chapter Ten
The voices were coming back. They had faded away, and now they murmured and swirled around her, just like the snow. She stuck out her tongue to catch some.
“Noelle?” Warm fingers pressed her cheek, and she inhaled the distinctly masculine scent of J.D. “She’s awake.”
“How’s your head feeling, Noelle?”
Her head? Blinking, she reached up, her fingers stumbling across a bandage. Her temple throbbed beneath it, and she closed her eyes. The darkness behind her lids soothed her.
The accident.
She struggled to sit up, but firm hands patted her back down. “It’s okay. We’re going to load you into the ambulance now.”
“J-J.D.?” She chattered out the name, a sudden chill seizing her neck and jaw.
A gloved hand grabbed hers. “I’m right here. I’m riding in the ambulance with you.”
Her world jerked and swayed, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but they were just rolling her stretcher to the ambulance.
The ride to the hospital was a blur of the EMT asking her questions about the day of the week and the president in between pokes and prods from various medical instruments. And J.D. Always J.D., murmuring soothing words, touching her hand and adjusting the sheet covering her body.
As long as they didn’t pull that sheet over her face, she figured she was okay.
Later, it could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, her stretcher zoomed through the emergency entrance to the hospital and down a shiny corridor that resembled more snow.
She was still woozy and a little nauseous, but she was able to answer the doctor’s questions, and she remembered the accident itself up until the point where the truck hit the guardrail. That’s when she must’ve smacked her head against the car window.
She even remembered floating in and out of consciousness as J.D. pulled her from the car and the sirens from the ambulance wailed to the rescue.
When she got back to her room after the CAT scan, J.D. crept in and pulled up a chair.
She opened one eye. “Concussion—nothing more.”
“That’s enough. You had me going there for a while. You’d come to and then check out. Scared the hell out of me.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.” He rolled up his sleeves and held up his arms, bent at the elbow. “Just some abrasions from the air bag.”
“The other car?”
“Took off.”
“What? Like a hit-and-run? Because it was totally his fault, unless he was skidding. But then, why take off?”
J.D. shifted his gaze downward, his thick, dark lashes dropping. “I don’t think it was an accident, Noelle.”
“You mean he was drunk, or...” The nausea hit her again and she gagged.
“Water?” J.D.’s hand hovered over the plastic pitcher next to her bed.
She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, although he avoided her stare.
He handed her the cup, and she took a sip. Then she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
“You mean someone tried to run us off the road on purpose, don’t you?”
“After all that’s happened, it’s too much of a coincidence to believe otherwise. If the other car’s brakes failed or it hit an icy patch, why would the driver take off after we crashed?”
“Maybe he’d been drinking and was afraid he’d get cited for a DUI.” She pleated the sheet with shaky fingers. She didn’t want to be having this conversation.
“If he was drinking and driving, he would’ve stopped the first time he bumped us.”
Crumpling the sheet in her fist, she said, “But why? Why would someone stalking me want to kill us?”
“Incapacitate.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know that bumping a car like that into a guardrail would kill the occupants of the car, but it would incapacitate us. It knocked you out.”
“But why? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
J.D. jumped up from the plastic chair so quickly it tipped over and fell to the floor, bouncing once. He paced to the window, plowing his fingers through his hair.
The frustration emanated from his body in waves, so palpable she could feel it washing over her, merging with her own frustration into a crescendo ready to crash and engulf them both.
Throughout the chaos of the past few days, it comforted her to know that J.D. had taken on her problems as his own. He wanted to nail her stalker as much as she did.
And he’d kissed her. His interest in her had surpassed the mystery of the break-in and the text message. Or maybe the danger had been drawing them closer. She didn’t mind, although that kind of immediate attraction posed a danger all its own.
He continued staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts.
She coughed. “If they wanted to incapacitate us, they were successful. So why did they force us off the road and then leave?”
“They didn’t leave—not right away.”
J.D. rubbed his chin with his knuckles, and she held her breath, which caused her head to pound even more.
