door opened. Ken had changed into jeans and a T-shirt she recognized as Quinn’s. His hair was wet and tousled from the shower, and the intimacy of the moment made her heart give a little lurch.

She turned away, pouring coffee into mugs. “You’d better figure out some way of hiding that lump on your forehead if you don’t want your mother asking embarrassing questions.” She carried the mug to him, black, the way he liked it.

He touched the bump gingerly, then finger-combed his hair over it. “How’s that?”

She would not stand there looking up into his face. She swung back to get her own mug, adding sugar.

“You’ll get by if she doesn’t see you in a bright light, but it will probably be purple by morning. How are you going to explain that?”

“I don’t know. Bumped it on a door?” He came across the room to take up his favorite perch on the edge of her desk. “I don’t make a habit of lying to my mother, but she’s been way too nervous about me since I got home. I don’t want to give her another reason to tell me I should sit in the house and let her wait on me.”

She wouldn’t like that herself. “It’s natural, I’m afraid. My grandmother’s the same way.”

He smiled. “Hence the arrival of your grandfather with lunch today.”

“Yes.” She returned the smile.

The office was perfectly quiet except for the ticking of the round clock that hung over her desk and the muted murmur of the coffeepot. Angel circled twice on the rug and lay down, nose on her paws, watching them.

This was entirely too comfortable—sitting here alone with Ken, relieved that he was all right. “Did you decide about calling Quinn?”

He frowned, as if he didn’t like being reminded about the night’s problems. “He’ll be coming to relieve me in an hour. I’ll talk to him about it then. It’s not as if we can do anything in the dark.”

“The men will make short work of getting the lumber stacked again once they get here in the morning. But I think you should go on home. I’ll wait for Quinn to arrive, if you want.”

She didn’t think he’d accept that. Sure enough, he was shaking his head before she got the words out.

“No, thanks. I’ll hang around.” The furrows deepened between his brows. “I wasn’t worried about restacking the lumber, though.”

She stared at him blankly. “What then?”

He set the mug down on her desk and leaned toward her, face intent. “What made the lumber fall to begin with?”

“Well, I—I don’t know.” How odd it was, that she hadn’t even thought about that. She’d been too focused on Ken’s safety.

“Neither do I. But I’m going to find out.” When she didn’t respond, he shook his head impatiently. “Wake up, Juli. That lumber didn’t fall accidentally just when I was walking by.”

She rubbed her forehead. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m being so stupid. Those stacks are perfectly secure. One couldn’t collapse unless—”

“Unless somebody made it happen,” he finished for her. His voice was grim.

“More vandalism. But this isn’t like putting sugar in the gas tanks. You were hurt.” A shudder went through her.

“If Angel hadn’t barked when she did, warning me, I would have had more than a few bruises to show for it.” His face was grim. “I’d have been buried under that pile of lumber.”

Ken pulled into the driveway at his mother’s house a couple hours later and frowned at the sight of his brother’s car. So much for his hope of sneaking into the house without encountering his mother. All the lights blazed.

What was going on? Usually Mom was ensconced in bed at this hour, half reading, half watching the news on television. He’d counted on just poking his face in long enough to say good-night and beating a quick retreat before she realized anything was wrong.

Quinn wouldn’t have called, would he? Or Julianna? Surely not. Well, he better go in and face the music.

It didn’t take more than an instant to realize that his accident was, for once, not his mother’s preoccupation. His brother, Michael, sat on the sofa, his arm around the shoulders of his girlfriend, Layla Dixou. Both wore a glow that was unmistakable, and if he hadn’t figured it out from Mike’s expression, he’d have guessed from the fact that his mother was smiling through tears.

He grinned, holding out his hand to Mike. “Let me guess. I need to congratulate you.”

Mike stood, his grin threatening to split his lean face. “You’d better. Layla has finally agreed to marry me.” He reached toward her, and the lovely lady vet stood, stepping into the circle of his arm.

