Running Blind (11 page)

By the time he'd found a glass and filled it with water, Jenna was breathing deeply, her face relaxed in sleep. She looked young and vulnerable, and Nikolai didn't have the heart to wake her. He left the pill on the end table and set the glass beside it. Then he pulled a throw from the back of a chair and draped it over her. She stirred but didn't open her eyes.

It was time to leave, but Nikolai hesitated. There was no security system, no way to protect Jenna from anyone who might decide to break in.

He examined the lock on the door. He could lock it, but the bolt could only be engaged from the inside unless he had a key. Which he didn't.

Maybe he should sleep outside the door just to make sure no one breached Jenna's sanctuary.

And maybe he was too tired to think straight.

The fact was, Jenna was no less safe here than she'd have been at a hotel. As a matter of fact, she was probably safer. There was a house full of people sleeping around her, and a killer would much prefer to attack when his victim was alone.

The thought was cold comfort as Nikolai turned the lock on the door and stepped outside. The sky had lightened, deep black turning to navy blue. Night sounds had ceased, the frogs and insects no longer calling out to each other. In the resulting silence, Nikolai was sure he heard the pad of feet on grass. He slipped into the shadows at the corner of the house, waiting and watching as the minutes ticked by. Another soft sound followed the first, this one coming from behind him. He eased around, his ears straining, his heart pumping adrenaline through him.

A dark shadow appeared, moving toward the door that Nikolai had just exited. He waited, barely breathing as the shadow slid closer. Just a few more steps, a few more heartbeats.

Something jingled, the sound reminding Nikolai of keys
hitting against one another, but he didn't have time to figure out what he was hearing. He lunged forward, tackling the would-be intruder before he could reach Jenna's door.

A
loud bang woke Jenna from uneasy sleep. She jerked upright, her heart slamming against her ribs.

“Nikolai?” she called out, but there was no answer.

Another bang followed the first, and this time Jenna was sure she heard a male voice. She rushed for the door, hesitating with her hand on the knob. Had Nikolai gone outside and been attacked?

She'd barely had time to consider the question when the knob turned beneath her hand. Her heart jumped to her throat, and she screamed, the sound more a squeak than a shout.

She pivoted, running to the kitchen. A knife. There had to be a knife in one of the drawers. She opened the first, found nothing. Opened the second and pulled out a butter knife. Not the perfect weapon, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Please, God, let it be enough.

She whirled back around as the door flew open, her head pounding as her pulse raced.

A man stumbled inside. Dark hair, slim, muscular build. “John?”

“He was skulking around outside your door.” Nikolai stepped in behind him, his dark eyes flashing with anger.

“It's my house. I wouldn't call walking around in the backyard skulking.” John spat out the response, and Jenna was surprised by the venom in his tone. She'd always thought of him as mild-mannered and slow to irritation, but the
stress of Magdalena's death and funeral seemed to be wearing on him.

“It's four in the morning. What reason do you have for
walking
around in your yard?”

“I think the better question would be what reason do
you
have for being in my yard at four in the morning?” John moved farther into the room, the heavy scent of cologne and alcohol sweeping in with him.

“Nikolai was visiting me,” Jenna cut in, hoping to ease the building tension.

“I didn't realize the two of you were an item.”

“We're not,” she said too quickly, heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. That was the curse of red hair and fair skin. She could never hide her emotions.

“You're not an item, but he's here in the wee hours of the morning,
visiting
.” John frowned, the sarcasm oozing through his voice, then took a deep breath. “Look, that didn't come out the way I meant it to. It's none of my business what you choose to do—”

“We're not
doing
anything.”

“As I said, it's none of my business. I just saw the car out front, and I was worried. After everything that's been happening, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I appreciate that, John.”

“You saw my car out front?” Nikolai speared John with a look that would have sent Jenna running if it had been leveled at her. Just a few minutes ago, he'd stood with his hand on her shoulder, his face soft with compassion. Now, he looked cold and hard, nothing like the man who'd left his house and come running to her side.

“It's parked in front of my driveway. Of course, I saw it.”

“It's an early hour to be awake.”

“And, yet, here we all are. Wide awake.” John smiled, but Jenna didn't miss the heat in his words.

Neither man seemed willing to back down or back off.
Both seemed suspicious of each other. Their tension filled the room, and Jenna's head pounded with renewed vigor.

