Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) (21 page)

“Did you need something, doctor?”

His focus jerked to the orderly coming out of the attached bathroom. Beefy arms flexed around a stack of linens as the overgrown kid gave him an inquiring look. He stopped between Mason and the bed. Out in the hall, footsteps pounded against linoleum.

He turned and ran down the blessedly empty corridor, ignoring the guard’s shouted command to stop. A shot echoed, and searing pain sliced his side. He hit the door to the stairs. With a hand clasping his side, he took them two at a time, his breath coming in gasps as he ran up. Odds were they’d expect him to go down. When the door opened below him, he stopped and crouched, blood seeping between his fingers. The guard ran down, his feet pounding the metal staircase as he spoke into his radio.

Rising, Mason sprinted up the last few steps and pushed open the door on the floor above. The elevator was ten yards away. Light-headed, he swayed as he hurried past the empty nurse’s station. Heart thumping, blood running down his side and soaking into the cotton scrubs, he pushed the call button at the elevator. A nurse stepped out of a room and glanced in his direction. Her eyes widened.

The doors opened with a ding and a swoosh.

He stepped inside and pressed the basement level button. Cops would be all over the main lobby by now. When the doors opened after endless seconds, he peered around the opening. No one in sight. He turned toward the back of the building and staggered toward the industrial sized laundry facility. Stepping inside, he grabbed a towel. None of the workers talking in a group near a bank of dryers even glanced his way.

Lifting the blood-soaked shirt, he pressed the towel to his wound and pulled the waistband of his pants up to hold it in place. Forcing his feet to move, he jogged down the corridor and out past the big metal door at the end. A ramp, obviously designed for deliveries, led to the street level. He took a couple of breaths to steady himself then dodged around parked ambulances. When headlights swung in his direction, he dived behind a dumpster.

Lying amongst rotted vegetables, he gagged and retched. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not until he’d settled an old debt with the woman responsible for his brother’s death.

He didn’t care about Sutton or Estrada or even his reputation. He cared about Grace—and making her pay. He should have done it a long time ago.

 

Chapter 19

 

Muttering to herself, Grace dug through her dresser drawer. “Nada. Zip. Zilch. There’s been no sign of Mason Rogers since the incident at the hospital three days ago, and frankly, I’m sick of hiding out.”

“We can’t let our guard down just because he hasn’t taken a shot at me lately.”

She turned slowly. Travis tucked his wallet into his pocket, checked the safety on his weapon then glanced over at her. He looked so handsome in slacks and a button-down shirt, she almost ignored the implication of his words—almost.

“What the hell do you mean, lately?”

Regret. Guilt. Irritation. The emotions flashed through his eyes so quickly she couldn’t be sure what he was feeling. Her spine stiffened.

He ran a hand through his hair. “He shot at me the morning after I got here. Don’t worry. He missed.”

She took two steps forward and smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. I was distracted, or I wouldn’t have said anything now.”

Her fist clenched around the small, silk purse she’d pulled out of a drawer. If she wasn’t wearing three-inch heels, she would have kicked something. Preferably Travis. “So, because you’re here protecting me, your life is in danger, too?”

“Who says he wouldn’t have come after me in Seattle once he completed his business here? We were both on that trail in Alaska, and I’m the one who saw him stick Sutton with a shiv when we were at the airport.”


You
said it!
You
told me he was here for Casey, and I’m just a bonus.
You
said I’d be safe in Seattle, which implies
you’d
be safe there as well.”

“Right now I’m not going anywhere except to dinner with you. We were planning a nice evening out. Let’s not ruin it.”

Grace took a couple of deep breaths. “Every time you walk out that door to take
my
dog for some exercise, you risk getting shot.
I
might pull that gun of yours out of its holster and shoot you myself.”

“You’re overreacting.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against her lids. “Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore. He hasn’t been around. Fritz told you they found blood in the stairwell and near the laundry room at the hospital. Maybe he bled out somewhere.”

