Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

Stairs. She came abruptly wide awake. She wasn't in the stairwell any longer. She was lying on a couch. She looked beyond him to see a fire leaping briskly in a huge stone fireplace that climbed to a rough-hewn beamed ceiling.

Definitely not a hotel room.

"Where am I?"

He set the glass down on the end table. "At a lodge in the mountains."

"What?"

"The situation was heating up. It was necessary that I get you out of sight for a while."

She sat up on the couch. "Who the hell are you?"

"Judd Morgan. Don't worry, I'm no threat to you."

And she was supposed to believe him? Even when she'd been only half conscious she was aware of-what? Coldness, confidence, an overpowering presence.

He nodded as he saw her expression. "Considering the company you've been keeping lately, I don't wonder you're suspicious. But if I'd meant you any harm, I'd have had every opportunity to put you down while you were sleeping."

"And why was I sleeping? I felt perfectly normal. I shouldn't have fallen-"

"Just a harmless sedative, but it kept you out for the length of time I needed it to. I had to get you out of there and in a safe environment, and that was the most efficient way to do it."

"A sedative? You knocked me out?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, the most innocuous way of accomplishing an end. Even the headache will be gone soon."

"Why would you do that?" A phrase suddenly sank home. "Safe environment?" Anger was quickly replacing the shock. "My God, are you with the police or FBI? I told them I wouldn't go along with-" He was shaking his head. "Then why the devil would you do something like this?"

"John Logan made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

She looked at him incredulously. "He paid you to do this?" "Well, he didn't tell me to snatch you. Only to make sure you were safe and his wife would know that." He smiled. "Un fortunately, I couldn't do one without the other."

"You bastard. Kidnapping is a federal offense."

He nodded. "So I've heard." He moved across the room toward the kitchenette. "I've got a stew on the stove. It should be ready in fifteen minutes if you want to wash up."

"I don't want to wash up. I'm getting out of here."

He shook his head. "Sorry, not possible. You don't know where you are, and I have the keys to the Land Rover outside.

You could try to walk, but it's started to snow and you'd probably not make it to anywhere near civilization before you got hypothermia." He glanced at her handbag lying on the coffee table. "Oh, and I took the gun and telephone out of your bag. I didn't think photographers carried deadly weapons as a rule, but I guess your work has taken you into some hot spots." He moved over to the stove. "Fifteen minutes."

She stared at Morgan in rage and frustration. She wanted to murder him. "They'll be looking for you. Leopold was sending an officer to meet me in the lobby."

He nodded.

"I'm not going to put up with this. I won't be kept a prisoner so some son of a bitch like you can earn a few bucks."

He didn't answer.

She had another thought. "Jesus, you set that hotel on fire, didn't you?"

"Just your rental car in the parking garage. I parked it far enough away from the other cars so that it wouldn't cause more than a minor problem."

"Just? Minor problem?" She was working her way through the scenario. "You had it all planned. You were probably the one who called the fire department. You even had a fireman's uniform ready. Why?"

He didn't look up from the stew he was stirring. "I always believe in being prepared. Your father was a fireman. I knew you'd be suspicious of anyone else, but you'd instinctively trust anyone who wore the uniform."

She felt a chill go through her as she remembered how safe she'd felt when he touched her wrist in that stairwell. He had thought it all out and come up with a plan that had caught her at her most vulnerable.

She shook her head. "I still can't believe Logan would authorize a kidnapping."

"I told you, he didn't exactly authorize it. I just made it part of the deal that he'd cover any action I thought necessary to protect you." He shrugged. "There was an outside chance that you might not even have had to know I was around. But when I saw the way the situation was shaping up, I knew I had to get you away."

"I don't need you. I'm being protected by the police."

He shook his head.

"Call Detective Leopold. He'll tell you. Hell, they've been following me for two days."

"I know. Blue Toyota. Two officers."

She nodded. "One even followed me back to the hotel tonight."

He shook his head. "They were taken out in the parking lot across from the precinct while you were inside this afternoon. The Toyota was driven out of the parking lot fifteen minutes after you went into the precinct, but not by the same men who drove it in. They went to the hotel and the driver left his partner there to do some fine-tuning to the elevator, then went back to the parking lot and waited for you to come out."

"What?"

"They were both very good, very professional. I was im pressed."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You're saying that they killed the officers who were following me and took their place?"

He nodded. "There wasn't time or opportunity to get rid of the bodies, so I imagine they're in the trunk of the Toyota." She shook her head. "I don't believe you."

"You will. It will just take a little while. Why should I lie?" "I don't know. Any more than I know why you should tell me the truth."

He looked down at the stew. "Ten minutes," he said quietly. "Your bedroom is down the hall to the left. I don't have any clothes for you, so I put some of my stuff in your bureau drawer. You'll have to make do. I'm afraid I was a little unprepared. I didn't want it to come to this."

She slowly rose to her feet. "I'm going to make your life hell. This isn't going to be worth your while."

"You may be right. You've already caused me more prob lems than you know."

"Good." She grabbed her purse and camera bag, strode down the hall, and slammed the door of the bedroom. A moment later she was splashing water on her face in the adjoining bathroom. She wiped her face on the guest towel and then went into the bedroom and stared out at the heavily falling snow. Between the darkness and the snow she could barely see the mountains.

She doubted if the cold water was going to make her any sharper or more able to cope. She was still feeling fuzzy from that blasted sedative. What the devil had he given her?

Okay, try to think. This entire episode was like something from a bad movie. She went to the bed and checked her purse. No gun, no phone. Nothing that even resembled a weapon, unless you counted a ballpoint pen.

But there were probably knives in the kitchen.

She'd always hated the thought of knife wounds. She might not have to use a weapon. It was clear Morgan was intelligent enough to respect a threat. Play the situation by ear.

Logan. He was the one who'd hired Morgan. He could fire him. That was another path she could explore.

Well, she couldn't accomplish anything by hiding here in the bedroom. She would face him, learn as much as she could from him, and then find a way to get out of here.

Decker watched the two morgue attendants slide Lester's body into the hearse.

What the hell had happened?

A cold chill went through him. It didn't matter what had happened. The woman was gone. Lester was dead and the police would probably ID him within hours. Powers would be furious.

Okay, think fast. Damage control. Find a hook and wriggle out from beneath the censure and punishment to come. He had to cover his ass.

Find the hook.

He hurried back into the hotel.

____________________

"Sit down." Morgan put a bowl of steaming stew down on a place mat at the kitchen table. "You must be hungry. I didn't give you much time to eat dinner before I called in the alarm."