One Week To Live (28 page)

She gently stroked his freckled face, once more thinking of the silly comparison between those freckles and stars. “But you did,” she said, wishing to reassure him as much as she wanted to be reassured. Clinging to him, tears of relief filled her eyes. “Thanks to you, I’m alive and so is Polly.”

Mopping his own tears away with the back of his hand, he bent and gently kissed her lips. Most men would be embarrassed to show their emotions, but he wasn’t. This tugged at her heart. She returned his kiss, savoring the lips she’d feared she’d never taste again.

Before more could be said, the ambulance arrived and whisked Angie and Polly off to the hospital. Amazingly they didn’t wait long to see an ER doctor. Susan hadn’t arrived yet so Angie sat on a stool next to Polly while the doctor examined her.

“Except for some scratches, she appears to be okay,” the doctor said, listening to her lungs with a stethoscope.

Angie feared asking the next question. “Was she…?

“Physically abused,” the doctor filled in. “I don’t think so, but I’d like to run some tests.”

Polly stared up at the doctor, fear filling her brown eyes. “She’s definitely been traumatized,” he said, studying his chart. “I’ll need your name and your relationship to the child.”

“I’m her grandmother,” she said.

The white curtain shielding the examining area flew open. “No, she’s not,” Susan announced, marching in and rushing to Polly.

Angie gritted her teeth.

“Is she all right?” Susan asked, reaching out to pick up her daughter.

“For the most part, yes,” the doctor said. “Who are you?”

“I’m the child’s mother.” Polly wrapped her little arms around Susan’s neck. She held her daughter close, covering the side of her scratched, dirty face with kisses.

“Did he hurt her?” she asked further studying Polly’s tear-stained face.

“I don’t think so,” the doctor replied, “but I want to check her over further.”

Polly started to cry again. “We’ll go home soon, honey,” Susan said.

“I’m sleepy, Mommy.”

“There’s a possibility she was drugged,” the doctor said. “I’d like to do a blood test to verify it. Find out what he used.”

“My poor baby,” Susan mumbled, hugging Polly closer. She glared at Angie. “What are you doing here?”

“I was trapped with your daughter in the building that just imploded,” she said. She hated to admit it to her daughter, but she had to. “The kidnapper wanted revenge against me. That’s why he abducted both of us.”

“My Polly was with you.”

The way she said “you” irritated Angie. “Yes, the kidnapper dragged both of us into that building, tied us up, and left us for dead.”

“It’s all your fault,” Susan said, continuing to glare at Angie. “Because of you my little girl nearly died.”

“Both of us almost died,” she threw back. “And she’s my Polly, too. I’m her grandmother.” She didn’t need Susan’s accusations. She already felt guilty enough. Why couldn’t the woman just be happy her daughter was safe?

“She’ll never be your Polly,” Susan said. “And don’t call me your daughter because I’m not. You gave birth to me, but that doesn’t make you my mother. You’re a stranger that I want nothing to do with.”

Her heart broke with these words and she blinked back tears. She was glad to see Brian enter the examining area.

Susan turned her glare to him. “I hope you don’t want any more stories.”

“No,” he said. “The child is safe.”

“No thanks to her,” Susan spat back. “Can we go now, doctor?”

“You should be thanking Angie,” Brian said. “Her premonition led me to the building site. Her psychic ability helped save your daughter’s life.”

“I’ll never be thankful to her for putting my little girl in danger.”

Her daughter’s attitude infuriated her. “I’m your mother, Susan. I’m trying to forgive the harsh words you’ve thrown at me. I care about Polly just as much as you do. I protected her from harm during our captivity. I would have given my life for her to keep her safe.”

Susan, her lips pursed, said nothing.

“Family is important, Susan. I admire your strength in going it alone, but you don’t need to. I’m here for you.”

Susan continued to stare at Angie, but her expression softened a little.

“Yes, I abandoned you once, but I never will again, I promise.”

