Deadly Force (15 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Sam hung up, gave Cruz a ten-second explanation and was out of the building in less than a minute. He jumped in his car, put a Mars light on the roof and sped toward the hospital. He’d been a beat cop before he’d made detective. He’d worked hundreds of accident scenes, many involving pedestrians. They were never pretty. Claire could be in bad shape.

Maybe even
dying.

He started to shake. He left the car in a no-parking zone and ran into the emergency room. He flashed his badge at the clerk behind the bulletproof glass and motioned for her to buzz him past the locked doors.

Once inside the main emergency area, he ran up to the circular nurses’ station and held his badge up again. “Claire Fontaine. Brought in by ambulance. Where is she?”

The nurse checked her computer screen and pointed toward the left. “Room 103. Third down that hallway.”

The door was shut.

He paused, his hand raised to knock.

The truth hit him. It didn’t matter the extent of her injuries or how scarred she might be. The only thing that mattered was that she was alive.

He wanted her. No matter what. Together they would bear the burden of this
day.

He knocked and when the door opened, all he saw was the back of two caregivers bending over Claire, who was lying in a bed. Her clothes were on the floor and they were splattered with blood.

“Claire,” he croaked, his throat tight with worry.

Both care providers turned, moving just enough that he could see Claire’s face. Her eyes were open.

“How did you get back here?”
the doctor said, his tone suggesting that somebody would pay. Wayne Francis, M.D., was stitched across the pocket of his lab coat.

Sam opened his clenched fist and showed his badge for the third time in less than a minute.

“Your questions are going to have to wait, Detective,” the doctor said.

Sam ignored the man. He moved into the room, around the doctor and reached for Claire’s
hand. He held it gently. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry you’re hurt.”

“I’m okay,” Claire said. “Really.”

Sam looked first at the doctor, who had stopped frowning, then at the young nurse in pink scrubs who was smiling. He took that as a good sign and the pressure in his chest started to ease. “How is she?”

The doctor folded his arms across his chest. “I’m getting the impression that this
isn’t an official visit.”

Sam shook his head. It was personal. Real personal. “Claire is my fiancée.”

The doctor looked at Claire. “Ms. Fontaine, do I have your permission to discuss your medical condition with this man?”

She nodded.

“Claire is a lucky young woman. She was struck by a midsized sedan and the extent of her injuries appear to be a bloody nose, a sore shoulder
and assorted bumps and bruises. Quite frankly, I’m amazed. But as I understand it from the first responder on the scene, she had the common sense to jump before impact, which gave her the momentum she needed to roll up and over the hood of the car.”

Claire shrugged and then winced when it apparently bothered her injured shoulder. “I wasn’t just the starting pitcher for the Minooka Timberwolves.
I ran track, too. Broad jump and pole vaulting. I think both came in handy today.”

Sam started to laugh. If anyone had told him fifteen minutes ago that he’d find anything remotely funny about the situation, he’d have set them straight quick. But the look on Claire’s face was priceless.

He hated to take it away but he needed facts. “Honey, what happened?”

“I was pushed into traffic.”

She said it rather matter-of-fact. Sam’s vision started to blur.

“By accident?” he asked, knowing the location was a busy street corner.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t lose my footing because someone brushed up against me. I tumbled into oncoming traffic because someone pushed me—hard.”

Her eyes were bleak. Sam understood. Some of the other things that had happened,
she had been able to dismiss as just bad luck or happenstance. This had been a deliberate attempt to hurt her. That knowledge would chill anyone’s soul.

“Where was Hannah?” he asked.

“We’d just separated. I know that was stupid. I’m sorry. It was just such a nice day that I didn’t think anything bad could happen.”

She looked miserable. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “You didn’t
see the person?”

She shook her head. “Street cameras?” she asked.

He nodded. It was just what he’d been thinking. Not only might the camera that covered that intersection have caught something, but she had also been just on the edge of the commercial area. There were still a few businesses and if they were lucky, a couple of them would have had cameras aimed at their entrances. They
might be able to piece together where Claire’s attacker had come from or escaped to. Maybe even get a vehicle tag.

