Touched by Lightning [Dreams of You] (Romantic Suspense) Page 20

The door opened, and another man leaned into the room. “Detective Sloan.” He nodded toward the hallway.

  Adrian fell back against his pillow. Devlin killed the woman Adrian loved, and he was going to pay the price for it. God, he wanted to die. Then he could tell her how sorry he was about everything. He wasn’t sure how Devlin had found her, but he had a bad feeling that he had somehow led him to her. Why would he find her now, after all this time?

  He thought of the last day he’d seen Nikki—it felt like years ago—when she’d met him at the shelter and brought him egg salad sandwiches. If Devlin had followed him, and waited, he would have seen her. Adrian pounded his fist on the bed, feeling guilt descend upon him. He would see the flash of those brake lights before the van erupted for the rest of his life.

  That could be spent in jail, he thought, as he remembered Sloan’s words about getting him off easy.

  The door opened, but it wasn’t Sloan who walked in. This time it was the nurse. She was young and pretty, with short brown hair. Adrian started to sit up, despite the aches that roared through his body.

  The nurse stopped, her eyes wide. She glanced at the door, then back at him. “Please don’t move.”

  He read her name tag. “You think I killed someone, don’t you, Lorie?”

  She approached slowly, a paper cuff in her trembling hands. “I ... I don’t know. I heard that detective talking to the doctors.” Her voice trailed off, but she took a deep breath and slipped the cuff over his arm. “I need to check your blood pressure.”

  “I didn’t kill her, Lorie. I loved her.”

  Her brown eyes locked with his, and he knew that everything that was in his heart showed in his eyes. He didn’t care.

  “It’s not for me to say, sir.” The cuff tightened around his arm the same way his heart felt squeezed.

  He touched her hand softly, but she didn’t jump. “I couldn’t have killed her. It would have been like killing part of my own soul. That’s where she lived for the past three years. I had to lie to save her, but he got her anyway.” He let his hand drop to the bed.

  Lorie stared at him for a moment, then shook her head and released the pressure. “A little low,” she said.

  “Lorie, will you do me a favor? There’s a guy in town named Ulyssis Garcia. He owns an art gallery, probably nearby. Please let him know that there is, or was, a dog in the house I was renting, and ask him to take care of him. I don’t want the pup starving while I’m stuck here.”

  She nodded, jotting something down on the corner of the chart. “How’s your pain?”

  “Physically, it’s handleable.”

  She set a piece of plastic attached to a wire next to his bed. “This is for morphine, if you need it.”

  “What happened to me? I don’t remember anything after the blast.”

  “A piece of metal sliced into your forehead. It was pretty deep. The force knocked you backwards onto the street. Five people ran out to see what was going and got hit with shrapnel.”

  “Are they all right?”

  “None as bad as you. You were closest.”

  He stared off, reliving those moments. “I was running to the van, because I didn’t want to lose her.” His voice sounded distant, even to himself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and he knew she meant it.

  He looked at the morphine pump. “Could I pump enough of this stuff to take myself out?”

  She tilted her head. “No. If you didn’t kill her, the truth will come out.”

  He leaned back against the pillows, his body sagging. “Do you believe that?”

  “I’d like to believe it.” As she reached the door, she paused. “I’ll call your friend.”

  “He’s not my friend. He probably thinks I killed Nikki, too. Make sure he understands it was Nikki’s dog, not mine. She loved that dog. His name is Crackers.”

  Lorie smiled faintly. “Crackers. I’ll tell him.” She took another step, then turned again. “I’ll be bringing your lunch in a few minutes.”

  Adrian’s eyes watered over the memory of Nikki positioning Crackers in Seamus’s baby stroller for a picture. It felt like a dream—she felt like a dream. Now she was no more than the images she had been in that tunnel.

  He tried to get up from the bed, needing to move, but found himself tethered by more than the IV. He pulled out the catheter tube, and then the IV. Before he could swing his legs to the side, Sloan walked back in. There was something different in his posture, his expression, like he’d just won a bet.

