All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas (30 page)

The streak of blood on his stairs had brought him to a state of deadly calm, where events played out almost in slow motion. He'd been here before, and he recognized the surreal, almost-detached feeling. He would, if he was not careful, kill the man who'd shot Will. And not give a damn about it—not until later.

He also wouldn't give a damn about the fact that he was putting himself into range of the gunman's weapon. If he got shot, he knew he wouldn't feel it. It was and would be inconsequential.

As long as Robin was safe.

The door he'd kicked open hit the wall with a smash, and he heard windows shattering from the back of the house—Sam and Cosmo—coming to help him. In that long, drawn-out fraction of a second, as Jules scanned the foyer, he saw Dolphina crouched beside Will, in front of the door to the office.

He saw Robin, too, on the stairs with the gunman. It was hard to tell who'd grabbed who, but they were tumbling down together, and Jules's heart damn near stopped, because it seemed almost certain they were struggling to gain control of that gun.

The one that had just been fired, perhaps already mortally wounding Robin…

Jules leaped toward them, even as they bounced toward him.

“Get down,” he shouted to Dolphina, afraid the weapon would discharge again, and she moved, not back, but over and across Will's prone body, as if to protect him.

Robin had Jessop around the waist, but the man was struggling to get free, and Jules grabbed him too, shouting, “Where's the gun?”

Where the fuck was it? It wasn't in Jessop's hands. The man was a freaking lunatic, flailing and fighting—it was all they could do, both Jules and Robin together, to restrain him.

Enough bullshit—Jules hit the motherfucker in the face with his fist, cleaning his clock. Jessop slumped unconscious.

“God,” Robin said, as he flopped back onto the floor. “Oh, my God!”

“Are you hurt?” Now that the danger was past, the calm vanished. It was replaced by something far more frantic as he turned to his fiancé. “Were you shot?”

But there was no blood on him, nor on Jessop. Robin was just lying there to catch his breath. He shook his head, pointing up at the ceiling, where, indeed, there was a hole in the plaster. “Dolphina,” he gasped.

Shit, was she hit, maybe by a ricochet?

But when Jules turned, he saw Dolphina was holding Jessop's weapon. She had it clasped in both hands, and very accurately aimed at Jessop's prone body.

Sam and Cosmo were there—Sam taking possession of Jessop. Alyssa was in the house, too. She gently took the weapon from Dolphina as Jules grabbed Robin, as Robin grabbed him back, and they both just held each other tightly, but only for a few short seconds.

“He shot Will,” Robin told him, his voice breaking. “He needs an ambulance.”

Jules nodded. “We've got one standing by.”

Just like that, it was over.

Dolphina had let Alyssa take the gun from her numb fingers, as Cosmo knelt next to Will.

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Dolphina said.

“Yes, ma'am,” Cosmo replied as he looked at the makeshift tourniquet Dolphina had tied around Will's leg. “Send in the paramedics,” he roared out the broken door. “We're clear in here, but we've got a man down, in need of immediate medical aid.”

Then Jules was there, too, his hand reassuring and solid on Dolphina's shoulder as he smiled past her, at Will. “Hey, Schroeder. So that sucked, huh?” He looked at Cosmo, with Robin right behind him. Dolphina could see worry for Will on both of their faces. “How's he doing?”

Cosmo looked at Dolphina, then looked at Jules and Robin. “He's lost a lot of blood.”

Oh, God.

“Will,” Dolphina said, but his eyes were closed now and he didn't open them, as if the only reason he'd stayed conscious before was to try to protect her from the gunman. As if he now knew she was safe, so he could…“Don't die.”

“Where are those paramedics?” Jules shouted, and then, thank God, they were there, carrying a stretcher and cases of medical equipment.

“We need space,” one of them said.

“Will,” Dolphina said again, as she was pushed back, away from him.

“I'm still here,” he mumbled. “I wouldn't dare die. I promised…you…” He opened his eyes then. “Dolph…Maggie…She's at home…”

“I'll get her,” Dolphina said as they wheeled him out. “Don't worry. Just…We'll see you at the hospital, okay?”

Alyssa was there then, with Dolphina's coat. “Come on,” she said, gently helping Dolphina into it. “I'll drive you.”

Sam stuck his head into the living room, where Jules was giving his statement to the detective from the Boston Police.

The FBI agent had champion-class peripheral vision, and when he looked up, Sam caught his eye.

“Excuse me,” Jules interrupted himself to turn more completely to Sam.

“I wanted to let you both know,” Sam said, coming farther into the room, “that Troubleshooters and Team Sixteen have arrived. They're going to be providing security here at the house tonight—at least until we have a chance to verify that when Jessop said
we
it was only because he also thinks he's the Queen of England.”

Jules laughed. “Thanks.”

It seemed kind of obvious that Jim Jessop was a loner, and that his use of
we
was at the most more delusion, but Sam also knew that Jules was grateful to not have to worry about that.

Sam went back into the kitchen, checking his cell for text messages from Alyssa. She and Dolphina had picked up Maggie and arrived at the hospital, where Will was in surgery, getting his leg repaired. It had been a good hour, but there was still no word.

He was starting to get antsy. The reporter had pissed him off in that clumsy episode with Jones last weekend, but dying from a gunshot wound was too severe a punishment for his crime.

