When Sparks Fly (15 page)

She calmly whacked his hand with the flat of
her trowel. “Thank you for your concern. Why don’t you spend your
time protecting instead of badgering me?” She’d decided working in
the garden was one of the ingredients of normalcy she’d been
missing. Since the whole thing with the sniper had begun, she’d
barely had access to her own front yard. Kept from the regular
release of tension that gardening gave, she’d slid into something
explosive with Blue. If she wanted to regain control, she needed
this.

His eyes narrowed as he shook his stinging
hand. “Do you have any idea how easy it would be to shoot you in
the open like this?”

“No. That’s your job. Well, to protect my
family is your job. If you’d been doing it the night Brandy and
Jean Luc were attacked, my sister wouldn’t be in the hospital.” All
feeling of relaxation had begun to vanish from Gem: Blue had a
talent for stealing it.

“Thank you for the reminder. Yes, I think I
will do my job,” he said. Then he stooped and gathered her up in an
armful, then began striding for the inn.

She’d just opened her mouth to lambaste him
when she felt his body jerk. Blue staggered as if struck by a club,
then dodged right, left and pitched through the open kitchen door
and into the inn.

Gem landed heavily on her hip, the wind
knocked out of her. Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring the rising
chaos. Someone dragged her away from the door, bumping her cheek on
a chair leg as he did. She didn’t realize it was Blue, or that he
was bleeding all over the floor, until they both staggered into the
taproom.

“Jaq, help him!” she gasped as Blue
collapsed into a chair. He listed forward, and she tried to steady
him.

Ignoring everyone and everything else, Blue
summoned all his strength to raise his head and meet Zsak’s shocked
gaze; his friend had been prowling the bar.

“Get him,” he commanded hoarsely. There was
grim purpose in his eyes.

Zsak nodded, grabbed a gun from under the
bar and took off.

Gem didn’t have time to wonder. Blue had
been shot in the left shoulder and was bleeding buckets. She and
several waitresses formed compresses out of bar towels and laid him
on the floor, but Gem didn’t like his pallor.

“The ambulance is on the way,” Jaq said,
alerting her to the fact that he’d made a quick call. Then he
muttered, “They ought to have the route memorized by now.”

“Stay with me, Blue,” Gem warned. Nothing
felt real right then, nothing except her fear.

Blue’s lips curved in a weak grin. “Bossy,”
he rasped.

“Scared,” she whispered into his ear,
resting her temple against his as she corrected him. It was a
moment of honesty brought out by terror. “I don’t want you to leave
me.”

“I won’t,” he said softly. Then he could say
no more.

Gem was learning to hate hospitals. Worse
was the knowledge that this visit was entirely her fault. Blue
wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t irrationally acted on impulse, told
herself the danger had passed and gone into the garden. It wasn’t
like her to be so fluff-brained, but apparently her common sense
had taken a permanent vacation. First she’d had that intimate
interlude with Blue; then she’d almost killed him trying to avoid
another indiscretion. Maybe it would have been better if she’d just
hopped into bed with him and stowed her fears; at least then he
wouldn’t have been shot. No matter what he believed, the man would
be better off if he put a few light years between them.She put her
head in her hands and silently groaned. This thing was bringing her
to her knees and there was no comfort anywhere. Xera would bring
strength but not comfort. Jaq could run the inn, but she was sure
he knew nothing about the care and feeding of a heart. She hadn’t
realized before how dry her life had become. She had no friends
outside of the family, no girlfriends to calm and boost her
spirits. Had work really consumed the last few years? Had she
become so good at shutting out her feelings, hiding her
loneliness?

She’d wanted her father to be proud of her,
so she’d thrown everything she had into his baby, this inn. Once
she’d attained excellence, she knew she was expected to maintain
it. After he died, she’d used work as a distraction from the grief,
and her sisters had needed her. Only now did she realize what
carrying all those burdens had done for her: Nothing. She had
nothing in her life of any value, save her family, who were leaving
one by one. The only thing that might stay and be hers was bleeding
somewhere in the bowels of this hellhole of a hospital.

