Deadly Sanctuary (15 page)

There was a sudden rush of fresh air into the room so I knew the door had been opened. Immediate surprise flooded me and then switched to a stab of alarm. Instead of the expected flash of light from the outer room, there was only darkness. But, I had left the office lights on.

I felt a presence even before a shadowy form appeared in the doorway, silhouetted in the dim glow of the outdoor lights which streamed through the office window beyond.

My heart set up an awful racket in my head and my throat closed as the shadow advanced toward me. “Harry? Is this a joke?” No answer. “This isn’t funny!”

Clearly it wasn’t Harry. Instinctively, I grabbed for a weapon, anything. My hand curled around a bottle of fixer and I hurled it at the shadow. It crashed against the wall, missing its target.

With a small shriek I turned and made a lunge for the light switch just as something crashed down on the back of my head. Searing pain sent me spinning into oblivion.

Someone was shouting my name. I wanted to stay in the peaceful blackness, but a sharp, persistent odor interfered, straining to pull me from it.

“Kendall!” the voice commanded. “Can you hear me?” I labored to raise my eyelids but something heavy pressed them down. Sizzling ropes of green and red lightning flashed before me while a knifelike pain jabbed the back of my head.

With great effort, I opened my eyes. The blurry face above me gradually became recognizable. It was Bradley.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Was I? I blinked several times and tried to speak without success. When I attempted to raise my head, waves of blackness returned. When I came to again, Bradley was waving a vial underneath my nose.

I took a weak swipe at it. “Will you get that stinkin’ stuff away from me?”

“Ahh,” he crooned with satisfaction, relief mirrored in his eyes. “You’re back.”

Bewildered, I realized we were both on the floor of the darkroom, the cabinets, counters and sink far above. The globe that covered the overhead light was full of dead bugs. I’d never seen the room from this perspective before. Interesting.

“What happened?” I groaned.

He tipped his hat back. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

Still muddled, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

“I know you work here. I mean what are you doing here now? I thought you were in Phoenix.”

He cocked one dark brow. “I drove down to cover a story, I didn’t relocate there. I got back a little while ago and stopped in to pick up my messages. Instead, I’m picking you up. What happened here anyway?” he asked, watching my face closely.

I pressed a hand to my forehead. “I’m not sure. I was working...I heard the door open, and then I saw someone standing in the doorway.”

“Who was it?” His voice was sharp.

“I don’t know. It was too dark to tell. I remember going for the light switch and then
whamo
! I think someone conked me on the head.”

“From the look of things, it appears that you bumped the corner of this shelf,” he said pointing to the jumble of bottles, paper and the wooden board on the floor.

For a second, I stared in confusion. Could I have imagined the shadow?

I looked up and saw him studying me with searching intensity. “Why would someone hit you on the head?” he asked softly.

How could I explain without giving away my secret assignment? “It was probably my wild imagination.”

I made a move to rise, but, he firmly pushed me flat to the floor. “Just a minute. I’m not finished examining you yet.”

“Examining me? What are you talking about?”

“It’s part of my job.”

I gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, wait. Let me guess. Besides being a sports writer and a rancher, you also moonlight as a doctor?”

He grinned. “You must be okay now. Your charming wit has returned in force.”

I struggled to get up. “Answer the question. What do you mean it’s part of your job?”

“Be still a minute. And be quiet.” The tone of authority in his voice surprised me, and an unexpected sensation of vulnerability crept over me as I lay on the floor with him kneeling beside me. The thought of his hands exploring my body spawned a pleasurable tingle. Perhaps it was my weakened state or the fact that he was so close; whatever, I was overwhelmed with the sudden desire to reach up and pull his sensuous mouth against mine. My fingers would trace the contours of his face and move from there to his chest, then around to stroke the taut muscles on his back and from there, eventually trailing down to where I’d finally get my hands on those gorgeous buns. God! What was the matter with me? What would he think if he could read my mind? At that moment, I didn’t know what to think of myself.

