Running Blind (7 page)

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Authors: Shirlee McCoy

BOOK: Running Blind
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“The questions we're asking are helping us paint a clearer picture of what went down in Mexico and will hopefully help us understand why it went down.”

“I've already told the DEA what happened. I've already told the Mexican police. Now, I'm telling you. My friend and I went to Mexico on a medical mission trip. We were abducted, and my friend was murdered. There was no reason for it. Magdalena did nothing to warrant execution. She was an upstanding citizen, a wonderful mother, a great wife and a fantastic friend. She didn't deserve to die.” To her horror, her voice broke and tears burned behind her eyes.

She hated crying.

Hated it.

“I think this interview is over.” Nikolai put his arm around Jenna's shoulders, tugging her to his side. She went willingly, allowing his warmth to seep into her and ease the chill that she'd barely realized she was feeling.

“We only have a few more questions.” The female officer persisted, not at all bothered by Jenna's distress.

“Nikolai is right. I can't answer any more questions.”

“Perhaps tomorrow—”

“I'm flying home as soon as I can get a flight out of Houston.”

“We don't recommend that.”

“Because you'd prefer I be here when my house is searched?”

“We're gathering evidence, Jenna.”

“Evidence regarding what?” Nikolai interjected. “No crimes have been committed except those that were committed against Jenna and her friend. How can searching Jenna's home help you solve those?” Nikolai walked to the door. Maybe he was hoping the police would follow him.

They didn't, of course.

“Dr. Romero had tens of thousands of dollars worth of illegal narcotics in her home. A few thousand dollars worth more were found in the hotel room she and Jenna were sharing.”

“The drugs were found in the doctor's bags. What does that have to do with Jenna?”

“That's what we're trying to find out.”

“You can try all you want, but you're not going to find anything.” Jenna hoped. As much as she wanted to believe in the system, she was worried that whoever had planted drugs in Magdalena's house and in her bags would do the same in hers.

“I'm sorry it took me so long, Jenna. I had to get the doctor's…” A nurse appeared in the open door, her voice trailing off as she caught sight of the two officers. “Should I come back in a few minutes?”

“No. You're fine. Thanks.” Jenna spoke quickly, anxious to get the IV out and leave the hospital. She needed some time to think.

“Are you sure? Because it really wouldn't be a problem to come back.”

“I'm sure.”

“All right, then. This will just take a minute. Come have a seat, dear.”

“We'll wait out in the hall,” the female officer said, and Jenna shook her head.

“I'd rather you didn't. I've had a long day, and I think I'm ready for it to be over.”

“We'll call you in the morning then.”

“That's fine.” Though she planned to be long gone by then.

Both officers left, and Jenna sat on the edge of the bed as the nurse pulled the IV from her arm and pressed a Band-Aid into place. “There you are. It's as easy as that.”

“Thank you.”

“And here are the doctor's orders. I'll just give them to your husband to hold onto. Basically—”

“He's not my husband.” Jenna cast a quick look in Nikolai's direction, sure her face was the color of ripe tomatoes.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I shouldn't have assumed.”

“It's no problem.” Jenna reached for the sheet, folded it in half without looking at it and stood.

“I'll just grab a wheelchair, and I'll be right back to get you out of here.” The nurse bustled out of the room, and Jenna didn't think there was any reason to wait for her return.

“Ready to go?” She offered Nikolai a quick smile.

“You're not going to wait for your chariot?”

“Would you?”

“Not a chance.” He grinned, and Jenna blinked. He looked younger when he smiled like that. More approachable. The kind of guy she'd have been drawn to in her other life.

But this wasn't her other life.

Things had changed. She'd changed.

“That's what I thought you'd say. Let's get out of here. The sooner I get back to the hotel and wash the hospital scent out of my hair, the happier I'll be.”

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“The Sheraton. It's a few miles from Magdalena's place.”

“I know it. My car is in the parking garage. You want to use my cell phone and let your parents know that you're on your way?” He put a hand on her upper back, his touch light. Somehow, though, she felt it more intensely than she'd felt anything in a long time.

She eased away, moving out into the hall, her heart beating just a little too quickly. After Ryan broke up with her, she'd promised herself that she wouldn't ever be so needy again.

And she
had
needed Ryan.

