Deadly Charade

chapter 18



Tony passed out with his head in her lap. Linda’s panic spiked and hysteria threatened to break her control until she realized his breathing was normal, as was his pulse. Whatever was wrong with him wasn’t life threatening—at least, not yet. He still needed medical attention. But he’d asked her not to call the police.

Did that mean she shouldn’t call an ambulance, either?

She looked around but none of her neighbors had come outside to check on her. Based on the darkened windows, people were asleep and hadn’t heard enough to think it was worth investigating. Though he’d always been lean, Tony was still considerably larger and heavier than her. So what was she going to do?

There was only one thing she could do. Get to safety. They couldn’t stay here. What if the intruder came back? She needed to get him someplace safe, make sure he would be okay, and think. Only then would she decide whether to call the cops or not.

She bit her lip. Then, despite feeling slightly guilty, she patted him down to make sure he didn’t have any weapons or needles on him. He didn’t. That didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t using or that he’d lied about taking over Guapo’s business, but it was one more reason to bolster her faith in him.

Getting behind him, she tucked her hands under his armpits and with great effort slowly dragged him an inch at a time toward her car. As she did so, she kept a watchful eye on his face. He was still pale. At one point she reached down to lay her hand on his face and cursed. He was burning up with fever. Whatever he’d been fighting off earlier that evening had taken a firm hold. He’d had an infection in the hospital. She wondered if it had come back.

Inadvertently she glanced down and winced. His pant leg was stained with blood, making her again wonder if the fever was caused by some kind of infection.

She had to stop for a few seconds to catch her breath. As she did, she once more swept her hand over his face, missing the curls that she’d often tangled her fingers in when they were together. But the close-cropped hairdo did more than make him look tough. It made it impossible for him to hide from her. His features stood out and with them every hint of vulnerability that he possessed, especially because he was unconscious and unguarded.

He’d said he’d wanted to talk to her. About what? Had he changed his mind about wanting her help? Had he decided to come clean with her? Decided to trust her with the truth of whatever it was he was doing with the drug ring formerly run by Guapo? And why had he thought the intruder—the man who’d wanted to hurt her, he’d said—was a cop?

She bit her lip, knowing what she did now could have a momentous impact on her life. On her career. Certainly on her bid for a judgeship. Tony was out on bail but he’d been charged with a crime and her office was prosecuting him.

She should ignore what he said. She had no reason to trust him. He’d told her over and over again that he was a changed man. Usually when men said they’d changed, they meant for the better. Tony meant he was worse. A bad man. One who didn’t care about her. Yet he’d saved her life once already. And if he was right about that man—whoever he was—being dangerous, he could very well have saved her life again.

And why did she keep thinking he was doing something that needed to be uncovered? Why couldn’t she simply accept he was the addicted, opportunistic man he’d tried to convince her he was?

Because she still loved him.

And if she could love a truly bad man, not just a flawed one, then what would that make her?

* * *

Linda took Tony to the local E.R. but only because Pamela Dexter, a friend of hers, was the doctor on duty. She’d called beforehand to double-check she’d be there and even then she’d known she was taking a calculated risk. That Tony, if he were conscious, would argue against going. But she couldn’t just drive away with him when she didn’t know for sure what they were dealing with.

Tony gained consciousness on the way to the hospital, but just barely. As she’d expected, he argued when she told him she was taking him to the E.R., but she simply ignored him, and he was too weak to argue for long. When they got to the hospital, medical staff helped him inside.

Pam owed her a favor and saw Tony right away. At least he hadn’t been shot, otherwise Pam would have had to report his injuries to the police. He’d suffered a light concussion and had gotten another infection.

“You said he got into a fight at the jail?”

“Yes.”

“That explains the infection, then. A jail’s not the most sterile of places and if he’d been bleeding after the assault... We’ll get him started on the meds and have him stay overnight—”

“No,” Tony said.

“Excuse me?” Pam asked, looking first at Tony and then back at Linda.