“I can’t trust that promise,” Susan said. The doctor motioned for her to follow him.

As she did, Polly looked over her mother’s shoulder and waved at Angie. “Bye-bye, grandma.”

The grandchild’s simple words tore at Angie’s heart. Waving back, she said “Bye-bye, Polly.”

****

They didn’t leave the hospital for another hour. The rain stopped, but humidity filled the warm night air. Even at 3 A.M., there was considerable street traffic in front of the hospital. An ambulance entered the hospital driveway, its siren wailing.

“The city that never sleeps,” she muttered, touching the bandage on her forehead. The doctor wanted her to stay overnight so they could observe her for a possible concussion, but she refused. She just wanted to go home.

“You need to get a new car,” she said quickly growing tired of waiting for the taxi.

“I know,” he replied then hesitated. “You should know Tucker’s dead.”

She couldn’t stop the relief flooding through her. Maybe it wasn’t right to wish someone dead who she’d respected at one time, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d never forgive him for what he’d put Polly through. Never mind what he’d done to her.

He filled her in on how Tucker died. Perhaps she should feel some kind of compassion for the man, but she didn’t. He’d wanted her dead. The hatred that forced him to plan such a revenge was a powerful poison, a poison that led him to an act of lunacy that nearly cost them their lives.

“I’m not proud of what I did, but I’d do it again if it meant finding you,” he said.

She looked at him. “What did you do?”

He grimaced. “I grabbed the dying man by his shirt front and shook him because he refused to tell me where he’d left you. He was determined to die without revealing your whereabouts, and I was determined to drag the information out of him before he did. If a cop hadn’t pulled me off of him, I’d have beaten the man into submission.”

Reaching up, she gently stroked his face. “My hero.”

“I can’t take the credit. You’re the one who led me to where the two of you were trapped. I followed the facts in your premonition.”

“My dreams mean nothing, Brian.”

“You have so little faith in yourself. How can I make you see that you possess a special gift? A gift that saved your life.”

“You’re crazy,” she said, turning away from the love shining in his eyes. It left her both breathless and frightened. No one ever displayed such trust in her before. People had made fun of her all her life because of her visions. Why should he be any different?

“No, I am not crazy. I love you, Angie Martin. I want you to believe in yourself like I do. Your visions of an explosion led me to you and Polly.”

“I can’t accept that.” She’d heard his words of love spoken with such honesty. An honesty that shook her to the core. No one had ever said those words and meant them.

“You need to. We found the house from your dreams exactly like you described it. It’s where Tucker hid Polly all week.”

“But my dreams never told me where the house was. How did you find it?”

He smiled. “You might not like the articles I wrote, but they did pay off. Someone who’d been reading them saw something suspicious at that house and contacted the Feds and me.”

“Pure coincidence,” she muttered.

“No, it’s not. We did this together. We make a great team.”

“Martin and Murphy, the crime-solving duo,” she said, her voice filled with sarcasm. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m going to make a believer out of you yet, Angie Martin.”

His strong belief in her premonitions overwhelmed her. She’d failed so often. How could he think she was right this time? “You risked your life for me. No one ever cared like that before.”

“Well, I do. I know the word ‘love’ frightens you, but you’re going to have to deal with it. My feelings for you aren’t going to change.”

Just then the taxi arrived and she didn’t have to reply.

Chapter Twenty-One

Early Saturday morning

During their taxi ride home, she’d been quiet, saying nothing about her daughter or her captivity. Brian decided not to broach the subject. Instead, he sat with his arm around her, holding her close. He wanted to comfort her as well as reassure himself she was safe.

He paid the cab fare and followed her into the apartment complex. As soon as they passed the row of mailboxes, someone stepped out of the shadows. Instinctively, Brian went into protective mode. He moved in front of Angie, shielding her from the intruder.

“What do you want?” he growled, balling his hands into fists. Whoever the man was, he wouldn’t let him harm her.

