She stuffed gauze, sterile tape and antibiotics that could be used on animals or humans into a makeshift medical pack, added rubbing alcohol, electrolyte water and iodine for good measure, then zipped it closed and swung the bag onto her shoulder.
Through the window she noticed a shadow pass by outside. Apparently McBride truly did want to be gone, and quick. She was more than happy to facilitate that desire. She opened the side door, intending to offer some comment in line with her mood, when a weak beam of light from the porch slanted across the shadows face. It was not McBride.
Quickly she eased the door shut, not making a sound. Then she turned. McBride! She doubted he could hear her urgent whisper. Still holding the medi-pack, she ran for the lab. And plowed right into his chest.
He steadied her with his good hand as he glanced over her shoulder. Is someone out there?
A guy with a gun. A big one.
Did he see you?
Im not sure. Maybe.
McBride stuffed the Glock hed evidently retrieved into his waistband. Can you describe him?
Long hair, ratty beard, nose ring. She let him nudge her to a less visible exit. Eddie?
Yeah. He kept his eyes moving. Bastard. I drove in ten different directions before coming here. I thought Id lost him. With a glance out the window and another behind them, he positioned her next to the door. Stay right here, Alessandra. Dont move.
He drew his gun, pointed it up. Alessandras muscles knotted.
The moment McBride left, she went for the medicine cupboard, unlocked it and pulled out the .45 Dr. Lang kept there. She had to go through his desk for the bullets. Grabbing her purse, she doused the scattering of overhead lights, shoved everything into a backpack, then froze when she caught a faint creak of hinges behind her.
Instinct told her it wasnt McBride. Careful not to make any sound, she ran back to the door, took a quick look into the rain and slipped out onto the wraparound porch.
She saw McBrides black truckbarelyin a far corner of the lot. A light appeared, then vanished, in one of the examination rooms. Eddie must be working his way through the building. With an eye on the window, Alessandra inched carefully along the wall. Im going to kill you if Eddie doesnt, she whispered to the absent McBride.
She saw something a split second before a hand snaked around her neck and covered her mouth.
Not a sound, sweet thing, a mans Southern-accented voice whispered in her ear. I need to know where that slippery badass I shot and I reckon you helped has gotten to.
She should have loaded Dr. Langs gun. That was Alessandras first and pretty much only thought. Instead, a greaseball with bad aftershave had his gun pressed into her neck and was dragging her around the porch.
Sorry to say, Im gonna have to do you, but not until the badass is as dead as my cheating ex-wife. He inclined his head again, and she heard the grin in his voice. I upped my rate when I heard McBride was the target. Come on now, you can tell old Eddie, how bads he shot up? One to ten. Use your fingers.
She held up two, ordered herself to move with him, to keep breathing, to think.
Is that all? He sounded pissed off, but only for a moment. Then the grin returned. Or could it be youre lying to buy time?
Although his breath smelled of beer, he didnt sound drunk. He continued to haul her sideways. Alessandra waited, counted.
Cmon, McBride, the hit man growled through his teeth. I got the girl. Play hero, and The rest came out as a shocked curse.
He hadnt noticed the single step down to his right. Off balance, he let her go as he stumbled, then slammed into the clapboard wall.
Alessandra didnt hesitate. She scrambled from the porch.
You come back here! Still off balance, Eddie fired. Unsure if shed been hit, Alessandra ran for the corner of the building.
She heard a thud. Two more shots whizzed past.
Get to my truck, McBride shouted.
Looking back, the only thing Alessandra saw was a blur of rain and motion.
Another bullet discharged. Eddie swore again in a wheeze, and got off two more shots.
A hand gripped her arm. Inside, McBride ordered. He shoved her through the drivers side door. Stay down.
She knelt on the floor in front of the passenger seat and tried to determine if either of them had been injured.
Once in the truck, McBride fishtailed out of the lot one-handed, his eyes on the rearview mirror. Man, hes packing four semiautomatics.
Was that some sort of twisted admiration in his voice?
How can you possibly She broke off when she glimpsed his shoulder. Youre bleeding.
