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Holly Mathis rubbed her shoulder, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. The sounds of the construction by the employee’s entrance hurt her head. Why did they have to make so much noise? She couldn’t even hear herself think. It had been another long night at the hospital and she was looking forward to a hot bath and then crawling into bed. She was tired, but at least it helped keep her mind free from the worry that had occupied her thoughts recently. If she gave herself time to focus on what she’d found and its implications, she might drive herself crazy.
Why didn’t you tell me, Jimmy?
Her husband’s death twelve months ago had left her life shattered and in confusion, but slowly, surely, she’d begun to live again...until two days ago when she’d been cleaning out the closet and discovered the hidden compartment and the leather-bound journal inside. What was written there had rocked her world and sent her reeling back into that place where thoughts of Jimmy occupied her every thought.
Had he died in the line of duty as his partner had claimed? She was beginning to question it. Her first instinct upon finding the journal had been to take it to Jimmy’s chief, but something had stopped her, some invisible hand—Jimmy’s? God’s?—on her soul had warned her to be cautious with what she shared.
Instead she’d photocopied a few pages that highlighted Mason’s wrongdoings and showed them to the chief. He’d been interested, pressing her to bring in the rest of the book, and Holly thought he’d seemed agitated even as he was trying to appear calm. But she’d seen sweat on his brow. He’d been unsettled about Jimmy’s findings, but what police chief wouldn’t be shaken after seeing evidence indicating he had a dirty cop on his force?
And Mason’s numerous visits made sense now, too. He’d become increasingly obsessed with her since Jimmy’s death. His constant calls and visits at the hospital and her home had bordered on harassment. She’d thought several times about filing a complaint with Chief Waggoner, but had hoped the problem would go away on its own and Mason would find someone else to focus his attention on.
Her attempts to appease Mason hadn’t worked and she knew why. He hadn’t really been obsessed with her. He’d been looking for information about what she knew of her husband’s investigation. Well, Mason needn’t have worried. Jimmy had kept his suspicions all to himself and hadn’t told her anything about corruption on the force. He’d seemed anxious and stressed in the last few weeks of his life, but he hadn’t given her any clue as to why when she’d questioned him about his behavior.
She’d been ready to turn the journal over to Chief Waggoner until yesterday when she’d arrived home to find her house had been broken into and trashed. It had been obvious that whoever had broken in had been searching for something—Jimmy’s journal she’d assumed—but when she’d checked the secret hiding spot, it had still been there. They hadn’t found it. The break-in couldn’t have been a coincidence, which left her wondering how Mason had found out about the journal in the first place.
What do I do now?
She didn’t know who she was talking to—Jimmy? Or God? She hadn’t spoken to God in nearly a year, not after He’d taken her husband from her and left her a widow. But she let the question float out there and hoped for an answer. She sighed as she pulled her keys from her purse. Maybe she was reading too much into this and the break-in at her house had nothing to do with Jimmy’s journal, after all.
She reached to unlock her car door, stopping when she spotted the shadow of a man in the window. Her heart leaped at the sight, but her instincts kicked in. She ducked, causing him to miss as he reached to grab her and hit the window instead. She spun around to face him.
Mason!
He raised his gun at her and words of protest caught in her throat. Fear rippled through her. At this close distance she could smell the acrid, sulfur aroma that indicated he’d fired his weapon recently. Very recently.
“Hello, Holly,” he snarled, his face contorted and bitter.
She saw murder in his eyes and knew she was in trouble. Jimmy had taught her about guns and had even bought her one for safety before he’d died, but the hospital had a strict no-guns policy so it was safely locked inside her car—so close but so out of reach. She had to find a way to get to it.
She raised her hands, palms out, in a take-it-easy kind of gesture. “Mason, what are you doing? Put the gun down.”
He shook his head. “No, Holly. Tell me where the book is.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We both know that’s a lie.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and threw it on the ground. She saw that it was one of the copied pages of the journal.
“Where did you get that?”
“Did you think you could hide it from me? Tell me where the book is, Holly, and I’ll kill you quickly. Don’t tell me and I’ll kill you slowly and find it anyway.”
He gripped the gun tighter and Holly felt her blood go cold. This was it. This was where she was going to die. But she wouldn’t give him what he wanted.
“You’ll never find it,” she whispered and saw his face contort. Tears warmed her eyes and she began to shake. She choked them back and prepared to fight for her life, but before she could act, another man—this one broad and muscular—leaped from behind a car and tackled Mason as he fired.
Holly dived for the ground as the blast of the gun rang in her ears. She scrambled for cover in front of the car then peeked around the bumper to see Mason and the other man hit the ground. The gun slipped from Mason’s hand and spun across the asphalt beneath her car. Holly considered crawling after it, but Mason and her rescuer were in the way. The broad-shouldered man was on top of Mason. He punched him and Mason slumped to the ground.
The man crawled to his feet and looked around, spotting her crouched behind a parked car. Using his sleeve, he wiped sweat from his brow and then held out his hand to her. “Don’t be afraid. My name is Blake Michaels. I’m here to help you.” Urgency poured from him as Mason began to squirm, mere moments from regaining consciousness. “We have to go. Now.”
