Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (21 page)

Sirens wailed and I crouched on the ground where the passenger’s window used to be. I didn’t dare sit because of all the glass. As it was, I had wiped away a couple trickles of blood on my face from cuts I got when my windows exploded while I rolled.

The emergency vehicles came to a stop and I heard a familiar voice. “That’s Tess’s car. Tess, are you okay?” Jack sounded panicked.

“I’m fine; I just need to get out of here. They need to pull out the windshield.”

He came around where I could see him through the cracked windshield and then a light turned on as a firefighter set up a tripod with a shop lamp on it.

“Did you hit your head? Where do you hurt?” Jack started peppering me with questions, barely giving me time to answer, but soon one of the firemen came over with a small handsaw that cut through the windshield like child’s play.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked, when he could get close enough to touch me a couple of minutes later. The windshield was gone, but the top was smashed, making the windshield space too small to squeeze through comfortably, even with the glass missing.

“A little lightheaded. I don’t want to go to the hospital, but can I go up and lay in the ambulance for a minute?” I just needed a few minutes to get warm and for my head to stop whirling.

“Of course you can. We should backboard you.” He slapped a blood pressure cuff onto one arm. “Let’s see how that shock’s treating you.”

“I’m fine, really,” I said, though I wasn’t bothered by the cuff squeezing my arm—it would make him feel better anyway. “I’ll be seriously stiff tomorrow, but nothing’s broken. I know the arguments and all that, but I’m okay. Just help me get somewhere to lie down for a minute.” The fresh air and the reassurance of his presence were already working on me. Strangely, my head still spun.

“Vehicle’s stable,” a man’s voice called from the other side of my ruined SUV. “We’re ready to cut the posts.”

Jack’s mouth thinned at my insistence that I was fine—apparently he disagreed, but he wouldn’t push me. I knew it. He passed over a blanket. “Cover yourself with this. They’re going to cut the frame around the window so they can peel back the top. Glass might fly. The bigger hole will make it easier to get you out.” He checked the monitor after the cuff finished deflating. “Blood pressure’s a little low and your heart’s pumping. You feeling okay? Dizzy? Any new pain you didn’t notice before?”

“I’m fine.” The world wasn’t spinning quite as bad as before. I threw the blanket over me and leaned back against my seats the wrong way while I listened to the sound of the various cutters going to work on my Outlander. It was trash now, darn it. And I loved driving it, loved the leather seats and the way the inside heated so fast when I warmed it up in the winter—not that winter here was going to be anywhere as bad as in Chicago, but that was beside the point.

While I waited, I felt around and found my phone. I dusted it off, getting a glass splinter in my finger and scowling in irritation. Jack took my blood pressure again. He asked what caused the accident, but I changed the subject, not wanting his blood pressure to go through the roof. I didn’t think medical treatment was necessary. He acted calm and collected, but I could see the wild worry in his eyes, so I went along with it for the time being.

Finally they peeled back the top of the car and Jack helped me step out of the vehicle. Though I’d argued against it, they had a backboard waiting beside the vehicle. “I told you I didn’t want the backboard,” I said with more whine in my voice than I’d like to admit.

Jack’s partner came up behind me and put a hand on each side of my head, holding c-spine. I was familiar with the maneuver now. Jack touched my cheek. “I’m worried about you, Tess. Please, just for me? You rolled your car, you don’t want to take any chances, do you?”

I debated for a moment, then gave in. “Fine.”

“Good.” He took over my head while someone lifted the backboard against me. They hooked hands under my shoulders and guided me back into a horizontal position, then shifted me up on the board and strapped me on. “Just settle in,” Jack said. “We’ll take you up the hill feet first, which should give you a little rush of blood to your head,” he teased. “And make you feel less fuzzy.”

“It’s cold.” I was shivering.

“Here’s a fresh blanket—minus the bits of glass. We’ll get you warmed up when you’re in the ambulance.” He tucked a fresh blanket around me.

The rocking of the men walking up the hill was nerve-racking, but it was so nice to lay back and let someone else worry about me for a few minutes. I knew Jack wouldn’t let me get hurt.

Finally, they slid me onto the gurney and lifted it into the back of the ambulance. Lights glared down at me, and Jack put a blood-pressure cuff on my left arm. Again.

“I’m really fine,” I insisted, knowing what was coming next.

“This isn’t a needle, it’s just a little pressure. Don’t be such a baby.” His voice was low and soothing, despite the words and he gave my hand a squeeze. “It’ll be fine.” He clipped something on my fingertip.

“Your heart is still zipping at turbo speed,” he said a moment later, writing down some numbers, though his voice didn’t sound the least concerned.

“That isn’t from the accident, it’s because you’re near me,” I teased, even if there had been some truth to it. I had already closed my eyes; the lights hurt my head and it was nice to drift for the moment while I listened to him talk and felt his fingertips on my arm.

“I bet you talk that way to all of the paramedics.” Fingers brushed across my brow, the touch gentle as always.

I heard someone enter the ambulance and smiled at the thought of teasing Jack while he was on the job. “Only ones whose kisses make me feel like I’ve achieved liftoff. I can only think of one paramedic who does that to me.”

“Okay, this I gotta hear,” another man’s voice said. “In detail, please.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jack returned.

I chuckled and popped one eye open to see who had come in. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“What a shame,” the other man said. He was Jack’s regular partner, so I’d seen him around.

