Chapter 18
Rowan stepped out of the hospital elevator and saw Becky at a vending machine, the curves of her body held tightly in a pair of equally curvy jeans. She bent to retrieve a bag of chips and he felt like a randy teenager.
He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
A package of licorice fell from its perch. “Hey yourself.”
“How’s Gwen?”
Becky inserted a dollar bill and sipped at a Hawaiian Punch. “Good. The gunshot was purely superficial.” A pair of cupcakes dropped. “She’ll have a scar on her arm, but they didn’t even admit her.” She began feeding coins into the slot.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Why, you want something?” A chocolate bar landed with a thud.
Did he ever. A certain redhead with the appetite of a horse. “No, I’m good.” He shifted his weight. “Have you seen Colin yet?”
“He’s still in post-op. They got the bullet.”
“Good. Good. They say anything else?”
She took a swig of her drink. “Nope.”
Rowan stared at her lips, full and unnaturally red from the punch.
“You sure you’re not hungry?” she asked, putting one hand on her hip. “Because you’re looking at me like you’re starving.”
Lust shot through him at her brazen words, her eyes challenging. “Sorry.”
“Right.” She took another sip, slowly turning and walking beside him, her arm lightly brushing his. “So, you live in Italy?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you end up over there?”
He cocked his head, seeing the brick wall that he was about to run into, unable to slow down the vehicle. “I followed a woman.”
“Ah, I see. How did that work out?”
“We got married.”
“Married?”
He nodded, his face grim.
“Wait, you’re married?”
He wanted to explain, but as he imagined the wretched story falling from his lips and her inevitable reaction, he changed his mind. “I am.” Crash.
She raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Maybe it was just as well. He certainly couldn’t get into a relationship right now with everything such a mess back at home. Rowan knew he had to deal with it, face facts and move on, but some things were easier said than done.
“Okay, mister relationship king, tell me something,” Becky said.
“Shoot.”
“What do you have against Colin and Gwen being together?”
He shrugged. “He was after her years ago, before she and David were even married.”
“So?”
“So, he was totally out of line. He had no respect for Gwen or David, who was like a brother to both of us. It was messed up.”
“Okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But that was years ago. He was a kid. Now David’s dead and Colin and Gwen want to be together.”
He bristled at her easy use of the word dead, as if he was an obstacle that was easily removed. “Really? Is that what Gwen wants?”
Becky’s mouth moved to one side as she considered. “It’s what she really wants, deep down.”
“Says who, you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let me rephrase that. If—” she stressed, “they want to be together, then who the hell are you to try and stop them?”
“I’m his brother.”
“Well, duh.”
“There are a million woman he can have. Why does he have to chase the one who got away, the only one in the whole wide world that it kills me to see him with?”
“We love who we love.”
“He could find someone else.”
“Oh, because we women are totally interchangeable, right?”
He sneered, getting flustered. “That’s not what I said.”
“Sure it is. But regardless, Colin wants Gwen. He doesn’t want any of those other women.” She let her eyes scan the length of him. “I know some men have eyes for lots of different girls, but men of character tend to pick one and stick with it.”
Rowan knew damn well she was talking about him, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He was not about to explain himself to this woman who thought she knew everything.
She had already put him inside a little box and scrawled “cheater” across the lid.
He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to see if Colin can have visitors yet. ”
He wandered back to the nurse’s station by the elevator. “Is Colin Mitchell out of post-op yet? I’d like to see him.”
“And you are?”
“His brother.”
She typed in a computer. “He’s not awake yet, but you can go in. Room 318, just past the drinking fountain.”
Rowan stepped into the room and saw his brother lying still on the bed.
The seriousness of the situation hit him again, his agitation with his brother all but forgotten.
Colin’s arm was tightly wrapped and bound to his torso in type of sling, an IV in his other arm and several monitors working at his bedside.
Some things were more important than who Colin dated. Like whether or not he was alive. Rowan put his hands in his pockets and walked to the window. This day could have ended very differently, and he was filled with gratitude for their good fortune.
Footsteps behind him and he turned to see Gwen, looking uncharacteristically sporty in a pair of jeans and a Boston Red Sox t-shirt. Her eyes followed his down her outfit. “My clothes had blood on them.”
Of course. She’d been injured, could have been killed, while he sat in the car and watched. Despite his wounded pride, he knew it had been the right decision. “I couldn’t have made that shot,” he said.
“Yes, well…” her voice trailed off. “The shooter. Is he alive?”
He could hear the hope in her voice, and hated to be the one to crush it. “He died in surgery.”
She nodded, staring at a spot on the wall. “I thought he might.”
“You did what you had to do, Gwen.”
“Did they find out who he was?”
“James McDonald.”
“Why is that name familiar to me?”
“He’s the sheriff of your town in Vermont. He was running for mayor.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She sank down on the edge of Colin’s bed and covered her hand with her mouth. “He was there the day David was killed, on the mountain. He interviewed me!”
“Maybe he killed David.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. David recognized someone named Michael that day, someone from his childhood. What are the chances of that happening, and someone else being the killer?”
“Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“In my experience, the universe works very hard to provide us with the information we need. To call it a coincidence is to laugh in the face of the divine’s most dramatic intervention.”
“So who the hell is Michael?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Colin could feel the weight of his arm, splinted across his chest, and remembered.
He was on his knees on the sand-covered boardwalk, blood splattered on the ground.
He couldn’t get to his weapon, concealed on the same side of his body as his injured arm, and he flung himself behind the bench and Jerry’s slumped form in search of cover from their attacker.
Gwen. The thought crossed his mind like a prayer. She had been there, running toward them, weapon drawn. Was Gwen okay?
Colin worked to open his eyes, the hospital room coming into focus. She sat beside him, doing a crossword puzzle with a pen, and relief flooded his senses. “Hi.” His voice was hoarse and didn’t sound like his own.
Concern filled her eyes. “How are you feeling?” she asked, reaching for his hand.
“Like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson.”
Gwen smiled softly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“What happened?”
She filled him in on the events at the beach and the identity of the shooter. The sheriff was dead, but Jerry was hanging in there.
“Thank God you’re a good shot.”
“We all have our gifts.”
His mind worked to absorb everything she had told him. “McDonald must have been working for someone.”
“Someone who knew who David really was.”
Colin frowned. “Someone like Graham Walker.” Betrayal seeped through him.
Any doubt he had about Jerry’s story vanished like so much smoke in the breeze.
His mentor really was guilty, and Colin had to stop him before he was able to hurt any more people.
“I need to get the hell out of this hospital room.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Gwen.
His protective instincts reared up and he eyed her warily.
“Colin Mitchell, don’t you dare try to leave me behind again. You underestimated my value once already and it nearly cost you your life. I am vital to your wellbeing, like vitamins or sunlight.”
He gave an appreciative chuckle. She was more important that either of those things. “How did you find me?”
“Rowan. We picked him up at the airport.”
“Where is he now?”
“With Becky in the cafeteria.”
“I’m going to need his help. And yours, too.”
“Are we going to find Walker?”
He shook his head. “I’m sure he’s already here. We just need to tell him exactly where to find us.”