Holly took his outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet, but she hesitated at following him, glancing at her car. Should she try to get past Mason to retrieve her gun and cell phone?
“He wants you dead,” Blake said matter-of-factly, interrupting her indecision. “He wants us both dead. Now, let’s get out of here before he comes to and finishes the job he started.”
She glanced back at Mason, still trying to pull himself awake. He’d come to kill her tonight and he almost had. This man, whoever he was, had saved her life.
She nodded and followed him to a Dodge Ram pickup. He unlocked the doors and she slid across the seat as he got in on the driver’s side. Holly spotted blood on his hands as he started the engine. Her gaze moved to his midsection, where a dark circle was growing on his shirt.
“You’re hurt,” she stated as he took off. “What happened?”
He waved away her concern. “It’s nothing. The bullet just grazed me.”
“I’m a nurse. I should take a look at it.”
“Maybe later. First we have to get as far away from Mason Webber as possible.”
She looked at the handsome stranger who had saved her life and shuddered. Mason had shot him, actually shot him, proving that he was even more dangerous than Holly had wanted to admit.
How do I get myself into these situations?
“Okay, so I know what he has against me. Why does he want you dead, Blake Michaels?”
“That is a long story.” He moved his hand from the steering wheel and felt along the seat as he drove. “Do you see my cell phone anywhere?”
Holly glanced around but didn’t see it. “No.”
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “I must have dropped it. Do you have a phone?”
“No. We’re not allowed to bring them inside during our shifts. It’s locked inside my car.” Along with my gun. She sighed, wishing she had both right now.
He didn’t slow down as they approached the turnoff for the police precinct. In fact, he drove right by it. “Aren’t we going to the police station? We need to let them know what just happened tonight.”
He shook his head but didn’t let up on the accelerator. “We can’t go to the police.”
“Why not? I know Mason is a cop but he’s out of his mind. The chief needs to know he’s dangerous.”
“I said no police.” His voice was sharp and biting.
He was so insistent that it caused her to wonder why he was wary of police involvement. She realized she didn’t even know this man she’d gotten into a truck with. “Why don’t you want to go to the police? Are you a criminal?”
“No, I’m a cop.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open on the seat. She saw a badge and breathed a sigh of relief.
When she picked it up, something fell out. She reached down and picked it up. It was a ring...an engagement ring. She glanced at him but he hadn’t noticed the ring slip out. He was busy checking the mirrors. She slipped the ring back into his wallet and examined the badge. His name was written on his credentials. Blake Michaels, Northshore Police. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a criminal, but she still didn’t know anything about him except that he didn’t trust his fellow officers and he carried an engagement ring around with him.
“If you’re one of them, then why not go to the cops?”
“Because Mason wasn’t working alone. The force is corrupt. We can’t trust anyone.”
She gasped. Corrupt cops? How did he know? Jimmy had suspected as much before he died. In fact, he’d been looking into acts of corruption by his partner, according to the journal she’d discovered. Mason had seemed to have no fear of reprimand in his behavior tonight. But was the entire department really so corrupt that they could ignore attempted murder?
“So if we’re not going to the police, where are we going?”
“We need to get out of town fast, out of their jurisdiction.”
Getting to the next town was a sensible idea. They could sort this all out once they were there. She noticed the spot on his shirt growing larger. “You’ll never make it. You’re bleeding too badly. My friend Marcy’s apartment is a few blocks over. I know where she hides the emergency key. We should go there first so I can take a look at your wound.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“You’re going to bleed out before we hit the town line and it’s at least five miles before we’ll find a place to get supplies. Marcy’s a nurse, too. She’ll have bandages there.”
“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
She shook her head. “Neither Marcy or her roommate are at home now. They both went on duty as I was getting off.”
He grimaced at the pain then nodded his agreement. “We can’t stay long.”
She directed him to the apartment and he parked behind the building. “In case he drives by,” he explained.
When they got out, Holly noticed him holding his hand over his wound. He looked pale and she wondered if he could even make it up the stairs. “It’s on the second floor. I’ll help you up.”
He waved away her offer of assistance. “I’ll make it.” He leaned on the handrail and followed her up the steps.
Looking at the blood on his shirt and hands, she didn’t know how he was standing and suspected his wound was more than a graze. She hoped he didn’t have a bullet lodged in his abdomen or damage to his internal organs. She wouldn’t know until she could examine the wound.
Holly found the emergency key under a planter and used it to unlock the door. She ushered Blake inside. “Have a seat on the couch. I’ll go get the first-aid kit.”
“Is there a phone here?”
She shook her head. “No landline. Marcy and her roommate use their cell phones.”
She hurried down the hall to the bathroom and grabbed the kit and a stack of towels, stopping to catch her breath before returning to the living room. This was all happening so fast and now her protector, the man who’d saved her, might be seriously injured. She had to help him.
He was stretched out on the couch when she returned, his long legs hanging over one end and his gun now on the table inches from his hand. She was struck by his long, muscular frame and a pang of envy rushed through her as she remembered the ring inside his wallet.
