“Northwest General,” he said. “I talked to the paramedics who responded. They say he’s stable, he just took a hard hit to the head. Eve, he was driving your car.”
Eve sucked in a breath and seemed incapable of forcing it back out. Breathe. “I know. I’m here with Olivia at the station. They think the real Kurt Buckland is dead. They found blood in his living room. A lot of blood.” Her voice was shaking and she couldn’t make it stop. “Noah, he killed Buckland. He just tried to kill me, too.”
“Let me talk to Olivia,” he ordered tersely.
Wordlessly Eve handed Olivia the phone. David was hurt. Stable, but hurt. He was in my car. He’s hurt because he was in my car. That was supposed to be me.
She could hear Olivia’s voice, steady and capable, but it had faded to a whisper, overwhelmed by the pulse pounding in her head. “It was supposed to be me,” Eve said.
Olivia squeezed her arm. “I know. Get your coat. I’ll take you to Northwest General.”
Wednesday, February 24, 3:45 p.m.
He sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of his own car, having parked the SUV. He’d have to get that headlight repaired forthwith.
He’d missed. It hadn’t been Eve Wilson in her car. It was Hunter. He hadn’t known until he was right up against him. He’d been so surprised, he’d jerked his hands on the wheel, keeping him from delivering the ramming blow he’d planned.
The small car had veered off the road, flipping once, but it hadn’t been the fiery ball it should have been. I missed. The only bright spot was that Hunter wouldn’t be able to identify him. The tinted windows of his SUV had prevented his face from being seen.
Now getting to Eve would be impossible. He doubted the police would let her out of their sight. So now he’d have to resort to a more tried and true method.
He’d have to shoot her. Webster wouldn’t like that. If the rumors were to be believed, there was a great deal more going on between Webster and Wilson than met the eye. Webster wouldn’t rest until her death was avenged. No matter. He’d shoot Webster, too, eventually.
But after he’d taken the sixth of his six. This would be the victim that defied everything they’d suspected. The victim who didn’t follow the rules of the game.
Wednesday, February 24, 3:45 p.m.
Olivia followed Eve and a nurse to a small room where David Hunter lay, his eyes closed. His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut, and he had a big bandage on his temple. One arm was immobilized in a splint, but other than that, he looked whole.
Olivia let herself breathe. Beside her, Eve did the same. Eve had held herself together remarkably well. Better than I might have, under the circumstances.
“See,” Olivia murmured with more calm than she felt, “I told you he’d be okay.”
“Is he conscious?” Eve whispered to the nurse.
“Yes, he is,” David said. He opened one eye, squinting. “Ow. Bright light.”
Eve grabbed the bed rail and held on. “Where are you hurt?”
“Cuts, bruises, and a fractured arm. They’re checking my back and neck, but so far, so good.” He looked past Eve and his open eye flickered with surprise. “Olivia.”
Olivia moved next to Eve, keeping her smile friendly. “Long time no see.”
“How are you?” he asked soberly and her heart did a slow twirl, as it had the first time she’d seen him.
“About the same. You, on the other hand, have looked better. Last time I saw you, you were wearing a tux with a carnation in your buttonhole, making every woman in the church wish you’d escort them to their seats and making them swoon when you did.”
“You didn’t see me the morning after Mia’s wedding,” he said. “I think my head felt almost as bad as it does now, although my face wasn’t so ugly.”
“Too much champagne will do that.” She watched his eyes shadow and wondered how much he remembered of that night, of the things he’d said. And done. “But I wouldn’t worry about your face,” she added lightly. “You were way too pretty before.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly, then glanced at Eve. “She drove you down, kid?”
Eve nodded. “She kept me calm. You had me scared. No, terrified.”
“I’m just glad I had the car and not you.”
“Oh, yeah.” Eve attempted a scoff, but it came out more like a sob. “Mr. Mario Andretti of the virtual world. More like Mario Brothers.”
He looked mildly annoyed, which was encouraging. “I’ve raced in the real world, too.”
“When you had your body shop,” Olivia said quietly. Before you gave it up for the fire department. She remembered every word he’d said that night, but she could see she’d surprised him again. “You told me you rebuilt classic cars and drove them too fast.”
“The secrets champagne unlocks,” he said gruffly. “I guess I’m lucky you didn’t cite me for speeding.” He closed his eye. “You realize he was gunning for you, Evie.”
“Yes,” Eve whispered. “I’m-”
“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to kick your ass,” David said. “After I’m able to stand up. What’s Webster doing to catch this SOB?”
“Webster’s not on this case,” Olivia said. “I am.”
David opened one eye again. “Okay. What are you doing to catch this SOB?”
“Right now I’m trying to understand this SOB’s motives. Why Eve? Why now?”
“I think he’s really gunning for Noah,” Eve said again. “I’m just in the way.”
Olivia wasn’t so sure about that. “If that’s true, I still don’t understand why Noah.”
“You don’t think that’s why?” David asked. “That Eve’s just a byproduct?”
“I might have before this. And before we found the real Buckland went missing. The guy that came after Eve isn’t a reporter. We think he assaulted the real Buckland, maybe killed him.”
David paled further than he already had. “Oh my God.”
“We’ll make sure Eve’s safe,” Olivia said. “But I didn’t want to lie to you.”
“Thank you.” He glared at Eve. “You better not go to the john without protection, kid.”
“I’ll do what they say, David. I promise.” Tentatively Eve brushed the hair from his forehead. “I’ll call your mom. Let her know what’s happened.”
“No,” David said firmly. “That will stir up the whole family. They’ll drop everything and come out here. All of them. It’ll be like Chicago, without the Cubs.”
Eve hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “All right. If the doctor says you’ll be fine, I won’t call your mom. I did call Tom. Got his voice-mail. I’ll keep trying.”
“Thanks. You’re not planning to work tonight, are you?”
“No. Callie’s taking my shift. I’m… I’ve got plans.”
David’s eye narrowed shrewdly, then his gaze lifted over their heads.
Olivia looked over her shoulder. Noah was here, making the room instantly smaller, and if she’d doubted how he’d felt about Eve before, there was absolutely no doubt now. It was written all over his face. Poor guy had it real bad. I can sympathize.
“I need to talk to David,” she said to Noah. “Can you get Eve a cup of coffee?”
“Of course.” Noah put his arm around Eve’s shoulders, tenderly. “Come on.”
Without argument Eve leaned against him. “I’ll be back later, David.”
When they were gone, Olivia pulled a chair next to David’s bed and took out her notepad. “Okay, tell me what happened. Everything you can remember.”
David’s shoulders sagged wearily. “There’s not much. I was taking Eve’s car to get a few parts. I was going to tune it up. I had Hank on the radio and I was singing along.”
She looked up, her lips curving. “You gotta sing to Hank. I think it’s a country music law or something. What next?”
“The road was only one lane each way and I was going the limit. This black SUV acted like it was going to pass me, then it swerved and hit me. Just once.”