“Can she go?” Sam asked.

The doctor shook his head. “I’m pretty sure all we’re dealing with is a sprained shoulder, but I want her to have an MRI just in case. After that, she’s free to go.”

“I’m going to make some calls while you do that and then I’ll take you home,”
Sam said.

“Okay.” She looked really defeated.

“What’s wrong?”

Claire pointed at her things across the room, sitting in a chair. He saw her purse, a shoe box and a cream-colored shopping bag that had tire tracks across it. There were tears in the bag and he could see pieces of material sticking out.

“I must have let go of the bag,” Claire said. “The car ran over it. I guess
I should be grateful. My face could look like that.”

Sam swallowed hard. “But it doesn’t. And I don’t want you thinking about it.”

“The paramedic thought I was a crazy person. I wouldn’t get in the ambulance until he gave me the bag. I thought maybe it might just be dirty, but there are rips that can’t be fixed.” She waved a hand. “It’s stupid to be upset about a dress. I’m not going
to even think about it.”

The doctor stepped forward. “Tammy will take you down for your MRI. Your ride,” he said, motioning to a wheelchair in the corner of the room.

She sat up, pulled her thin hospital gown tighter and gracefully transferred over to the wheelchair. Tammy pulled a large plastic bag out of a drawer and gathered up Claire’s dirty clothes and shoes. Then she added Claire’s
purse and the new shoes. She held up the bag with the ruined dress and Claire shook her head. The nurse smiled in return and placed it on the chair.

Claire looked over her shoulder. “Don’t wait, Sam. I promise I’ll take a cab home after this.”

He shook his head. “I’ll wait.”

After they left the room, the doctor turned toward him. “The aide can pitch that?” he said, motioning to
the bag.

Sam shook his head. “I need it.”

“Evidence?” the doctor asked.

Sam folded the bag under one arm. “She wants this dress. I’m going to make sure she gets it. I’m going shopping.”

The doctor laughed and ran a hand through his gray hair. “Good luck, Detective. You know, they don’t teach humility in med school. That said, I have to say, you’re a better man than I.”

* * *

S
AM
MADE
HIS
TELEPHONE
calls first and got a start on getting a copy of the police report. Then he drove to the dress store. He carried the bag in and carefully pulled the dress out.

The salesclerk, a woman on the downhill side of fifty, reached out and touched the ruined material. “What happened?”

“Long story,” Sam said. “I need one just like it.”

She looked at the tag.
“I’m afraid I just sold our last one a couple hours ago to an absolutely lovely young woman. She had the prettiest brown eyes.”

“This is her dress.”

“Oh, I am sorry. She was so pretty in it.” She paused. “And she didn’t need any alterations, which was a blessing because she said she needed it for tomorrow night.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, it is possible that we might have it in
another store, but there’s no way to get it before then.”

“Can you check and see if another store has it?”

There was one in New York. “They’re an hour ahead of us,” the woman said. “But it’s Sunday. There’s no way to get it shipped here for delivery tomorrow.”

He leaned forward. “Look, I really need the dress. If I can arrange for somebody to be at the store tomorrow morning when
they open up, can you arrange for that dress to be waiting for him?”

She cocked her head. “I’m sure I can.” She held a hand up to her chest. “You must care a great deal for the young woman.”

“I do,” he said. As he walked out of the store, he dialed Tom Ames. When he answered, Sam didn’t waste any time. He gave him an update on Claire’s condition and then said, “I need a favor and I’ll
make it worth your while.”

* * *

O
NCE
THE
MRI
was finally over, Claire walked out into the exam room, where Sam was waiting. He was the only person in the rather crowded room who wasn’t reading a magazine or a book or playing with their phone. He was standing, his back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, staring at the floor.

He looked up, their eyes met and Claire’s
heart did a little flutter in her chest. He cared. She could see it, feel it.

“Hi,” she said. “They’re springing me finally.”

