Indestructible Page 3

  Had they taken her?

  Desperately, he called out, “Melinda, where are you?”

  The sound of a whimper drew him toward the arched hallway. She was in the bathroom, sprawled beside the claw-foot tub. A thick smear of red blood marked the black-and-white tiled floor.

  As she propped herself up on her arms, she winced in pain. Her zippered sweatshirt had been torn off. From the waist up, she wore only a gray sports bra. There were welts on her arms. She was still bleeding from a puncture on the inside of her elbow.

  He knelt beside her, gathered her into his arms. He had to get her away from here before they came back.

  She looked up at him. Her pupils were dilated. “Drew?”

  “I’m here,” he whispered. “Do you think you can stand up?”

  “How did I get into the bathroom? What happened?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “I opened the door.” She licked her lips. “And there was a flash. A blinding light.”

  He’d seen that flash. Hundreds of times when he was growing up. There was a burst of light, and he’d black out. Sometimes, he’d be awake within an hour. Other times, it was days. “I have to get you to safety.”

  Gamely, she struggled to stand up. Her legs were unable to support her weight. She collapsed against him. “What’s wrong with me?”

  He checked the darkening bruise on the inside of her arm at the vein and made an educated guess. “I’d say you’ve lost some blood.”

  “I need a doctor.”

  “Come with me.” He needed to get her away from here before they came back.

  Leaning heavily against him, she stumbled into her living room. “What happened in here? Was I robbed?”

  Explanations were going to take a while—time they didn’t have. He lifted her off her feet and carried her toward the door, where he came face-to-face with a uniformed policeman holding a gun.

  “Freeze,” the officer ordered.

  Standing behind him was Melinda’s neighbor from across the hall—a gray-haired woman who taught anthropology at Augustana. “It’s all right,” she said to the policeman. “He lives in the building.”

  “Put her down on the sofa.” The cop’s gun didn’t waver. “Do it now.”

  Though Drew knew he was capable of disarming the cop, he did as ordered. It was never wise to assault an officer.

  The professor rushed to Melinda’s side. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded slowly.

  The neighbor smoothed Melinda’s hair off her forehead. “I heard crashing and peeked into the hall. Your door was partly open, and I saw a man inside. I called the police.”

  “Can you describe the man?” Drew asked.

  “I didn’t get a good look.” The professor’s cheeks were flushed. Beneath her gray bangs, her forehead furrowed. “He was Caucasian. Definitely mesomorphic.”

  “What’s that?” the cop asked.

  “Large, muscular body structure,” she said. “And he had a shaved head.”

  Any doubt Drew might have had about the identity of the intruder vanished. Melinda’s attacker was the same man who had been after him in Italy.

  LESS THAN AN HOUR later, Melinda walked through the door of the health services clinic at the college with Drew at her side. He’d insisted on driving and now hovered close to her.

  “Are you sure you want to go here?” he asked.

  “I hate hospital emergency rooms.” The shock of being attacked in her own home made her want to seek the safe and familiar. “I know the people here.”

  Physically, she didn’t feel too terribly bad. Her injuries had been far worse after a Rollerblade accident. But the memory loss was worrisome. It didn’t seem like her head had been injured. What else could cause a blackout?

  Holding her arm, he directed her into the room. Slate-blue chairs lined the walls in the small waiting area, and two students huddled in the corner. Both were coughing and sniffling. The woman in pink scrubs who sat behind the counter looked up from the book she was reading. Melinda recognized her; she was a frequent patron of the library.

  “Melinda,” the nurse said. “What happened?”

  Drew answered for her. “She was assaulted. We need to see the doctor right away.”

  His intensity must have impressed the nurse because she quickly escorted them to a small room with an examination table and the typical medical paraphernalia arrayed on a countertop beside a sink. She turned to Drew and said, “You can wait outside.”

  “I’m staying here.”

  The nurse helped Melinda onto the table. “You’re in luck, hon. Dr. Lynn is on duty tonight until nine, and she’s the best.”

  “Thanks, Ruth.” Her recall of the nurse’s name was somewhat reassuring. Her long-term memory seemed to be unaffected by the assault. Only the few moments after the flash remained blank. “You didn’t really have to rush us in here. It looks like other people were waiting.”

  “No problem.” She patted Melinda’s hand. “You sit tight, hon. You’re going to be okay.”

  When she left, Drew came closer again. “Do you want to lie down? Should I get you some water?”

  “Give me some space, okay?”

  He backed off one pace. “How’s this?”

  “That extra eight inches is really swell.” He didn’t take his eyes off her for a second. She couldn’t help but comment on his change in attitude. “I thought you were in a big hurry to leave town.”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “I’m staying with you.”

  “What if I don’t want you around?”

  “You’ll get used to having a bodyguard.”

  A bit overprotective, but she liked being taken care of. The attack upset her. That kind of violence wasn’t supposed to happen to people like her. She’d always lived a very quiet, very safe, very average life.

