A Time to Live (20 page)

Nikki stared at Michael in horror.
“What you felt tonight....”

Michael’s face turned ashen.

Nikki quickly hauled on some sweat pants and shirt. Michael pulled on his jeans. She hurried downstairs, switching on lights as she went. The pounding grew louder.

“All right!” Nikki shouted.
“I’m coming!”

She opened the door, the sheriff and Deputy Jeffries pushed inside, with the snow and wind.

Nikki slammed the door closed behind them.
“What is going on?”

The sheriff stopped, his hand falling on his gun, when he saw Michael standing on the stairs.
“Where were you tonight, Roumare?”

Michael, clenched his fists, muscles cording under his smooth skin.
His hair was wild about his face and his amber eyes smoldered gold fire. Nikki couldn’t help but remember the beautiful man she met on a lonely road not too long ago.

“Here,” Michael growled.
“All night.”

“That’s right, sheriff,” Nikki said, stepping forward.
“He was with me.”

The sheriff scowled and flipped open his notepad.
“I understand you and Denise had an altercation today.”

A muscle in Michael’s jaw twitched.
“I didn’t intentionally violate the restraining—”

“I’m not worried about the restraining order,” the sheriff barked, his face turning florid. “Denise didn’t come in for work this evening.”

Michael’s eyes widened.

“What time did you leave town?”

“I left the bar about one thirty and went straight to Doc’s. Nikki was there with Jan.”

Nikki nodded in agreement.

“And then you both came here?”

For a panicked instant, Nikki thought about stepping forward and lying, but before she could draw a breath, Michael answered and it was too late.
“No,” he said. “I left Nikki with Jan. Went to my place and picked up Cetan, then came here to fix the door and cook dinner for Nikki.”

The sheriff glanced at the door and seemed satisfied with the new wood on the frame.
“What time did you get home, Miss Matthews?”

“Jan dropped me off about seven thirty or so.
Michael was here and dinner was on the table.”

“And you’ve been here since then?”

“Yes,” Nikki snapped, rapidly losing patience. “Sheriff, this is insane. Denise could be out doing anything.”

“Did you have anything to drink, Roumare?”

“At the bar I had a couple of drinks with my sandwich.”

“Anything else after arriving here?”

“No,” Michael said flatly. “But the last I checked, it was still legal for me to drink.”

The sheriff glared at him.
“I just remember what happened to Denise the last time you drank. Then you had an incident today—”

“Good God, man, you just can’t let it go,” Michael roared, his body bowing with fury.
“The jury said not guilty.”

Nikki stepped forward.
“And no matter what happens, you’ll never be able to try Michael for Denise’s attack again - double jeopardy and all that.”

“Listen
, missy, I’ve got two murders and I’d love to pin him to the wall for them.” The sheriff’s radio crackled and he plucked it from his belt, striding away a few paces. Michael descended the rest of the stairs and Nikki stepped next to him, gripping his hand tightly.

“I think,” Michael whispered, “I know now what my instincts were trying to tell me tonight.”

A sickening ball of dread coiled in Nikki’s stomach. Her chest tightened and she forced herself to take a calming breath.

The sheriff finished talking on his radio and returned it to his belt.
He faced Michael and reached for his cuffs. “They just found Denise’s body, Roumare. You need to come down to the station with me.”

“No!” Nikki cried automatically stepping between Michael and the sheriff.
“He didn’t do anything.”

“Miss Matthews, step out of the way before I have to haul you in too.
Roumare’s not under arrest - not yet anyway.”

“But he
—”

“Nikki, please,” Michael whispered, gently gripping her shoulder.
“I’ve played this game before. It will be all right.”

She stared up at him, fighting sudden tears.

Michael gave her an encouraging smile
, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Lightly, he traced her cheek with a fingertip then stepped toward the sheriff. “If this is just for questioning, you won’t need the cuffs, sheriff.”

The sheriff snorted and grabbed Michael’s arm, wrenching it behind him.
In an instant, the cuffs snapped on and the sheriff searched his empty pockets. “Let’s go,” he growled, hauling Michael toward the door.

“Wait,” Nikki cried.
“At least let him put on a shirt and shoes. It’s freezing out there.”

“He’ll live,” the sheriff snapped and shoved Michael out the door.

Michael cast her a pleading glance. “Nikki, don’t stay here alone.”

Nikki straightened her spine.
“Don’t worry, Michael,” she called. “I’ll be right behind you.” Her gaze shot daggers at the sheriff. “With bail money in hand.”

Nikki pulled to a stop near the sheriff’s department and got out, locking her door.
She carried a shopping bag with Michael’s clothes and boots. As she walked past the corner of the building, toward the door, a shadow caught her eye and she froze.

“Miss Matthews,” a deep voice whispered.
The tall shadow stepped forward, and in the dim light from the street she instantly recognized Rory Sanders.

She gasped, and took a step back.
In the blink of an eye, his hand clamped over her mouth and he hauled her into the alley. Instinctively, she battled him. Her shoulder struck his chest and she felt something hard under his jacket. Oh God, he did carry a gun.

“Be quiet,” he growled.
“I won’t hurt you.” He turned her around, slamming her back against the wall.

Nikki, terror raging through her, stared up at him as she fought to catch a breath and keep from coughing.

“Listen to me,” Sanders snarled, his voice chillingly soft. “I warned you once to get out of here. He killed Denise and you are next. Leave, before he kills you too.”

“Michael didn’t do anything.”

“Roumare isn’t the one you should be worried about, but you already know that.” Sanders shoved her away, and vanished in the shadows of the alley.

