Sudden Insight. Rebecca York
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don’t know her.”
“You’re lying. Your name was in her daybook.”
She raised one shoulder. “She came here. I did a reading for her. That’s all.”
“You’re lying.”
She struggled to keep her voice even. “Why would I lie?”
He made a rough sound. “You know she’s dead, and you don’t want to get involved.”
And he was the man who had killed Ms. Morgan, Rachel knew with sudden conviction.
He kept speaking. “Or you have information that you want to keep to yourself. Either way, we’ll get to the truth. Sit down.”
When she moved to one of the Queen Anne chairs, he gestured toward the ladder-back against the wall.
“Over there.”
She sat with her heart thumping inside her chest, watching him as he pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and tossed them to her. She caught them and clattered them in her hand.
“Put them on.”
His total focus was on her, so that he didn’t see the flicker of movement behind him.
Chapter Four
Rachel clanked the metal cuffs in her hand.
“Stop playing with those damn things and put them on!”
She kept moving the metal links in a hypnotic rhythm, willing him to watch her, holding his focus and struggling not to give anything away.
The man who had appeared behind the intruder was Jake Harper, standing like a coiled spring in the doorway, taking in the scene, a grim expression on his face.
She kept her gaze on the guy with the gun. “I don’t know anything about Evelyn Morgan besides what I saw during the reading.”
“We’ll see. But first we’re going to get comfortable.” He laughed, a grating sound that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “At least I will be. Put on the handcuffs if you don’t want to get shot.”
The man might be enjoying his power over her, but if he wanted information, he wasn’t going to shoot her. She hoped.
Still, questions whirled in her mind. Why had he killed Evelyn Morgan? Because she hadn’t talked? Because she’d told him something incriminating? Or had he gotten too rough and done it by accident?
Her heart was pounding as she lifted the cuffs in her fingers, still making the links click together.
“Stop stalling.”
Instead of snapping one of the bracelets around her wrist, she threw them on the floor, watching from the corner of her eye as Jake silently picked up a heavy glass paperweight from the display shelves.
“You witch. You’re going to be sorry,” the man growled. “Get down on your knees and pick them up.”
As she slipped off the chair, getting on all fours and drawing the man’s gaze downward, Jake leaped forward, striking the intruder on the back of the head with the paperweight. She’d already dodged to the side as the weapon discharged, and the man went down in a heap in the middle of the floor.
Jake ducked around him, pulling her up. “Are you all right?”
The feeling of relief was overwhelming. Relief and more. As he held her in his arms, they exchanged silent messages.
You knew something was wrong.
Yeah.
Thank you for getting here in time.
You kept him busy.
She wanted to stay in Jake’s arms, but she knew that the feeling of safety was only an illusion. They had to get out of here.
Her eyes flicked to the man on the floor, seeing the blood oozing from his hair.
“You hurt him.”
“Not as much as he was planning to hurt you. Head wounds bleed a lot.” She winced.
Jake squatted beside the man, picked up the gun and handcuffs and cuffed the guy to a heating pipe.
Next he handed her the gun. “Keep him covered.”
She accepted the weapon, wondering what would happen if she had to shoot it.
Jake felt for a pulse in the guy’s neck.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.” He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a wallet. In it were a driver’s license and a couple of credit cards in the name of Eric Smithson. He also took the handcuff key.
“Probably the ID’s not in his real name,” Jake muttered. “Give me the gun.”
She was glad to hand it over and watched as he switched on the safety and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.
“We can’t leave him here,” she whispered as she stared at the assailant. She was still coming to grips with what had happened and what would have happened if Jake hadn’t arrived.
“You want to call the cops?” he asked, his voice hard.
She considered that option. “No.”
“Why not?” he pressed.
She’d always been a law-abiding citizen. Now she heard herself answer, “I don’t want to get myself connected to the Evelyn Morgan case.”
“Agreed.”
“What should we do?”
“Well, you can’t hang around here. Too dangerous. Can you stay with a friend?”
She thought for a moment and couldn’t come up with anyone she could impose upon. Not when she was hiding out from a guy who was probably a murderer. And she was pretty sure Jake could guess what she was going to answer.
When she shook her head, he said, “You’re staying with me.”
Undoubtedly what he wanted.
She swallowed. “Okay.”
“Go up and pack a few things.”
“You know I live upstairs?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t comment as she turned toward the door that led up to her apartment. Jake hesitated, then followed.
She stood for a moment in the middle of the darkened room, feeling paralyzed, her brain in danger of shutting down. Which wasn’t an option.
Grimly she forced herself into action, taking underwear and some practical clothing out of drawers, then throwing a few personal items and some makeup into a small kit.
After she’d stuffed everything into an overnight bag, she looked up to find Jake watching her and holding the gun he’d taken off the assailant.
“What are we going to do with the guy down there?”
He thought for a moment. “Take him to another location and turn the tables on him.”
“You mean question him?”
“Right. I’d like to know who he’s working for.”
“If he killed Evelyn Morgan, won’t he be … dangerous?”
“I think I can handle him,” Jake said, and she knew from the tone of his voice that he’d taken care of a lot of business she didn’t want to ask about.
When she started for the stairs, Jake held her back. “Stay behind me.”
He hurried down the steps, then stopped short as he reached the ground floor, muttering a curse.
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