The tears came, and she didn’t try to stop
them. She did move from the waiting room to the chapel, though.
Tears were expected there, even if no one was present to see
them.

She went through half a box of tissues and
had to find another. The very act of looking sobered her. Bawling
her eyes out wasn’t going to help Blue.

Maybe it helped a little, though, because
she was a lot calmer when she rose to leave the room. But that calm
vanished the moment she opened the chapel door and saw Zsak.

“What are you doing wandering around without
someone watching over you?” he demanded when he saw her. He stood
right in front of the door, his hand outstretched as if he’d been
ready to walk in.

She scanned his disheveled hair. It always
looked ruffled, but now there was a bandage taped to his brow just
under his hairline. He had a scrape on his chin and there was a
fleck of dried blood in his mustache. The rest of him looked all
right, but she couldn’t tell for sure through his clothes.

“What happened?” she asked.

He looked around at the hallway, which was
busy with traffic. “Not here. Come on.” He first glanced into the
chapel, then seemed to decide against it and led her to an empty
conference room. When they were both inside, he shut the door. “You
want the good news first? Your sniper is dead.”

Gem stopped breathing. “Dead?” It took a
moment, but her next thought was: “It’s over?”

He propped a hip on a table. “That’s the bad
news.”

Captain Azor suddenly walked into the room.
Gem wasn’t certain whether he’d been summoned by Zsak or found them
on his own. “Ms. Harrisdaughter,” the policeman greeted her.
“You’ve had an interesting day.”

She frowned and sat on the edge of the
table, wincing as her bruised hip protested. Azor’s dark eyes
flashed to her expression, but he didn’t comment. If her eyes were
still red from crying, he didn’t mention that, either.

“I’d like to hear your statement,” he
said.

She sighed. “I was tired of being in the
house, so I went out into the gardens. I deliberately ducked Blue
so he wouldn’t notice. He paid for my mistake.” Her eyes dropped
and lost focus. She fought tears; she would
not
cry in front
of this man.

He didn’t act impressed. “I hope you’re not
prone to repeating mistakes or you’ll solve all our problems for
us. We’ve identified the people who hired the sniper; they’re not
the kind of men you should make enemies of.” Her eyes snapped up to
his, and he smiled without humor. “Are you familiar with the drug
trafficking problems they’ve been having on Enjor?”

She glowered at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?
It’s all over the galactic news, and I run both an inn and a
shipping company.” She immediately regretted saying the last bit;
there was little question her family’s foray into exports was on
everyone’s mind.

Azor didn’t comment; he simply looked grim.
“One of the major smuggling operations has put out a contract on
your life. The Spark was a profit-eating upstart, they decided; one
they’re determined to rub out.”

She blinked. Blinked again. Her mind just
wouldn’t form coherent thought.

Azor continued. “Let me just be upfront with
you about our perspective on your situation. In Jean Luc’s quarters
we found a box full of Pax, an herb native to Polaris. It seems to
be one of the main ingredients in his beer; the beer you’ve been
exporting. In its original state, it’s mildly addictive, like
coffee or chocolate. Once illegal chem labs get their hands on it,
the stuff can be refined down to some pretty potent pills. Some of
your recent exports contained a very high percentage of Pax,
cleverly hidden among bottles with a lower percentage. This failed
to tip off the narcotics teams. If you hadn’t particularly
mentioned your brewmaster’s attitude toward his recipes to
Blackwing that night, we might never have checked this out. This is
one point in your favor.

“On the other hand, your master brewer is
being charged with drug manufacturing and trafficking. It seems he
was involved in discovering Pax, and also the process to enhance
it. Your own role in this whole operation is quite unclear. Public
knowledge of it could be very bad for your business, don’t you
think? At least among the law-abiding set.”

He was threatening her. After all she’d done
to keep her family’s inn respectable, he was threatening her. And
what could she do? She simply crossed her arms and waited. What
could she say? He knew more than she did.

“I’ll cut you a deal, Gem. You fill in the
blanks. Tell us everything we don’t know yet. In return, we’ll save
your life. You’ve had a taste of what these men who want to kill
you can do. Next time, they’re not going to miss.”

