Chapter 37
Jessa walked briskly through the hospital cafeteria, her eyes scanning for Cowboy or Logan. Neither one of them was here.
Dammit. What was she going to do now?
She pulled out her cell phone, wishing she still had the numbers for the HERO Force guys in her contacts. Fortunately, she still remembered the number for headquarters.
"I need to speak to Leo Wilson please. It's an emergency."
"Who's calling?"
"This is Jessa McConnell. Ralph McConnell's widow."
"I'm very sorry, Ms. McConnell, but you are not on the priority call list. I'm afraid I can't put you through."
Frustration and fear had Jessa clenching her fists.
"You listen to me. I'm at the hospital where Jax Andersson is recovering, I've got a seriously bad dude trying to kill me, one man I love has already died for you people, and I'm pregnant with the baby of another one.
Now you better damn well put me through to Cowboy this instant! "
Silence hung on the line between them. "Hang on, transferring you now."
Jessa was nearly back to the elevator and pressed the button as she listened to Cowboy's phone ring in her ear.
"Leo Wilson."
"Cowboy! It's Jessa. Where are you guys?" The elevator doors opened and she got on with a small crowd of people.
"Logan here ain't never tried fajitas, so we stopped by Sexy Hombre's for a skillet."
That restaurant was at least a quarter mile away.
"I need you back here now. I know who's after me.
It's all in the book. I figured it out, but now I don't know what the hell to do.
Jax is still out cold and the bad guy lawyer is due back here any minute.
" She was aware of the curious glances she was receiving from other people in the elevator and turned her back to them.
"Go to the lobby," said Cowboy. "Stay where there are a lot of people. We’re on our way."
"Hurry, Leo. Please." She disconnected the call and turned back around. Her eye caught that of Fred Bach standing in the very back of the elevator, and her heart leapt in her chest. He was staring at her like a predator stared at its prey, and she knew he'd heard every word.
The elevator doors opened and two construction workers got on, further crowding the already packed space. Jax’s room was on the top floor of the hospital. If she did nothing, the crowd would thin until the only people remaining in the car were her and the lawyer, the man who wanted her dead.
Just as the doors were closing, she dashed between them and out of the car. From the corner of her eye she could see the lawyer making a move, heard him say, “Excuse me," but it was too late. The elevator doors closed behind her and she looked around at what was clearly a construction zone.
She began a desperate search for escape. There had to be a staircase, another way out of the building, but everything was covered in giant sheets of plastic, an eerie green glow the only light on the floor.
She pushed at door after door looking for an exit. "Is anyone here? Please, somebody help me!"
The sound of plastic rustling in the distance stopped her cold. The hair on the back of her neck went up. She wasn't alone. She couldn’t head back to the elevator — that's where the noise came from. She could only go forward like a rat nearing the end of a maze.
A voice called out behind her. "I'm not going to hurt you, Maria. I just want the book. That's all."
Jessa was aware of the tap of her tennis shoes on the floor. She slipped them off and continued on in her socks. Even her breath was too loud. She pushed at this door and that, nearing the end of the hallway.
The very last door had two strips of yellow hazard tape across it, and it opened wide as she pushed it.
Even though she was being careful, she nearly fell into the stairwell shaft.
But the stairs were chipped out, their concrete and most of the steel supports missing, with only a few bars to hold the structure in place.
"The book has no value to you, Maria. It is only important to me. We can make a deal."
Jessa squeezed her eyes closed, swallowed against the knot in her throat. "What are you offering?" she asked. She was aware as she said the words they might be the last to escape her. If he had a gun, she would surely die here today. She reached up and pulled the hazard tape off the door.
Bach rounded the corner at the end of the hallway with a shuffle of plastic sheeting. They faced each other.
“Ten thousand dollars," he said. "An amount like that can change your life." He walked toward her, the click of his shoes ticking off the seconds until he reached her.
"I think one eighth of your law firm is worth a hell of a lot more than that. Don't you?"
He smiled affably. "What are you talking about?"
"It's all right here." She held up the book. "Senora Cortez's child was the son of Reggie Moore. Your grandfather, I assume?"
He didn't answer.
"Mine, too, it would seem."
"It's a simple story. It holds no legal weight." He took a step toward her. “Peter Hopewell can attest to its fiction.”
“Peter Hopewell?”
“The heir of Harold Hopewell’s estate.”
She backed up, close now to the empty stairwell. "What did that cost you, Bach? Did you even consider that a simple DNA test will show you and I are cousins?”
In three quick steps, he closed the distance between them. "Not if you're not around to take it."
Before she knew what he was about, his hands were around her neck, squeezing.
She dropped the book. Hours of self-defense lessons with her husband came back to her in an instant.
Clasping her hands together, she pushed them high through the circle made by her attacker’s arms, forcing his hands from her neck.
He grabbed her around her middle and kneed her in the belly, vicious pain robbing her of her breath before he hit her on the back of her neck, taking her down. Her mind screamed for her baby, begging her to protect her little one at all costs.
She rolled up like a pill bug, hugging her knees to her chest, and he kicked her in the back. Her defensive position didn't allow her to fight back. All she could think about was the stairwell.
She inched toward it.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"Let me go. I won't tell anyone about the book."
He laughed. "Too late for that now.” He kicked her again. "Get up."
If he was going to kill her, she had no reason to comply.
Protect your baby.
Keep this child safe.
She inched closer to the door. The book was only a foot away, and she reached for it.
He stepped on her hand and she cried out.
"Reading time is over," he said.
"You can't stand to see it in print, can you? Reggie Moore's illegitimate child screwing you over to this day."
He took his foot off her hand and squatted down beside her. "Not for long, Cortez. Your family should've stayed in the kitchen where they belonged." He stood back up, and she once again reached for the book. He kicked it away.
Jessa stared at it. It was mere inches from the door to the empty stairwell. She got up on her hands and knees and crawled toward it.
"You don't listen very well, do you?" He kicked her in her ribs, an audible crack making her wince as she gasped in pain.
She had no weapons. No way to defend herself.
Nothing except the empty stairwell.
She continued to crawl. When she was four feet away, he began to laugh.
She crawled, the pain of her broken rib stabbing her in the side with every movement of her torso.
He stepped in front of her and bent down to pick up the book. She lunged for him, forcing her body upright and driving him into the doorway like a football player.
He fell sideways and cursed, working to get his balance before he realized what she had done. His scream echoed in the stairwell until he landed with a disturbing crack.
Jessa fell back to the ground, curling back into her ball, nothing but pain surrounding her, and waited for Cowboy and Logan to discover her location.