Innocent Next Door (Military Men Book 1) (10 page)

“If you’ve caused Mabel to go into premature labor, I’m gonna sue. Don’t think I won’t either, missy.” The boots kept coming until they halted three inches from her nose, close enough to touch. “Huh! Should have known. You’re one of those young punks with weird-colored hair and metal pins in places that I’m sure doesn’t have the approval of the good Lord. You’re bleeding.” He tsk-tsked loudly. “Suppose I’ll have to use that newfangled phone thing my daughter gave me for emergencies.”

The man squatted beside her, his knees creaking. “Hope you know how to use this thing ’cause my memory is a bit hazy on the instructions. I’ll ring for an ambulance, but I can’t wait. I’ve got to check Mabel.”

“I’m fine.” Summer attempted to lift her head to survey the road for a body. She hadn’t run over anyone. She hadn’t. “Just ring Nik—” No! Not a good idea. She struggled to sit but ended in an undignified sprawl.

The elderly man pulled a cell phone from his pocket and eyed it doubtfully. He held it away from him then stabbed a button. A satisfied grunt emerged. After pushing more buttons and more grunting, he spoke. “Lisa, I need you to ring for an ambulance.”

Summer heard a panicked squawk.

“Not for me, Lisa!” the man shouted. “Some fool girl has driven off the road. Right near Mabel’s house. I don’t know. Better ring the cops too. If Mabel’s hurt, I want to sue.”

The man shoved the phone back in his pocket, glanced at her then stood with another round of creaking joints. “Can you stand?” he demanded, his voice gruff.

Summer nodded and immediately wished she hadn’t. The man with drums was still present in her head, her nod inducing him to pound louder. She bit her bottom lip and pushed upward. She made it to her feet but wavered, balance challenged. The man’s hands shot out to steady her, strong and sure despite his age.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, battling both dizziness and the urge to throw up over the man’s gumboots.

In the distance, the faint cry of sirens sounded.

“Good. They’ll be here soon. Bleeding looks to have stopped. Lean against the car.” The man led her to her Mazda. He glanced down the road, clear impatience showing in his lined face. He vibrated with worry.

Summer tried to focus. “I can’t see…Mabel. Go check. She might need the ambulance.”

The man’s head whipped around to stare at her. “The vet maybe, but not the ambulance. Mabel is my angora goat.”

A goat? A flash of yellow-and-green and the incessant screech of sirens told Summer help was at hand. Alice in Wonderland. All she needed was a pink rabbit to go with the goat, and she’d fit right in at the tea party. A mechanic… A tow company. She shuddered at the thought of repairs and the resulting bill. When would they turn off that infernal racket? Her right hand crept up to touch her throbbing temple.

“Over here,” the old man hollered.

Summer moaned.

A lady in a white shirt and navy-blue trousers inserted herself in the gap between her and the elderly man. “Where does it hurt, love?”

“Head.” Lord, did it hurt.

“What about your eyes? How many fingers am I holding up?”

She squinted through narrowed eyes. The fingers wavered, multiplying, changing from four to two and back again. In the end, she guessed. “Three?”

“Concussion,” the woman murmured to a second man. “Come on, love. We’ll get you to a hospital.”

“But what about Mabel?” Summer demanded, her heart thudding with panic. She must have hit Mabel. That man had said so. “Is she hurt?”

“Was someone else in the car? Where are they?”

From behind her, a small cough sounded. The two ambulance attendees looked past her.

“Mabel is my goat,” the man said. “Her house is the other side of the hedge. And if she’s injured, I’m suing.” His words were punctuated by a plaintive bleat.

Oh, yeah. A goat. Mabel was a goat. He’d told her that earlier. Thank goodness. She slumped, suddenly aware of every aching bone and muscle. A shiver danced through her as another mournful bleat sliced through her pounding head. She bit back a groan. If her mother heard about this accident, she would yank every parental rein at her disposal. Summer would find herself back in Eketahuna quicker than Superman could change into his fancy duds.

The elderly man stomped into her range of vision. “Mabel doesn’t sound good.”

Perhaps this man was related to her mother?

“Sir, we need to get this woman to hospital. What’s your name, love? Can we get the police to contact your family?”