Bald, skinny, sallow-skinned from treatment, she'd felt anything but feminine in the months following chemotherapy.
She'd needed reassurance that she was still the woman she'd been before the first drop of poison dripped into her veins. What she'd gotten instead was the cold reality of Ryan's betrayal.

“Jen?” Nikolai stopped walking and looked into her face, his dark eyes filled with concern. “Are you sure you're up to this? Maybe it would be best to stay here.”

“I'm fine. I was just…thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing important.”

“If it's not important, then why are you thinking about it?”

“I've had enough questions thrown at me today, Nikolai. How about we just walk?” She started forward again, knowing that there was no good answer to what he'd asked. Even if she'd wanted to answer, she couldn't have. Why
was
she thinking about Ryan? After he'd broken the news that he no longer loved her, she'd pushed him out of her heart and out of her mind. Now, suddenly, after two years, she was thinking about him again.

And she didn't like it.

There were much more important things to think about. Like how she was going to prove Magdalena's innocence. How she was going to prove her own innocence. Those were things she'd better concentrate on if she planned to go back to the life she'd been living in Spokane.

And she did.

She could only hope that was God's plan, too.

One thing she'd learned during her fight against cancer was that all the plans in the world meant nothing unless God was in them. She could plot out a course for her life, one with a husband and kids. She could choose a career path. She could plan for a future, but only God knew what tomorrow would bring. As hard as that was to embrace, she'd done so during those difficult years. She'd embrace it now as well.
One moment at a time. One day at a time. That's how she'd deal with the new trouble she'd found herself in. God willing, she'd make it through and reclaim the life she'd fought so hard for.

EIGHT

N
ikolai hadn't been born patient. As a kid, he'd been quick to use his fists to make a point. He'd fought hard to bring home food for his younger sisters and to protect them from the men their drug-addicted mother had often brought home. All that had changed the year he'd turned twelve and his mother had dropped her three children off at an orphanage. Left them there to survive or not.

Nikolai had learned to practice patience then. He'd learned to be quiet and to listen. He'd learned that time could speed up just as easily as it could slow down. He'd learned what it was to lose the people he loved the most, and he'd learned that he could survive the pain of it.

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Jenna had just about driven him to the edge of reason.

He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structure. Nikolai listened for other things. Furtive footfalls on pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff of a breath. Someone had tried to kill Jenna just a few hours ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let her leave Houston alive.

The garage went quiet as he stepped around the car. The
sounds of people and conversation faded, the echoing tap of feet disappeared. Something sinister lay in the silence, and Nikolai turned, scanning the garage. He'd been caught off guard earlier. Like everyone else, he'd assumed that the Panthers had achieved their goal in murdering Magdalena and that Jenna was safe from harm.

He wouldn't be caught off guard again.

A shadow shifted in his periphery, and he turned as a man stepped from between two cars. Medium height. Medium build. Well-dressed and carrying a briefcase. Not someone Nikolai would normally have noticed. Not someone he would normally have thought of as a threat.

But these weren't normal circumstances, and everyone was a threat until proven otherwise.

“Hey!” The man called out, offering a quick wave and a brief smile. “I've locked myself out of my car, and my cell phone is in it. Can you give me a hand?”

“I'll call hospital security. They should be able to open the car for you.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” The man smiled again, moving closer, his green eyes feverishly bright. “It's just one of those days, you know?”

“Yeah.” Nikolai pulled the cell phone from his pocket, pressing numbers without losing eye contact. There was nothing in the other man's gaze, just an intensity that Nikolai had seen in another city in another country in what sometimes felt like another lifetime.

“Once a day starts bad. It just keeps getting worse,” the man said, his muscles tightening, giving his intentions away as he reached beneath his jacket.

Nikolai didn't wait to see what he was reaching for. He didn't question the instincts that had him diving across the distance that separated them, slamming the other man to the ground.

They landed with a crash, sliding across the pavement, Nikolai's cell phone clattering to the ground. He thought
he heard a faint voice and hoped he'd connected to a 911 operator.

The guy wasn't muscular, but he had an unnatural strength that might have been fed by drugs or adrenaline or a combination of both.

