Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 2 of 2 (16 page)

Tyler squinched up his face in curious frown. “Mom, what's a jackass?”

Katie squeezed her lips together to stifle her laugh at the innocent question. But a smile erupted anyway, and she walked Tyler around the ironing board to Trent. “You can explain that one, Detective.”

“Sorry.”

The stricken look on his rugged face stretched her smile farther. Feeling strengthened by his presence and taking pity on his uncharacteristic distress, Katie braced a hand on Trent's shoulder and stretched up on tiptoe. She didn't second-guess the impulse—she simply did what felt like the right thing to do. She slipped her fingers beneath his collar and slanted his head down to seal her lips over his. She might have started the kiss, but his warm, firm lips quickly moved over hers, completing it. The kiss was brief, and the link between the two of them warmed Katie all the way down to her toes. Trent's eyes were smiling above hers when he lifted his head. “So that's what I have to do to get your attention? Get in trouble?”

“You've always had my attention, Trent. I guess it's just taken me a long time to work up the courage to do something about it.”

He combed his fingers through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “I'm willing to take it slow, as long as I know you're on the path with me.”

When he leaned in to kiss her again, they both suddenly became aware of the nine-year-old tilting his gaze from one to the other, silently observing the teasing, intimate exchange.

Trent cleared his throat and pulled away, probably worried that he was going to have to explain what was happening between his mother and best friend, too. “Mom, did you mail my letter to Santa?” Tyler asked.

Katie offered a nervous chuckle in lieu of an answer. What was going through that wise little man's mind now? “It's getting late.”

Trent nodded. With a hand on her son's shoulder, he scooped up Tyler's book bag and coat and marched him toward the door. “I'll keep Tyler busy so you can finish up faster.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He nodded and helped Tyler into his blue coat. “Come on, buddy. Let's bundle up.”

“Is
jackass
a naughty word?” Tyler asked, following his big buddy into the backstage area without question.

“Let's talk.”

Several minutes later, Katie had unplugged the iron and hung up the shirts, and even Francis's wrinkled costume, when her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out to read a text from Trent.

We're outside. Distracting Ty with snowball fight. Hurry. I'm losing.

Grinning, Katie pulled on her stocking cap and coat and looped her flowered bag over her shoulder before texting a response.

Thanks. On my way. Duck. ;)

She knew a split second of panic when she turned off the light in the greenroom and stepped into the darkness backstage. The work lights were off on the stage and the running lights had been disconnected. She was in utter darkness. Her audible gasp echoed through the storage and work space.

“Is someone there?” a voice asked. Doug Price. As much as she hated to cast him as any kind of rescuer, she couldn't stand to be trapped in the dark again.

“Hello?” she called out. “Please tell me you're near a light switch.”

She heard a shuffle of movement, and then a light came on by the exit door. Doug had set his briefcase on a chair and opened it to stuff his director's notebook inside and pull out his cap and gloves. “Over here, Katie. I'm sorry. I thought I was the last one here. I was just locking up.”

What had he been doing that he hadn't seen the ambient light from the greenroom on the opposite side of the stage when she'd opened the door? And how had he made his way through the darkness back here? Ultimately, it didn't matter. She just wanted out of this place. “I'm sure I'm the last one now. Thanks for waiting.”

Katie wove her way through the prop tables and set pieces that had been such obstacles in the darkness. Not that she completely trusted Doug after the things Francis had said, but she was anxious to get out into the open, eager to get to Trent and her son. But as Doug pulled his keys from the briefcase, they caught on some papers inside, and a thick manila envelope folded in half dropped out. Katie bent down to pick it up. It was heavy, as though there was a stack of large photographs or a couple of magazines inside. “Here. You dropped—”

“I'll take that.” Doug snatched it from her hand. He quickly stuffed it into his briefcase and closed it. He took a deep breath, calming the brief outburst. “I'm sorry. Thank you.”

Perhaps she was broadcasting her discomfort at being alone with the man, because Doug offered her a courteous nod and pushed open the steel door to a blast of swirling flakes and cold air. “Is it snowing again?” she asked.