“How could I refuse?” She kissed his cheek lightly. “Strange as it seems, I love the guy.”

A handshake didn’t seem enough. He grabbed his brother in a hug and wrapped his other arm around Layla. He bent to kiss her cheek.

“Welcome. I always wanted another sister.”

“Oh my goodness—Holly.” Mom wiped tears from her cheeks with both palms. “We have to call and tell her. She’ll be so excited.”

“You mean she’ll be mad that I knew first.” Holly, as the elder twin by ten minutes, always wanted to know everything and do everything first.

Mike punched him lightly on the arm. “That’s what it is to live at home again, buddy. You get to be first.”

Mike meant it as a joke, of course, but it was yet another reminder that other people were getting on with their lives while he was stuck in limbo, waiting. Just waiting.

“Right.” He managed a smile, but the stricken look in Mike’s eyes told him Mike had realized what he’d said. “Relax, Mike. It’s good to be one up on Hol for once.”

Mom seemed to have missed that byplay, which was just as well. She caught Layla by the hand, drawing her toward the kitchen. “Come with me to call her, Layla. She’ll want to talk to you.”

“Hey, won’t she want to talk to me?” Mike made a transparent effort to sound hurt.

“Not unless you want to talk about white lace and orange blossoms.” Layla patted his cheek. “Consider yourself lucky to miss the girl talk.”

Mom and Layla disappeared into the kitchen. Ken had to grin at the expression on Mike’s face.

“Hey, didn’t you realize that was what was coming next? A wedding, with all the trimmings.”

Mike shrugged. “I didn’t think. I mean, Layla’s kind of unconventional. I thought maybe we’d just get married, not have a big production.”

“Layla might let you get away with that, but Mom and Holly certainly wouldn’t. Brace yourself, big brother. You’re in for it now.”

Mike squared his shoulders, as if prepared to face anything. “Well, it’s worth it to end up married to Layla. She’s one in a million. What she sees in me and a rundown ranch—”

“Guess there’s no accounting for tastes.” He tried to speak lightly, but there was a lump in his throat. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I am.” Mike said the words as if they were a vow. “You ought to try it, Ken. Quit playing the field and get serious about someone.”

“Playing the field is the last thing I’ve been doing. Trust me, I was too busy to think much about dating. And lately—”

Lately he’d been shuttled from one hospital to another, listening to one Air Force doctor after another.

Mike seemed to pick up on what he didn’t say. “Well, you’re home now, for awhile at least. Why don’t you make some nice Springs woman happy by asking her out?”

“You sound like Holly. Don’t tell me you’re going to turn into a matchmaker, too?”

Although, come to think of it, he did have a date of sorts, with Julianna. He’d better not let Holly get wind of that, or she’d never let him forget her efforts.

“No, no.” Mike shuddered. “None of that for me. I don’t understand heifers, let alone women.”

“Well, you’ve got Layla to take care of that now.”

“Right.” His face grew serious. “After as close to death as we came in that cave-in, I’m not letting her get away from me. Guess you know it was Julianna Red Feather who found us. Are you seeing anything of her over at the construction company?”

“Some.” Mike didn’t need to know how much. Or how recently. “I’ve seen her work with that dog of hers. Pretty impressive, what she does.”

“Nobody knows that better than I do.” His brow furrowed. “I heard from somebody that coming in after Layla and me was the first time she’d been out with her team since that big hurricane last year in Florida. I guess she went through a pretty bad time there.”

It wasn’t any of his business, was it? And yet he couldn’t help caring about anything that had to do with Julianna.

“I hadn’t heard about that, but she’s training with her team now. They were out at the construction yard running a drill.”

“Good. Seems like something too important to give up.” Mike shook his head, smiling. “Funny to think of little Julianna doing that, doesn’t it?”

“Five-foot-two inches of nerve and muscle, that’s Julianna.” She had to have enough courage for three people to do what she did, and he was always intrigued by courage.