“A patrol car happened to be following us some distance back. He drove up on the scene, saw my truck smashed against the boulder by the guardrail and saw another car, emergency lights flashing, pulled over ahead of us.”
“They did pull over.” She expelled the breath with her words.
“The cop could make out a figure approaching through the snow flurries and called out. He expected the person to follow him to the accident, but as the officer reached us, he heard an engine and the car took off.”
Noelle shivered and pulled the hospital sheet up to her chin. “The person who bumped us was coming to see his handiwork and then took off when he saw the patrol car.”
“Seems like it.
“It could still mean the driver had been drinking and wanted to see how we were but didn’t want the cop to find him out.”
“Maybe.” J.D. wandered back to the window and wedged his shoulder on the wall next to it.
“You don’t believe that, do you? What’s your take?”
“It’s like you said before. The driver ran us off the road and was coming back to see his handiwork.”
“And then what?” Her fingertips traced the bump forming above her temple. “You said you didn’t think he wanted to kill us, just incapacitate us. So why did he come back?”
“To take you.”
Noelle gasped. J.D.’s words were like a punch to the gut.
He reached her bed in two strides, straightened the upended chair and straddled it. “I’m sorry to scare you, Noelle, but that’s what I think. This person doesn’t want to kill you. He wants something from you.”
“He wants to kidnap me?” She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Why are you so sure about this, J.D.?”
He reached back and squeezed his neck, tilting back his head and closing his eyes. “All signs point to it. He could’ve killed you if he wanted. That’s not what he wants.”
“Well, I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he should just ask me.”
“Are you sure you don’t know? Nothing else unusual has occurred recently?”
Noelle bit her lip as Abby’s disappearance flitted across her mind again. Did this have anything to do with her secretive roommate? “Maybe...”
“Yes?” J.D. hunched forward in his chair.
“Maybe this is somehow connected to my roommate in D.C.”
“It’s late.” The nurse charged into the room with a chart and a tray of bandages. “You need to leave now, sir. Visiting hours are over, and we need to change Noelle’s bandage and check a few vitals. You can come back first thing tomorrow morning.”
J.D. looked ready to knock the tray from the nurse’s hands. “A few more minutes?”
“I’m afraid not. In fact, it’s past visiting hours and we need to give this young lady the once-over before she gets some sleep.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Noelle pressed her fingertips against her forehead as another wave of pain and cloudiness suffused her head. The accident jarred through her memory again, and she clutched the side rails of the bed.
“Are you all right?” J.D. scooted his chair closer and smoothed his thumb across the back of her hand.
The nurse clicked her tongue. “That’s what I’m talking about. She needs to rest.”
“I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. I’m going to get a hotel room in town.” He leaned over the bed and kissed the edge of her bandage.
She nodded, already wishing him gone.
Words. Words came at her from all sides. Abby’s words. Ted’s words. Bruce’s words. J.D.’s words—soothing, comforting.
Angry.
* * *
J.D. POUNDED HIS fist against the wall of his hotel room. “Damn it, Jack. She doesn’t know anything about Zendaris. Before I left her hospital room tonight, she was ready to tell me about Abby. She wouldn’t do that if she had something to hide.”
“She’s all right now?”
“She’s fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you call sustaining a concussion fine.”
“And you?”
“I’m touched by your concern, boss, but I’ve got bigger issues here. Zendaris just stepped it up tonight. His men went after Noelle with me in the car.”
“They were going after you, too, J.D., whether or not they realize you’re Prospero. It’s enough that you’re protecting this woman. You’re in the way.”
“You’re probably right, but that just makes the situation that much more dangerous for Noelle. She deserves to know who’s after her. Who knows? She might be able to give us info about Abby that we don’t know.”
“You already said Noelle doesn’t know anything—either she does or she doesn’t.”
J.D. clenched his fist and eyed the wall again, but he passed this time. “She doesn’t consciously know anything. She would’ve brought it up if she did. But unconsciously? Maybe once I tell her the whole story about Abby, it will jog her memory. We should’ve trusted her from the get-go.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Prospero doesn’t trust anyone from the get-go. Look at what happened with Colonel Scripps. Sometimes we can’t even trust our own.”