“Summer.” Funny, there were cartoon birds fluttering around inside her head. If she listened hard enough, she could hear their frantic tweeting.

“Summer, your family?”

The woman’s last question finally registered. Family. No way. Nikolai’s number. He’d help.

Nikolai.

Summer grimaced. Lately, she turned to him with all her problems. She was coming to rely on him. A sharp pain in her lungs reminded her to breathe. In fact, old Nikolai was like a handy-dandy crutch. Panic started to unfurl in her. Deep inside, it unraveled like a ball of her mother’s yarn. Was she a person who needed a crutch?

The wail of another siren cut through the tentative chirp of birds and the buzz of a bee seeking nectar from the wildflowers. Mabel bleated indignantly on the other side of the hedge. A car pulled to a stop, sending a billow of dust sailing through the air.

Summer sneezed and held her aching head. At the sound of footsteps, she opened her eyes. Her gaze met with shiny black shoes and crisply pressed navy trousers.

“You,” a masculine voice said. “We’ve just let you out of custody. How can you be in trouble again already?”

“She’s a criminal. What did I tell you?” the elderly man cried in a triumphant voice.

“You can talk to her later. We need to get her to hospital,” the female attendant cut in.

Summer wanted to deny everything. All allegations. She was the innocent one here. Why did no one believe her?

The woman propelled her to the ambulance, and she subsided onto a soft mattress with a relieved sigh. Important things to worry about. Somehow, she possessed an enemy who was becoming bolder in their methods. She swam way out of her depth. Her journey to find herself and to assert independence had become fraught with problems. She required help. Nikolai.

Outside the ambulance, two policemen huddled together, talking in low voices. The one who interrogated her this morning stepped inside the ambulance.

“Someone rear-ended you.”

She attempted to nod then groaned. “Yes,” she gritted out past the swooping cartoon birds.

“Are you coming with us or staying here?” the female ambulance officer demanded.

“I’ll stay. The evidence we’ve found changes everything. This accident looks deliberate.” The detective stared at her, an assessing expression on his jaded, seen-it-all face. “Lady, you have an enemy, and he means business.”

* * * * *

Nikolai eyed the lack of lights in the house next door for the third time in as many minutes. His gut churned as he checked his clock. Nine o’clock. Something was wrong. Every single one of his senses screamed it. The Mazda wasn’t parked out front either.

That was even more alarming.

The throaty purr of a car drew his attention. The clotheshorse. Summer must be with him. Although he didn’t want her spending time with the man, the tense set left his shoulders. His gut, however, continued to burn, and he reached for a tube of antacids.

Martin climbed out of his convertible and strolled to the front door. After a brisk knock, he stood back and waited expectantly. Nikolai hesitated, wondering whether to go out and interrogate the man or stay.

The continued uneasiness inside and his promise to Henry made the decision for him. That he’d begun to care about Summer in a sexual way, he shoved aside.

Nikolai slid out the open window and strode around to the front of Henry’s house. He watched the man for a few seconds, hoping to pick up on the situation without the need of questions. When the man knocked a second time, he knew something had happened to Summer.

He stepped out of the shadows so Martin could see him. “Martin.”

“
You
.”

A smirk curled across Nikolai’s lips. Like a dog sizing up the enemy, his grin widened to show teeth.

“Is Summer with you?”

Nikolai slouched against the trellis near the front door. Despite his relaxed posture, every muscle was primed to spring at the slightest hint of provocation. “I was gonna ask the same thing. I haven’t talked to her since this morning.”

“But she knew I was coming back. We were having dinner.”

“Her car’s gone.” Nikolai straightened and stalked closer to Martin. The man appeared worried and that made Nikolai’s insides burn with renewed vigor. “She left early afternoon.”

Martin cursed under his breath. For a long drawn-out second they traded a stare.

Martin’s face paled. The man knew something, and he was damn well going to share even if he had to beat it out of the man. Nikolai pounced, grabbing two fistfuls of linen shirt. “If something’s happened to her because of you…” His glare concluded the sentence, and he took immense satisfaction in the way Martin inched away as far as he could, given Nikolai’s grip on his person.

“Have you tried to ring her phone?” Martin asked.

Pique rippled through Nikolai. Hell, she hadn’t given him the number. “Nope. Have you?”