“Your pupils aren’t dilated, so I don’t think you have a concussion,” he concluded, sitting back on his heels. “But you’ve got a good sized goose egg on the back of your head.”

“This still isn’t computing,” I whined.

He laughed. “Relax. Of course, I’m not a doctor, but I have had some medical training. I’m a member of the county sheriff’s posse. Search and Rescue.”

The sheriff’s posse! An uncomfortable shiver ran through me. “How well do you know Roy Hollingsworth?”

“Pretty well.”

“So…you work closely with him?”

He looked puzzled. “On occasion. Why?”

I had a hundred questions I couldn’t ask him so I replied, “Just wondered, that’s all.”

He helped me to a sitting position while I gingerly touched the lump on my head. I hadn’t imagined anything. Someone had meant business. Then it hit me. I’d activated the security system before going into the darkroom. If there had been a break-in, why hadn’t I heard the alarm? Why hadn’t Harry?

Someone must have disarmed it. I slid a suspicious glance in Bradley’s direction. Was it just a coincidence he happened to show up at this particular time? Knowing he worked with Roy left me feeling hollow. Could the shadow have been him? But why would he knock me cold and then revive me? It didn’t make sense.

When I stood the room swayed a little and he steadied my shoulders. “Thank you,” I murmured and then jumped when he quietly asked, “What are you up to, Kendall?”

“Up to?” I hedged. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You’ve been all over town asking questions about John Dexter. Why?”

I gulped. “How do you know that?”

“People talk.”

Damn. If he knew, so must Roy. Perhaps my charade about the runaways hadn’t fooled him at all.

Just then, Harry appeared at the doorway. He surveyed the confusion and stared at us open-mouthed. “What the hell’s going on here?”

I was surprised when Bradley told him I’d fallen.

“Christ.” he breathed. “I slip out for a lousy ten minutes to get a pack of cigarettes and miss all the excitement.”

I assured him that I was all right and he said good-night. At least I knew now why the security system hadn’t been on. Obviously, Harry had forgotten to re-set it when he left. But that brought forth a frightening scenario. It meant someone had been lurking outside waiting for an opportunity to find me alone. When the next thought struck me, my heart lurched painfully. I’d left the notebook containing all my clues lying right on top of my desk.

It took supreme effort to appear impassive as I hurried to my desk. The sight of the notebook resting beside my purse made me giddy with relief. I clutched it to my chest with a silent vow to never let it out of my sight from now on.

At first, it appeared nothing had been touched, but when I opened the top drawer, it was apparent to me that somebody had sifted through the contents with great care. There were just enough items out of place to tip me off. A feeling of certainty settled over me. This wasn’t the sloppy work of a thief. Someone had taken the bait and followed up on my fabricated tale concerning personal items left behind by John Dexter.

Bradley’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Did you lose something?”

I turned to meet the suspicion in his eyes. “No. I just thought I’d ah…I was just…a…”

“Thinking about rearranging your desk drawers at midnight?”

I dropped my eyes. “No.”

I sensed he was waiting for me to say something, and when I didn’t he persisted, “So, you’re not going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I…I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

It would have been so nice to confide in him, but I held back. “What’s wrong with me being curious about what happened to my predecessor? A better question is why aren’t
you
curious about what happened to John Dexter?”

Anger darkened his eyes. “He was a sleaze bucket and frankly I don’t care what happened to him after all the shit that came down on me, not to mention the embarrassment he caused my family. I’m just glad he got the hell out of my life.”

This was the opening I’d been waiting for. I’d read all John’s articles and, by their tone, it was obvious he’d thought Bradley responsible for his wife’s untimely death. He’d never missed an opportunity to fan the fires of suspicion.

“Do you want to talk about this?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.

“We were talking about you.”

Positive he planned to stonewall me again, I blurted out, “Bradley, I know what happened to your wife.”

