Running Blind (19 page)

“Jenna, are you up to answering a few questions? If we keep digging, we might figure out what's going on, put the person responsible in jail and really ensure your safety.” Officer Daniels pulled out a small notebook as Jenna nodded.

“I've answered dozens of questions in the past week, and you still haven't found the person responsible.”

“We will. As I said to Nikolai, it's just a matter of time.”

“Time is something I'm beginning to think I don't have a lot of.” Jenna dropped onto the bed again, anxiety and frustration pulsing out from her in waves.

Nikolai crossed to her side, taking a seat beside her, and putting an arm around her shoulders. She smiled, but the fear was still in her eyes.

“It's going to be okay, Jenna.”

“You're always telling me that.”

“Because I'm always believing it. God hasn't saved you over and over again to let you die now.”

“I hope not.”

“I
know
not.” He squeezed her hand gently, praying he was right. As much as he believed that God was in control, Nikolai had never claimed to understand His ways. Why one person lived a long life and another died young, why one person was born into poverty and another into riches were things that Nikolai would never comprehend. What he did understand was that there was power in prayer and that faith was all that was needed to see a person through the most trying of circumstances.

He prayed as Officer Daniels questioned Jenna, prayed more as the officer left to find Romero and continued to pray as Jenna sprawled back on the bed and closed her eyes.

When his cell phone rang, he ignored it, determined to stay by Jenna's side as she slept. When it rang again, he glanced at the caller ID and frowned. John Romero.

Nikolai covered Jenna with an extra blanket and walked
out into the hall. It was quiet, the hospital settling down for the night.

“Hello?”

“What kind of game are you playing, Jansen?”

“Maybe if you explain what you're talking about, I can tell you.” He leaned a shoulder against the wall, more pleased than he probably should be to hear John's frantic tone. It was past time for the guy to get flustered and start worrying.

“The police are at my house, going through my cupboards. Apparently, you thought it would be funny to tell them that I'd poisoned Jenna.”

“That isn't what I told them.”

“Then why are they here?”

“Jenna was fine. Then she ate soup that your mother prepared and you dished up, and she wasn't fine. Do the math.” Feet tapped on the tile floor and a custodian moved past, mop and bucket in hand.

Nikolai took a step closer to Jenna's door.

“So, you're saying my
mother
tried to murder Jenna?”

“I'm not saying anything.” The tap of the custodian's feet on the tile had ceased, the hall eerie in its silence. Nikolai tensed, barely listening as John continued to complain. Something was wrong. He felt it and turned as the custodian lunged toward him, what looked like a police club in his hand. Nikolai put up an arm to fend off the first blow, felt the bone snap as the club hit.

There was no time to feel pain.

No time to do anything but fight.

He dodged as the club swung toward his head, grabbing for his attacker's arm, twisting it, Nikolai's one good arm no match for the other man's strength.

The club swung again, the heavy wood crashing into Nikolai's temple. He felt a moment of rage, a moment of pure fear for Jenna and then he felt nothing at all.

S
huffling. Sliding. Fabric dragging on the floor.

The sounds drifted into Jenna's dreams, and for a moment she was back in Mexico, lying on the cement floor of the old house, waiting to learn her fate. She jerked upright, her heart pounding as she caught sight of a dark figure near the room's door.

“Nikolai?” It was too dark to see much detail, but she could make out dark hair and a slim build. Not Nikolai, then. A doctor, maybe. Or a nurse.

“He went for some coffee. I told him I'd keep an eye on you until he returned.”

“That's not necessary.” She felt uneasy, but wasn't sure why. Nikolai had every right to go for a cup of coffee, and she had no reason to doubt the word of the man walking toward her.

No reason except for the fact that someone wants you dead.

The thought whispered through her mind as the man took a few steps closer, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Probably not, but I doubt your boyfriend would thank me if I left you here alone.”

“It's not his decision to make, and I really would prefer to be alone.” She tried to put some strength in her voice, but the words came out weak and tentative.

“You're due for your medicine anyway, so it isn't a bother
for me to spend a few minutes with you.” He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and Jenna's eyes widened.

“What medicine?”

“Pain meds.”

“The doctor didn't say anything about that.”

“It probably just slipped his mind.”

“Her. My doctor is a woman.”

“That's right. Sorry, I just came on shift an hour ago.” He smiled, flashing white teeth and cold, hard eyes as he uncapped the syringe, opened the port on the IV.

