A Killer Among Us Page 8

  The man answered on the second ring. “What ya need, Noah?”

  “We’re up on the roof where we think the shooter knelt down to wait on Kit and me to leave the building. Wanna come take a look?”

  “Be right there.”

  Noah hung up and told Connor. “I’m going to get to the hospital to check on Kit. You got this covered?”

  “Yeah, let me know how she’s doing as soon as you can, will you?”

  “Sure thing.” Noah made his way back down to street level and over to a car that had been delivered as a replacement for the one that had been shot to pieces. As he climbed in and cranked the vehicle, he wondered at the unrest in his heart. The agitation he felt when he thought about Kit and the danger she’d been in. Not willing to dwell on it, he made the ten-minute ride to the hospital, telling himself to think about something else.

  Because if he continued to think about Kit, he’d have to admit his attraction to her.

  And that just wasn’t happening.

  Yet.

  10

  Kit shifted on the hospital bed and winced at the stinging throb in her arm. She’d refused all narcotic painkillers and was paying the price.

  Jamie handed her a cup of ice water and said, “Take a pill, Kit, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  Resisting the urge to grind her molars, Kit said, “Well, I’m not staying here much longer. As soon as the doctor comes back and pronounces that I’m not at death’s door, I’m outta here.”

  Samantha chuckled from her spot on the window seat. “You should have been my twin. You sound just like me.”

  Kit’s lips curved before she could stop them. “Aw, you guys. You didn’t have to rush right over here.”

  Jamie let out an indignant snort. “You were hurt. Of course we did.”

  “Where’s Andy?” If she got Sam talking about her son, Kit would be able to fade into the background when it came to topics of conversation.

  Immediately Samantha’s eyes lit up. “Our next-door neighbor is retired and just adores Andy. Anytime I need a break or an emergency set of hands, she’s always willing.”

  “You’re so fortunate.”

  “You bet I am. Mom and Dad would be here too, if they hadn’t taken a spur of the moment trip to the mountains this week. They’re ready for cooler weather.”

  Kit grimaced. “Aren’t we all?”

  Before either sister could make a comment, a knock sounded on the door. Praying it was the doctor arriving to spring her, Kit called out, “Come in.”

  When Noah’s reddish-blond head appeared around the door, her heart started pounding. What was he doing here?

  Then he smiled and her stomach flipped. Wow. Where did that come from?

  “Hey there, partner, glad to see you awake.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “How’s the arm?”

  “Just grazed by a bullet. It’s fine and I’m ready to get back to work.”

  Sam snorted. “When the doctor releases her, she needs to go home and rest.”

  “Not a chance,” Kit shot back. “I’ve got cases to solve. Especially two murders.” She looked at Noah. “What did you find out about the shooting? You catch the guy?”

  “No. He was on top of the law school mock courthouse, though. He had a real nice view of us as we left the classroom building.”

  She frowned. “So he was waiting on us?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “But why? And how did he know we were going to be there?”

  Noah sighed and Kit watched Samantha and Jamie bounce their attention back and forth between her and the man still standing in the doorway.

  “As near as we can figure it, there are two options. The first: he followed us from the crime scene.”

  She grimaced. “I don’t like the sound of that and what all that entails.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  “And the second?”

  “He was already here looking to take out another kid, saw us, figured we were investigating, and decided to shoot one of us instead.”

  “I don’t like that one either.”

  “Right. You have any other thoughts?”

  Kit wrinkled her nose. Did she? “Not really. Everything you said makes sense, unfortunately.”

  A short rap sounded on the open door and they all turned as one to see the doctor standing behind Noah. Noah moved aside to let the man in.

  Kit smiled and did her best to look as perky as possible. When she shifted on the bed, she kept her grimace under wraps. “So, you ready to let me out of here?”

  “With instructions to go home and rest.”

  “Sure.” Agreeable innocence all the way. She ignored Sam’s snort of disbelief and Jamie’s giggle. Noah just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  The doctor took it all in, then eyed her, one side of his mouth lifting. “Right, I can see you’re going to do exactly as ordered.”

  She couldn’t lie. “Well, maybe not exactly as ordered, but I do promise to take it a little easier than normal.”

  He sighed and nodded. “Fine. You’re not the first cop to cross my medical path.”

  “Any limitations on her job duties?” This from Noah.

  Kit glared at him with a how-is-this-your-business look. He met her stare for stare. She finally looked away as she silently conceded he had a right to be concerned. She’d been hurt. If they got into a situation where she didn’t have his back, he could be killed.

  The doc shrugged. “Not really. She can do what she feels like doing.” He looked at Kit. “The bullet just grazed you, really. There was a bit of blood loss, but you’ve recovered nicely in the few hours you’ve been here. By tomorrow you should be good to go.”

  “Why did she pass out?”

  “Noah . . .”

  “Come on, Kit, you can’t go back to work if you’re not really ready.”

  She snapped her mouth shut and looked at the doctor. He said, “Probably from a combination of shock and pain—and maybe some sleepless nights?” A pointed look.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled at his direct, questioning stare.