“Prospero’s different under you, Jack. I’d trust any one of you with my life.”
“Stop trying to kiss my ass. If you’re sure about this woman, then go for it. We haven’t turned up anything suspicious on her after all our digging.”
“Thank you!” J.D. pumped his fist in the air. “She just might lead us to the missing plans.”
“Maybe, but once she finds out an international arms dealer without a shred of scruples is after her, she may never let you out of her sight.”
J.D. dropped onto the bed. That prospect didn’t sound half-bad. “You don’t know this woman, Jack. She doesn’t back down.”
“It’s your job to make sure she does. We don’t need to leave a trail of dead civilians on our quest to nail Zendaris.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’ll protect Noelle with my life.”
J.D. could hear Coburn sigh over the line.
“I—I mean, I’d protect any civilian against Zendaris with my life.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know that. Watch your back. Zendaris’s guys have the advantage.”
“They do?”
“They have their sights trained on you...and you don’t have a clue what they even look like.”
J.D. tossed the phone onto the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, his boots hanging off the edge. He couldn’t wait to come clean to Noelle tomorrow morning. They’d work this together, and knowing the source of the threats against her would keep her safer.
He could finally tell her his true identity. Would she like J.D. the spy better than she liked J.D. the ranch hand? Would she trust that J.D. more? Let him get closer?
He’d have his answer soon enough.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, J.D. left his hotel for a brisk walk to the hospital a block away. He’d already arranged to have a rental car delivered to the hospital. Between that guardrail and the boulder, his truck was totaled.
He stopped along the way for a couple of lattes and a blueberry scone in case Noelle couldn’t stomach the hospital breakfast.
Riding up the elevator to the fourth floor, he whistled a tuneless series of notes. He waved to the nurses at the front station and headed down the antiseptic-smelling corridor to Noelle’s room, his boots scuffing against the shiny linoleum.
The door stood open, and he poked his head around the corner, into the room. The doctor had a penlight out, shining it in Noelle’s eyes.
J.D.’s heart skipped a beat or two. “Everything okay, Doctor?”
The doctor turned and flashed the beam of light onto an X-ray. “Sharing the good news with Noelle. She definitely had a concussion, but the CAT scan doesn’t show any cracks to the skull. She’s free to go today.”
“That’s great.” J.D. shifted his gaze to Noelle’s face, where the good news hadn’t registered. He held up the coffees, the bag of goodies clutched in his right hand. “I brought you a latte and scone from the coffeehouse down the street.”
“Thanks.” Her lips barely moved as she eked out the word.
J.D. raised his brows. “Did you have a good night’s sleep? Is your head still bothering you?”
“Ibuprofen dulls the pain, and as long as I didn’t crack my skull, I’m thrilled.”
She didn’t look thrilled—not at all. “Any instructions before I take her home, Doc?”
“The nurse will review some instructions with you.” The doctor slid the X-ray films from the light board. “Do you two live together?”
“No.” Noelle practically shouted the denial. “He stays in the guesthouse.”
The way she said guesthouse, it might’ve been doghouse. The pain must be getting to her, or she wasn’t herself yet. The nurse would probably explain more.
The doctor’s eyebrows shot up to his nonexistent hairline. “Your friend is going to have to keep an eye on you today—just today. You should be fine, but keep taking the ibuprofen for the pain as well as the swelling.”
The doctor left the room with a wave of Noelle’s file.
J.D. sat in the chair by the bed, placing the coffees on the bedside table. “Did you have breakfast already?”
Her eyes, more violet than ever, bored into him, and he flinched from the intensity. Had the concussion messed with her mind?
He wrapped his fingers around one of the coffee cups and presented it to her while taking a sip from his own.
Her hand shot out and cinched his wrist so hard he almost dropped the latte.
“Who the hell is Zendaris?”