She should never have called Nikolai. She still wasn't sure why she had. The silence of the house, the darkness pressing in from outside and her own chaotic thoughts had conspired to make her feel vulnerable and alone.

And now she wasn't alone.

She collapsed onto the sofa, her stomach lurching with the sudden movement. “I'm sure we all have too much on our minds to sleep. I'm sorry if Nikolai's car caused you concern, John. I certainly didn't mean to worry you.”

John turned his attention from Nikolai and offered Jenna a tight nod. “It's no problem. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Since you are, I'll go back into the main house.”

“Here,” Nikolai said, lifting a glass from the side table and handed Jenna a white pill that sat beside it. “Take this. You look pale.”

“I'm always pale. It goes with the red hair.” She tried to smile, but her hands were shaking. She took the glass, water sloshing onto her pants and the sofa. “Great.” She stood quickly, swaying as the pain in her head burst into a kaleidoscope of sparkling lights.

“Slow down, Jen. There's no hurry.” Nikolai's hands cupped her upper arms, his warmth seeping into her chilled skin. She could have stood there for hours, could have given in to temptation and leaned her head against his chest, let herself rest there for a while.

Could have, but knew she shouldn't.

She stepped away, her arms still warm from his touch. “I'm fine. It's just these migraines I've been having.” She blinked rapidly, hoping the colorful aura would disappear.

“Magdalena had horrible migraines. I have some of her medicine if you need it,” John offered, his tension easing as the conversation shifted.

“I have something. Thanks, though.” She swallowed the
pill with some water, trying to think past the pounding pain in her head.

“I didn't realize Magdalena suffered from migraines.” It was something she'd have thought her friend would have mentioned, but, then, Magdalena had never been one to complain. No matter what was happening in her life, she'd always maintained an upbeat attitude.

“Just since Ben was born. They were brutal. Sometimes she was home in bed for days.”

“She never mentioned them.”

“You know how she was. She never wanted to admit to weaknesses.” John dropped onto the recliner, and Jenna had the impression he planned to stay a while.

“I always thought it was that she wanted to keep a positive attitude, rather than spending time complaining.”

“You didn't know her as well as I did.” He offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

She wanted to argue. She'd known Magdalena longer, after all. But what would be the point? With Magdalena dead, it didn't matter who had known her better or even the reasons why she'd kept her migraines to herself. “Maybe not.”

“The thing is,” John continued as if she hadn't spoken. “She changed after Benjamin was born. She used to be happy and carefree, but after his birth, she got quiet. It was as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders.”

“She seemed happy in Mexico,” Jenna said, leaning a hip on the edge of the couch. If she sat down, would John think that she wanted to continue the conversation? Because what she really wanted was for him to leave. There was a vibe about him when he mentioned Magdalena that she didn't like.

“I'm glad. It helps to know that her last few days were pleasant. The police…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away.

“What?”

“They think that Magdalena's migraines might have led to an addiction to narcotics. They think she might have needed
money to feed her addiction and agreed to traffic drugs for the Mexican Panthers to pay for it.”

“You've got to be kidding me! They can't really think that.” Jenna straightened, nearly knocking into Nikolai as she whirled around and paced across the room.

“I thought you should know. Things are starting to come out about Magdalena, and the media may get wind of them. Her death was a pretty big story around here, and people want to know why she died.”

“She died because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That's what I used to think, but the police think otherwise. I've got to admit, I'm starting to believe them.”

“How can you say that, John? She was your wife. She devoted her life to you and your son.”

“She devoted her life to her job. To making money. She loved the finer things in life. Look around you. I wanted a spare room for my parents to sleep in. Magdalena insisted we have an entire wing for them. ‘Let's show them what we've accomplished. Let's let them know how far we've come.' That's what she said. It was her philosophy of life.”

“Her philosophy of life, if you want to call it that, was service to God and to others.”

“That's what she wanted the world to think.” He shook his head sadly, and Jenna wanted to walk over and knock some sense into him.

“It's the truth. Why else would she have left you and Benjamin and traveled to Mexico a couple times a year?”

“I already told you what the police think.”

“I'm not asking what they think. I'm asking what
you
think.” Her voice rose, and she was helpless to stop it.

“I think that I didn't know my wife as well as I thought. I think that you didn't know your friend as well as you thought you did.”