“That’s who you ought to ask out.” Mike reverted with unnerving suddenness to the previous topic. “Mom would be delighted to see you dating Julianna.”

“Mom’s already delighted enough with your engagement. That’ll keep her busy for a while.” Who was he kidding? If Mom got wind of him going out with Julianna, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You wish.” Mike grinned, obviously pleased at having scored off his little brother. “And speaking of Mom, you’d best do something to hide that lump on your head.”

He brushed his hair in his face again. Too bad he still wore it in a regulation military cut. “Better?”

“Just don’t let her see you in a bright light. What happened?”

Mike was safe enough, but he didn’t want rumors to start spreading about Montgomery Construction. “Not much. Just a little accident down at the construction yard.”

Mike snorted. “Seems to me entirely too many ‘little accidents’ are happening to be accidental.”

It was what he’d been thinking himself, but he was startled to hear it from his brother. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t believe in coincidence. It’d be nice to think that business with the drug cartel last year was over, but I’m starting to wonder.”

Now he was startled. “I thought the ringleader, Escalante, died in a plane crash.”

“Never believe everything you hear. They never found his body, and he was the kind that had as many lives as a cat.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but I don’t think so. Something’s going on.” He squeezed Ken’s shoulder. “You be careful, you hear?”

Julianna pulled into the parking area at the office early the next morning. She hadn’t expected to be able to sleep after Ken’s accident the night before, but to her surprise, she’d dived into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in a week. She wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but at least she’d awakened feeling ready to go.

Somehow she wasn’t surprised to see the silver compact Ken drove pull up next to her. Ken wasn’t the kind of person who’d take a day off because of a bump on the head.

She got out and stood beside the car, waiting for him to join her. She inspected his forehead.

“Like I said, purple.”

He frowned in annoyance. “You sound like my mother.”

“Your mother’s a very nice lady, but I have no desire to sound like her. What did you and Quinn do after I left last night?”

“Hashed it out without coming to any conclusions.” He glanced toward the spot where the lumber lay strewn on the ground. “We’ll need to take a good look around in daylight, see if we can find anything. He insisted I go on home. Said he’d make spot checks the rest of the night.”

She nodded, getting out her key. “The new man is supposed to start tonight. That should ease the burden.”

“Right. Quinn can’t expect to stand guard at night and still function during the day. At least they left us alone the rest of the night.”

She grasped the door handle, starting to put her key in the lock. But she couldn’t. The lock was dented, and the slightest pressure from the key sent the door shifting slightly open.

She exchanged a startled look with Ken. Before she could move he grasped her arm and drew her behind him. Then he shoved the door fully open.

Julianna couldn’t suppress a gasp. The office looked as if a small tornado had ripped through it. They’d been wrong. The vandals hadn’t left them alone.

For a moment she could only stand and stare. Then fury poured through her. She started toward her desk phone, which lay on the floor on top of the philodendron that had been on the windowsill.

“I’ll call the police.”

“Wait.” Ken’s hand on her arm stopped her. He already had his cell phone out, and he pulled her toward the door. “Let me get Quinn first. That decision is his call.”

He was right, of course, but even so she itched to be doing something. She leaned against her car, listening while he described the situation to Quinn in a few words. She couldn’t make out individual words in Quinn’s agitated response, but she thought she got the message.

When Ken hung up, she raised her eyebrows at him.

“No police.” He shrugged. “I don’t agree with him, but it’s his business, not mine. And he’s right about one thing—as of tonight, we’ll have twenty-four-hour guards on duty.”

“I guess I can understand his viewpoint. No one would want to hire a construction company that’s a target for vandals. They’d think their property would be next on the list.” She moved to the doorway and surveyed the mess. “I guess I’d better get started cleaning this up.”

“We,” Ken said. “We will clean up. And Quinn’s on his way.”

She nodded and bent to pick up her philodendron. “Poor thing.”