He didn’t answer, just wrapped an arm gently around her and led her out of the room. He helped her into the car.

When she got settled, she turned to him. “I have a prescription for some pain pills,” she said. “Could we stop at a pharmacy on the way home?”

“Of course.”

That was the only thing he said to her for forty minutes. When they finally parked in the alley behind his house, she turned to him. “Sam, is something wrong?”

He turned to her and his eyes were filled with pain. “I can’t stand to see you hurt,” he said, his voice rough.

She scooted across the seat and leaned into him. “I’m going to be fine. A couple of days, good
as new.”

He buried his face in her hair. “It could have ended so much differently,” he said, his voice muffled.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

They sat in the car, simply holding each other, for another twenty minutes. Finally, Sam lifted his head. “You need to get inside, get some rest.”

“I want a shower,” she said.

“Okay. Shower first, pain pill second, bed third.”

She stood under the hot water for a long time, easing the soreness out of her muscles. When she finally turned off the water, Sam was waiting for her, a big, fluffy towel in hand. He wrapped her in it and gently dried her. Then he led her over to the bed, where he’d already pulled back the covers. There was a glass of water and one of her pain pills on the nightstand.

“I could get used
to this,” she teased.

“You have my undivided attention,” he said as he motioned for her to climb in.

“You’re not going back to work?”

“No.”

“But—”

He waved a hand. “I’m staying here with you. There’s nothing to discuss.”

She chewed on her lip, considering. “Okay, but I do have one request.”

“Name it,” he said.

“Lie down with me,” she said. “Please. Just
for a little while.”

He looked undecided for a moment but then nodded. He sat down and then carefully settled back. He folded his arms underneath his head.

She stared at him. “Not with your clothes on,” she said.

He shook his head. “No way, nohow. You’re naked. I need to stay fully clothed. Because that’s the last thing you need.”

“What’s the last thing I need?”

He rolled
his eyes. “Sex.”

She smiled. “You’re wrong. But for now, I’ll let you off the hook. But I want you to hold me. I want to feel your skin, your warmth. Please.”

He shook his head in resignation. “I am putty in your hands.” He started taking off his clothes. When he got down to his boxers, he stopped. “Far enough,” he proclaimed.

They lay down and she turned onto her uninjured side.
He moved in behind her and gently splayed a hand over her hip. “Sleep tight, honey,” he said, his voice soft.

She did. When she woke up, the room was dark. Her shoulder ached and she was hungry, but none of that mattered. Sam was still with her.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“Did you sleep?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

She was pretty sure he was lying. “What time is
it?”

“Almost seven. You’ve been asleep for a couple hours. I’ll go fix you something to eat.”

He made her a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup, which she ate in bed. When he insisted she take a couple of pain pills, she shook her head. “After,” she said.

“After what?” he responded.

“After you make love to me.” To seal the deal, she used her one good arm to throw back the
covers.

His eyes met hers and then very slowly, inch by inch, they traveled down her naked body. She could feel the heat from his body, the intensity of his need.

She spread her legs and he surrendered.

He made love to her, very slowly and very tenderly. There wasn’t a place on her that he didn’t touch. And then he held her again until morning.

It had made getting shoved in
front of a moving vehicle almost worth it.

When the alarm rang, she used her good arm to turn it off. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“You could stay home,” Sam said.

She shook her head. “I’ve missed so much time already this week. I have a to-do list that’s turning into a 300-pound paperweight.”

“Your boss isn’t going to give you a hard time about missing work,
is he?” Sam asked, sounding very concerned. He sat up in bed.

She cocked her head. “Why? Will you go beat him up if he does?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll beat him up and then shoot him. Then I’ll start looking for Mission on general principles.”

She laughed. “You’re too hard on Pete. Although there might not be a whole lot of people standing in your way trying to stop you.”

“Why?”

“He’s been so irritable. The only good thing is that he’s mostly staying in his office. Maybe he’s just nervous about the awards ceremony. At least that will be over tonight.” She stood up and gently stretched, completely comfortable being naked in front of Sam.