“Yup. That’s the one.”
“Just watch your back,” Dylan cautioned. “I don’t care how idyllic it looks up there, you’re in more danger than a gold prospector defending himself against claim-jumpers back in ’49.”
Max had to smile. “I have Opal and a cell phone and radio, and I’m armed. I’m covered.”
“The dog will always work but don’t count on electronics if you get down in some of those deep valleys. Besides, the Duprees play rough.”
“I know. Thanks,” he said, ending the call and drawing his fingers down the ridge of the old scar remaining on his left cheek as he recalled the events originally surrounding that injury five years before. Max knew that nobody lived forever, but he simply could not accept the premature death of a child on his watch. Worse, he had unknowingly contributed to that disaster by trusting the boy’s father when the man vowed he’d cut all ties with the drug culture.
Clenching his jaw, he shoved aside the painful memory. If that senseless tragedy had taught him anything, it was to be far less gullible. No one had fooled him since, nor would they do so in the future. Criminal minds were devious in myriad ways. All he had to do was keep himself from accepting anything—or anybody—at face value without concrete proof of innocence.
Take the Garwoods, for example. The young woman he was on his way to see may have looked harmless but she was so unnaturally nervous he was having second thoughts about her. It was hard to attribute all that angst to a strained relationship with her father. Yes, the man was vindictive, but lots of people experienced difficult family situations without quaking in their boots. A more likely scenario was that Katerina knew about the bomb and had miscalculated the timing.
The worst kinds of criminals were the ones who were able to fake innocence so well. Katerina might have fooled the firefighter he’d spoken with but Max would not be as naive. He had not risen to a command position on his team by letting himself be tricked by pretty faces or sweet smiles.
He didn’t care if the whole world thought he was inflexible and opinionated. He did his job. And he never lost focus. Not anymore.
* * *
Katerina was exhausted. She’d been poked, prodded, x-rayed and scanned. All she wanted to do at the moment was sleep despite the nurses who kept coming into her room and waking her to check her vitals.
The door to the hospital room made a swooshing sound as it opened. She squeezed her eyes shut against the bright overhead lighting. “I’m awake. Please let me rest.”
The ceiling-mounted curtain was pulled to isolate her bed. Someone’s latex-covered hand clamped hard over her mouth and she tasted fresh blood from the cut on her lip. Tightening her muscles sent pulses of pain shooting through Katerina’s battered back. She tore at the glove and tried to see who was attacking her but a ski mask covered his features. A harshly whispered warning came next, “Stop fighting.” She tried. Panic argued against it. All she could manage was to hold a little more still after he planted a heavy arm across her chest.
“Don’t scream.”
Although she managed a weak nod she was not agreeing. This was a busy hospital. If she could manage to shout, even once, help was bound to arrive. Hopefully, it would be enough for a rescue.
The gloved hand eased its pressure. The arm lifted. Trembling, Katerina froze and stared at the figure hovering over her bed. He seemed tall, although it was hard to tell for sure when she was lying down. What she could see of his bare arms beyond the short sleeves of the faded green scrub outfit he wore told her he was tanned but not unusually so. If she’d been able to see his hands they would have given her a better idea of whether he worked inside or on a ranch or farm.
Should she speak at all? she wondered. If he was planning to kill her, surely he wouldn’t have awakened her first. But why bother her at all? Why was any of this happening? She gritted her teeth in frustration.
“Vern sent me,” the man gritted out.
Anger mingled with her fear. So that was it. “Why?”
He didn’t answer. She could see the rapid blinking of his eyes through the holes in the mask as he swiveled his head nervously. Finally, he reached for the IV needle taped to her arm and started to pull it out. “It’s too dangerous for me here. You and I are leaving.”
Katerina pushed his hand away, took a deep breath and screamed, “No. Help!” at the top of her lungs.
Her attacker jumped away as if he’d been shot with a Taser. At that moment she wished she had one to make it real.
He lunged to cover her mouth once more, but she evaded him by rolling to the side. “Help me!”
The physical pressure lifted. Katerina continued to shriek with primal fear, no longer articulate.
A hand touched her shoulder. Voices mingled.
When she turned her head there were two nurses at her bedside, one blond, one graying and motherly looking.
Katerina peered past them. “Where did he go?”
“Who, dear?”
“The man. He had a mask on and he—”
“You’ve been through a severe trauma,” the blond nurse interjected. “We can’t give you a stronger sedative just yet, because of your head injury, but the doctor said we could take the edge off your pain. You may be having a delayed reaction to what happened to you or to the IV meds. I’ll report it to him.”
“I am not hallucinating,” Katerina insisted hoarsely. “There was a strange man right here in this room. He threatened me.” She lost hope when she saw the nurses exchange knowing glances.
“All right. Just lie back and rest,” the motherly one said, patting Katerina’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be released soon. In the meantime, one of us will be close by. Use your call button if you need anything.”
“You’re not even going to look for the guy, are you?”
“As I said, we’ll report your symptoms to your physician, dear.”
Meaning, they still thought she’d been hallucinating or dreaming. Was it possible? No, she concluded. A trick of her brain would not have made her cracked lip bleed again. There had been a man’s hand pressed over her mouth. And he’d intended to take her away with him.
Vern was in jail. So who had accosted her?
* * *
Max knocked before entering Katerina’s room accompanied by a nurse. He’d expected to see her in bed but had not anticipated the reaction he got. She took one look at him, fisted her sheet and gathered it up under her chin like a shield. Her skin was pale, her mouth slightly swollen and her eyes reddened and puffy as if she’d been crying.
He hesitated, raw emotion churning through him. despite outward calm “The staff says you’ve been having a rough time, Ms. Garwood. Do you remember who I am?”
“FBI. You were there when the barn exploded.”
“Right. I looked after you until the ambulance arrived. How are you feeling?” he asked gently. “Are you up to finishing our conversation?”
As he watched, Katerina tried to raise herself into a sitting position and blanched. She looked ill beyond her injuries. Max beat the nurse to her bedside and steadied her. “Easy.”
With the weight of her shoulders resting on his arm, Katerina sighed. “Sorry. I forgot myself for a second. It’s been a rough day.”
Max stepped back as the nurse raised the head of her bed slightly, and then he asked, “Better now? Or do you need a few more minutes?”
“I’ll be fine as long as I don’t try to move too quickly.” She eyed the young nurse in the background. “Would it