  “You found something?” Adrian asked.

  Sloan smiled, but there was nothing comforting about it. “Funny you should ask. The reason we got the search warrant for your house was because we found gunpowder in the trash you’d put out by the curb. Our guys found the photos and let me know right before I got here. They found more bomb making material on the back porch of your house. Adrian Wilde, you’re under arrest for the murder of Nikki Madsen.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Adrian started to sit up, but Sloan put his hand up to stop him. It didn’t matter; with his head swimming, Adrian had to sit back again anyway.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We also found a pipe matching the one that was planted in Miss Madsen’s van.”

  “Those were planted. There were no pipes at the house.” Adrian had set himself up by looking for Nikki in the first place, then by posing as Adrian Santucci for Devlin. Now someone else was setting him up. His mind raced. What could he do? “I want to talk to my attorney.”

  He would have to call Stan and ask him to find the best criminal defense attorney. He saw himself sitting there, like all those people they showed on the news when the verdict was read. How was he supposed to fight when he felt nothing, cared about nothing?

  Sloan leaned against the wall. “The only thing I can’t figure out is, why were you running toward the van before it blew up?”

  Adrian was seized by a feeling so familiar, one he thought he’d never feel again. Nikki. She was alive. He saw the hospital parking lot blur by and felt her fear. He got to his feet and stumbled to the window.

  Sloan reached for his gun at the rapid movement, in position to use it. “Wilde, there’s an officer outside your door. Don’t try anything.”

  Adrian thought of nothing, trying to focus in on Nikki. But it wasn’t a psychic vision he saw now. It was Nikki, struggling as a man pulled her into a van.

  “Get someone down to the parking lot, now! They’ve got her.” The white van veered around another car as it headed toward the exit.

  Sloan was irritatingly calm as he walked to the window. “I don’t see anything.”

  Adrian pointed, his pulse jumping at his throat. “There, that white van. Damn it, if you’ve got men down there, get them after it.”

  Adrian wanted to jump through the window, but it was several stories up. The van drove at a normal speed, stopping before turning onto the road and disappearing into traffic. He turned to the door, but Sloan had his weapon out.

  “What are you just standing there for? Get your men after that van. They’ll find Nikki and the man who tried to kill her.”

  Sloan merely smiled. “You just sensed somehow that something was happening and went over to the window.”

  It would all come out in the trial anyway. “Yes.”

  Adrian wanted to push by the irritating man, shove past the officer who had brought the news about the bomb making material. It was futile. He’d be shot down before he took five steps down the corridor. Even if by some miracle he made it outside, he had no transportation. Desperation mounted inside him. Nikki’s life was in danger, and because she was considered dead, no one would miss her. Devlin could do anything he wanted.

  Lorie walked in with a tray of food, and Sloan turned to her in surprise. Her widened eyes took in the tense scene, and she started to back up.

  Adrian’s instincts took hold, overruling sensibility and conscience. He grabbed Sloan’s gun and the nurse’s arm at the same time
. With a scream, she struggled, but he held the gun at her side. The officer rushed in with his gun at the ready but stopped dead when he saw the nurse in Adrian’s grip.

  Sloan crooked his fingers. “Come on, Wilde. This is crazy. We’ll check out the white van, okay? Let her go.”

  “Sure, you will. You’re convinced I killed Nikki, and nothing but the truth is going to change that. She’s in trouble, and I’m her only hope.” He turned to Lorie, who trembled in his grasp. “And you’re my only hope.” She gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Turning back to Sloan, he said, “Let me leave, and she doesn’t get hurt.”

  Sloan motioned for the officer to move away from the doorway as Adrian edged closer to it. That wasn’t good enough.

  “Set your weapon, cell phones, and radios on the floor,” Adrian ordered, and both men complied. Beads of sweat emerged on his forehead, and his body ached with every movement.

  Sloan muttered a curse, but he looked concerned for the hostage.