“Toss it in the trash,” Ken said abruptly. “I’ll get you a new one.”

She was, quite irrationally, angry. “I don’t want a new one. I want this one!” She stopped, shaking her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“That’s all right. I feel like snapping, too.” Ken picked up a trash can. “You decide. You tell me what’s safe to throw away.”

“Well, the coffee can go, for starters.” The contents of the two-pound can had been liberally sprinkled over the mass of papers on the floor. “There’s a broom and dustpan in the closet. If you just want to stack the papers, I’ll have to go through all of them. Though I probably have everything on my computer.”

Ken’s gaze narrowed as he transferred his gaze to the computer on her desk. She caught his meaning instantly, and dropped the plant to step over her overturned chair to the desk.

“If they’ve broken my computer—” But the blue screen appeared, followed by her desktop. “No, thank goodness. That would have been the worst.”

“Don’t you have everything backed up?” His tone was sharp, and she bristled at the implied criticism.

“I’m backed up for system failure, not vandalism. Who would expect that? But from now on, everything will go home with me on a flash drive backup.”

“Right.” He ran his hand through his hair, making the purple bruise on his forehead stand out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticize. Nobody expects something like this. Although—”

She righted her chair. “Although what?”

“Given everything that’s been going wrong in the past few months—” He shook his head. “I’m beginning to find it hard to believe there’s not something—or someone—behind this sudden rash of misfortune.”

Her first impulse was to deny it. People didn’t carry on vendettas in placid Colorado Springs. But Ken had a point.

“A lot of bad things have been happening to the Montgomerys and Vances lately,” she said slowly.

“Too many bad things.” His frown deepened. “Michael thinks it’s mixed up with that ugly business last year.”

“The drug cartel?” That exposure had been front page news in The Colorado Springs Sentinel for months. “I thought they arrested those people.”

“Not all of them. And the way things have been going on around here, it seems as if someone’s got Montgomery Construction in his gun sight.”

She could only stare at him for a long moment. “You’re serious?”

“Like I said, I don’t believe in coincidence.” He shrugged, bending to pick up a handful of papers. “Although I have to admit, this seems like a pretty ineffective way of harassing us.”

“Yes,” she said slowly, her mind churning with possibilities. She sank down in the desk chair and began paging through her files.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going to help me clean up this mess before we get back to work.”

“In a minute.”

A bad feeling was growing inside her as she flipped through the files. Ken was right. This was a pretty ineffective way of shutting down a construction company. But if you knew enough, there was a better way.

Ken came to lean over her, hands braced on the back of her chair. She seemed to feel them, as if they were pressed on her shoulders.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something a little more important than spilled coffee.”

She opened the report she’d been working on the day before—the latest report on the construction project at the hospital. She paged through it, half-afraid of what she was going to find, her certainty growing.

“There,” she said at last. “This is what they were really after.”

He bent over her, his breath feathering against her cheek. “What is it?”

“The report Quinn was going to present to the hospital board later today.” Today.

“Just looks like rows of figures to me.”

“It is.” She bit her lip. If she was making a mistake…but she knew in her heart she wasn’t. “They’ve been changed.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because I did this report yesterday. I remember what the numbers should be.”

Ken was looking at her with a skeptical expression, and her anger spurted.

“You don’t need to look at me that way. I remember the work I’ve done. And I certainly remember what the figures are supposed to show.”

He nodded slowly, and she knew he was accepting her judgment. “So someone tampered with this report. What does it mean?”

She paused, giving herself a moment to question her hunch. But she was right. She knew it.

“If Quinn had presented this report to the hospital board without catching this, it would have looked as if Montgomery Construction were trying to cheat on the contract.”

“In other words, that sort of accusation could have meant the end of Montgomery Construction.” Ken’s hand tightened painfully on her shoulder.

She didn’t mind. It made her feel as if she and Ken were united against an enemy. And it began to look as if the feeling was true.