Jack did a head-to-toe check to make sure I didn’t have broken bones or pain I hadn’t noticed before. I winced when he touched where the seatbelt had rubbed on my shoulder. “I’m gonna have a bruise there,” I said.

“I think you’re going to have more than one,” he told me. “Your blood pressure’s dipped some more. You could really use some more fluids.” There was the sound of a zipper and I looked up to see him digging into a red case labeled ‘IV kit.’

“No.” But my voice was weaker than it should have been. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I think I do. Your blood pressure is really low, it’s no wonder you’re lightheaded. And as much as I’d like to claim responsibility for your rapid heartbeat, it’s because your heart has to work harder to get enough blood to your brain. You’re in shock and need more fluid so you heart won’t have to work so hard.” He kept hooking tubes and opening packages, assured in the knowledge that I’d let him poke the needle in me when it came right down to it.

He was right, of course.

A trooper stepped into the back of the ambulance. I didn’t know him. “What happened?” he asked. “Did you swerve for a deer or something?”

“Always blame the deer, don’t you?” I asked fuzzily, as Jack wrapped my upper arm with a strip of rubber. “No. Someone rammed me. They tried three times before getting me off the road. It was a big truck with one of those enormous grills. Pretty much filled my rear-view mirror.” No doubt it would show up in nightmares from now on.

Jack had frozen in place. “Someone tried to kill you?”

Oh, yeah. I’d been keeping that detail to myself, hadn’t I? “Sure felt that way when they were ramming the back of my Outlander over and over.”

“What were you doing out here, anyway?” the trooper asked.

I hadn’t even been thinking about that, but now it made sense. “I delivered a big birthday cake for a party that’s not happening to an old man who lives alone and whose birthday isn’t for another four months.” I thought it was a little hinky when I left the old guy, but I hadn’t imagined it would be anything like this.

Jack’s hands went back to work. When I glanced up at him, he was paler than usual. “Well, you’re going to be okay, so whoever set this up is a bad planner.” He reached up and brushed the hair out of my face and I leaned my cheek into his palm, needing the comfort, just for a moment.

The trooper nodded, then went to talk to the people who stopped to help me, saying he’d catch up with me again at the hospital.

“I hate that hospital,” I said to Jack as he taped on the IV line after getting it all hooked up. The ambulance started to move and the tire crunched over the gravel.

“I don’t blame you, but you’ll be okay.” He adjusted the IV line and squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt any worse.”

“Me too.” I guess I was finally on the right track with my investigation—someone wanted me dead and that only happened when I was getting close. Too bad I didn’t have a clue who it was or what I’d learned.

Since Jack called Honey while we were in the ambulance, she met me at the hospital. Again.

“What did you do to tick off the killer this time?” she asked after she’d determined I was okay.

“I don’t know. Maybe he realized we made a visit last night and didn’t like me poking around.” I lay on the bed, listening to the machines beep while the bag of IV fluid slowly emptied into my veins. The scent of bleach filled the air, making my nose burn. I really hated this place.

“But he didn’t come after us—he came after you,” Honey pointed out.

“True enough.” So how had he known I was making headway?

The doctor entered the curtained cubby where I rested. “Well, no concussion this time. You’re going to be really sore tomorrow, though.” He gave me instructions and told me to get checked out by my usual doctor if I had lingering symptoms. I thanked him and asked for my IV to be removed. They said my blood pressure came right back up once they got more fluid in my veins, which had caused Jack’s pinched expression to even out.

The doctor promised to send someone in to take care of the IV and he disappeared. A moment later, Jack returned. “Hey, what did he have to say?”

“I’ll live. I don’t have a concussion, so I probably won’t lose brain cells this time, and I can go home as soon as someone pulls this needle out of me.” The bag was nearly empty, so I hoped it would be soon.

He brushed his fingers over my forehead, then down along my cheek. “Technically, I pulled the needle out before I hooked up the IV bag. Now you only have a soft plastic catheter in your arm.”

“Sorry, but that doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, though having him linger over me for a moment was soothing. And his gentle touch wasn’t hurting either.

“How about this, then?” He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine, soft and tender, and way too briefly.

“That helped a whole lot,” I said, wishing he’d do it again.

“Good.” He straightened. “I ought to get back to work. You’ll be careful?”

“I’ll make sure she’s settled in and the locks and alarms are set before I go home tonight,” Honey said.

“Call me if you start to feel sick or dizzy again,” he told me.

A nurse entered and Jack greeted her by name, then moved out of her way. “See you later,” Jack said.

“Yeah.” I watched him walk away, and let out a sigh. I hadn’t realized it was loud enough for anyone else to notice until Honey started chuckling. “What?” I asked her.

“You. And Jack. You’re so cute together. He’s so worried about you and you just play right into it.” She pushed her braids behind her shoulder and grabbed my shoes from the floor, loosening the ties.

“What can I say? He’s adorable.”

“You can say that again,” the fifty-something nurse said under her breath. When I looked at her, she shrugged. “I’m married, but I still have eyes. He’s not only easy to look at, he’s nice and really good with patients. You could certainly do worse.”

“I
have
done worse,” I admitted, thinking of, well, just about every guy I’d ever dated.

“Most of us have.” She taped a cotton ball to the inside of my elbow where the IV used to be and folded my arm so my hand was by my shoulder. “Hold it there for a couple of minutes while the blood clots. I’ll finalize the paperwork and get it for you to sign.”

“Thanks.” I was ready to go home.