  “Put your backs to each other,” Adrian ordered. With Lorie in tow, he edged to the bed and gestured to the phone on his table. “Lorie, pull out the phone cord and tie their hands together.” Then, with the curly cord from the receiver, he tied their legs together, and around the bedpost. Finally he asked Lorie to make gags out of the sheets. Sloan’s eyes never left him, though, and Adrian felt his anger.

  He nuzzled the gun against Lorie’s side again. “Her life is in your hands, gentlemen. Don’t make me hurt her.”

  He saw his clothes in a folded pile on the counter and stripped out of the hospital garb to put them on. Challenging while holding the gun on the nurse. His shirt had dried blood on it, so he zipped up his jacket to cover it.

  They exited the room, closing the door, and he hid the gun beneath his jacket. As they walked down the hallway, he said in a quiet voice, “Lorie, I hate to do this to you. I won’t hurt you, but I need your help. I’ve got to save Nikki. Yes, she’s alive. She was just grabbed, right out there in the parking lot, by the man who tried to murder her. The cops are too focused on me to find her.” At Lorie’s confused expression, he added, “I don’t know who died in that van, but it wasn’t Nikki. Get your car keys, and we’ll calmly walk to the fire stairs and down to your car. Then you’re free to go. I’m just going to borrow it until I can reach a safe place.” He held her arms, tighter than he’d intended to. “Don’t screw up my chance to save her, Lorie. I’m her only hope.”

  She stared at him for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered. Then she turned and said, “Follow me. I’ll get you out of here.”

  Adrian was amazed by her natural smile as she passed her coworkers. She walked into the nurse’s station and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be right back,” she said, the unnatural pitch of her voice the only indication something was wrong. The nurses sitting nodded and continued working on their computers. Adrian and Lorie headed down the hallway.

  The parking garage was packed with cars, but Lorie went directly to a sporty coupe. She was about to hand him the keys but stopped. “I’m going with you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You want to be a hostage?”

  She shrugged. “It’s the most exciting thing to ever happen in my boring life.” She went around to the other side and hopped in. “You need my help just to get out of the parking lot. It’s like a maze. Go that way.”

  He started the car and followed her directions, relief washing over him when they pulled out into the sunshine.

  “You should drop me off somewhere else, so I’ll have to walk back,” she said. “That’ll give you time to get away before they can question me and find out what car I drive.”

  He shook his head in disbelief as he merged with traffic. “I couldn’t ask for a better hostage.”

  She turned around and dug through piles of junk and clothing in the back seat. With a triumphant sound, she pulled out a Miami Hurricanes cap and carefully placed it on his head so it didn’t touch the bandage, then positioned sunglasses on him. She rifled in her purse before coming out with four twenties and three crumpled fives, which she handed to him as he stopped at a red light. “I’ll get out here. Go save your girl. Wait until the gals at the hospital hear about this!” With that, she was gone.

  He stared at the bills until the light turned green and the car behind him honked. It certainly wasn’t what he expected, kidnapping a woman at gunpoint and having her donate money to his cause. He found the same Goodwill Store he’d visited earlier when he had decided to dress like a homeless person to find Nikki. It seemed like ages ago.

  He sat back in his seat, Celine’s prediction storming through him with sudden clarity. You may bring her even more risk. He had done that, by leading Devlin to Nikki. If that prediction came true, then what of the terrifying nightmares that Celine said were premonitions? He had to get to Nikki before ... the choking feel of the water made him catch his breath, and he jumped out of the car.

  He bought a pillow, a change of clothes, and two blankets at a thrift store. He’d have to remember to reimburse Lorie—if he lived through it. He only hoped he’d have enough money left to get him somewhere, anywhere. He’d never even taken a bus before, other than within the city, but he’d seen the advertisements for reasonable rates. The bus station was where Lorie had said it would be. The sound of sirens made his blood pulse faster. He couldn’t see any lights, but they’d be looking for this car.

