The Outsider's Redemption. Joanna Wayne
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Cody raced across the busy street and ducked inside the doors of the parking garage. Dan had chewed him out good for letting Sarah outsmart him, but his stinging comments hadn’t been nearly as caustic as the ones Cody had hurled at himself.
He’d had a hell of a time convincing the cop that he and Sarah had just had a lover’s quarrel and that causing the scene was her way of getting back at him. He doubted the cop believed him, but he’d released him anyway, thanks to the testimony of a middle-aged woman who claimed to have witnessed the whole show.
When he found Sarah, he would tell her how the cow ate the cabbage and he wouldn’t mince words doing it. He was delivering her to Austin if he had to handcuff her and tie her to the truck. Pregnant or not, she was a little spitfire, and he’d have no choice but to treat her like one.
He rushed past a man carrying a briefcase in one hand and an overstuffed duffel in the other as he made his way to the back of the parking garage. Someone’s alarm went off. He barely noticed. Dan had said Sarah would be waiting for him near the left back corner, behind a minivan. This was the first time Cody realized how many people drove minivans.
“Sarah.” He said her name, too softly to attract any undue attention, but loudly enough she could hear him if she were within a few yards. There was no answer. He kept walking. He was almost to the back corner now, and there was no one around. Nothing but parked cars and exhaust fumes wafting on the humid air.
And a moan.
Anxiety and a burst of adrenaline answered. He called her name again and tried to follow the direction of the sound. A large man in a dark shirt and jeans dashed from between a car and a white minivan, then disappeared behind a Land Cruiser.
Cody’s first instinct was to take off after the guy, but his job was finding the woman. He sprinted the last few feet, reaching the minivan in record time. And there he found Sarah Rand, on the floor, her back slumped against the fender.
The sight ground like raw hamburger in his stomach. Her hot pink suit was sprayed with blood that dripped from her red nose. Her eyes were open, but glazed and unfocused. The contents of her purse were scattered around her. And a knot was rising on the side of her head.
The anger he’d felt toward her a minute ago was swallowed by a wave of compassion that overrode his determination to treat her as the criminal she was. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a thankfully clean handkerchief and held it to her nose to catch the drops of crimson blood. “What happened?”
“Like you care.”
“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have asked. Besides, I’m getting paid to care.”
“Some brute was trying to steal the disk. He sneaked up on me and hit me in the head. When I tried to fight him off he slapped me in the face and almost knocked my lights out.”
Dropping to his knees, he brushed stray locks of hair from her face. “Are you all right?”
“Is my head still attached?”
“It’s still there.” As gingerly as he could, he touched his fingertips to the knot just above her right ear. “In fact it looks as if you’re growing another one.”
“And both of them hurt.” She put her weight on her hands and pushed against the van, helping herself to a standing position. She staggered, and he stepped in to steady her.
“I think you should see a doctor,” he said, holding her unsteady body against his.
“Not for a knot on the head.”
“You could have a concussion.”
“I could have, but I don’t. I’m a little disoriented, but my vision is okay now. And I’m not nauseous.”
“I still think you should see a doctor. We can stop in at an emergency room. Hopefully, we can make up some story that won’t require alerting the police.”
“I told you I’m fine.” She touched her hand to the swell beneath her dress. “Nothing important hurts. But, believe me, if I start having pains in my stomach, I’ll let you know. I won’t take chances with my baby.”
“No use taking chances with a concussion either.”
“If I develop the symptoms of a concussion, I’ll seek medical help. Trust me.”
Trust her? Not in this life, not with the credentials she carried. Still, he planned to deliver her alive and in reasonably good condition. “How do you know so much about the symptoms of concussions? Do you make a habit of getting attacked by strangers?”
“My mother was a nurse, a very good one. She practically ran the hospital where she worked. She taught me all about first aid for trauma.”
Yeah, well, Cody had learned a lot about first aid from his mother, too. Only she hadn’t been a nurse. She’d been a victim—a lot more times than he cared to think about. He waited until Sarah was steady on her feet before he asked the big question. “Did the man who attacked you get the disk?”
She closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, leveling him with a cold stare. “That’s all you people care about. You and Mr. Austin. I’m just a pawn to you.”
“You’re a pawn. I’m a pawn. The brute who hit you over the head is probably a pawn, too. Just not one of ours.”
It was a stupid answer. Sarah Rand wasn’t a pawn to him. She was less than that. She was a traitorous mercenary. So why had he come to her rescue instead of going after the brute?
“He didn’t get the disk,” she said.
Relief settled in Cody’s chest, like a cool breath on a hot day. “Maybe he wasn’t after the disk at all. Maybe he really was a purse snatcher.” He stooped and started picking up the jumble of makeup and papers that had been emptied from her bag.
“No, it was the disk he wanted. He threatened to kill me if I didn’t give it to him.”
“So much for wishing for a simple purse snatching.”
“Simple for you. You’re not the one who took a briefcase to the side of your head.”
Cody scooped up the last of the items and stuffed them into the open handbag. “You wouldn’t have either if you hadn’t pulled that stunt in the airport. We’d have been in my pickup on the way to collect your payoff.”
“A pickup truck?”
“What did you expect? A Rolls?”
“I guess I should be thankful you didn’t ride in on your horse.”
“According to your tote bag, the one you accused me of stealing, that would have suited you just fine.”
“The bag was a gift,” she said. “From someone with a bizarre sense of humor.”
“Imagine you having bizarre friends. But enough friendly chitchat. We need to get on our way. Is it the emergency room or the highway?” Cody asked, scanning the area for any sign of more trouble.
“The highway.” She ran her hands down her skirt, smoothing the wrinkles but avoiding the bloodstains. “I’m almost back to normal now, and I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible.”
“I’m sure you would.” Get it over with and collect one million dollars in cold, hard cash. He picked up her tote bag and grabbed the handle of her luggage. She pulled her coat over her shoulders and walked a few steps before stopping to wait on him.
He watched her to make sure she wasn’t lying about feeling normal. Her nose had quit bleeding, and she was steady on her feet. But she still looked like a little girl playing grown-up in her hot pink maternity clothes.
No matter that he didn’t like her value system, he couldn’t deny that she was attractive, in a girl-next-door sort of way. The look probably served her well, kept anyone from suspecting her of wrongdoing. She was probably