  Doctor Bethany Lynn entered. In spite of her horn-rimmed glasses and blond hair pulled back in a severe bun, she looked like a teenager. Melinda knew that Doctor Lynn was in her late twenties and she liked to read Jane Austen.

  After the doctor introduced herself to Drew and shook his hand, she focused on Melinda. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I wish I could. I was alone in my apartment. I opened the door and got hit by a bright flash of light. After that my mind is blank until Drew came into the bathroom and found me lying on the floor.”

  The doctor shot a vaguely suspicious glance toward Drew. “Why did you go to her apartment?”

  “I’m Melinda’s upstairs neighbor. I heard crashing.”

  “And the woman who lives across the hall from me also heard the noises and called the police. She saw a strange man inside my apartment.”

  “Was it a burglary?” the doctor asked. “Was anything taken?”

  “Not even my purse,” Melinda said. “The police think Drew scared him off before he could take anything.”

  “Take off your sweatshirt, and I’ll get started.” Dr. Lynn continued to ask simple questions while she examined Melinda’s bruises, paying particular attention to the wound on the inside of her arm. “This is on the vein. Was there a lot of blood?”

  “Just a few smears,” Melinda said.

  She wrapped a cuff around the uninjured arm to test blood pressure. “Any vomiting?”

  “No.”

  “Ringing in the ears? Dizziness?”

  “I’m really tired. Kind of weak in the knees.”

  The doctor ran through a couple more tests. “Your blood pressure is a little low, and you’re slightly anemic. The bruising appears to be superficial. Mostly defensive.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Your arm was grabbed with force, and you were dragged. While you were trying to fight off your attacker, you bumped into things, which caused the crashing noises.” The doctor gave her a reassuring smile. “I’d like to ask some personal questions. It might be best if we were alone.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Drew said. When he folded his arms across his chest, it l
ooked like they’d need a bulldozer to remove him from the examination room.

  “It’s okay with me if he stays,” Melinda said.

  Dr. Lynn didn’t look pleased, but she continued, “Were you sexually molested?”

  “Golly, no.” If she’d been raped, Melinda would have felt it. “I still had my pants on.”

  “I was downstairs pretty quickly,” Drew said. “Five or six minutes after I heard the first crash.”

  Ignoring him, the doctor examined Melinda’s eyes. “You don’t appear to have a concussion, but your amnesia concerns me. I’d suggest you go to the hospital for a CAT scan.”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t have a head injury. What else would cause a blackout?”

  “You might have been drugged. I should take a blood sample and run tests to find out.”

  She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that possibility. “Drugs might be a problem. I’m pregnant.”

  Behind her glasses, the doctor’s eyes widened. Of course, she’d be surprised. She knew Melinda was single. “Well, congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Drew said.

  His fierce protectiveness was softened by a proud smile. If he’d given her that kind of warmth when she first told him, she would have been elated.

  Not anymore. She was leery of Drew.

  After they left the clinic, her suspicions deepened when he drove past the turn leading to their apartment building. “Where are we going?”

  “Not home,” he said. “That’s for damn sure.”

  Exhaustion crept over her. Too tired to argue, she leaned back in the passenger seat and groaned. “I need to go to sleep. In my own bed.”

  “You can sleep in the car. I have a cabin that isn’t too far from here.”

  “Absolutely not.” She mustered just enough strength to resist his ridiculous idea. “Tomorrow I have work.”

  “Being assaulted qualifies you for a sick day.”

  Taking time off wasn’t a problem in terms of her employment, but she was concerned about the people she worked with. “If I don’t show up at the library tomorrow, everybody is going to worry. They’ll be calling to make sure I’m all right and bringing over casseroles. I don’t want to cause a fuss.”

  And how would she explain that she was running off to a secluded cabin with Drew? She’d mentioned to Heather and Lily Rhoades, the head librarian, that she was dating, but that was a far cry from spending a weekend at his cabin. Or being pregnant with his child.

  This was all too much. She groaned again. “Please just take me home.”

  After checking the rearview mirror, he pulled over to the side of the road and parked his SUV. He turned to her and took her hand. “I know a little something about danger. We can’t go back. It’s not safe.”

  She had the terrible feeling that he might be right.

  Chapter Four

  “Take me home,” Melinda said. “Or I’ll scream.”

  If Drew could have forcibly abducted her, he would have done so. The danger was right here, in her face, undeniable. She’d been assaulted in her own home.

  “Be reasonable, Melinda. We have to get out of here before they come back.”

  “They?”

  “You’re in danger.”

  “You’re making too much of this,” she said. “Like the policeman said, this was an attempted robbery. I’m not surprised. There’s really no security in our apartment building. The lock on the front door opens right up if you shake it hard enough.”

  “This wasn’t a run-of-the-mill robbery. He dragged you into the bathroom and drew blood.”

  “We can’t be sure that happened.”

  A streetlight outside the window shone on her cheekbone and jaw. Her quiet beauty disarmed him, and he felt guilty for sucking her into the peril he’d lived with for most of his life.

  He couldn’t expect this very normal woman to grasp what it was like to live on the razor’s edge, and he didn’t know how to explain without sounding like a lunatic.

