“Don’t worry. It’ll slow him down and make it easier for us to get him the second time around.”
This was not how things were supposed to go down. Clearly, she had not hired professionals. She should have trusted her instincts and found someone else to handle the problem. “Any witnesses?”
“Just the female he’s traveling with.”
“A woman?”
“That’s what I said.”
It had to be the woman she’d seen on the news—the one from the morgue.
“Everyone was gone before the police arrived,” the caller went on. “We’re not happy about this either.”
The hand at her side curled into a fist. She should have left well enough alone, let law enforcement do their job and bring Jason in. But the fact that Jason had been in Vermont, free to run, and instead had chosen to return to California didn’t sit well with her. It made no sense…not unless he knew something or had some kind of proof that might set him free. Why else would he risk coming all this way? “Bottom line,” she said into the microphone, “you screwed up. Now Jason knows that the Feds aren’t the only ones looking for him.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“If you don’t, I’ve got others waiting in line who will be more than happy to clean up your mess. You’ve got twenty-four hours.”
***
The house looked the same as Jason remembered, a one-story ranch painted blue and surrounded by trees. The front lawn was overgrown, and the landscaping neglected since he’d been here last. He, his partners, and Sophie, had shared quite a few beers in the backyard. The good ol’ days.
“I’ll go look for the key,” Angela told him. “Stay low until I check out the garage. If it’s empty, I’ll pull the car inside. We don’t want the neighbors to see you.”
After Angela left, he shut his eyes. The pain in his side was excruciating, but he didn’t want Angela to panic. With two years of medical school under her belt, he was hoping she would know what to do.
The fact that she insisted on putting herself in danger continued to bother him. It was different now. There were agents everywhere. First chance he got, he planned to convince her to walk away before she got hurt or in trouble with the law for aiding and abetting.
The attack today baffled him. Whoever was responsible must have been keeping a close eye on his mom’s house, then followed his sister to the deli. It was the only explanation he could come up with.
The garage door opened. There was plenty of room for the Volvo. Angela climbed in behind the wheel, drove the car inside, then waited for the door to clang shut before she came around to the other side to help him into the house.
She moved fast, worry lining her face as she pulled a spindled chair out from the kitchen table and ordered him to take a seat. “I’ll be right back.”
When she returned, her arms were loaded with rubbing alcohol, clean towels, tape and bandages she’d somehow managed to find. She spread the items out on the counter and then removed the centerpiece from the table. Next, she put a clean sheet over the top and patted it with her hand. “Take off your shirt and lie down here.”
When he didn’t move right away, she said, “You don’t want to make a bloody mess in one of the bedrooms, do you?”
He supposed not. With her help, he removed his shirt and climbed up onto the hardwood table. “I feel like I’m back at the morgue,” he muttered after lying down flat on his back, his calves dangling over the edge.
She ignored him. Working slowly, methodically, she examined the wound.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“You’re welcome. Now let me get you cleaned up so I can see what we’re dealing with here.”
He clamped his teeth together as she used hydrogen peroxide to clean around the wound, careful not to remove any clotting.
“How bad is it?”
“The gash is a few inches long. It looks to me as if you pulled back just as he attacked because the blade appears to have only affected the subcutaneous tissues.”
He winced when she applied some pressure. “I’ll take that as a good thing.”
“It’s a very good thing. The bad news is, I’m going to have to stitch you up.”
“With what?”
“Needle and thread, of course.”
***
With a cup of hot mint tea in hand, Angela opened the sliding doors leading to the back deck and stepped out into the dark. Slivers of moonlight lit up the deck and stars sparkled in the distance.
After cleaning Jason’s wound, she had used super glue to hold the flesh together and make it easier to sew him up. A sponge bath came next, and then she’d helped him into the bed in the master bedroom. He’d been restless at first, but finally settled into a deep sleep. For the past three hours she’d stayed by his side, making sure he didn’t develop a fever or show any symptoms of shock.