ODOM PULLED OUT A GUN and leveled it at John.
Before Shannon could even think of making use of her extinguisher, Joe came leaping out from behind a stack of rubble and knocked Odom to the floor. The gun went flying.
John pounced, and in an instant, he’d dragged Odom up. John held him with one arm and drew the other way back, his fist aimed at Odom’s jaw. It connected with a dull crunch, and Odom went sprawling backward, squealing with pain.
John took a lunging step toward him and hauled him up again, and now Shannon saw the gun John had drawn.
“Start talking, asshole,” he growled.
Joe was crouched down, searching for Odom’s weapon with his flashlight beam.
Shannon stayed where she was, desperately trying to figure out what was going on, because she knew now that it hadn’t been Joe who was hiding near her. He’d appeared from an entirely different direction.
Suddenly another light clicked on, and someone stepped out of the shadows. Shannon could see that it was a woman. She was wearing a helmet with a light attached to it, and she, too, had a gun. This one was larger than John’s handgun, maybe some sort of semiautomatic. She held it with both hands, easily, as if she was familiar with it, and she pointed it at Joe.
“Toss your gun away,” she ordered John, “or your partner’s dead.”
John released Odom and took a slow step back. He dropped his gun at his feet.
“Good girl, Rachel,” Odom hollered, and started to walk toward her.
Shannon just had time to see the triumphant smile that gleamed in the light from the woman’s helmet before the gun exploded, and Odom went flying backward, landing spread-eagled on the cement. Blood began to pool around him.
The muzzle of the gun was swinging toward John as Shannon took two long, lurching steps and brought the extinguisher down as hard as she could on the woman’s back. It made a satisfying sound, a dull, heavy thwack, and Rachel went flying forward, landing on her belly. Shannon was lifting the cylinder in case she had to hit her again when something big struck her full force.
She flew several feet and then hit the floor. The air was knocked out of her lungs and her head smashed against one of the beams. Light exploded in her brain, and she couldn’t breathe. She could hear the noises she made, ugly, gasping sounds, and was fighting hard to stay conscious when a powerful flashlight beam shone straight down into her face.
“Jesus, it’s you.”
The light began to turn in concentric circles, making her dizzy, drawing her into a vortex. The last thing she heard was John’s horrified voice.
“Shannon? God almighty, Shannon. Don’t pass out. Stay with me here—”
His panicked voice seemed to come from far away, but she knew that she was safe with him, that she could let go. She heard him cursing as the light faded and she slid down into darkness.
JOHN KNEW THAT RIPANI had Rachel Gruber. He could hear the woman cursing as Joe struggled with her. He must have subdued her somehow, because she let out a yelp and then shut up, and John heard Ripani’s gasping voice calling 911 on his cell.
Odom had begun screaming intermittently, but those sounds seemed faint and faraway. All John was really conscious of was Shannon, sprawled on the cement beside him. He could see in the beam of his flashlight that the side of her face was scraped and bleeding where she’d connected with the steel post. Her skin was pasty-white, her breathing barely discernable. God, what had he done to her? How badly had he hurt her? He’d lunged at her, hitting her with the full force of his body.
“John, you okay? Who’ve you got over there?” Joe’s voice steadied him.
John drew in a ragged breath and hollered, “It’s Shannon. Get an ambulance here as fast as you can. She’s unconscious.”
“They’re on their way. What the hell was O’Shea doing here, anyway? How bad’s she hurt?”
She was backing me up. Doing everything she could to keep me safe.
“I dunno. I think maybe bad. I knocked her down.”
John felt sick in body and soul, and he was shaking. He’d tackled her hard, probably broken some of her bones. In the confusion and the darkness, he’d had no idea who the blurred shape was that had jumped out and walloped Rachel Gruber. For all he knew, it could have been yet another accomplice of Odom’s. John had simply reacted.
“I think Odom’s still alive,” Joe called. “Is O’Shea bleeding? Did she stop a bullet?”
Jesus. He hadn’t even thought of that. He did a fast assessment. There was no major bleeding, and he couldn’t determine if anything was broken. He didn’t think it was.
He stripped off his jacket, tucked it around her, started to pull her into his arms and stopped abruptly. What if she had a spinal injury? He pressed his lips to the scratches on the palm of her hand and prayed harder than ever.
He could hear Joe, still scuffling with Gruber, warning her not to move.
Odom made groaning noises.
Shannon didn’t budge, and John put a finger on her throat, relieved beyond measure at the strong, steady pulse beating there. After an interminable time, he finally heard sirens in the distance. They grew closer and suddenly stopped, and then there were voices shouting outside. Within moments, powerful lights were making paths through the darkened warehouse.
“Over here, hurry up,” he bellowed, and when he looked down at Shannon’s face again, he realized her eyelids were flickering. She groaned and struggled to sit up, but he put both hands on her shoulders and held her down.
“Let me go,” she moaned, trying to break his hold with her hands.
“Lie still. You’re not moving until a medic has a look at you.”
“I’m fine, I must have hit my head. Geez, John, why did you tackle me like that, anyway? You really whacked me a good one.” She struggled with him. “Let me go. I need to get up.”
“You stay the hell where you are,” he told her through gritted teeth, practically sitting on her to keep her immobile. “Medic?” he roared. “Over here. Now.”
A young man appeared beside them, setting down a large portable light and a first aid case. He knelt at Shannon’s side. “Hey, Biceps, what’d you do to yourself? Lie still. Let’s have a look—”
“I’m fine, Bernie. I just got knocked out for a minute. Ouch—I must have banged my shoulder, too. Let me up. There’s nothing broken, honest. I’d know if there was…”
Bernie finished a careful examination. “I can’t find anything broken, but if you were unconscious, you better go to the hospital and let them check you over. You could have a concussion.”