“I think I'll skip it.” Jenna yanked the IV stand away, terror pooling in her belly as she reached for the call button on the bed.

“I wouldn't do that, Jenna.” He spoke quietly, his silky voice shivering through her and adding to her terror.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I'm death, and I'm here to take what should have been mine a week ago.” He grabbed the IV pole, shoved the syringe into the port.

Jenna screamed, yanking the needle from her arm, blood spurting from the wound as she leaped from the bed.

A fist closed around her hair, and she was yanked back, her head slamming into the wall as her attacker shoved her sideways. “You could have died easy, but I see that's not what you want.”

“I don't want to die at all.” She panted, stars bursting in front of her eyes, sharp pain exploding through her head. Would she lose her vision again? Would she have to fight blind?

Please, God, help me.

Please.

“Too bad. You make a deal with the devil and you end up going to—”

The bathroom door flew open, crashing against the wall as a man stumbled out. Tall, broad-shouldered.

Nikolai. Something dark and wet running down his face.

Blood.

A lot of it.

He grabbed the other man by the shirt, nearly lifting him from his feet as he swung him around and slammed a fist into his face. The guy stumbled back, bumping into the wall before righting himself, reaching behind his back, pulling something from beneath his shirt.

A knife.

He had a knife.

Nikolai grabbed the man's wrist, forcing his hand away, yelling for Jenna to run for help.

But she couldn't leave him there bleeding and fighting for his life. Couldn't run for help knowing that he might be dead before she returned. She slammed her finger onto the emergency call button, praying the nurses would come quickly. Then she lifted the plastic carafe of water, threw it into the face of her attacker.

He cursed, stumbling back.

Nikolai pounced, throwing himself straight at the man, at the knife, at certain death. Both men fell to the floor, wrestling for control of the knife, Nikolai struggling. Losing. Their attacker on top of him, the knife plunging toward Nikolai's heart, Nikolai barely managing to hold it away.

The door opened, and a nurse stepped in the room, turning on the light and letting out a shriek that must have carried down the hall. She screamed for security, her eyes wide with panic, and Jenna wanted to tell her to stop screaming and to start helping, but she was too busy struggling with what felt like three tons worth of IV pole. Too busy praying for a miracle of strength.

Finally, she managed to lift the pole, barely managed to swing it into the man who'd called himself death.

He tumbled sideways, the knife falling from his hand, then jumped up, trying to run to the door.

Nikolai grabbed his ankle, pulling him back down again.

Feet slapped against tile, people yelled for the hallway to be cleared.

“Freeze,” a security guard commanded, pulling a gun from its holster as he entered the room.

And the whole world went silent.

“Both of you, put your hands up.”

“I don't think that's a good idea. This guy tried to kill Jenna, and there is no way I'm going to give him the opportunity to try again.” Nikolai pulled the man up by his shirt, shoving him toward the security guard, blood seeping down his temple in thick purplish rivulets.

“We need a doctor. My friend has been hurt,” Jenna said, worry edging out fear.

“I'll be fine as long as this scum doesn't escape.”

“No worries. We'll keep him handcuffed and under guard until the police arrive. Do you know him, ma'am?” the security guard asked as he frisked the guy.

“No.” But she wished she did. At least then, she might have some clue as to why he'd tried to kill her.

“So, there's no bad blood between you? No reason that he'd want you dead?”

“She's breathing. That's enough reason for me,” the man said, his dark gaze on Jenna. She shivered, and Nikolai wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Ignore him.”

“I can't. I need to know why he's here. I need to know why he tried to kill me.”

“Give me enough reason, and I just might tell you.” The guy grinned, his eyes as cold and dead-looking as a snake's.

“I'll give you plenty,” Nikolai said, stepping toward him, and Jenna grabbed the belt loop of his jeans.

“Let it go. It's the job of the police to question him. Not ours.”

“The guy needs to be taught a lesson.”

“But you won't be the one to do it. Unless you want to be
arrested, too,” the security guard cut in, shoving the suspect to the door.

A cacophony of voices drifted into the room, and several police officers appeared, taking the man into custody and reading him his Miranda rights.

Officer Daniels stood behind them, scowling as he watched the guy being escorted away. “I was hoping we wouldn't be doing this again, but at least we've got someone in custody.”

“That will only matter if you can find out why he was here.” Nikolai walked to the door, cradling one arm against his chest as he stared down the hall.

