Seems like it. Question was, why? And why had he stayed in Bear Claw? What were the Investor and the other remaining members of the militia looking for? And why was the head honcho suddenly taking out his own people? What was going on here?
It felt as if they were chasing their own tails like a bunch of bomb dogs with C-4 strapped to their butts. Shaking his head, Nick continued, Anyway, looks like the lady who rents the place is a dead end. She dealt with Dennison on the phone, never met him in person, didnt care what he was doing in town as long as he paid in full. He paused. Are the CSIs still up there?
Doanes shook his head. I think theyre done. I saw Gigi leaving a little while ago.
Thanks. Nick waved him off. Catch you later.
It shouldnt have mattered to him whether or not the analysts had finished up their preliminary run, just like it shouldnt have mattered that Jenn had been assigned to the scene. They had crossed paths plenty since the breakup, and had kept it friendly and polite. There shouldnt be any problem there. Hell, there wasnt any problem there.
Still, he breathed a little easier as he headed up the next flight of stairs, knowing hed have the quiet solitude he needed to put himself into the head of Chuckie Dennisona victim who had also been a killer in his own right. Nick wouldnt ever know the dead man personally, but for a few minutesor longer, if necessaryhe would do his damnedest to become him, standing in his space, seeing the things hed thought were important, the things he hadnt.
Dennison had been a fugitive from both the law and his former bossbut hed stayed in the city. What was keeping him here? And then the torture. What had the Investor wanted from his former lieutenant? Information, obviously, but what kind? What was the endgame here?
Nick probably wouldnt get the answers today, of course, but he would absorb everything he could of Dennisons space, his life, his death. And maybeif he was damn luckyget a flash of the kind that sometimes hit him, the sort of lightbulb gotcha that sent him in a new direction, or back down an old one, until he hit pay dirt. All because hed stood there for ten minutes or an hour, absorbing every detail of a strangers life and trying to figure out what made him tick.
The members of his sprawling, affectionate and high-drama family called it method acting and were as proud of his skills as they were baffled by his choices. His bosses were just glad he could do it, and used him as often as they could. And he was okay with that. More than okay with it. He came, he saw, he blended, he helped catch the bad guy and then he moved on again. That was his life, his skill set, and if it meant hed put some other things on hold, better that than repeating past mistakes.
Now, as he pushed through the door to the fifth floor, he did his damnedest to put himself into the mind of a former member of the Ghost Militia, an ex-con whod done a stint for aggravated assault and attempted murder, and who had been on the run, aware that the Investor was tracking down his former lieutenants and tearing them open to see what secrets he could find.
The hallway was identical to those on the other floors, with white walls, a red carpet that was starting to go threadbare pink along the traffic pattern and numbered doors leading off on either side. The one difference was that the door on the far end was marked as a crime scene.
Already deep in Dennisons headIm here, nobody followed me, gotta check the apartment first before I can relax, make sure I havent been made yetNick headed up the hall, senses attuned for the slightest warning of danger to his fugitive self.
Thud. The noise from behind the far door brought him up short and set off all sorts of warning bellssomeone was in the apartment!
Where Dennison wouldve done a one-eighty and taken off, though, Nick powered straight ahead with his weapon appearing in his hand without him consciously reaching for it. It was probably one of the cops, he knew, but he wasnt taking any chances. Especially not when the others were supposed to be canvassing.
He went quiet as he got close to the door, moving almost silently on his lug-soled boots and letting out a breath as there was another thudda-thudda-thud, then a scuffle.
Instincts on overdrive, he twisted the knob, booted open the door and flattened himself against the outside wall for a second. When there was no response, he went in low, leading with his gun. Freeze! Police!
In the next moment, two impressions seared his retinas and competed for priority in his head: Jenn lay on the floor, motionless beside a battered chair, near a dark pool of blood he hoped to hell wasnt hers. And heavy footsteps coming from the back room said she wasnt alone.
Jenn! The word shouted in his head but didnt leave his lips. He reached her in two strides, went down on his knees before he knew it, and then had his hands on her for the first time in a month. Her pulse was fast, her breathing shallow, her eyes were closed, the side of her face already reddened and starting to swell. He didnt see any fresh blood, and the spatter nearby was old and set, but that didnt change the basic fact: someone had gone after her. And that someone was getting away.