  “I would recommend staying here tonight. Tomorrow, you can do whatever. I promise I’ll let you go without argument—as long as you don’t develop any complications overnight.”

  Kit groaned and Noah nodded. Sam and Jamie stared her down, arms crossed, expressions stern. The sudden swell of tears took her by surprise. The cocoon of their caring and concern surrounded her, and the fight went out of her.

  Closing her eyes to hide her rocky emotions, she leaned her head back and said, “Okay.”

  A soft hand covered hers and she felt stable enough to look up. Jamie stood there, a small smile dimpling her cheek. It was like looking into a mirror. An exact replica of herself. She still wasn’t used to it. “Rest, Kit.”

  “Right.”

  Noah patted her shoulder and the innocent touch made her tingle to her toes. “Connor’s going with me to the Marlowe house. We want to see if we can pick him up for questioning.”

  She felt her lower lip push out and wanted to whine, “But I want to go.” Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded like the adult she was. “Okay, I guess I’m in no shape to do anything today.” The aggravating throb in her arm pulsed in agreement. “Just keep me updated, will you?”

  “You bet.”

  Noah left, and Kit felt two pairs of eyes boring holes into her. She lifted a brow. “What?”

  Jamie flushed and Samantha shrugged. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

  Kit set her jaw. “It’s my case and I . . .” Why was she being so stubborn? “I don’t really know. I just feel like I need to be the one . . .” She trailed off once more, looked away from her sisters’ prying gazes, and stared out the window.

  Why was she so antsy? So ready to push herself when she silently admitted her arm was killing her? Why wouldn’t she just take the little pill and drift off into oblivion?

  Because she was embarrasse
d? A little. But she’d had no more control over that bullet than she had Brian pulling that trigger at the hostage situation. But that wasn’t all, she slowly realized.

  It was also because, for the first time in her law enforcement career, she felt like she had to prove to her partner that she was good enough simply because of Noah’s initial reaction to having a woman for a partner. The answer came out of nowhere, startling her so much, she physically jerked.

  “Kit? Are you all right?”

  Samantha had walked to the edge of the bed while Kit wandered around in her heavy thoughts. “I’m fine. A little tired.” She didn’t have to fake the yawn that took her by surprise.

  “All right.” Samantha leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Get some rest and we’ll check on you later.”

  Her sisters left and Kit sat alone in the sudden quiet of her room. She looked at the bedside phone. She really should call her mother. Her adoptive mom. But what would Kit say to her? Their last conversation had ended in recriminations and tears.

  Was she up to that?

  No.

  She pressed the button to call the nurse.

  A little pill sounded pretty good right now. But after a few hours of sleep and escape from the pain, she’d hit the ground running.

  This was her case. She would work it and solve it. No one was going to take that away from her. Not her good-looking partner and definitely not some trigger-happy killer.

  Crumbling the third note he’d written into a tight wad, the Judge tossed it on the floor, muttering. “Get it right, idiot. Got to get it right. It’s got to be perfect.” It had to be. He had to make sure everything fell into place just as it was supposed to do. His son—the one he would someday have—would expect that of his father. He would look up to him and believe him to be a god. The Judge almost smiled at the thought.

  Then he frowned. He’d gotten careless. He shouldn’t have taken the shot when he did. As a result, he missed. He ground his teeth and berated himself. It was the rifle’s fault, he decided. He would have to work with the sights. The old gun hadn’t been fired in years. Not since his father, a sniper, had used it in the service. Yeah, that was it. The stupid rifle. It wasn’t his fault after all. He’d fix the rifle and try again.

  But for now, he needed to focus. He still had to finish his current mission.

  Get rid of those who’d mocked him.

  The Judge placed the pen to paper once more and scribbled his thoughts. When he was finished, he sang aloud, “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, let’s see how loud you scream.” He gave a little chuckle at his wittiness, then frowned as the rage built. “Laugh at me, will you? I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you all.”

  He slammed a fist onto the desk.

  “Hey man, you okay?”

  The Judge jumped and turned, slid his palm over the paper. “Oh, sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Obviously.” A backpack hit the chair next to the television. “Have you taken up talking to yourself now?”

  The Judge forced a chuckle. “Just rehearsing.”

  “I thought you’d already given the big performance.”

  “No, that one was minor compared to this one.” He pictured the moment the bullet would enter his next victim. Right after she begged for mercy and told him how superior he was.

  The other man cocked his head, studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever, man. I’m taking Allison out tonight. Catch up to you later.”

  “Right. Later.”

  His roommate was a likable guy. One who didn’t question the Judge or his odd ways. He kept to himself, respected the Judge’s privacy, and never, ever, mocked him.

  Fortunately for him.

  Once he had the place to himself again, he walked down the hall to his bedroom and reached under the bed to slide the cardboard box toward him. Picking it up, he set it on the bed.

  Opening the lid with his left hand, he pulled the newspaper clipping from his back pocket and placed it on the right side of the box, the edge snug up against the ninety-degree angle. On top of that, he set the watch he’d taken from Walter. The watch Walter had tapped while rolling his eyes.

  Should have plucked his other eye out too.