“He wasn’t admitted to any of the other area hospitals.” Travis stepped closer and dropped his hands on her shoulders to squeeze. “We can’t assume anything. He may be dead, or he could be lying low while he recovers. I’m not going to risk your life on an uncertainty.”

“But you’ll risk your own.”

He squeezed again. “I’m a trained professional. He won’t get the drop on me.”

“I don’t know how that applies to a sniper’s bullet, but I won’t argue. Obviously, you don’t intend to listen.”

“Let’s go have dinner.” He shrugged on a jacket to cover the holstered weapon. “I’ll get the car and be right back.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

Tilting her chin, he kissed her then stepped back. His gaze roamed from the deep V-neck of her short, red dress downward. “You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thanks.” Fighting wouldn’t accomplish a thing, and Grace wasn’t one to waste needless energy. “You look—hot.”

His eyes flared. “You’re sure you want to go out?”

“You promised me a fancy dinner. If you want to get lucky later…”

He laughed. “I’m going. Be right back.”

They dined on Fisherman’s Wharf while they enjoyed an incredible view of the bay. Grace relished every morsel of her halibut while Travis ate a T-bone steak. Afterward, they strolled along the dock, stopping to browse through shops on Pier 31. When she laughed at a stuffed baby seal with long whiskers, Travis bought it for her.

She tucked her free hand through his arm. “This is nice, hanging out, not worrying about someone watching us.”

“I made sure no one followed us from your apartment. We could go different places every night if you’re feeling claustrophobic at home.”

“I’m okay with staying in the apartment most evenings. Despite my reputation, I’m not much of a partier.”

He stopped on a shadowy section of sidewalk and wrapped an arm around her waist. The breeze blew loose wisps of hair around her face though she’d secured it in an elaborate knot. Out on the bay, moonlight glimmered on the water, and waves lapped against a dock where sea lions snorted and barked.

“Who says you have a reputation as a partier? All I’ve seen is a hard working woman who cares about her job and her family.”

Grace leaned against him, taking comfort in his strength. “Because I’ve never settled down, my friends and family assume I go out more than I do. That, and I never date the same guy for very long.”

“Is that why Rachel gave me a pitying look before we left Vine Haven, because she thinks you’ll dump me sooner rather than later?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll have to show her I’m the exception to the rule.”

“I’d like you to be, but our relationship didn’t exactly start out normal.”

His arm tightened. “Whatever
normal
is.”

“Well, it isn’t waiting to get shot at. Normal is slowly getting to know each other, discovering common interests or learning we don’t have any and going our separate ways.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“I guess so, but at an accelerated pace. I’ve spent more time with you in the last couple of weeks than I have with anyone except maybe a few of my coworkers. Even my editor sends me off on overnight trips after a few days, just to get rid of me.”

“Having you around isn’t exactly a hardship.”

“Let’s just say I have strong opinions. He’s traditional. I’m not.”

Travis looked down at her and grinned. “I guess it’s a good thing we have the same political views then.”

She laughed. “I’m not rabid about things I can’t change. Why waste the energy?”

“You have a practical soul. I like that.” He turned and pulled her into his arms. Lifting her chin, he dropped a kiss on her lips then came back for a second. “There’re plenty of things I like about you. More than plenty.”

Her heart fluttered, and anticipation quickened her breathing. “The feeling’s mutual.”

His chest rose and fell. “Do you want to go home or stop to get a drink somewhere?”

Emotion filled her, something far more meaningful than innate attraction. A deep need to be alone with this man consumed her. She was falling in love, and it scared the hell out of her. She couldn’t remember ever being so
happy
to spend time with someone. Maybe the fascination would wear thin eventually. She hoped not.

“Home.”

Arms entwined they headed for the car then drove through the hilly streets, windows rolled down, laughing as the Porsche flew over a bump. At the pink townhouse, Travis pulled into the garage and parked. When she stepped out of the car, he touched her arm.

“Let me take a look around. By now, he must know where you park.”

The giddy pleasure of the ride receded as reality intruded. She pressed her lips together and forced back an objection. His need to protect her was part of who he was. She couldn’t change that any more than she could change her own drive to uncover the truth, to get at the meat of a story and tell the world.