An inscrutable look passed over his face. “So that’s it. I should have guessed. Well, that explains why you’re always so jumpy around me.”

“That’s not true.”

He laughed bitterly. “It’ll never end, will it? My screwed up personal life made for sensational headlines and kept tongues wagging for hours on end with tidbits of juicy gossip. Don’t tell me you’re like some of the stubborn jackasses around town who still believe all that crap about me?”

I hesitated and he growled, “Goddamn it, Kendall! You think I killed her, don’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“But it’s crossed your mind, hasn’t it?” His face was positively fierce and it frightened me. But mixed with the fear was a curious elation. At last I’d forced some genuine emotion from this man who always seemed to hold himself carefully in check.

I wanted to deny it, but all at once a wave of dizziness passed over me. I put a hand to my head and he was at my side immediately. “I’m calling Dr. Garcia.” “I’m okay,” I assured him. “I just need to go home and lie down.” Whoever had attacked me wasn’t going to have the satisfaction of knowing I’d been hurt. I knew the rumor mill would grind out it’s own version of what happened and the last thing I needed was to be the talk of the town. Plus that, I sensed that Tugg was becoming uneasy about my involvement. I knew down deep that he wanted the mystery solved, but how could he, in good conscience, place his old friend’s daughter in danger? The thought was distinctly unsettling, but I’d sunk my teeth into this story and I wasn’t letting go.

“I’ll drive you out there,’ he offered.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I think it is. I’ll stop by in the morning and pick you up.” The stubborn look on his face left little room for argument.

I could have put up a fuss, but I didn’t. On the way home we sat in awkward silence. I hadn’t answered his questions and he hadn’t answered mine. When we reached the house, he insisted on checking each room and then urged me to lock up.

I told him again how grateful I was for his help and he nodded soberly. As he strode to the door, I felt a pang of regret. Suddenly I didn’t want the evening to end on such a sour note.

“Bradley?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“This really has to stop, you know.”

“What?”

“It’s very shattering for my ego to have you constantly running around rescuing me. I mean, this is the third time in a matter of weeks.”

I was glad to see a glint of humor return to his eyes. “I’m just lucky, I guess. By the way, you still owe me dinner.”

“I know that.”

“Well, let’s see now,” he said rubbing his chin. “My fee for this latest rescue operation has upped the ante considerably.”

I feigned horror. “Don’t tell me I have to go bowling or something?”

His laughter lightened my heart. “No. Your payment will be to spend all of Saturday afternoon and evening with me at my ranch where I shall hold you in captivity until your debts are paid.”

Remembering my dinner date with Eric, I was relieved that he hadn’t asked me to come tomorrow. I gave an exaggerated salute. “As you wish, sir. I always pay my debts. And in the future, I’ll try and stay out of trouble.”

He cocked his head sideways and then said with mock seriousness, “I warn you, if for some reason I should have to rescue you again, the price will be much higher.”

I was half afraid Bradley would grill me with questions again when he picked me up the next morning. Instead, we talked about Saturday’s parade, and then he gave me directions to the Starfire Ranch which I scribbled in my notepad.

With gentle good humor, he teased me about my reaction to the Mexican food, saying that I should have listened to him and gone easy on the hot sauce. I grudgingly admitted that he’d been right and told him it would be an extremely chilly day in hell before I ever ate it again. He laughed and assured me that I would grow accustomed to it.

Some of the main streets had been blocked off to prepare for the parade so while he maneuvered the truck through a back alley to the paper I pondered over his mercurial personality. One minute he was dead serious, the next he was full of friendly banter, which probably masked his true feelings about a lot of things. Ginger had said that Stephanie’s death changed him. I wondered what he’d been like before the tragedy.

When we reached the parking lot I thanked him for the ride, but, before I could open the door, he grabbed my left arm and gave me a searching look. “Sure you don’t want to talk about your little episode last night?”