She shook herself back to life. “Wait a
minute. You’ve already decided I’m guilty! These people think
I’m…!” She shook herself again. “No.”

Azor looked at her carefully. “No?”

“No, to everything.” Rage welled in her,
rage at the whole situation. “I’m not guilty! Whatever Jean Luc, or
even my sister, might have done, I had no knowledge of it. I’m not
going to play your game. But I’m also not going to let these
gangsters do me in.”

He looked amused. “You have a plan to stop
them? Intergalactic smugglers? After your bodyguard was shot? These
aren’t local hoods, you know.”

She looked away to get rein on her temper,
then fixed him with a glare. “I guess if I can’t get you people to
do your job, then yes, I
will
think of something. In the
meantime, if you have nothing useful to add, I have a waiting room
chair with my name on it. Thanks so much.”

She gave an insincere smile and brushed
past, trying ignore his flunkies at the door. They stepped into her
path.

“Gem?” Azor said mildly.

She made a slow turn, her temper simmering.
“You have something to say?”

His smile was faint. “As of now, you’re in
my custody. You’re a witness, darlin’. You get protection. I
insist.”

She drew a breath, fighting fury. “Am I
under arrest?”

He shrugged. “Not yet.”

“Mind if I’m in your protective custody in
the waiting room?”

He sighed. “I do, as it’s not very secure.
We can arrange a private waiting room for you, though. Least I can
do.”

“How kind.”

One of Azor’s goons motioned that he would
lead the way. Another fell into step behind her. Gem saw Zsak
grimace, and could feel Azor’s eyes on her back as she walked
away.

The doctor finally came out and briefed her
about Blue. His soberness scared her.

“First of all, let me assure you that Mr.
Blue is now stable. Unfortunately, his recovery is going to be slow
and painful. The bullet entered his back through the left-hand side
and created a messy exit wound in his chest. On the way through, it
grazed his heart and perforated his lung. Fortunately, we got to
him in time, and he’s a naturally healthy individual. If he
tolerates the healing accelerators well, he should be able to leave
in as little as two weeks; provided he has someone to look after
him and plenty of rest.”

“Absolutely,” Gem assured him. “Whatever my
family can do. Can I see him now?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid not.
He’s still sedated, and he’ll be in the ICU until we’re certain
he’s out of danger.”

“Out of danger?” she echoed. She was tired,
but she didn’t like the sound of that; especially not when the
doctor had just assured her Blue was stable.

The surgeon sighed. “We had to restart his
heart more than once, and he lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, he
has a very strong will to live. Don’t worry; he’ll be receiving
’round-the-clock care. The best thing you can do for him now is to
go home and get some rest so you can keep him company when he
recovers.”

Gem nodded, but she felt just as terrible as
she had when leaving Brandy’s sickbed. Except this time it was all
her fault. A nicked heart? A perforated lung? Her stupidity had
nearly killed him.

Zsak, who’d been present for the briefing on
his friend’s health, put a supporting hand under her elbow. “Let’s
get you home,” he said. “You’re dead on your feet.”

Dead? She laughed without humor.

She didn’t remember the drive home. She
would have been too tired to sleep, except that Zsak made her down
several shots of eighty-proof. He and Blue apparently had a lot in
common regarding their medicinal prescriptions, but the alcohol
worked. Gem passed out cold and didn’t rise until late
afternoon.

She wasn’t really up to her chores when she
did wake, but lying around gave her too much time to think.
Instead, she wandered into the kitchen and let Jamir fuss over
her.

It was a wonder he hadn’t quit; they’d
already had three resignations. Ironically, business was up as
curious visitors from both Polaris and space came out to see what
all the fuss was at The Spark
.

“Cheer up,” Zsak said as he joined her at
the kitchen table, a monstrously heaped plate in one hand.
Apparently Jamir was being kind to him. “Blue’s survived
worse.”

She looked at Zsak tiredly. “Really? How
long have you known him?”

The man thought about it. “Four years? No,
five. He saved my life more than once.”