Cosmo was making coffee, which was a bad idea. More caffeine. Just what Sam didn't need. He'd pulled open the fridge and was browsing, when he realized that Adam was no longer sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.

Fuck.

He swiftly went back through the living room, and into the front of the house, but the little prick wasn't in the office, where the glass was being replaced in the window Sam had gone through, feet first. And, yeah, somewhat unnecessarily. Still, neither Jules nor Robin had complained.

He checked the first floor bathroom.

Empty.

Sam looked up the staircase. Adam hadn't yet talked to the police, and there was nowhere else in the house he could have gone…

Sam took the stairs to the second floor, two at a time.

Robin had gone up after giving his statement to the police, announcing that he was going to take a shower, try to ease some of the muscle pulls and bruises he'd gotten when he'd used himself as a wrecking ball to knock ol' Jessop down the stairs.

Boy Wonder had some balls, that was for sure. And faith, too. He'd shouted to Jules as he'd gone for the guy, certain that Jules was right outside—as indeed he had been.

The door to the master bedroom was ajar, and Sam could hear voices. Robin and, yes, Adam. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Bracing himself, he knocked on the door even as he pushed it open and…

Adam and Robin stood by the door to the bathroom, and they both looked up, clearly startled as he came into the room. It wasn't quite that they sprang apart, but it was pretty damn close.

And great. Robin wore only a towel—bath sheet—around his waist.

Adam was amused by Sam's discomfit.

“I was just telling Adam he shouldn't be up here,” Robin said.

“Yeah,” Sam said dryly. “I couldn't help but notice how you were on the verge of kicking him down the stairs.”

Robin's temper sparked. “I generally try talking first, before resorting to violence.”

“This is what your life is going to be like,” Adam murmured, just loudly enough for Sam to hear him, too. “Everywhere you go, Cowboy Sam here is going to be checking up on you. Won't
that
be fun?”

Now Robin turned his impatience on Adam. “Will you please just go back downstairs?”

“Adam, get the fuck away from him.”

Sam turned to see Jules coming through the open doorway behind him. Oh, good. Just what this happy scenario needed. Mr. I'm-Too-Jealous-For-My-Shirt.

Robin flashed Sam a look.
Help.

“This was my fault,” Sam said, trying to slow Jules down. “I lost track of Astro Boy and he wandered off.”

Adam wisely backed away from Robin. “Chill, J. It's not what it looks like.”

“I think it's exactly what it looks like,” Jules countered hotly. “Like you coming up here, uninvited, to hassle Robin and piss me off.”

“I wanted to see the new bathroom,” Adam lied obviously. “It's very nice,” he added, but he wasn't looking at the renovations, he was looking at Robin.

Apparently Adam didn't realize that, with the amount of adrenaline Jules no doubt still had in his system, he was in danger of doing a quick exit from the house, via the window.

The repair would be relatively quick and easy, considering the glass replacement squad was already working downstairs.

“I can't believe this.” Jules
was
about as pissed as Sam had ever seen him. “You come to Boston to ask me for help, you put Robin and all my friends in danger, Will gets
shot—
he may die!—and this is—What is this, Adam? Your sick version of
thank you?
What were you thinking?”

Adam didn't answer—he didn't need to. Jules answered for him.

“You were thinking
Let me take Robin's temperature.
” Jules was close to laying hands on the little bastard, and Sam shifted his weight, ready to keep the peace or at least play referee. “
See if he's starting to get tired of Jules.
But he's
not.
Because he loves me—a concept that you couldn't possibly understand. He's never going to cheat on me—not with you, not with anyone.”

Adam laughed at that. “Yeah, but that's not going to keep you from worrying about it, is it?” He turned to Robin. He had this way of looking at him—at anyone male, really. Sam had experienced it—as if he was mentally undressing him. “Doesn't that get old?
Where were you, who were you with, why'd you get back so late…
” He cut himself off and changed the subject, intentionally baiting Jules. “Damn, R., whatever workout you've been doing, keep it up, baby. You are looking
fine.
”

“Knock it off, Adam,” Robin said from between clenched teeth.

“You
might
want to put on a robe.” Jules had had enough, but now his anger reached out and smacked Robin.

“Yeah, Robin,” Adam mocked as Robin went into the bathroom to do just that. “What are you doing, walking around looking like a God, tempting all the boys, the way you do? Except, oh, wait. Word has it this new show you're in has an awful lot of nudity. Kinda seems silly to put on a robe when all anyone has to do to get an eyeful is turn on their TV.” He turned to Jules. “News flash, J. You're going to have to get used to sharing. And not just figuratively, but literally, too. Man, all those love scenes he's been shooting with all those hot, young actors…That must be driving you mad.”

Uh-oh.

Robin came out of the bathroom in a thick, dark blue bathrobe. “I asked you to leave when you first came in”—he got in Adam's face—“but now I'm
telling
you to leave, or I
will
throw you down the stairs.”

“Of course, maybe you're into it,” Adam told Robin, not backing down. “Watching Jules squirm when you show him the dailies and…Ah,” he said as he correctly read Robin's surprise, “
that's
how he's handling it. He hasn't been watching the dailies. He's just been
imagining
what you've been up to, eating himself alive with jealousy.”