  His truth wasn’t easy. He’d have to break it to her gently. “At least, let me take you a hotel tonight.”

  “Oh, gosh, no. I can’t let you go to all that trouble and expense. I’m fine, Drew. The best thing we can do is leave the investigating to the police and get on with our lives.”

  “It’s not just your safety,” he said. “You have to think about the baby.”

  She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m getting a headache.”

  “You can’t close your eyes and pretend this didn’t happen. Nobody likes to think they’re in peril, but—”

  “You do,” she said. “You go looking for danger. Extreme danger.”

  “That’s my job.”

  “And I’m a librarian. That’s my job, and I want to go to work tomorrow. That’s final.”

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  “With most people, I’m the very soul of cooperation. You bring out the worst in me.” She yanked down on the door handle and swung it open. “If you won’t take me home, I’ll walk.”

  “Close the door.”

  “We’re going home?”

  “Fine.”

  Maybe she was right. He’d taken precautions. In case of this very situation, his apartment was set up like a fortress.

  On the short drive back to their building, Drew kept an eye on the rearview mirror, making sure they weren’t being followed. The streets of Sioux Falls, bathed in moonlight, were as quiet and serene as a Norman Rockwell painting. He told himself that they’d be safe for tonight.

  When he parked in the lot near the entrance, he flipped open his glove compartment and took out his .32 Beretta Tomcat—an efficient and accurate pocket-size handgun.

  She gaped. “That gun better not be loaded.”

  As if he’d carry an unloaded weapon? “The man who attacked you wasn’t playing games. We need to take precautions.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like going to my cabin.”

  She shook her head and winced. The doctor had inspected her scalp for head wounds and found nothing, but she seemed to be in pain. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then stay close beside me. Do exactly as I tell you. We’re going to my apartment first.”

  They managed to get inside the building and up the stairs without incident. Coming here wasn’t the best option, but Drew felt relatively safe in his one-bedroom apartment. He’d armed the place like a fortress with three locks on the door, bulletproof glass on the windows and surveillance cameras. After he prowled down the hall and looked into the closets to make sure they were alone, he set his Beretta down on the coffee table. There were three other guns hidden around his apartment.

  Melinda had collapsed onto the sofa with her eyes closed. The lamplight shimmered on the strands of gold in her long, curly auburn hair. Utterly peaceful and untroubled, she didn’t look like someone who had been violently attacked less than two hours ago.

  When he attempted to lift her so he could carry her to bed, she pushed him away. After a huge yawn, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  “I’ve got a headache.” Her lips spread in a sleepy grin. “I never expected to hear myself say that to you. Going to bed with you is, well, it’s…” She yawned again. “It’s amazing.”

  Though he hadn’t been thinking of sex, her suggestion aroused him. Making love to her had been his number one priority tonight. This evening should have been a “welcome home” celebration—a home-cooked meal followed by hours of mind-blowing passion.

  “I want you to sleep here tonight,” he said. “In my bed.”

  “Oh, I hate to be a bother.” She pulled a frown. “I’m fine right here on the sofa.”

  Enough politeness! He tucked one arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her back. With a quick jerk, he lifted her off the sofa. “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to be comfortable tonight.”

  In her pale greenish eyes, he saw a battle between exhaustion and stubb
ornness. “But I—”

  “Hush, Melinda.” He gave her a little kiss on the tip of her nose. “Let me take care of you.”

  With a sigh, she relaxed and nuzzled against his neck. “I’m too tired to say no.”

  He carried her down the short hallway to his bedroom and settled her against the pillows. By the time he pulled off her running shoes, took off her sweatshirt and tucked her under the down comforter, she was asleep.

  Though sorely tempted to join her in bed and hold her against him, Drew had to figure out what to do next.

  He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of the wine she’d returned without drinking a drop. In the living room, he perched on the edge of the sofa and turned on the flat-screen television. Using the remote, he tuned to the channel that displayed the view from three strategically placed surveillance cameras. One showed the hallway outside his apartment. Another focused on the building’s entrance from the parking lot. The third camera looked down from the roof and showed the fire escape outside his window. Nothing was moving. Not even a squirrel in the trees.

  His instincts told him to put miles between himself and the men who had pursued him all the way from Europe. But he couldn’t leave her unprotected. He swirled the wine in his glass and took a sip. Why had they gone after her?

  He shoved off the sofa and went to the closet by the front door. Behind the suitcase he always kept ready for a quick escape was a rifle that he’d placed by the door for easy access. On the top shelf, he found a case filled with electronic equipment, including a bug sweeper.

  He’d been gone for three weeks with the sensor alarms turned off. It was possible his pursuers had breached his security. In a matter of minutes, he located a listening device attached to the frame of the window that opened onto the fire escape.

  They were listening. They’d overheard his conversation with Melinda when she came to his apartment, and they knew she was important to him. Their plan must have been to grab her and use her for leverage to make him do what they wanted.

  He wouldn’t let that happen. Not to her. Or to their baby.