“A couple of times. It rings but she doesn’t answer. I’ve left a message, sent a text too, but she hasn’t returned my call.”

Nikolai released the man. “Give me your phone.”

Martin stepped out of range before he dug in the rear pocket of his designer jeans. He pulled out a phone not much bigger than a cigarette packet. “Speed dial four.”

Speed dial four
. Why didn’t the man just rub his face in it? Nikolai took the miniature phone and stabbed a button. He held the phone to his ear and prayed Summer would answer. Four rings. Five rings…

“Hello.”

“Who is this?” Nikolai demanded. “Where’s Summer?”

The person on the other end wasn’t cooperative. “Who is this?”

“Nikolai Tarei. Summer’s neighbor.” Damn this man had better have answers.

“Detective Matthews.”

Fear sliced through him with the suddenness of guerilla fire. “Where’s Summer?” He listened to the detective, his grip tightening on the phone until white showed on his knuckles. “Yeah. Okay.” He hit the end button and handed the phone back to Martin. “Summer’s in the hospital. Someone rear-ended her vehicle and fled the scene.” He didn’t add that the detective had sounded worried even though the man had tried to hide it. Nikolai took a deep breath, but it did little to dispel his own rising fear.

“Hospital? What’s she doing there?” Martin appeared uneasy, glancing at his watch every few minutes.

Nikolai wondered why. “Concussion concerns. They’re keeping her in overnight. You coming to the hospital?” He hated to ask but Summer would want to see the man.

Dare checked his expensive wristwatch again. “I can’t. I have an important meeting in half an hour. That’s why I’ve been trying to ring Summer—to cancel our dinner date. Look, tell her I’m sorry. I’ll check in on her later tonight.”

“All right.” Nikolai watched the man rush to his car, but instead of driving off, the man made a call. Weird. The clotheshorse wasn’t acting as if he was in a hurry. He didn’t seem worried about Summer either. If anything, he looked pissed.

Something or someone had rattled his cage.

Nikolai hurried inside to collect his car keys. The cushy babysitting number Henry had handed him was turning into the assignment from hell. Summer was in danger right up to her pretty little neck, and if he wasn’t careful, he would go down with her.

Chapter Nine

Nikolai stood at the door of the hospital room, his gaze on the still form in the narrow bed. His heart jumped and stuck halfway up his throat, his pulse hammering as if he’d just finished training maneuvers. She looked pale, so defenseless in the hospital bed, her blue-streaked hair a bright contrast to the wan face and the white pillowcase.

A cold sweat beaded his brow. Hell, if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. This wasn’t a mere job, a favor to Henry any longer. Somehow, somewhere along the line, she’d wormed into his affections with her smart mouth and sassiness.

He shook himself and stepped closer to the bed. He must’ve made a sound because her eyes popped open.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Are…” Nikolai paused to clear the lump from his throat. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but winced slightly, enough to let him know she needed to stay right where she was in the hospital.

He grabbed a chair from the adjacent cubicle and set it next to the bed. “Are you up to telling me what happened?”

“I was driving to my Tae Kwon Do class. The traffic was heavier than normal so I took one of the back roads. A vehicle raced up behind, rear-ended me on purpose and drove off.”

“Bastard.” Anger pumped through his veins. He didn’t like the developing picture. Murky and disjointed as it was, it spelled danger. It was obvious someone wanted to hurt her, but that wasn’t going to happen. His jaw tensed as he mentally prepared—even if he had to watch her 24/7.

The need to touch her, to reassure himself she was okay roared through him. After battling the urge for long tension-filled seconds, he gave in and ran his fingers across the smooth skin of her brow. It wasn’t enough. He had a craving to haul her into his arms and hold her, body aligned to body.

A sexual charge jolted him, tightening his balls and jerking his cock. Instantly, disgust flew through his mind. She was hurt, yet he couldn’t get past the sexual heat that licked through his veins whenever he was in the same room, breathing the same air as her. Hell, he wasn’t sure whether to kiss her senseless or ream her out for her recklessness.

“I think it was on purpose. The second I went off the road, he slowed before fleeing.”

Bastard.

Nikolai looked forward to punching his fist into the driver’s gut as soon as he caught up with him. He had to get rid of the angst riding him somehow. “Did you get a good look at him?”