  Then he chuckled. Oh yeah. He shot the other one out. No plucking required.

  Then he pulled the school schedule from the left side of the box.

  And smiled.

  He flicked the paper and said, “You’re next.”

  11

  The next morning, Kit’s release from the hospital went surprisingly fast, and before she knew it, she was on her way home, Jamie at the wheel.

  Not the direction she wanted to go.

  Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it. “Hello?”

  “Hey Kit, how are you doing this morning?”

  “Peachy.”

  His chuckle warmed her. “Connor and I went by the Marlowe house last night to find Justin. No luck. The kid was gone and hadn’t come home yet, according to the officer assigned to watch the house.”

  “Rats.”

  “Yeah. We didn’t knock on the door. We decided we wanted the surprise factor on our side.”

  “So you’re not calling ahead, huh?”

  “Nope, if the kid is guilty, we don’t want Daddy shipping him off to some overseas friends, if you get my meaning.”

  “I get it.”

  “We’re waiting on the call from the officer watching the house. As soon as the kid shows, we’ll grab him.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

  Her arm did feel much better this morning, and while she’d skipped the narcotic offered, she’d popped a couple of ibuprofen. It helped. Some. It was a good thing she’d qualified to use her weapon with either hand. Otherwise, she knew she’d be benched until her right arm healed.

  “I’m fine. I promise.” She paused, then said softly, “I may take a few risks sometimes, but I would never take one that put your life on the line. You have my solemn word on that.”

  For a moment silence was her only answer. Then, “All right. I wasn’t worried about that, but thanks for saying it. Tell your chauffeur to drop you off at the station. I’ll give you a lift home after we’re done with Justin. Surely, he’ll show up today.”

  “Great.” Her adrenalin surged, almost knocking out the rest of the pain. She stuck her phone in the back pocket of the jeans Jamie had brought to the hospital this morning. Kit turned to her sister. “Drop me off at the station, will you?”

  Jamie glanced at her. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Jamie sighed and said, “You really are a Cash. Same stubborn genes.”

  Kit winced inside but pasted a smile on her face. “Yep.” It wasn’t that she minded the reminder of her adoption or the fact that she didn’t grow up in the Cash household, and yet . . . she did.

  Guilt pressed in on her. She’d had a wonderful family. A loving dad who’d taken her fishing and taught her how to ride her bike, shoot her first gun, and gave her permission to belt any boy who took unwanted liberties. A pang of grief overshadowed the guilt.

  Eleven months ago, he’d taken his last breath right after he confessed they’d kept her adoption a secret. Kit’s birth father, he explained, had an addiction to pain pills. One afternoon he’d left several on the table. Samantha, arriving home from school in tears, followed her father’s example and swallowed a handful of pills to dull the pain of her bad day.

  After making sure Samantha would be all right, her father packed a bag and walked out, never knowing he left behind a wife pregnant with twins.

  Kit closed her eyes, remembering the look on her birth mother’s face as she told the story. The grief that twisted her features when she’d talked about finding out she was expecting twins. She’d been terrified. One baby was burden enough. But two? She couldn’t imagine it. She called her best friend, who lived in Raleigh, a
nd asked—would she take one of the babies?

  Kit’s adoptive mother agreed and Kit had grown up apart from her birth family, never knowing she had the siblings she’d craved through her entire childhood.

  Anger twisted through her. Why had she been the one taken? Why not Jamie? How different would their lives have been if Jamie had been the one raised by the Kenyons and not Kit?

  And why did it bother her so much? Cause her sleepless nights and tortured dreams? She’d had a great childhood, for the most part. And yet it didn’t seem to matter. She remembered being lonely sometimes, desperately wishing for a sibling to play with on those rainy days when she was stuck inside with nothing to do.

  And then there was her adoptive mother. Her sweet, hovering, overprotective mother.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Startled, Kit jumped. “Huh?”

  “I can hear your teeth grinding together all the way over here.” Jamie quirked a small smile and Kit returned it. Weakly.

  “Just . . . thinking.”

  “About?”

  Did she want to say anything? How would Jamie feel if Kit told her the whole story? Glancing at her twin, she opened her mouth to find out, when her cell phone vibrated. Snatching it back out of her pocket, she saw that it was Noah. “Hello?”

  “How far away are you?”

  “About a minute and a half.”

  “I’ll meet you at the car. We’ve got eyes on Justin Marlowe. He just pulled into the driveway and entered the house.”

  “Be there in a sec.”

  Kit clicked the phone off and looked at Jamie. Her sister. A young woman who’d suffered indescribable pain and terror at the hands of a deranged stalker—and come out a stronger person than Kit could ever hope to be.

  And yet, she too had survived an ordeal that had caused her nightmares for years. A childhood ordeal she rarely discussed yet relived each time she walked into a hostage situation. Shuddering, she breathed a sigh of relief when the station came into view.

  Not waiting for the car to stop, she opened the door and hopped out with only a bit of jaw-clenching pain running up her arm. Ignoring it, she waved goodbye to Jamie and headed for Noah, who was just climbing into the unmarked car.