Waiting in the dark garage with the stuffed seal clutched under her arm, feet aching from the heels she rarely wore, she wondered when her life would get back to normal.

“All clear.”

After shutting the garage door, she took his hand as they turned toward home.

“How do you know no one is around, especially if he’s lurking on top of some building or inside it with a rifle pointed out the window?”

“Unless he’s within this block, he wouldn’t have an angle. The houses are too close together. The park is different, open with a broader scope of paces to hide and wait. If he was around tonight, he’d be positioned in an alley or a doorway, someplace where he could surprise us as we passed.”

“Obviously you didn’t see anyone.”

“Not even a vagrant.”

When they reached her building, Travis punched in the security code and opened the door. Hand in hand, they mounted the stairs. The light in the hallway outside her apartment was out. Stopping, he pushed her behind him.

“Stay here.” His voice was a whisper.

Heart pounding, she did as she was told though every instinct screamed at her to follow him. She’d only be in the way. Common sense held her still, clutching the banister.

A muffled shriek echoed from above, and Grace flew up the last few stairs.

“Travis?”

“It’s okay.”

The door across from her apartment opened a crack. “Grace, is that you? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Elsa. The light’s out, and—”

“I noticed it earlier. If the landlord doesn’t replace the bulb, I will. Have a good night.”

The door shut.

“Travis?” She felt her way forward.

“Geez, Aunt Grace, you guys nearly scared me to death. Who leaps up the stairs like a charging gorilla and grabs a person?”

“Did I hurt you?” Travis unlocked the door and flipped on the entry light.

“No.” Lark followed him into the apartment.

“What the heck are you doing here?” Grace shut the door. “Your mom and I both told you now isn’t a good time for a visit.”

Her niece dropped her overnight bag and squatted down to pet Wylie whose tail wagged in double-time. When she glanced up, her brows drew together in a scowl, but a worried expression in her eyes belied the show of toughness.

“I won’t get in the way, and I needed to talk to you.”

Grace sighed. “I’m almost certain you have a cell phone.”

“If I’m putting you out…” She cast a sideways look toward Travis.

“It isn’t that. I’ve been stressed over work…and other things. I just thought next month would be a better time to have you stay for a while.”

“This won’t take long. I can be gone tomorrow.”

Grace smiled. “That martyred look doesn’t become you.”

Her niece’s lips twitched. “Even when you’re lecturing me, you’re funny. You’d make a good mother. When I told my mom that, she just laughed.”

“She
laughed
?”

“Don’t get all bent out of shape. After she thought about it for a few minutes, she told me I was right.”

“Hmm.”

Travis cleared his throat. “Uh, should I go somewhere so you two can talk?”

Lark’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to kick you out or anything.” She turned back to face her aunt. “Oh, my God, you’re all dressed up. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

Tucking her hand through the girl’s arm, she pulled her into the living room, snapped on a light and set the stuffed seal on a chair. Wylie walked over to sniff it.

“The date was over. Sit.” She gave Travis a little push toward the kitchen, her hand lingering on his firmly muscled back. Another sigh slipped out. “Why don’t you pour us a round of drinks? I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

“It isn’t going to be that bad.” Lark dropped onto the leather couch. “Oh, I met a friend of yours. He was cute.”

Grace dragged her gaze away from the flex of muscle across Travis’s shoulders beneath his jacket as he reached for glasses in the cupboard. “What friend?”

“He said his name was Archer. He was outside your apartment when I got here, and he told me you weren’t home.”

Grabbing the back of a chair, she clung. “Archer?” Her voice came out in a croak.

“He was kind of young for you, and…” She shot a glance toward the kitchen. “…since you’re with Travis now, I figured he was someone you knew from work.”

Grace focused on taking steady breaths. Lark was safe.
Safe. Safe. Safe.
The word echoed in her head. She wouldn’t panic. “What did he say?”

“Just that he was sorry he missed you.”

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