“Let me go, man. Are you nuts?” The panted question would have made Nikolai hesitate if he hadn't been so sure of what he'd seen in the other man's eyes.

“No. And I'm not stupid, either.” He strong-armed the guy onto his stomach, frisking him and pulling a gun from beneath his jacket.

“Hey!” The man twisted violently, bucking against Nikolai's hold.

“Don't give me a reason to use this.” Nikolai pressed the gun into the other man's temple, smiling grimly as he immediately went still.

“You had no cause to attack me, man. Give me back my gun and let me out of here.”

“You have a permit for the weapon?”

“Do you have a badge that gives you the right to ask me that?” He twisted again, and Nikolai pressed the gun a little harder into flesh.

“What's your name?”

“What's it to you?”

“It's a lot seeing as how you were planning to shoot me.”

“I wasn't—”

“Nikolai?” Jenna called out, her feet tapping against the pavement as she moved toward him.

“Go back to the car.” He didn't turn his attention from the gunman, couldn't afford to let himself be distracted.

“I'm going to get your phone and call the police.”

“I already dialed 911. Get back in the car.” The gunman stiffened, bucking hard against his hold, more desperate to escape now that he thought the police were on the way.

Jenna ignored his order, sidling past him and grabbing the phone. “Hello? Yes, we need the police.”

“You can talk to the operator
in the car.
” Nikolai took his eyes off the gunman just long enough to spear Jenna with a look he hoped would send her running.

She frowned and took a step back, but she didn't retreat. “A man with a gun tried to attack my friend. No one is hurt. The gunman is pinned to the ground.”

The sound of sirens filled the garage, and the gunman jerked, his fist flying up and knocking the gun to the side. Nikolai slammed it into the man's temple, not bothering to hold back. “Don't. Move. You even breathe hard and it will be the last breath you ever take.” He barked the words, and the gunman froze. Unlike Jenna, he seemed to understand the kind of trouble he was in.

A police cruiser raced into view, squealing to a stop a dozen yards away. The door swung open and an officer stepped out. Female. Dark hair. Definitely the same one who'd interrogated Jenna. “Mr. Jansen, please put the gun on the ground and keep your hands where I can see them.”

“I don't think that's a good idea, Officer. This man will bolt if I give him half a chance.”

“Who is he?” She moved toward him as her partner rounded the cruiser.

“That's what I was trying to find out. What's your name, pal?”

“I want a lawyer.”

The officer ignored him, taking the gun from Nikolai, checking the safety and then handing it to her partner. “Let's bag this for evidence. We'll want to check it against the bullets that were found at the Romero house. Let's see if you've got any other weapons.” She frisked the gunman, then slapped cuffs on his wrists and pulled him to his feet.

The guy still had a feverish look to his eyes, his face flushed and slack. “I said I want a lawyer.”

“You'll get one. Read this guy his Miranda rights, will you, Joe?” She passed the gunman over to her partner who walked him to the cruiser, reading his Miranda rights as they went.

“Are either of you hurt?”

“Thanks to Nikolai, no.” Jenna clutched Nikolai's cell phone in her fist, her face parchment pale.

“Did he fire the gun?”

“No, but he would have if he'd had a chance.” Nikolai glanced at the gunman, wishing he could have a few minutes alone with the guy. His tactics wouldn't be legal, but he was pretty confident he could get the information he wanted.

“Unfortunately, we can't throw the book at him for something he hasn't done.” The officer frowned.

“You can throw the book at him if the gun he was carrying matches the weapon used this afternoon.”

“True. It's the same caliber, so we're halfway there.”

“Let's hope we make it the rest of the way and get the guy thrown in jail where he belongs.” Nikolai crossed the few feet that separated him from Jenna, but she didn't seem to notice. Her gaze was on the gunman who was being nudged into the backseat of the cruiser.

“I don't even know who he is.”

“What's that?” The officer looked up from the notes she was scribbling.

“I've never seen him before in my life. What reason would he have for trying to kill me?”

“We'll question him and see what we can find out, but he's already asked for a lawyer, and I don't think we'll get much from him.”

“Do you think…?” Jenna's voice trailed off, but Nikolai knew what she wanted to ask. Was the gunman Magdalena's murderer?