Shaking, Nikki remained frozen for an instant then grabbed the shopping bag she had dropped.
She sprinted into the sheriff’s office and slammed the door behind her. Fumbling for her inhaler, a blast of medicine relaxed her lungs before the fit started.

Nikki looked around
, but the place was empty. Then the back door opened and Geena stepped through. “Oh it’s you,” Geena snapped. “The sheriff’s not done with him yet. Sit down.” She pointed to a chair in the corner.

Nikki briefly thought about telling Geena what happened
, but decided against it. Considering their bias against Michael, she doubted she could get any cooperation from them. She plopped in the chair and waited.

The room was freezing and Nikki sat for hours. Even huddling under Michael’s jacket didn’t help much.
Dawn arrived, but the gray clouds kept everything dark. Michael was in the interrogation room and she had not been allowed near him. She only hoped the room was warmer than this one. Her thoughts dwelled on her terrifying encounter with Sanders.

Roumare isn’t the one you should be worried about.
Did Sanders know who the killer was? Taylor or one of his goons? But if it was Taylor, why would Sanders bother to warn her? A body guard with a conscience? Nikki snorted to herself. Not likely.

Nikki rubbed her temples, trying to fight off a nagging headache.
She wondered how all of this managed to happen whenever Michael didn’t have much of an alibi - especially considering he accidentally ran into Denise earlier in the day. It was almost as if the killer was watching him just like the intruder....

Nikki’s heart hesitated and her eyes widened.
Of course! The murderer knew when Michael had an alibi and when he didn’t - and it would make sense that the intruder and the murder were the same person. She had met Michael her first day here, if the murderer was watching him, he would have seen her. So, who could keep such close tabs on Michael without raising suspicion?

The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, and Doc strode in, appearing haggard and worn.
Nikki bolted to her feet as he blinked at her in surprise. “Nikki, what are you...? Aw hell, they didn’t drag Michael down here again did they?”

“I’m afraid they did, Doc.
He’s still in the interrogation room.”

“I just finished my prelim on the body,” he said softly.
“It’s hard to tell the exact time of death because she was left in the snow, but I put it anywhere between eight and midnight.”

“I got home around seven thirty so that means Michael couldn’t have done it.
He had dinner waiting for me and had fixed the door.” Nikki frowned. “Wait a moment, Doc. Michael became very agitated around eleven.”

“Agitated?”

“His instincts, remember?”

Doc’s eyes widened and he nodded vigorously.
“I’m glad he told you about that, Nikki. If he became agitated around eleven, then that’s when Denise was killed.”

And you are next,
Sanders’s chilling voice echoed in memory. Nikki shivered, but said nothing.

“Nikki, are you all right?
You look a little gray.”

“I’m okay, Doc, just tired.”

He automatically reached out and felt her forehead. “It feels like you might have a touch of a fever. You need to come by the clinic so I can take a look at you and give you some antibiotics.”

“Don’t worry about me, Doc.
I’ll be fine.”

“Nikki, someone in your
—” Abruptly, he snapped his jaw shut.

“What?” she asked a coil of dread snaking through her.

“It’s this weather,” he said quickly. “Someone who is not used to it needs to be careful. Such an abrupt change in climate and altitude might weaken your immune system.”

“You mean someone who is from sunny southern California?”

“Exactly,” Doc replied with a smile. “Now, let me go talk to the sheriff and see if I can get him to let Michael go.”

Nikki sat again and rubbed her aching head.
Maybe Doc was right.

****

Michael sat in a chair, shivering so hard his teeth chattered. Still in handcuffs, he couldn’t even fold his arms over his chest. He’d be lucky if he didn’t catch pneumonia like this. The sheriff had questioned him a little more then left. Michael had been sitting, bored out of his skull, for hours. He worried about Nikki, but hoped she had followed immediately. He didn’t trust leaving her alone at the house even for a minute. Whoever killed Denise might come after Nikki, and Michael was sure the intruder was the murderer.

He heard voices on the other side of the mirror and stiffened, trying to listen.
A moment later the door opened and the sheriff with Doc entered.

“You are the luckiest bastard I ever met, Roumare,” the sheriff huffed and unlocked
his cuffs.

Michael immediately stood and blew on his numb fingers, then rubbed his arms, trying to get the blood circulating again.
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m innocent, sheriff?”

“Get out of here before I think of something else to arrest you for.”

Michael darted out the door with Doc only a step behind.

“Nikki’s waiting for you out front,” Doc said softly.
“Michael, remember what I said about infections?”

Michael hesitated.
“Yes.”

“She’s got a slight fever.
I want you to stop by the clinic so I can give her some antibiotics.”

“That’s going to be a trick.”

“Michael, I heard from my friend, Doctor Rashid, at USC, Harris has taken an unexpected leave of absence and no one can find Nikki’s file. Doctor Rashid has done some cancer research with Harris and he’s concerned over that list I sent him.”

“Is he familiar with the drugs?”

“Very. Michael, he helped engineer them and he said they aren’t even close to being tested on human’s yet. Extended use in mice caused the medicine to reach poisonous levels, they also cause scar tissue to form. Doctor Rashid wants blood samples from Nikki...immediately.”

“Should she stop taking them?”

“Rashid wasn’t sure, that’s why he needs her file and blood tests.”

Michael’s hand stopped on the doorknob to the waiting area.
“How do you propose we do that, knock her out?”

“Hey, she’s not my girlfriend, I’ll leave that up to you.”