Marta Perry - Echo Of Danger

“My car is dead.” She glanced at her watch. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong.”

He shrugged. “I’m not much of a mechanic, but I’ll be glad to wait with you while you call your garage. Or my car is here, and I can easily take you home.”

Now she managed a smile. “The garage will have closed at five, and nothing short of a three-car pileup would get George Frazer away from his television at this hour. If you’re sure you don’t mind...” Deidre was already opening the door.

“Not at all. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?” So easy. She didn’t suspect a thing. Too bad the drive was so short, but at least he’d have some chance of talking with her. “I’m parked out front.”

They walked together along the alley toward the street, their footsteps echoing on the concrete. Shadows lay around the building, and it surprised him that Deidre didn’t seem warier. Maybe small-town living deadened the instincts.

“I appreciate the offer. It’s certainly time I relieved my babysitter.”

“Teenagers always have the meter ticking, I suppose,” he said lightly, wondering who watched the judge’s grandson when she wasn’t there.

“It’s not that. A friend of mine is staying with my son. I hate to call a teenage sitter on a school night, especially when I think a meeting might be lengthy.”

They’d reached his car, and he opened the passenger-side door so she could slide in, then went around quickly to get in and start the car. “It wasn’t my imagination then. It did go on and on.”

“And on,” she said, amusement in her voice. “I’m afraid it wasn’t a very good introduction for you. But typical. Everyone has to have their say.”

“Even if someone else has already said it.” He slanted a smile at her.

“Especially if someone has already said it. No one wants somebody else claiming credit for his or her good idea. I have a theory that the amount of work that gets done is in inverse proportion to the number of people on the committee.”

He had to laugh at Deidre’s dry tone.

“I shouldn’t laugh at them,” she said, shaking her head. “They all mean well. I just hate keeping Dixie out late, even though she insists she doesn’t mind.”

“Dixie?” The name rang a bell. “I think there’s a Dixie in my building.”

“The same one. Dixie James. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, although she just moved back to Echo Falls a couple of years ago. Speaking of which, I hope you’re settling in all right.” She sounded like a good hostess, checking on a guest’s comfort.

All in all, he was beginning to wonder if Deidre Morris, with her honey-colored hair and candid blue eyes, wasn’t just a little too good to be true.

He suspected a show of candor on his part would win her sympathy. “I don’t know if I should bring it up, but I hope...well, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I seem to be taking your late husband’s position in the firm.”

Jase didn’t think he imagined a hesitation before she spoke.

“Not at all. I know the firm needed another person. Trey Alter’s been overworked, especially during the times when court is in session and the judge is unavailable.”

That last bit sounded a tad formal. He should have asked the judge what his current relationship was with his daughter-in-law. If they were in a state of open warfare, he’d have to step cautiously.

He’d been wondering if he should mention her husband or play dumb. But anyone might let it slip that they’d been in law school together. Better play it safe.

“I was sorry to hear about Frank’s death. I noticed it in the alumni newsletter. Guess I should have sent a card, but...well, you wouldn’t have known who I was.”

She turned in the seat to look at him. “Were you a friend of Frank’s?” So that had caught her attention.

“A classmate. I was working too hard to have much time to socialize. But he was a nice guy.”

“Yes, he was.” She didn’t sound overtly mournful, but it had been about a year, and she was probably used to dealing with condolences by now. “When you see our son, Kevin, I think you’ll notice the resemblance.” She was smiling now, maybe at the thought of the kid. “At least, I always thought he looked like Frank, although Frank didn’t agree.”

“Frank thought he looked like you, did he?”

“He claimed Kev was Pennsylvania Dutch through and through. That’s my side of the family, the Wagners. You’ll have to get used to all the German-sounding names in an area like this, especially with the number of Amish we have.”

She was talking more easily now. He’d made some progress, despite the fact that they were pulling up to the house already. She’d feel as if she owed him a favor, and that would make it easier to pursue an acquaintanceship that the judge seemed to feel would pay off.

Jase drove past his own driveway and turned into hers. “I’ll drop you right at the house. No point in walking across the lawn in the dark.”

“You don’t need...” Deidre stopped, staring.

He followed the direction of her gaze, and his nerves went on alert. The front door of her house stood open. That couldn’t be normal.

Deidre grabbed for the door handle, and his hand shot across to arrest the movement.

“Stay here. Call the police. I’ll check it out.” He slid out of the car, not looking back to see if she’d obeyed him. Something was wrong, and there was a defenseless child in that house.

It took him seconds to reach the porch. Deidre was right behind him, and he didn’t waste his breath telling her to stay back. They hit the doorway at the same time, and he grabbed her arm, stopping her from plunging inside.

His gut clenched. A woman lay on the area rug in front of a sofa, blood from a head wound soaking into the fibers. Dixie, he supposed. The child—

Deidre gave an anguished cry that sounded barely human. She yanked free of his restraining hand, running toward the stairway at the back of the room. Then he saw what she had. That small bundle on the bottom step, tangled in a blanket, had to be her son.

* * *

DEIDRE STUMBLED TO her knees next to Kevin, reaching for him. Some rational part of her mind shouted for her to be careful, not to move him suddenly.

She had to hold him—had to know he was breathing. Sliding her arms around him, she managed to cradle him against her. His lips were slightly parted, and a gentle breath moved against her cheek. Relief flooded through her.

Please, God. Please, God, let him be all right...

Deidre’s fingers found a fluttering pulse. But he was pale...so pale that the faint blue shadows under his eyes looked like bruises.

“Kevin, baby, can you hear me?”

Nothing, but she could see the vein pulsing at his temple.

Someone knelt beside her, and she realized it was Jason. “Careful. Don’t move him.”

“No. His head...”

Jason bent over her son, seeming to trace the swelling behind Kevin’s ear with his gaze. “EMTs are on the way. They’ll be here soon. Two ambulances, I told them.”

“Dixie...” She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Kevin long enough to look. And now, when she tried, Jason’s solid body blocked her view.

“Head injury,” he said briefly. “It looks...bad.”

Deidre’s sluggish wits started to move again at that moment. Kevin must have fallen, but Dixie... How could she have gotten a head injury sitting on the sofa?

“What...what happened to her?” Ridiculous to think that he would know any more than she did.

“Someone hit her. She couldn’t have done that much damage falling.”

Amazing that he could sound so calm. Dixie had been attacked. How could that be true? That meant that someone had come into her house and done this.