He lunged to his feet, bellowing, Stop! Police!
Not that the guy stoppedthey never did, and this one was already out the window. Nick knew it even as he cleared the door into the bedroom and heard the traffic, then the feet pounding down the fire escape. Damn it!
He stuck his head out, and just barely saw the guy from the back as he bolted around the corner onto the main road. But that was enough to relay the bad newsthe guy had a pair of plastic boxes under one arm. Hed taken the evidence kits.
Cursing viciously, Nick holstered his weapon, went for his phone and called it in. But even with white guy, six-something, dark pants and a suit jacket, carrying a couple of evidence kits as a description, he didnt hold out much hope.
Given the head start, though, there was no point in Nick giving chase. Especially not when there was a vic who need medical attention.
Not a vic. Jenn. He had to think of her that way, though. It was the only way he could keep himself steady as he returned to Dennisons living room, went down beside her once more. He didnt move her, didnt dare do anything more than take her hand in his.
She was still unconscious, which wasnt good. And her left eye was nearly swollen shut, red and puffy. Shed taken a hell of a hit. Maybe more than one.
Anger was a sharp, ugly beast inside him, hammering against his ribs and snarling to be let free. He kept his control, thoughthat was what made him one of the best at what he did. But he sure as hell didnt feel like one of the best as he leaned over her. He felt damned helpless, and that was a new feeling.
Theres an ambulance on the way, he said, forcing his voice level. Theyll take care of you, get you back on your feet.
She would hate this, he knew. She would hate knowing that shed been out of it, that shed been the focus of an officer down call, taking attention away from the manhunt that even now was forming up down below. And most of all, she would hate knowing hed been the one to wait with her.
Despite her professionalism, he knew the sharp edges were there, knew she couldnt possibly be as cool toward him as she came across. There had to be some heat beneath that mask, some anger over the way hed ended things so abruptly when thered been the potential for them to keep seeing each other, keep going with the crazy heat theyd made together.
Or maybe that was just him. Maybe she really was that cool, and he was the only one who still took a second some mornings to realize that she wasnt beside him, wouldnt ever be there again. Come on, come on, he muttered, reaching for his phone. Where the hell
Boot steps thudded in the hallway and Tucker straight-armed the door, face thunderous. What the hell happened? He missed a step at the sight of Jenn, down and out of it. He grabbed his radio and snapped, Where the hell is that ambulance?
Three minutes out, came the muffled response from Dispatch.
Get it here in one. Keeping the radio clutched, Tucker rounded on Nick. Tell me. He sounded almost as mad as Nick felt. Almost.
I came in as the dipwad was going out the window, Nick growled, and gave him a quick summary, along with his too-vague description of Jenns attacker.
Tucker shook his head grimly. This is bad.
It gets worse. He got the evidence cases.
He The detective broke into a string of curses, then headed for the hallway, already barking into his radio. Anything on the guy Lang saw? Business suit, two plastic cases. Anything?
His voice faded as he stalked down the hallway, giving orders and making threats that anyone whod known him for more than five seconds knew was more a sign of how worried he was than anything. Tucker was no pushover, but he was a fair leader, and he cared deeply about all of his people. More, the crime scene analysts had a special place in his heart, given that his wife, the mother of his daughter, was one of them.
Nick didnt know what it meant to feel like that, to love like that. But he knew he was on the verge of losing it over Jenn.
In the distance, a siren throbbed faintly. Finally!
Tightening his fingers on hers, he leaned in. Theyre almost here. Any minute now.
Her lashes fluttered.
Jenn! His muted shout sounded very loud in the roomin the freaking murder scene, the one hed been coming to re-create in his mind, only to wind up coming way too close to reenacting it in an entirely more gruesome fashion. There was nothing of Dennison in him now as he brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead. Thats it, he said, though she hadnt moved again. Come on, baby. You can do it.
The baby just slipped out. But even as it resonated too deeply inside him, her fingers moved against his, her eyelids fluttered again and she inhaled a deep breatha real one this time, not one of the shallow, shocky sips shed been taking ever since his arrival.
