B.J. Daniels - Twelve-Gauge Guardian

The woman got in a kick that only missed his groin by a couple of inches. Her right hook, though, caught him squarely in the jaw, surprising him by the force of her punch, before he could grab both her wrists and pin them and her to the bed.

Her eyes widened in alarm. “You?!” she cried, looking at him as if she’d seen a ghost and confirming that she’d at least seen his twin before she took his pickup.

“Where is my brother?” he demanded, holding her down on the bed.

“Your brother? ” She stared at him as if dumbfounded.

“You’re driving his pickup. You’re in his room going through this stuff. Where is my brother?”

“I thought you—”

“I asked you a question.” He knew what she thought. Few people could tell him and Cyrus apart.

Cordell pulled her arms up over her head, secured both wrists with one hand and reached for his cell phone. “You want to tell me or the sheriff? Your choice.”

“Could you get off me? I can’t breathe.”

He studied her face. She was pretty but she hid it well with too much eye makeup along with a small silver nose ring and dyed black hair cut in a sleek bob that made her pale porcelain skin even paler.

“Come on. You’re hurting me. Let me up and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, seeing something in her blue eyes that warned him this woman couldn’t be trusted. “Let me say this again. My brother, where is he?”

As he started to dial 911, she said, “The last time I saw him, he was being taken to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened to him?”

“I’m not sure. I think he was struck by a vehicle in the parking lot last night,” she said, motioning with the snap of her head toward the back of the hotel.

The open drapes, the spilled coffee, Cyrus’s cell phone on the table and the 911 call to the sheriff’s department. Cordell felt his heart drop. “Is he all right?”

“I don’t know.”

Cordell shook his head in confusion. “Why did he go down there unless … You! You didn’t just witness this. You were involved somehow. How else did you get his pickup?” He could only assume his brother had rushed downstairs to save her. But from what?

She seemed to relent. “I was crossing the parking lot. I stopped, surprised to see that I had a flat tire on my car. Just then I heard an engine rev and this van came roaring out of the darkness.”

“My brother saved you.” It was the only thing that made sense. Cyrus must have seen the van and realized it was waiting for her.

“He shoved me out of the way. I fell. When I came to, a man who looks a lot like you was lying nearby.” Her gaze skidded away. “I heard sirens. I didn’t know what had happened. I was afraid the van would come back. I saw your brother’s keys lying next to him and took his pickup.”

“The sirens—”

“It was an ambulance,” she said.

“Did you happen to notice while you were taking his keys if he was still alive?” Cordell asked with sarcasm that she seemed to ignore.

“He was still breathing from what I could tell.”

Cordell couldn’t hide his relief. “Nice of you to stick around and make sure he was all right.”

She glared at him. “I’d had a scare. I didn’t know your brother from Adam. For all I knew he was with the guys in the van.”

He studied her. This whole mess sounded just like Cyrus. Maybe he’d even seen the driver of the van flatten her tire. The moment the man went back to his van to wait for her to come out of the hotel, Cyrus would have started to call 911. How, though, had the man in the van known she would come back out again last night?

“You’d just returned to the hotel? Wasn’t it late?” he asked her. She looked surprised he’d figured that out. “So why leave again so soon?”

“I came back to check out. I’d changed motels.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t like the feel of this place, too far from town and it’s old and crumby.”

Maybe she was telling the truth, though he had his doubts. He was still shaken by the news that his brother had been taken to the hospital after possibly being hit by a van to save this ungrateful woman’s neck.

Fortunately Cyrus was tough. He would be all right. He had to. And yet that foreboding feeling was still with Cordell.

“So my brother saves you, first you take off and just leave him lying there and then you come back here to go through his belongings?”

“I’m not a thief,” she snapped, her blue eyes darkening.

“What’s your name?”

Again her gaze shifted away. “Raine Chandler.”

“I’d like to see some identification.”

She shot him a disbelieving look that said she’d couldn’t show him anything with him on top of her.

He eased off and she reached as if to get something out of her hip pocket. The blow took him completely by surprise, knocking him back. As her fist connected with his nose, the pain radiating up through his skull, she wriggled out from under him. His vision blurred as his eyes filled. Blood poured from his nose as he reached for her.

But she was too fast. Through the film of tears, he saw her vault over the bed to the spot where he’d tossed her pistol by the door. She came up with the gun.

For a split second he thought she’d turn it on him. But then she was out the door.

He didn’t try to stop her. A few moments later he heard her rev his brother’s pickup engine and tear off, tires spitting gravel. No reason to give her chase. He was more concerned right now with getting to the hospital and seeing his brother.

Cyrus could deal with retrieving his pickup, Cordell thought as he went into the bathroom to clean himself up. He couldn’t wait to hear his brother’s side of the story. Downstairs, the hotel clerk gave him directions to the hospital.

“They’re in the process of moving from the old hospital to the new one,” the clerk told him.

It wasn’t hard to find since the entire town of Whitehorse was only about ten blocks square. The new hospital was on the far east side of town in the opposite direction from the hotel where Cyrus had gotten a room he hadn’t used.

When Cordell walked into the small reception area, the nurse behind the desk looked at him as if she’d seen a ghost. He’d gotten used to being an identical twin and often forgot about the effect it had on other people. They always did a double take when he and Cyrus were together.

When they were younger they played tricks on their teachers and even their girlfriends. The tricks often backfired, landing them in hot water.

Now as private investigators in Denver, he and Cyrus used being identical to their benefit. It was almost as if they could be in two places at one time.

Their grandmother had never been able to tell them apart, he remembered, then chastised himself for letting her creep into her thoughts. He knew he was just trying not to worry about Cyrus.

“I’m Cyrus Winchester’s brother. Twin brother,” he said to the nurse now as if that wasn’t obvious.

“Oh,” she said, both hands going over her heart. “You did give me a start when I saw you standing there.” She patted herself as if trying to still that heart. “I thought, ‘It’s a miracle.’”

His stomach dipped. “A miracle?”

She seemed to realize what she’d said. “I’m sorry. Hasn’t anyone told you? Of course not. Until you walked in here we didn’t know the patient’s name so we haven’t been able to notify his next of kin. Your brother is in a coma and has been since he was brought in last night.”

SOMEONE HAD BEEN in her room.

Raine realized it the moment she opened the motel-room door and saw the tiny piece of cardboard from the coffee cup she’d stuck in the jamb lying on the floor.