“Tony,” Linda began. “You need to listen to her. If she wants you to—”

He stood and began to dress. “I’m leaving, Linda. And so are you. We can’t stay here.” When she remained silent, he paused, taking several deep breaths and obviously struggling to stay focused. Finally he stepped close to her, leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Please. I know I haven’t given you any reason to, but please trust me. Take me to a hotel and let me get better before you do anything. I’ll explain everything to you then. I promise.” He stepped back.

After a second, she nodded. “Okay.”

Relief swept over his face.

“Are you taking him home? If so, I’ll give him his first round of antibiotics and a prescription for more,” Pam said.

Linda nodded. But she didn’t say whose home she’d be taking him to.

She wasn’t going to take him to a hotel. She had a better place. Someplace more private. Not his home, though. And not even hers.

She was going to take him to the vacation home in Grass Valley. The home her father had deeded to her for some reason.

She hadn’t been there in years. During her youth, her family had stayed at the cabin on the creek during the summer, or over winter break. She’d loved the times they’d spent there—sleeping outside under mosquito netting, catching crawdads in the creek, and later, when she was older, hanging out with the neighbor boys who grew a pot patch in the woods and who would take her to the river and get her drunk.

After her father had betrayed her family for the last time, she’d never gone back. She still made sure the taxes were paid and she used a property manager to rent out the property to people wanting to vacation in the idyllic Gold Country. The place was vacant right now, but it would be clean and would have electricity. She figured it would be a while before someone could track her down. That would give her time to think, to plan, without having to worry about whether they were in danger by any of Guapo’s men or, if Tony was right, by a dirty cop.

As she drove the winding country highway that would take them to the cabin, she called and left a message for her secretary. Briefly she explained she wasn’t feeling well and would need another deputy to take over her caseload for a few days. After a brief hesitation she also asked her secretary to inform Norm that she wouldn’t be able to make the fund-raiser tomorrow night, either. “Please give everyone my apologies,” she said, even as she winced. Norm would be furious. She’d likely lose votes, too. But she had no choice. There was obviously something more important at stake here.

After hanging up, she kept an eye on Tony, whose head was cradled in the crook of his arm as he leaned against the passenger’s side window. Had the man fighting with Tony in front of her house truly been a dirty cop? Dirty cops were a part of life, she knew. Just last year it had been discovered that a cop who’d worked with Dom Jeffries, Mattie’s husband, had been working for Guapo. The cop had been charged with everything from assault to kidnapping to murder, then been killed at the hands of a fellow inmate in jail. Though the cop’s killer wasn’t talking, people pretty much assumed the cop had been killed to prevent him from testifying against Guapo.

It was no wonder the people of Sacramento were feeling shaky about government corruption. There’d even been allegations that Guapo had invaded the District Attorney’s Office, though Linda had never believed it. The District Attorney, Norm Peterson, was one of the most honest men she knew. And though Brian Heald wasn’t her favorite person in the world, she couldn’t even imagine him, let alone any of the others that she worked with, being on the take. That went double for Neil. He enjoyed his job and ambition too much. Plus he had money from a trust fund his grandmother had left him. Assuming what he’d told her about that had been the truth, that is. She had her secrets, after all. It probably stood to reason that others did, too.

She turned off the highway onto a gutted dirt road, wincing with sympathy for Tony as the car bounced over a pothole. Soon, however, she parked the car and stared at the two-story cabin with faded gingham curtains on an isolated plot of land. She’d traveled an hour from Sacramento to this place that would always hold mixed memories for her. And she’d done it for one reason only—to keep them safe. She and Tony.

Watching over him, being his partner at the moment, felt right in a way few things ever had.

She looked over at Tony. He was still unconscious and the silence in the car was the perfect backdrop for doubt to sweep over her.

Was she seriously going to take him into the house she’d once lived in with her father and mother, the one she hadn’t been back to, not even after her father had left it to her? Was she going to buy into the paranoid observations of a man that, for all she knew, was having delusional side effects because of the drugs he was taking?

But she had to be fair. She’d concluded at the place he was staying that he might not be taking drugs, after all. He’d seemed genuinely afraid for her safety back at her house. And she couldn’t deny the fact that he’d hurt himself trying to protect her. Twice.

So she’d give him the benefit of the doubt and do what she needed to keep them safe. Even if it meant having to face a past she’d hoped never to face again.





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