  He removed his cap and bought a ticket, flirting with the older female clerk enough that she’d remember him. Grabbing up his stuff, he walked across the parking lot and found the bus to Panama City Beach. He handed his ticket to the driver, who eyed it before gesturing for him to proceed. The bus was about half full. Even better, the last seat was still available. Maybe the fates were finally working for him. Adrian made a point to make eye contact with several people as he carried his bundle to the back. He settled the pillow and blankets around him, pulling one blanket up over his head. He slipped out of the sporty, oversized sneakers he’d been wearing and pulled another pair out of his duffel bag.

  The man in the seat in front of him lifted his head for a moment, then laid down again as he settled back into sleep. Adrian waited a few minutes to make sure the man was really asleep again. Then he slipped on the cap, tucking in his hair, and put on the sunglasses. He took off the jacket, leaving the black sweatshirt. With the pillows and blankets arranged just so, and the sneakers at the bottom, it looked as though a man still slept there.

  With his new appearance, he made his way back up the aisle, keeping his gaze straight ahead. As he made his way down the steps, the bus driver barked, “We’re leaving in two minutes, buddy.”

  Adrian didn’t turn around but mumbled, “I’ve got to make a call. I’ll come in time.”

  “I ain’t waitin’ for you,” the man muttered.

  Adrian walked past Lorie’s car and headed toward Palm Beach. That was the last chance he could take. He couldn’t risk hitchhiking or being seen by anyone, even in his disguise. Not when he was supposed to be on a bus to Panama City Beach.

  He knew the police would send bulletins to all of the area airports and bus stations, and hopefully the woman at the window would recognize him. Then they would radio to the bus driver, who would remember seeing a man fitting that description come aboard. He would take a discreet look at the passengers behind him. There he would see the blanket that might conceal an escaped murderer, and the police would be waiting at the next stop. At least they would be preoccupied with busting him there and not concentrating on the local area.

  He walked into the men’s room in a gas station and locked the door behind him. Where would he start looking for her? Concentrate, man.

  Without thought, he sank to his knees. It was easier now to connect to her. He could smell her soft, feminine scent, feel her skin against his and the pulse of her heartbeat as she slept in his arms. She was his, and she was in him.

  Except nothing came. The realization chilled him through. He couldn’t co
nnect with her. Maybe it was the fear and adrenaline pounding through his veins. He had to believe she was still alive, but where was she? That strangling sense of his nightmare drifted through his mind. Time was slipping through his fingers. Could Adrian convince Ulyssis that Nikki was alive?

  The late afternoon rays stretched across the sky. He was going to have to take the chance that Ulyssis wouldn’t call the police right there. Adrian patted the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He wasn’t a violent man, but he was prepared to do anything to save the most precious thing in his life.

  The shattering explosion and roar of flames, glass splintering—Nikki froze as she watched her van become a roaring inferno. It was her nightmare all over again, but this time it was Maudine whose life had been ripped away from her.

  Fear paralyzed her as she stood inside the diner watching the chaos through the window. Or what had been the window. The last few minutes had tilted her world—again. Nikki had given Maudine the keys to her van, telling her to drive around for a while until the police left her alone. She had been battling doubts that maybe Maudine was hooking when she’d seen Adrian’s car.

  How did he find me? she’d thought as she dashed inside the diner. He’d parked right out front and walked inside, as if someone in the diner had tipped him off that she was there. Nikki ran to the restroom and waited to see what he was doing. When she cracked the door, he had been standing by the counter, just about to look in her direction. Her heart had ached, pushing her to run into his arms, but she had remained hidden until she’d seen him walk out.

  That’s when the explosion rocked the building and shattered the large plate glass windows. They fell away in a thousand deadly shards, making people scream and duck away. Nikki’s heart had exploded inside her, too. Adrian had been outside when it happened. She pushed herself to walk through the screaming swarms of people rushing away from or toward the ball of fire outside. It was as though she were walking through molten lead.

  She saw the van first. Her van. Flames licked out of the front window where Maudine must have been when it exploded. No, not Maudine. Why her? Then Nikki realized, as she made her way toward the shattered door: that horrible mess wasn’t meant for Maudine. It had been meant for Nikki.