I know. He got me in my bad arm when I tackled him. He swung the truck down a narrow road.
Bracing for the potholes, Alessandra stole a brief look out the back window before climbing up into her seat. You need to stop and let me restitch that wound.
Not until we put some miles between us and Eddie.
McBride, you cant ignore the laws of medicine forever. Lose enough blood, and you will die.
His eyes were still fixed more on the mirror rather than the road in front of them. Ill do that a lot faster if we dont lose him.
Twisting around, Alessandra risked another glance, saw nothing and stared at his profile. Who is that guy, and why does he want you dead?
Us dead, McBride corrected. And Im really sorry about that part.
So am I. However, since she knew he meant it, she breathed through her irritation. Talk to me, McBride. Who sent a hit man after you and why?
Long story short, I was dispatched to apprehend an escaped felon by the name of Rory Simms. Rorys sister is one of those crime lords the FBI would love to have under lock and tossed key, but unlike Rory, Caseys smart enough not to get caught standing over a corpse, holding a smoking gun. Thats murder one. Rorys in for twenty-five minimum. But big sister was afraid hed go a little crazy inside, say things he shouldnt about the family business, so she engineered an escape. Now Rorys on the run, Im on his ass and big sisters hit mans on mine.
And the no-cops, no-hospitals thing is just you not wanting to be removed from the case?
He regarded her shrewd face. Would you go with that if I said yes?
Not even if I was twelve years old and you looked like Captain Jack.
Which he kind of almost did, but that was absolutely not the point.
She looked again, did a double take. Were those headlights bouncing far in the distance? She turned around as the tires slammed through a series of ruts. Do you know where youre going?
McBride narrowly avoided a low tree branch. At this moment, no. Overall, yes. Rorys heading south. That means we are, too. The apologetic tone returned. I didnt plan for you to be involved in this, Alessandra, but you can identify Eddie, so you are. Id love to call in, get information, request backup, but I cant. The last time I didright before I got shotI let my boss and only my boss know where I was heading. And yet Eddie, whod been chasing me until that time, suddenly wound up ahead of me.
You think someone in your home office leaked the information to him?
To him or Casey.
Unless Rory called Casey or Eddie himself and told one or both of them where hed be.
Thatd be the logical explanation, McBride agreed. When he hitched his injured shoulder, she noticed the bloodstain was spreading. Problem is, I have a strong feeling Rorys not following Caseys orders. Which could be another reason Eddies been dispatchedto take little brother to a place where he and Casey can have a nice long chat.
And you know all this because?
He flashed her a quick smile. Thats classified information.
Meaning, you have a source within Caseys organization.
And you thought being a cops wife had no benefits. His smile widened slightly. My X source is a guy Ive known since I was a rookie and he was a street dealer. Caseys screwed him over a few times, so he came to me with a deal. Ive held up my end, now hes holding up his. X overheard part of Caseys conversation with Eddie. He knew the assignment to track Rory was mine. He called me.
Honest to God, McBride, I feel almost ridiculously cloak and dagger right now. Okay, youre convinced theres a leak in your office, but every police department in every state doesnt report to the Chicago division of the U.S. marshals. Hesitating, she slid him a sideways look. Do they?
They do if one of the deputy marshals goes down. Gunshot wounds have to be reported, Alessandra, by hospitals and police. That puts information on the computer, makes it accessible to anyone who cares to find it.
Specifically, a turncoat marshal.
For one. My gut tells me theres somebody on the take in the Chicago P.D., as well, probably in Homicide.
She kept a close eye on the spreading bloodstain. Youve got names in mind, havent you?
Although the smile that had been hovering on his lips grew a little, there was no humor in it. Yeah, Ive got names in mind. Doesnt do me any good here and now, but it will when Rorys back in prison and Im back in Chicago.
She searched the heavily treed road behind them for anything resembling a tail. This uncharacteristic optimism is a treat, McBride. If I hadnt just dodged flying bullets, Id actually applaud it. Something glimmered, and she looked more closely out the rear window. Those are definitely headlights.
McBrides gaze slid to the rearview mirror. They definitely are. He gave her unfastened seat belt a flick. Buckle up and hold tight, darlin. His eyes glittered with anticipation as he geared down. This rides gonna get wild.