“I think it helps set the mood for the play, don't you agree?” Hearing the squeals of a laughing child carried on the wind, Katie quickly slipped out past Doug. She spotted Trent and Tyler down by the footbridge, pelting each other with snowballs. She smiled and headed toward them, considering joining the fun, when Doug turned the key in the lock. “Hold up, dear. I'll walk you to your car.”

Trent saw her and waved just before a dollop of snow hit the middle of his chest. He scooped Tyler up off his feet and jogged up the hill as Katie made her excuses. “That's very gallant of you, Doug. But my friend Trent is still here.”

“Yes, of course.” He switched his briefcase to the opposite hand, away from Trent's approach.

Maybe there was nothing suspicious about his behavior at all, and she was the one being paranoid. “Well, thanks. Only one rehearsal left.”

Doug nodded. “We have a great show. Remember the cast party this weekend. I'd love to see you there.” Trent arrived and set Tyler on his feet. The two were a pair of snow-dusted clothes and ruddy cheeks, demanding she smile at their boyish behavior. Doug seemed less amused. “You're welcome to come along, too, Detective. If you like that sort of thing.”

Trent clapped his gloved hands together, throwing out a cloud of snow. “Oh, I love a good party.”

“Yes, well, good night.” Doug brushed away the few snowflakes that had fallen onto his shoulders and walked around the corner of the building to his car. She heard his engine start before she would have expected and the cold motor shifting into gear before driving away in a rush.

“It's a good thing he's a director,” Trent deadpanned, “because he's not a very good actor. I don't believe he really wants me to come to your cast party.”

“I guess he's in a hurry to find another date, then.” Katie laughed out loud, feeling the stress of the day and those disturbing encounters with Francis Sergel and Doug Price dissipate. She dropped her arm around Tyler's shoulders, linked her elbow with Trent's and led the way to the parking lot. “Come on, you two. Let's get your truck warmed up before all that snow soaks through to your skin and freezes you.”

But she slowed her steps when she saw the other two cars left in the lot. They weren't campus police vehicles, and everyone else from the play had left already. Hadn't they? She eyed the silver sedan with the tinted windows parked near the exit, and the small black car parked beneath the nearest street lamp. Its engine was running, as though someone had parked close to the theater and was waiting to pick up a passenger. Only there was no driver inside.

She didn't have to be a cop to know that something wasn't right. “Trent? Doug and I were the last ones out of the theater.”

Trent's hand on her arm stopped her. He pulled out his keys and thrust them into her hand. “Get in my truck and lock yourself inside.”

He lifted his coat and pulled out his gun, too. Katie automatically pulled Tyler away from the weapon. “Trent?”

“Black sports car.” He braced his gun between his hands and pointed it toward the car with the running engine. “The license plate matches. Call Max and tell him I located John Smith's car.”

The man who'd tried to break into her apartment. “That's him? Why is he—”

“Go.” Trent waved her toward his pickup and circled around to approach the car from the rear.

Katie hugged Tyler to her side and backed away. But not before she saw the hand on the steering wheel.

A bloody hand.

“Trent?” She pushed Tyler behind her and inched forward with a ghoulish curiosity. The man was injured. He needed help. No, she just needed answers. She wanted to ask him why he'd been terrorizing her. “Oh, my God.”

There'd be no answers tonight. She saw the body slumped over in the front seat. She saw all the blood on his clothes and the car's upholstery.

She clutched Tyler's face against her chest and spun him away from the gruesome sight as Trent opened the car door and checked for a pulse. “Is that John Smith? Is he...?”

Trent nodded and pulled up his coat to holster his weapon. He held up two fingers, indicating the man had been shot twice, and mouthed the word
dead
.

“What's going on?” Tyler's question came from the face muffled against her breast. “Is that guy sleeping?”

With a heart that was heavy with the knowledge that her son had been anywhere close to this kind of violence, Katie exchanged a silent message with Trent and pulled Tyler toward the heavy-duty pickup with her.

“Katie! Get down!”

Katie heard three little whiffs of sound before Trent came charging around the sports car. By the time she saw the tiny explosions of snow spitting up from the pavement and heard a car door slam, Trent's arms were around her and Tyler, pushing them into a run. “Go, go, go! Run, buddy!”

Someone by the silver car was shooting at them.

When the side mirror shattered, Katie screamed. Trent swept Tyler up into his arms and grabbed Katie's hand, jerking her into a detour from the path of the bullets. “Into the trees!”