He reached out and touched her arm, a soft, gentle touch that sent a spark of electricity through her. “Are you okay?”
She smiled, realizing he was the one hurt and yet was concerned about her. What would it be like to have a brave, handsome man like Blake in her life? She knew the answer to that. She’d had one...and she’d lost him in the line of duty. She’d hardly given romance a second thought since Jimmy’s death. But now, as she realized how close she’d come to her life ending, she acknowledged the deep longing ache in her heart for someone to share her life with. Her husband’s death had ended her dream, but she was still young and many of her friends had pressed her to start dating again.
“I’m fine,” she said, determined not to let her vulnerability show and convinced the trauma of the past hour was causing her emotions to go wacky.
She knelt beside him and shifted into nurse mode. She lifted his shirt, wiping away blood so she could see the wound. Thankfully, he’d been right. The gash wasn’t big enough for the bullet to have gone in. “It must have grazed you. It’s not even that deep.”
“Why is it bleeding so much?”
“Because you’re moving around and because of where the wound is. You could probably use some stitches, but we’ll have to make do.” She cleaned him off then taped a bandage over it. “You’re fortunate it was only a flesh wound. It could have been much worse.”
“I know. He took me by surprise. He meant to kill me.” He sat up and stared at her, his blue eyes piercing as he looked her in the eye. “He meant to kill us both.”
She nodded, realizing he was right. Mason wanted her dead. The thought shook her. She was used to seeing the effects of violence in her job as an ER nurse, but this was different. This was personal. “You still haven’t told me why he wants you dead.”
She picked up discarded bandage wrappers as he pulled down his shirt and sat up. “He found out I’ve been investigating him. There’s a major drug operation happening in Northshore. I believe Mason and several other officers are involved in it. Mason said someone high up was involved.”
“How high up?”
“High enough to pay off the coroner so he’d classify our deaths as a murder/suicide after Mason killed us.”
She gasped, stunned by his bravado. “He really said that?”
He nodded then stood and walked to the window, glancing out. “The thing is, I don’t know who to trust on the force. Everyone is suspect.”
“Do you really believe there’s that much corruption?”
“It’s a small-town force. Most of these boys grew up here and have known one another since birth. They’re wary of outsiders. There are only a handful from out of town and that was only after Mayor Banks ran on the platform of improving police procedures. She wanted college graduates with more criminal justice education and insisted the city offer them leadership positions. Only two of us are still around. The others got fed up with small-town politics and left.”
She nodded, remembering the mayor’s platform. Jimmy had been taking night classes to finish his degree and he’d hoped to nab one of those supervisory spots. But he’d been killed before finishing. And she wasn’t surprised so many had gotten fed up and left. “Why would so many accept a job in Northshore?”
He turned to look at her and she thought she saw pain flash through his eyes. “Some like the idea of joining the force with some influence. Some who’ve worked in the big city are looking for the slower-paced life. Others just needed a change.”
His expression told her instinctively he’d been one of the ones who’d needed a change. Something had happened to him, something that had wounded him deeply. Did it have something to do with that ring he carried around?
Blake’s investigation into corruption among his fellow officers showed he had integrity. She respected that he’d made a vow to this town and this police force to clean it up and he was following through.
“I need to change my clothes,” she said, getting up and walking down the hallway toward the bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes and wishing this all away. She discarded her scrubs and slipped into a pair of Marcy’s jeans and a blouse she borrowed from her closet. Thankfully, they wore the same size. She moved to the bathroom and leaned into the sink as anger pulsed through her.
Only a few days after the funeral, Mason and a few other officers had come to their house and toted away boxes of information they’d claimed were part of an investigation. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but now she knew that Mason had been at the center of Jimmy’s investigation. And she’d let him walk out with her husband’s work. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was now trying to kill her. And she was trapped with a man she didn’t even know. He claimed to be one of the good guys and he seemed to have the same mission her husband had had—ferreting out corruption among the police—but she didn’t know Blake Michaels and had no idea if she could trust him or not.
“What should I do?” She whispered the question to Jimmy. When no apparent answer presented itself, she moved from the bathroom to the bedroom door and cracked it open. She could see Blake standing guard at the window.
Her instincts said she could trust Blake, and she had little choice right now. She would go with him and let the state police worry about who was corrupt and who wasn’t.
She walked into the living room and he turned from the window.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes sincere and full of concern.
“I’m fine. Everything is just happening so fast.”
“I know. It’s a lot to take in.”
She handed him a clean shirt. “I found this in Marcy’s closet. It’s probably her boyfriend’s shirt, but it should fit you and it’s clean. You can change in the bathroom.”
“Thank you.” He disappeared down the hall then returned a moment later having discarded the blood soaked shirt and buttoning up the one she’d given him.
She couldn’t help noticing the nice lines of his shoulders and felt herself blush. Yet before she could even chide herself for noticing, a noise outside stopped her. Blake hurried back to the window and his jaw clenched.
“It’s Mason.”
She ran to the window. “What? How did he know we were here?”
