Dana Mentink - Secret Refuge

“Let her go, Tucker,” Mick said. “You killed that little girl’s mother. In my book, that strips your dad status.”

“Everyone in this world is a dirty liar.” Tucker pushed Keeley away and she sprawled on the rooftop. Mick edged closer, between Keeley and Tucker. Now she had a chance; the playing field was more level. There was no way to win a knife fight without some serious bloodshed, but he could hold Tucker off long enough for Keeley to scramble down from the fire escape.

Tucker’s mouth twisted. “Listen, man. I know you’ve been helping them all this time to find me.”

“True. You’re a murderer, you deserve to be incarcerated.”

“I deserve plenty, but not the blame for killing LeeAnn.”

Mick grunted. “Save me the sob story. You’re going to prison where you belong.”

Tucker pointed the knife at Mick, eyes narrowed. “I thought you were different.”

“Because I was gullible enough to be manipulated by you?” Shame flooded his insides until he shut it down. “Take your best shot, Tucker. You’re only going to get one.”

“Don’t want it to be this way.” Tucker weighted back on his heels, crouched low.

Mick did the same, hoping his reflexes were a match for his younger opponent. He had plenty of hand-to-hand combat training, but his arm still throbbed from the wound Tucker had given him before. If he’d had a gun, as Reggie supposed he did...

Something sailed through the air and over Tucker’s head. He jerked as Keeley reached for another bit of broken wood that littered the rooftop and hurled it as fast as she could, fury convulsing her face. Her aim wasn’t good. Many of them plunked into Mick’s shoulders and one struck him in the cheek, but it was enough to get Tucker off balance.

As Tucker raised an arm to shield his face, Mick reached to pull her away.

A gunshot exploded from behind the pile of pallets.

Mick launched himself at Keeley and brought her to the ground, covering his body with hers as another shot sent bits of the concrete roof flying through the air. The bullets sent the parrots on the next building into a cacophony of panicked squawks and flapping wings. The air was alive with green feathery bodies.

When the shots died away, he dared to lift his head and look up. Tucker was not visible from his line of sight. He scrambled to his feet and took Keeley’s hand, pulling her around the back side of a ventilation duct, some small protection from whoever was unloading bullets in their direction.

Keeley sucked in a breath, face dead white. “Is someone trying to help? Or are they aiming for us?”

* * *

Mick’s face betrayed the same disbelief that Keeley was sure hers did, only he showed no trace of the wild fear that beat in her own heart. There was only rage in the taut lines of his jaw and lips. He held her wrist tightly, almost painfully so, crouched as if to leap up at any moment. “Stay here,” he whispered.

“Okay. My legs have turned to rubber anyway,” she whispered back.

His lips quirked for a moment. Then he was gone.

Keeley pressed close to the air duct, trying to steady her quivering muscles. She could hear the parrots still screeching from the nearby trees at the violation of their nesting area. She felt as if hers had been violated, too. First Tucker, appearing like a horrible nightmare, and then some crazy rooftop shooter. Was she dreaming? No, the convulsive squeeze of her panicked heart was all too real.

Where was Tucker? Even now, was he circling around behind her with his knife? She scooped up a board knocked loose from one of the pallets. It would have to do. If he wanted to kill her like he had her sister, she sure wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

The sound of running feet made her breath hitch. She readied the board. Mick appeared around the corner, a trickle of blood running from the wound on his cheek. Something had changed in the stern lines of his mouth. “Come on out.”

“But...” She found she was talking to his back as he strode toward the spot where Tucker had been moments before.

A dark-haired man with an eye patch stood there, one hand on his hip and the other still gripping his gun.

Mick bore down on the man, seeming larger in his anger, his wide shoulders like the prow of a battleship.

“You could have hit her, Reggie,” he snarled. His voice didn’t grow louder, but the man shrank back a pace.

“Not my fault.”

“Your finger on the trigger, your fault.”

Reggie shook his head and swore.

“And Tucker’s gone,” Mick added. “Made it down the back fire escape. Took off on his motorcycle. What were you thinking?”

“Please.” Reggie snorted. “Blame me if it makes you feel better, but I hauled myself up three flights of a fire-escape ladder because you are too thickheaded to carry a weapon. I made it up here in time to see Tucker with a knife and then Keeley starts throwing stuff, so I have two seconds to squeeze off a clean shot, only Wonder Boy messes it up.”

“Who...?” Mick started.

Keeley was flabbergasted to see John emerge from behind a ventilation duct holding a half-empty bag of pretzels between his fingertips. John’s eyes were wide with shock. “Tucker’s been hanging out here, on this roof.”

“You don’t say,” Reggie spat. “What I want to know is who you are and why did you interfere?”

John blinked. He looked at Keeley. “Are you okay?”

She was going to answer, but Reggie broke in. “No thanks to you. You dived at me. I could have killed her or Mick.”

John flushed. “I saw you start up the ladder. I didn’t know who you were. I followed you up and saw you take out a gun. What was I supposed to think?”

“Aww, man.” Reggie jammed his gun into the holster. “It doesn’t explain what you’re doing here in the first place. Who are you anyway? Maybe you’re working with Tucker, huh? Maybe you had a reason you didn’t want me to shoot the kid.”

“I’d be happy to let you shoot him,” John said.

“Then explain yourself before I throttle you,” Reggie shouted.

Mick raised his palms. “Let him speak his piece.”

“I’m Dr. John Bender. I’m a veterinarian, and I’ve known Keeley and her sister for a long time. I called Aunt Viv’s house to check on Keeley. Viv told me Keeley took a job photographing the parrots. There’s only one place you’re going to find parrots around here, so I knew where she was going.”

“But why did you follow me?” Keeley watched a wary look settle into his eyes.

“I thought you might need someone to keep tabs on you, with Rivendale back in town.” His chin went up. “I was right, too. Tucker might have killed you.”

“I might have killed her, thanks to you,” Reggie snapped. “You need to stay out of this, Doc. Am I making myself crystal clear?”

John stiffened. “Are you a cop?”

“Parole officer, and I know Tucker Rivendale well. Very well.”

“I know him well, too.” John leaned closer until the two men were close, glaring into each other’s faces. “He murdered the woman I loved.”

Reggie cocked his head. “I get that, and you’re desperate to be a man and be all protective and such, but you’re going to get yourself into trouble by poking your nose in. Stick to the animals, Doc.”

John started to fire off a retort until Keeley put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you meant well coming after me. Thank you.”

He broke off staring at Reggie to give her a nod. “I’m glad you’re okay. I would never put you in harm’s way. You know that, right?” He took her hands.

“Yes.” Keeley gave his fingers a squeeze and then detached her hands from his.

“While you were down there, did you call the cops?” Mick said to John.