“I don’t need the hospital, I don’t have a concussion, I’m absolutely fine.” She sat up, and then, using John’s arm as a fulcrum, struggled to her feet. She was unsteady at first, and John looped an arm about her, but after a few minutes she slid away from him and looked around.
“What happened to that woman with the gun, John? And where’s Joe? He’s okay, right? Is Odom alive?”
All that mattered to him right now was Shannon.
“Joe’s fine. I don’t know about Odom, and I don’t care.” He’d lost interest in the bastard. He’d lost interest in everything except her. “Are you dizzy? Feel sick? Maybe you oughta sit down again.”
“John, read my lips. I’ve got a few bruises, but that’s it. Don’t you have better things to do right now than fuss over me?”
For the first time since he’d knocked her down, he really looked around.
The scene was controlled chaos. Ambulance attendants, firemen and police officers were milling around, and still more were pouring into the warehouse. He needed to find the police officer in charge and brief him as to what the operation had been about.
With Shannon close beside him, he made his way over to the group surrounding Odom. Joe introduced John to the police officer in charge. Rachel Gruber was in handcuffs, alternately swearing and crying, and the medics were about to load Odom onto a stretcher.
“It was all his idea,” Rachel wailed as an officer led her away. “Stupid fucking idiot. I should have known he’d mess up.”
John showed his ID to the senior police officer. “I’ll want to question Gruber, and Odom as well, if he’s gonna live long enough.”
“They figure he is,” the officer said. “She’s either a lousy shot or the guy’s got horseshoes. She didn’t hit any major organs. He’s out of it right now, but we’ll have him under guard at the hospital. I’ll have them call you the moment he comes to.”
“John, have a look at this.” Joe held up a fuse and a container of liquid accelerant. “Gruber had these with her. She was planning to shoot us all. I’ll bet she was gonna make it look like we’d shot one another. Then she’d use this to torch the place. There wouldn’t have been much left as evidence. She’d have been long gone with all Odom’s money by the time we got the fire out and anybody started to figure out what was going on.” He turned his attention to Shannon. “You okay, O’Shea?”
“Fine. A few bruises, nothing to worry about.”
Joe nodded. “I have no idea how you ended up here, Shannon, but John and I sure as hell owe you one for smacking Gruber with that extinguisher before she had a chance to pull the trigger again.”
“My pleasure, Captain.” Shannon gave John a sidewise glance. He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. He wasn’t about to thank her for anything. Now that he knew he hadn’t crippled her for life, he had more than a few things he planned to say to her, and thanks wasn’t one of them. But this wasn’t the moment.
“If you don’t need me here,” she said, “I think I’ll head home. My car’s just a couple blocks away. I’ll find my backpack and—”
“You’re not driving anywhere.” John encircled her upper arm in a none too gentle grip. “You heard the medic. You need to go to the hospital, get x-rayed, make sure your ribs aren’t cracked or something. You still could have a concussion.” He started worrying all over again.
“I don’t have concussion. And if something were broken, I’d know it. Don’t treat me like a bimbo, Forester. I know when I need medical attention and when I don’t.”
Damn it all. With her, everything was a battle. “Okay, but you’re still not driving yourself home.” John turned to Joe. “I’ll drop her off and then I’ll head over to the police station. See you there.”
“That’s not necessary.” Shannon was trying to unhook his fingers from her arm. “You don’t have to drive me anywhere. I have my own car, and I’m perfectly capable of—”
Aware that there were lots of interested observers, John leaned over until his mouth was an inch from her ear and hissed, “Shut up and do as you’re told for once, or so help me—”
He didn’t expect threats to have any effect, but amazingly, she stopped struggling. One of the young officers handed over her backpack and John took it, still holding on to her arm with one hand. He marched her out the side door of the building, and just as he’d expected, the moment they were outside, she started in all over again.
“You’re bruising my arm, John. You don’t have to drag me, for heaven’s sake. If you’re so set on driving me home, fine. Let go of me and I’ll come of my own free will.”
Deep breaths, that was the answer. He released her arm, counted to ten several times, opened the passenger door on his car for her and managed not to slam it once she was inside.
He tossed her pack in the back and got behind the wheel, but he didn’t start the car. He held on to the steering wheel in hopes it would keep him from throttling her.
“I really thought we had an agreement.” He was trying hard to keep his voice under control. “You gave me your word. You promised you wouldn’t come anywhere near here today.” He could feel himself losing it just a little. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Shannon?” His voice was rising. “Do you have any idea how foolhardy that stunt was? You could have been shot. It’s a bloody wonder I didn’t shoot you myself, instead of knocking you down.” That sent a spasm of icy fear through his gut. “Your word’s not worth a tinker’s damn. Why I ever thought I could trust you…” He swallowed hard. It took two stabs to get the damn keys in the ignition, and then he burned rubber for half a block. It didn’t help.
She didn’t say anything. He kept expecting her to—mouthing off wasn’t something she had problems with—but they got all the way to her house and she still hadn’t said a word. He pulled in at the curb.
There was a guy in a billed cap sawing lumber at the side of her house, and he looked up when the Corvette stopped. The dogs were lying on the grass beside him, and neither of them budged, not even when Shannon opened the car door, almost before the car stopped moving. She got out, back and shoulders hunched. She slammed the door and went limping along the sidewalk and up the new steps at the front of her house.
It was the final straw. John rolled the window down and bellowed, “That’s it, then? You’re just going to walk away from me?”
She didn’t answer, and the front door wasn’t locked. She opened it and went inside without a single backward glance.