“True, that. Looks like you got the worst of the fight this time, Jansen.”

“The guy took out my arm with a wooden baton and then knocked me over the head.”

“And he tried to stab you, Jenna?”

“No. He was going to shoot something into my IV. The syringe is on the ground somewhere.”

“We'll collect it as evidence. See what was in it.” He gestured for another officer to bag the syringe and the IV bag. “And maybe we'll get him to talk.”

“The last guy didn't,” Jenna said, wishing she were more confident of the outcome, more sure that this man's arrest would be the end of her nightmare.

“Yet. He may change his mind when he realizes how long he could be put away for.” Officer Daniels's phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID.

“If you'll excuse me for just a minute.”

He took a few steps away, answering the call as a nurse approached Nikolai and began dabbing at the wound on his head.

“We need to bring you down to X-ray to get a look at your arm,” the nurse said, and Nikolai shook his head.

“That's not going to happen. I'm staying here with Jenna until she's released.”

“The police are right here, Nikolai. I'll be fine.”

“I've stopped believing that. Until I know for sure that you're not going to be attacked again, I'm not going to leave your side.”

“Quit being macho and go get the x-ray. You're not going to do me any good with a broken arm.”

“I knew I could count on you to be supportive.” Nikolai grinned, and Jenna smiled in return.

“Well, you
are
being macho.”

“I'm being concerned. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you.” He grabbed her hand, twined his fingers through hers.

And she thought she could stay that way forever, the two of them connected in such a small way, the impact of it touching her to her very soul.

“Good news, folks.” Officer Daniels shoved his phone back into his pocket, grinning widely. “That guy we just arrested? His name is Mack Stanley.”

“The name doesn't sound familiar.” And Jenna wasn't sure why having it was such good news.

“Maybe not to you. The guy has a rap sheet a mile long. He's wanted in two states for assault with a deadly weapon and there's a warrant out for his arrest in Austin. He's the prime suspect in a murder there. He's also known for stockpiling weapons. It wouldn't surprise me if we found World War II weapons in his cache.”

“So you think he tossed the grenade this morning?”

“I don't know, but I'm going to find out.”

“One way or another, he's not the kind of guy who should be out on the streets.”

“No, but apparently he is the kind of guy who's got a healthy sense of self-preservation.”

“What do you mean?” Nikolai leaned forward, his dark eyes alive with interest. How a guy who'd been knocked out, had his arm broken and nearly been killed could look so good, Jenna didn't know, but somehow, he managed it.

“It took him all of two minutes in the squad car to start singing like a jaybird.”

“He's talking?”

“Yeah. And I think you can guess whose name he mentioned.”

“John Romero's.” Nikolai smiled.

“Bingo! Says Romero paid him $20,000 to get rid of Jenna. He got half up front and would have gotten the other half when she was dead. He says there's more that he can tell us, but he's not talking until he has a lawyer, and we offer him a deal. It's not much, but it's enough to bring Romero in for questioning.”

“That's exactly what I wanted to hear.” Nikolai tugged Jenna to his side, giving her a one-armed hug that heated her chilled skin.

John had hired someone to kill her.

Why? Did he blame her for Magdalena's death? Or was something else going on?

“You okay?” Nikolai's breath ruffled her hair as he spoke, his presence comforting and comfortable.

“I just want to know why John would do such a thing.”

“That's what I'm going to ask him. If you two will excuse me, I'm going to meet John at the station and see what he has to say.”

“He might deny it.”

“He might, but since we found rat poison in the fire pit outside his house and remnants of it on the counter in the kitchen, I think it's safe to say, he's going to know that lying will do little good. I'll call you when I have more information. In the meantime, I think you can finally get back to your life, Jenna.” Officer Daniels offered a brief wave and then retreated down the hall.

“Back to my life. I'm not even sure I know what that means.”

“It means a little cottage in Washington and a cat named Dante warming your feet.” Nikolai smiled gently as he stepped
away, and Jenna wondered if it also included him or if he would slip back out of her life as quietly as he'd slipped into it.

She wanted to ask, but a doctor entered the room and urged Nikolai into a chair. Nurses closed in to offer supplies as his head wound was cleaned and stitched, and Jenna could do nothing but stand near the wall, watching, wondering.

Praying.

That she really
could
finally go back to her life.

That the nightmare she'd survived really
had
ended.

And that no matter what happened, no matter where she went from here, she'd be as content with her life as she had been before Nikolai entered it.