Chapter Three
Surreal was the best description Alessandra could come up with for the next sixty minutes of her life. Somewhere between where theyd been and where they wound up, the rain stopped, the clouds broke apart and shafts of light began to filter through the trees.
By the time her mind slowed enough for her to register her surroundings, they were well into the mountains near what had probably once been a logging camp.
The moment McBride halted, she slid from the truck. Thick stands of pine and spruce towered over them. The fallen trees, now moss covered and decayed, were more likely the remnants of a windstorm than a timber mans ax. She let her head fall back and, finally, some of her tension ebbed.
Please tell me we lost that creep, because five more minutes of those ruts and my brain will be permanently scrambled. He didnt answer. Rubbing her backside, Alessandra turned. McBride was still in his seat with his head resting on the back. His eyes were closed. She climbed back into the cab to shake him. McBride. Are you conscious?
Enough to tell you theres only a fifty-fifty chance we lost him. He spoke but didnt open his eyes or move.
Thats better than your odds of surviving if you dont let me restitch that gunshot wound.
Nag, nag, nag.
Alessandra refused to be alarmed by his pallor. Leaning over, she opened his shirt. The bandage covering the gunshot wound was soaked through. Out of the truck, McBride.
A half smile grazed his lips. Forest floor works better for you, huh?
Straddling him, she caught his hair and pulled until his eyes finally cracked open. I see a lot of clouds in there, pal.
Yeah, but what are you feeling?
Part of her wanted to laugh. Only McBride would be thinking about sex under these conditions.
Apparently your sick mind hasnt changed since the last time I saw you. She pushed the door open. How can you be hard when youre bleeding to death?
His eyes closed, but the vague smile remained. From where Im sitting, best answer I can give you is, Duh.
Great. Im on the run with a crazy man. He was going to black out, she just knew it. She hopped off. Time to get down and dirty.
She supported him by his good arm as he tumbled from the cab. An old gray blanket from the back served as a cot. Once hed dropped onto it, Alessandra rolled up her sleeves and reached for the medi-pack.
No sign of Eddie? he asked in a slur.
No sign, no sound, no need. Partly because he deserved it, but mostly in an effort to startle him awake, she gave the rubber tubing in her hand a snap, smiled, then bent down until her lips grazed his ear. Let the bloodbath begin.
MCBRIDE SURFACED to shadows that were thick and air that was heavy with the prospect of yet another rainstorm. His limbs weighed fifty pounds apiece, and he swore someone was using a blunt ax on the back of his skull. Still, he managed to get his eyes open and make the connection between his brain and his vocal cords.
Where am I?
Alessandra didnt seem the least bit surprised by the sudden question. Youre propped up against a fallen tree in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and, by some miracle, still alive. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, she folded a bunch of strange-looking leaves into a cloth and tied a string around it.
Why dont I trust that serene expression on your face?
Relax. If I wanted you dead, youd have passed on before sunset. She gave the string a hard tug.
Alarm bells began to clang in his head. Whats that?
A medicinal poultice. We use them on horses after theyve been gelded. The glitter deepened. I say we, but I really mean I use them. Dr. Lang believes in the more traditional forms of pain management, his favorites being those that are introduced rectally.
Youre enjoying this, arent you?
Only for the past thirty seconds. Until then, I was calling you a bastard in every colorful way I could think of.
He used his good hand to push himself away from the trunk. Youre fatherd be pissed.
No, hed just straighten his shoulders, look stoically upward and blame my mother for influencing me. Then hed sag and blame himself for giving in to temptation once and marrying her. Im a sort of by-product of his lust. I dont think hes ever quite figured out where I fit into his straightforward, methodical world.
It was a tragedy, to McBrides mind, that Alessandras mother had died of an aortic aneurysm mere days after her only childs eleventh birthday. Sadder still was the fact that shed apparently really loved Alessandras father. Why else would any sane woman endure twelve years of marriage to a man who lived, worked and would ultimately die by an archaic set of rules that were more of his own making than those of the religious order to which he belonged?