The guy held up his hands. “Hey, man, cool it. I’m a reporter who’s been following the kidnap story. I wanted to interview Ms. Martin.”

“She’s not giving any interviews, so scoot. She’s—”

“It’s okay, Brian,” she interrupted. She turned to the reporter. “But he’s right about me not giving out interviews. The only person writing about me from now on will be Brian Murphy. He’s got the exclusive.”

Her smile plus her words filled his heart with even more love for this woman. He put his arm around her waist in a possessive gesture. “Tough luck, kid,” he said, glancing over at the reporter as he led her away.

They walked past the swimming pool, footsteps echoing on the concrete path. The lighted pool’s reflection shimmered off courtyard windows and doors. A slight breeze stirred the water causing it to gently lap against the edge. He would never look at that pool again without seeing the doll. She must be thinking about the doll, too. She stopped and stared into the water.

“He didn’t give us a seventh clue,” she said.

He looked from the water to her. “Yes, he did. Dunning found it clutched in Tucker’s hand after he died.”

“What did it say?”

“It dealt with Humpty Dumpty having a great fall and not being able to put the pieces together again.”

She studied him for a minute. “He was right. The building did experience a great fall and they wouldn’t be putting Polly and I together again if he’d succeeded with his murderous plan.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.

“Are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.

Their feet made scraping sounds in the early morning stillness. When they reached her door, she turned to him. “I’m exhausted, Brian. I want a hot shower and sleep.”

“You’ve been through a lot, but you shouldn’t be by yourself,” he said. Putting his arms around her, he tugged her close and gently kissed her. “I don’t want to let you go even for a short while.”

“I know.” She caressed his beard-stubbled cheek. He leaned into her caress and kissed her scratched palm.

She took one of his hands and gently stroked his bruised knuckles. “These are the hands that saved my life. How can I ever thank you, my brave hero?”

He brushed at the tear that slipped down her cheek. Groaning he pulled her close once more and kissed her. “I meant what I said earlier. I love you, Angie Martin. When I thought I’d lose you, I was beside myself. Then I realized I wanted you in my life forever.”

“I know.” She returned his hungry kiss with a gentler one of her own. “That’s something we need to talk about, but not right now.”

“You aren’t escaping me that easily.”

She winced. “Let’s not be using the word ‘escape.’”

He smiled, thankful she could joke a little. He kissed her again, devouring her lips like a thirsty man might seek water. When she pulled free, he felt empty. He couldn’t live without her for long. However, he’d try to respect her wishes to be alone right now.

A hot pink envelope was taped to her door.

“Who’s that from?” he asked, feeling uneasy. Maybe it was foolish, but he couldn’t help himself.

She smiled, ripping open the envelope. “Probably Rita. She’s the one who uses stationary that screams at you.”

Reading the note, she smiled.

“Well?”

“Dear sweet Rita, always thinking of me. She called Dunning and learned that I was on my way home. She figured if I didn’t have my purse and keys back yet I wouldn’t be able to get into my apartment. She unlocked my door using her key. Funny, until this moment I hadn’t thought about getting in.”

“The door’s unlocked,” he exclaimed, alarm filling him. He didn’t like it. Could he ever shake the feeling of her being in danger? “How long has the door been unlocked?”

“Not long. According to her note, she’d just got home when she talked to Dunning. Before calling it a night, she came and unlocked it. I suspected she wanted to wait up to quiz me about what happened, but decided to give us some privacy.”

“Rita, the incurable romantic.”

“That’s her,” she said opening her door with a turn of the handle.

“I don’t like your apartment being unlocked.”

He started to step inside, but she pushed him back outside. “Brian, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Tucker’s dead and I’m safe. You don’t need to search my apartment for hidden goblins. There are none. Goodnight.”

Before closing the door, she kissed him once more, a kiss that held the promise of things to come. Before he could return that kiss, however, she shut the door. Standing in front of it, he took a deep breath and listened for trouble but heard nothing.