Mimicking his crouched posture, Katie pumped her legs as fast as they would go. They zigzagged over the open pavement, taking the shortest path to cover. Katie nearly toppled when they plunged into the snow beyond the curb. It suddenly felt as if she was running in water, pulling her boots out of the sucking, frozen drifts. A bare branch splintered beside them, shooting icy crystals and shards of wood into their faces. Trent muttered a curse and jerked them away from the pelting cascade. She felt the blow of something hard against her hip and stumbled, but Trent's strong arm held her upright and kept her moving. When they reached the fallen trunk of an old oak, he leaped over the mound of rough wood, dead branches and snow and pulled Katie over the trunk with them.

She landed on her bottom, sinking waist-deep into a drift of snow. Trent shoved Tyler into her arms as another thwap of a bullet hit the far side of the tree trunk. “Stay down! Keep him covered!” he ordered.

Katie was already pulling Tyler beneath her, rolling onto her stomach on top of him and digging down into her bag for her phone. Trent peeked over the top of the tree trunk, drawing two more shots that smacked into the old wood before he ducked back down and drew his gun. Katie punched in 9-1-1 as Trent rose up again and fired off several rounds.

“Mom?” Tyler held his hands over his ears. She felt him jerk against her with every shot Trent fired.

“Stay down, sweetie.” Three more shots and the dispatcher picked up. “I'm at Williams College with Detective Trent Dixon. Behind the old auditorium. Someone in a silver car is shooting at us.”

Another shot pinged off a metal light by the sidewalk, turning a silver wreath into ribbons floating to the ground. Katie stayed on the line when she heard car tires squealing for traction against the wet, freezing pavement. A car door slammed and Katie's heart squeezed in her chest when Trent pushed to his feet and climbed over the top of the tree trunk. “Stay put!”

“Trent!” Katie shouted her fear as the man who meant so much to her left the shelter of the tree and chased after the car peeling out of the parking lot. She heard pounding boot steps as the ground gave way to asphalt. There were two more shots and the screaming pitch of a car sliding around a sharp turn and speeding away into the night. Katie reported to the 9-1-1 dispatcher that she and her son were okay, but that she couldn't see if Trent or anyone else had been hurt. “There's a dead body here, too. A man who's been shot. Probably by whoever was in the silver car. Send an ambulance,” she begged, feeling her extremities shiver with a mix of cold and fear. “Send everybody.”

“Max!” She heard Trent's long strides approaching them again and knew he was on the phone to his partner, giving him a sitrep on the shooting.

Although the dispatcher asked Katie to stay on the line, she stuffed her phone into the pocket of her coat, keeping the connection open while she dealt with the more pressing needs of hugging her frightened son and making sure Trent hadn't been hurt. “It's okay, sweetie.” She wiped the chapping tears from her baby's cheeks. “Trent?”

“Right here, sunshine.” He dropped over the top of the tree trunk and squatted down beside them. He stuck his gun into the back of his jeans before pulling her and Tyler out of the snow and into his arms. “The shooting's stopped. They're gone. There were two men. I think we walked into the middle of a hit.”

“What? I wonder if Doug saw it, too. Maybe that's why he drove away so fast.”

“Well, he didn't stop to call the police if he did. But Max heard your call on the scanner. He's already on his way. He'll get Liv and Jim moving, too, and notify the lab about our extensive crime scene. Everybody in one piece?”

Katie waited for a nod from Tyler before answering, “Wet, cold and scared out of our minds. But we're fine.”

They were all on their feet now, making their way to the sidewalk and up the easier path to the parking lot. Moving forward and scanning the area for any other unwanted surprises never stopped until they reached Trent's disabled truck. Besides the shattered mirror, he had two flat tires and a cracked window. He opened the passenger door on the side away from most of the damage and reached inside to check a hole in the dashboard. “Good. We'll be able to get ballistics and have some concrete evidence for a change. I got a partial plate on the car, too, but it was moving pretty fast.” He turned to pick up Tyler and set him on the seat, facing out, away from the bullet hole. “At least we'll be out of the wind here. I'm guessing campus security will reach us first. Then we can get a door unlocked and go inside.”