P. Alderman - A Killing Tide

"No way," Kaz said in a hoarse voice. "I'm leaving." She swung her legs over the side of the bed, then had to wait a moment for the dizziness to recede.

The nurse rushed over and pushed her firmly back onto the bed. "That requires the doctor's signature, and he's not available. Why don't you lie down—"

Kaz leaned sideways on one elbow, squinting at Lucy through her good eye. "Show her your gun," she said, sotto voce.

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Using one hand to keep the nurse at bay, Kaz slid until her feet touched the floor, then grabbed the edge of the bed in an effort to stand up. The nurse tut-tutted and waved her hands.

Michael cleared his throat. "There were no cracks in her extremely hard head, right?" At the nurse's reluctant nod, he continued, "I'll keep an eye on her for tonight. Hunt up the doc and get him to sign the release papers." When the nurse opened her mouth to protest, he added, "Do you really think she'll stay put?"

"Where're my clothes?" Kaz demanded, glaring at her.

The nurse threw up her hands and left.

While they waited, Lucy commandeered the only available chair, pulling it up to the edge of the bed. "Talk," she ordered.

As best she could with a throat still refusing to work, Kaz told them about the attack. "He was convinced that I knew where the money was."

Michael's eyes were on the bruises beginning to form on her neck. "Did he try to strangle you?"

"I don't think that was his intention. He was controlling me by cutting off my air supply."

Michael turned abruptly on his heel and walked over to the window, standing with his back to them.

Lucy watched him, a worried frown on her face. "Can you describe the guy?" she asked Kaz.

"Not really—he was wearing a ski mask."

"Height? Weight?"

"He was heavier than me—I'd say by at least seventy pounds. And he was tall enough to lift me off my feet, so he has to be over six feet."

"So six-two, maybe three, around one-ninety to two-ten. What else?"

"He was strong, but…he had a gut." She couldn't stop the shudder that went through her. "He used his weight to subdue me."

Michael turned to look at her.

"He had brown eyes, I think," she continued, forcing herself to think back to those moments when Ski Mask had had her pinned. "But it was dark, so that's just an impression. Thick wrists, pale skin…and dark hair, fairly thick, on the back of his wrists."

"What about smells? Aftershave? Was he a smoker?" Michael asked.

"Sweat," Kaz remembered, wrinkling her nose. "His clothes were…damp with it." She closed her eyes.

She'd been helpless—completely helpless—for the first time in her life. She'd rather face down another thirty-foot storm surge than cross paths with that guy again. "I think he was the same guy who was in my house two nights ago. This time, though, I did some damage."

"Of course you did." Lucy grinned. "Any rings on his hands?"

Kaz shook her head. "He had on leather gloves." She folded her hands in front of her in an effort to stop their trembling. "He said I had twenty-four hours to return the money."

Michael swore, walked back to the foot of the bed, and gripped the metal railing. "That's it. You're out of it, from here on." He turned his fierce gaze on Lucy. "I want her in protective custody—that's a formal request. I want someone with her every damn minute until we catch this guy. And I want her in a safe location."

"No," Kaz said, and raised her hand when he would have roared at her. "Don't you see? We don't have any time left. Sykes thinks he's closing in on Gary. I have to get to him before they catch him. We have to find out what he knows."

"He can talk to Lucy. I want you out of it."

"He won't talk to anyone but me," Kaz insisted.

"Tough," Michael said, his voice rough. "I won't have you hurt, not again."

"That's not your call," Kaz said evenly.

"She's right," Lucy said, and Michael swore. "If Gary's willing to talk to anyone, it would be either Chuck or Kaz," Lucy insisted, not looking any happier about it than Michael. "I questioned the junkie we found at the scene of the second murder again, and he's not still talking. I even threw the three strikes prison sentence at him as a threat, and he won't budge. After you two left the mooring basin, I also talked to several of the fishermen at the Redemption. No one is talking—they're scared out of their wits. I don't have any suspects, dammit, and Kaz is my only hope of finding some leads I can pursue." She turned back to Kaz. "I assume you're going to contact Chuck."

Kaz nodded.

Michael heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. "What's your plan?"

"To drive out to his place and talk to him."

"Won't work," Ivar said, appearing at the edge of the curtains. His long face was somber. "We found Chuck about a half hour ago in your backyard. The EMTs are bringing him in right now, but they aren't optimistic. Whoever got the drop on him beat him almost to death."

~~~~

Chapter 21

Kaz shooed everyone out and pulled on her clothes, gritting her teeth against the pain and dizziness that kept threatening to swamp her. She walked slowly toward the waiting room where Michael was waiting, just as Chuck was being wheeled down the hall on a gurney. She froze, taking in his blood-soaked clothes. One side of his face was purple, and his lips were swollen and split in several places. Splints immobilized his left arm and leg.

When she made a sound of distress, he opened his eyes. He lifted his free hand. "Sorry…"

She rushed over to him, holding his hand in both of hers. "Don't talk."

"…let Gary…down…promised…"

"No," she said softly, tears blurring her eyes. "You didn't . He understands."

The emergency room doctor who had sewn her up came around to move her out of the way. "That's all—we've got to get him into surgery. Now."

But Chuck gripped her arm hard, his expression fierce under the pain. "Get…away from…here."

She leaned closer. "Where's Gary, Chuck? I have to talk to him."

"No …" He shook his head back and forth, agitated.

The doctor placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. "I said, that's all."

Chuck whispered something, then started mumbling.

"Wait," Kaz said urgently, then bent down, putting her ear next to his mouth. "Say it again, Chuck."

"…boats…" he whispered, then lapsed into unconsciousness.

#

"Shut up. Just…shut up and let me take care of you for a little while." Michael eased Kaz into the passenger side of his car.

He'd almost lost her. It had been so close. From the back seat, Zeke licked the side of her face, whining, and she raised a hand to pet him. Michael leaned across her to fasten her seat belt. "For once, quit trying to handle everything yourself."

"We have to go to Bjorn's," she said.

"No, we don't. We're going back to your house, where we've got a police presence, and you're going to let me put you to bed. You have a head injury, and I can tell you're hurting…" He stopped and shook his head.

She laid a hand over his on the seat belt fastener. "Twenty-four hours," she said quietly. "That's all I've got."

He was so close he could see every small scrape and abrasion the bastard had put on her. Unable to respond without snapping, he straightened, slammed the car door, and walked around to the driver's side. If the guy had simply hit her a little harder…been a little rougher…

"Why Bjorn's?" he asked as he got in.

"I think he might know where Gary is."

"If I take you there, then will you come home with me?"

"After we talk to Gary," she insisted.

He wanted to rage at her for taking so many chances. But the blame lay squarely with him—he hadn't been there when she'd needed him.