And then, finally, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
* * *
W ARMTH RUSHED THROUGH Jenn at the sight of Nicks face so close to hers, and the knowledge that hed been watching her sleep, and that whatever hed been thinking, it had put deep, intense emotions in his eyes, making him look so fierce he was almost frightening.
Almost.
Nick, she said softly, reaching for him. What
She gasped when the move sent a slash of pain through her head, followed by a roll of nausea.
Stay still. He gripped her hand. You were attacked, knocked out. The paramedics are on their way up.
Paraoh. She closed her eyes as her brain caught back up with her, and the scenery she had glimpsed behind Nicks head connected to her recent realityor at least as much as it could when that reality was a jumble.
She was at a crime scene; there had been another torture-murder. She knew that much, though only as words, like Dispatch was reporting directly inside her head. In terms of really seeing things, really having the memories, the last thing she remembered wasow! She moved to grab her head, then groaned when the motion made things worse. Grayness washed her vision and things went swimmy around her.
Jenn! Nick said urgently. Come on, stay with me.
You didnt want me to She had enough presence of mind to shut that off, clamping her lips together while she rode out a surge of nausea. Her mind raced, bringing more stabs of pain in her head and behind her eyeballs, but memories started coming back, too.
She remembered walking up the stairs to the fifth floor, coming in to find Gigi already working.
Gigi! Her eyes flew open and she tried to shove up off the floor, fighting through the pain and the too-bright glare of the winter sunlight and apartment fluorescents. Wheres Gigi? She was here!
Chill! Nick gripped her shoulders, holding her down. Its okay. Youre okay. Shes okay. She left on another call. You were here alone. He paused. You dont remember her leaving?
I The fear had leveled off when she learned that Gigi was okay, but now it came back full force, roaring through her, sweeping through a jumble of memories. She remembered Gigi photographing the scene, the two of them talking about Nick. And after that
What happened after that?
Okay. Its okay. Dont stress about it. Just relax. But there was something in his eyes that she didnt likeit was too much like the looks she had gotten back in her old life, after Terry died and things started coming to light. It said, Theres more, and its bad.
What is it? she demanded, grabbing on to his wrists and digging in, her heart suddenly pounding even harder. What arent you telling me?
He hesitated, then said, The bastard got your evidence kits.
No! Horror lashed through her. Shame. Guilt. The cases held everything from the scene. If it was all gone She surged against him. Let me up! I need to
You need to stay the hell down! he said fiercely, leaning in so their faces were very close and she could feel the heat of his body, his grip. But then a sudden clamor erupted at the door and two paramedics came in, puffing from the climb. At the interruption, Nicks expression flattened and he straightened away from her. You need to let these guys have a look at you.
She tried to wave them off. Im fine. Which wouldve sounded more convincing if her voice hadnt broken. But she wasnt fine. She was down and hurting. And, worse, she had lost crucial evidence in the Death Stare caseotherwise, why else would the killer come back for it?
The killer, she thought, and closed her eyes as it started to penetrate. Shed been attacked, knocked out. Logic said that was whatd happened, but when she tried to remember, all she could picture was her and Gigi gossiping about Nick. Who was here, hovering over her with a gruff protectiveness hed never shown while they were together, probably because she had been careful to never let him see her be anything but breezy and self-reliant. Now, she was anything but. She wanted to cling, wanted to cry. She had been attacked, knocked out, robbed.
Why couldnt she remember any of it?
The paramedics dumped their gear and moved in, asking questions and starting to tug at her clothes.
She tried to fend them off. I dont
Just let them have a look at you, Nick said. You were unconscious for a good five minutes, and theres blood. She wouldve kept arguing, wouldve kept trying to brush them off when they tried to look in her eyes and feel the growing lump on her skull. But then he leaned in closer and said, Please.
She stilled, caught in his eyes and the low-voiced request. Had he ever asked her for anything before? She didnt think so, and the impact was palpable. He was still holding her hand, she realized. He followed her eyes to where their fingers were twined together, but he didnt pull away. Instead, he tightened his grip.