Rebecca York: Sudden Insight

Jake felt for a pulse in the guy’s neck.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes.” He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a wallet. In it were a driver’s license and a couple of credit cards in the name of Eric Smithson. He also took the handcuff key.

“Probably the ID’s not in his real name,” Jake muttered. “Give me the gun.”

She was glad to hand it over and watched as he switched on the safety and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.

“We can’t leave him here,” she whispered as she stared at the assailant. She was still coming to grips with what had happened and what would have happened if Jake hadn’t arrived.

“You want to call the cops?” he asked, his voice hard.

She considered that option. “No.”

“Why not?” he pressed.

She’d always been a law-abiding citizen. Now she heard herself answer, “I don’t want to get myself connected to the Evelyn Morgan case.”

“Agreed.”

“What should we do?”

“Well, you can’t hang around here. Too dangerous. Can you stay with a friend?”

She thought for a moment and couldn’t come up with anyone she could impose upon. Not when she was hiding out from a guy who was probably a murderer. And she was pretty sure Jake could guess what she was going to answer.

When she shook her head, he said, “You’re staying with me.”

Undoubtedly what he wanted.

She swallowed. “Okay.”

“Go up and pack a few things.”

“You know I live upstairs?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t comment as she turned toward the door that led up to her apartment. Jake hesitated, then followed.

She stood for a moment in the middle of the darkened room, feeling paralyzed, her brain in danger of shutting down. Which wasn’t an option.

Grimly she forced herself into action, taking underwear and some practical clothing out of drawers, then throwing a few personal items and some makeup into a small kit.

After she’d stuffed everything into an overnight bag, she looked up to find Jake watching her and holding the gun he’d taken off the assailant.

“What are we going to do with the guy down there?”

He thought for a moment. “Take him to another location and turn the tables on him.”

“You mean question him?”

“Right. I’d like to know who he’s working for.”

“If he killed Evelyn Morgan, won’t he be … dangerous?”

“I think I can handle him,” Jake said, and she knew from the tone of his voice that he’d taken care of a lot of business she didn’t want to ask about.

When she started for the stairs, Jake held her back. “Stay behind me.”

He hurried down the steps, then stopped short as he reached the ground floor, muttering a curse.

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