“That this guy is responsible for your friend's death? We're going to do everything we can to find out. Now, if you'll excuse me, the sooner we get our guy back to the station and get him that lawyer he's hollering about, the sooner we can start asking questions. Give me a call if you have any questions. Your case number is on the card.” The officer handed
Nikolai a business card and offered one to Jenna as well. She took it, her movements wooden and tight.

“How long will it take for the ballistics test to be done?” she asked, her gaze jumping to the cruiser. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, her cheekbones high and sharp in what should have been a softly pretty face.

“If we get this gun back to the office soon, we may be able to have the results tonight. I'll call you as soon as it's complete.”

“I appreciate that.”

“No problem.”

Jenna watched as the officer walked away, her expression blank.

What was she thinking?

That she'd never get her life back? That no matter what information the police received from their prisoner, she would never feel safe again?

“You okay?” Nikolai put a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened, then relaxed beneath his touch.

“Yes, thanks to you. Again. You've saved my life three times now.”

“Are we keeping track?”

“Of course.” She offered a slight smile. “If we don't, I won't know how many times I'll need to save your life before we're even.”

“Tit for tat, then?”

“That's an odd expression coming from a guy like you.”

“What kind of guy would that be?”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him intently for a moment. “Tough. Hard. Not the kind of guy I'd imagine using the expression
tit for tat.

“My mother uses it often. I suppose it's stuck in my head after seventeen years of hearing it.”

“Only seventeen?”

“My parents adopted me when I was fourteen.”

“And before that?”

“Before that I lived in another home and before that, another country.” He took her arm, leading her back to the car. Talking about his past wasn't something he usually did. Not with his family. Not with the women he dated. The way he'd lived, the life he'd come from wasn't something that he shared.

“That explains your accent. I've been wondering.”

“Have you?” He opened the car door, and Jenna met his eyes as she slid into the car, her cheeks pink.

“I'm sure people ask you about it all the time.”

“Only women.” And, really, only women he'd dated, but he didn't think Jenna would want to know that.

“I can't believe guys never ask. What about coworkers? Aren't they curious?”

“I was in the Marines for eleven years. The soldiers I worked with were more concerned with whether or not I could shoot than where I got my accent.” He rounded the car, scanning the parking garage as he'd done before. Still on alert for trouble. Though this time he didn't think it would come.

“Are you going to make me ask?” Jenna asked as he got in the car.

“Ask what?”

“About the accent.”

“Latvian. I lived there for the first twelve years of my life.”

“And then?”

“I was adopted by an American family. That didn't work out, and I was put into foster care, then adopted by another family.” The way he said it made it sound as if each transition had been as easy as falling asleep and waking up again. It hadn't been that way. Not by a long shot. It wasn't something he dwelled on, or even thought about much, but those years had been difficult. They'd honed him into the man he'd become. For better or for worse.

“That must have been hard.”

“It was necessary and, in the long run, it was for the best.”

“You love your family, then?”

“They loved me when no one else would. I owe them a lot. I'll do whatever it takes to repay them.”

“Love doesn't demand payment, Nikolai.”

“The demand doesn't come from the ones giving love, but from the ones receiving it. They are the ones who feel the burden to repay.”

“Do you really think of it that way? As if returning love is a burden?”

“To understand how I think of it, you would have to have come from where I've been.” He pulled out of the parking garage, not quite sure how they'd gone from discussing his saving Jenna's life to discussing his feelings for the Jansens. For the first three years after he'd been adopted by them, he'd refused to change his name or acknowledge that he was part of their family. They hadn't wavered in their devotion to him, and, over time, he'd come to believe that they truly cared for him.

“I guess that's how it always is,” Jenna said quietly, and Nikolai wasn't sure if she were speaking more to herself or to him.

“What?”

“We can't know why people are the way they are until we understand where they've come from.”

“So tell me, where have
you
come from, Jenna Dougherty? I'd have guessed you were the kind of woman to have married young and borne a busload of kids, but you've done neither of those things.” Nikolai turned the conversation away from his past, more curious than he probably should be about Jenna's.

“That was the plan. I thought I'd marry straight out of college. Establish my career and then have a few kids. Sometimes, though, the things we plan aren't part of God's plan for us.”

“What happened?”

“Leukemia happened. And then chemotherapy. And…”

“What?”

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