“Come on, John. That's a cop-out. We both knew her, and we both know that she wasn't capable of what she's being
accused of.” Jenna tried to rein in her anger, but the throbbing pain in her head seemed to have robbed her of her good sense and self-control.

“Deluding ourselves into believing that an innocent woman was targeted by one of the most notorious drug cartels in Mexico isn't going to give either of us closure. There was a reason Magdalena was murdered. We have to be willing to admit it.”

“Admit what? In my opinion, the only people deluded are the police if they think that an upstanding citizen suddenly became a criminal and you if you think that Magdalena's death means you no longer owe her your loyalty.”

“I resent that, Jenna. You know I loved Magdalena. It breaks my heart to think—”

“Then don't think it.” She nearly shouted and colors flashed in front of her eyes again.

“I think that this conversation might be best continued at another time.” Nikolai spoke with quiet authority, his calmness defusing Jenna's anger.

“You're right. I don't think either one of us is thinking clearly right now. I apologize, John. I didn't mean to imply that you didn't love Magdalena.”

“I'm sorry, too.” He stood, shooting a quick look in Nikolai's direction. Would he have said more if Nikolai hadn't been there? Was there more that Jenna didn't know? Some other reason that John seemed so willing to believe his wife guilty of drug trafficking?

“Did your wife have any enemies, John?” Nikolai asked, the question unexpected. It hung in the air, the silence that followed it almost deafening.

John lifted the glass of water from the side table and carried it into the kitchen. He set it in the sink, and then turned to face Nikolai. “I thought we just agreed that this conversation was better off happening another time.”

“I'm not asking if there was a reason why the Mexican Panthers wanted your wife dead. I'm asking if someone else
might have. A coworker? Someone she butted heads with or who might have felt threatened by something she knew?”

“Of course not.”

“You're sure?” Nikolai pressed, and John's expression tightened, his mouth drawing into a thin line.

“Of course I am.”

“That's interesting.” Nikolai leaned a shoulder against the wall, his gaze never leaving John's face. What was he thinking? What was he really asking?

“What do you mean, Jansen? Interesting how?”

“You said you weren't sure you knew your wife as well as you'd once thought, but you're sure she had no enemies.”

“What's your point?”

“That you either knew your wife and know she didn't have enemies or you didn't and don't.”

“I'm not up to word games, so how about you just cut to the chase and tell me what your point is.”

“I'm a private investigator. Jenna has asked me to prove that Magdalena is innocent of drug trafficking. To do that, I need to get a feel for who your wife was. I thought you'd be the best place to begin, but you're saying you knew her and that you didn't know her all in the same breath.”

“You're investigating my wife's murder?”

“Her life. That's what will help me discover the truth.” Nikolai seemed neither apologetic nor defensive, and Jenna found his calm demeanor comforting. Despite John's words, there was no way she'd ever believe that Magdalena was the woman the police were painting her to be. Someone had planted drugs in her bags in Mexico. Someone had planted them in her home. Who? Why? These were questions Jenna was desperate to find answers to.

“Ask me any questions you'd like when the sun is up, Nikolai. Right now, though, I think a few hours of sleep would do me a world of good. I'm sure Jenna could use some rest, too.” He walked to the door and opened it, letting cool air drift in.

“I'll stop by tomorrow,” Nikolai said, not bothering to ask if that would work. “We can talk then.”

“Sounds good. Make it after noon. My parents are going to take Benjamin to the park this morning, and I'm planning to catch up on some sleep while they're gone. The reading of the will is at three, so you'd have to be here before then.”

“I'll be here at one.” Nikolai smiled, but Jenna saw something in his eyes that made her think he was judging every word John said. Judging and finding him wanting.

“Again, I'm sorry for busting in on you like this, Jenna. As I said, I saw the car and wanted to make sure you were okay. In retrospect, I probably should have picked up the phone and called.” John turned his trademark smile on Jenna. That was what had attracted Magdalena to him, and she'd often told Jenna that John's smile was the best thing about him. It left Jenna cold.

“This is your home, and I'm a guest. I should have thought of that before I called Nikolai.” She didn't bother explaining that she'd told Nikolai not to come. What would be the point? He had. John had seen his car, and now they were all standing awkwardly in the small foyer of the guest suite.

“You're welcome to have guests over. As a matter of fact, my mother wanted to invite you to dinner after the will is read. Why don't you come along, too, Nikolai?” He glanced at Nikolai who was watching intently.