“Yeah, she is. And we’re going to find the man who did this to her and stop him from hurting anyone again.”
Alec reached for her hand and squeezed it. His colleagues were right outside, her friend and a witness just a few feet away, so there was no way he could kiss her the way his glittering eyes told her he wanted to. God, in all the insanity, it had actually slipped her mind that she’d made incredible love with this man a few hours ago.
She smiled and shivered in satisfaction at the very thought of it.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
He leaned close. “Stop looking at me the way you did when I was inside you.”
“Get used to it.”
He pulled an inch away, met her gaze, asked a dozen questions without ever opening his mouth, then turned and walked out of the room.
After he was gone, she wondered where that sassy, sultry comeback had come from. Because when he’d commented about being inside her, she’d turned to mush.
“I could probably use a little sleep now,” Tricia told her rescuer. “Thank you again. Call me soon, okay? I want to take you out to dinner to thank you when I don’t look like somebody ran over me with a truck.”
“That’s a deal. You concentrate on getting better,” the big man said.
Once he was gone, Sam stepped to her friend’s bedside. “I’ll let you sleep. I want to call Mom and tell her what happened.”
“Tell her I really need that plastic surgeon’s number now, ’kay?” Tricia cracked, her voice weak but her wit still sharp.
“You got it. But not too soon. You’re so damned gorgeous, the rest of us finally have a shot at getting some attention.”
Tricia’s eyes were closed, but she said, “I’d say you’re getting more than that.”
Even woozy and injured, the woman had damned good perception.
Sam slipped out, realizing her friend was already drifting off. Smiling pleasantly at the police officer stationed at the door, she said, “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“I’ll be right here, ma’am.”
Before she had even stepped away, though, her cell phone rang. She cast a quick, guilty look around. She was not supposed to use it inside the hospital, and had intended to use the complimentary landline in the waiting area. When she saw the name on the caller ID, though-MD HOUSE OF CORRECTIONS-she answered in spite of herself.
The reception wasn’t great, with static on the line, but she finally heard, “Mrs. Dalton? This is Dale Carter, Jimmy Flynt’s attorney.”
“Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Mr. Carter?”
“Ma’am, sorry to bother you so early on a Sunday…”
As if she hadn’t been up almost all night, anyway. “It’s all right.”
“I have some bad news. I’m at the prison, got called down here first thing this morning. Jimmy passed away during the night.”
“He’s dead?”
The officer tensed, and Sam waved to let him know all was well.
“He’s been very sick, as I’m sure you noticed. I’m told he took ill last evening; he was brought to the infirmary and he expired at around two o’clock this morning.”
Sam didn’t know what to say, what to think, what to feel. She had never liked Jimmy, and had always known he liked her too much. But her visit yesterday had thrown her, made her wonder if he had been less full of crap than she’d assumed him to be.
“It was nice of you to call, Mr. Carter,” she said, “though I’m not family or anything. In fact, I barely knew him.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. They contacted me about Jimmy’s belongings, since he has no known family. He left a thick envelope with your name on it.”
She froze. Love letters from a dead inmate did not appeal in the least.
As if reading her mind, the attorney said, “I glanced through them to make sure there was nothing objectionable or criminal. There doesn’t appear to be, just some odd ramblings that don’t make much sense to me, but might to you.”
“Ramblings?”
Papers shuffled. “Something about your being careful, danger heading your way.”
She had been only half paying attention to what the attorney said, still trying to believe Jimmy had died, but his words made her straighten up and take notice. “Danger?”
“Yes. He mentioned e-mail scams, that some people might use them to hurt people rather than just robbing them.”
Good God. “What else?”
He cleared his throat. “This part says, ‘There’s rumors. Somebody’s watching you and I’m worried for you.’ ”
Was it really possible? Could Jimmy have known something about this case? It seemed crazy. Then again, so had the idea of him finding the man who’d ruined her grandmother and taking vengeance on him. Yet she had begun to believe it had happened.
“Can you come down to the prison to retrieve this?” he asked. “Since it is addressed to you, the prison wants to release it to you directly.”
“I don’t know…”
“I will understand if you can’t. Jimmy was a rather unlikable person. Just because he fixated on you as an ally doesn’t mean you have any obligation to him now that he’s gone.”
Rather than making her feel better, the attorney’s words made her feel worse. As if she owed Jimmy something. Hell, maybe she did. She just didn’t know. “I’ll try. Maybe later today?”
“Very well,” he said. “You should call and let the prison know you’re coming, since it’s a Sunday and there aren’t a lot of administrative people here.”
“All right. Thank you, Mr. Carter,” she said, hanging up.
The officer, who had been watching her closely, asked, “Everything okay, miss?”
She rubbed her temple. “I’m not sure.”
Not at all sure. One thing she did know: She wanted Alec’s opinion. She quickly dialed his number, but got only his voice mail. She left him a detailed message about what had happened, asking him to call back.
“Damn it,” she muttered as soon as she’d hung up, heading to the waiting room to think things over. Sam wanted to read Jimmy’s letters. More so with every passing minute. The wording had been too precise to be completely coincidental. Whoever Jimmy’s contacts were on the inside of that prison, they seemed to actually be aware of what was happening out here.
Maybe because one of them had contact with the Professor? Was it possible?
It could be.
Alec and the others could be another couple of hours. She was doing nothing but worrying in a hospital waiting room. Rather than wasting time with the trip when they returned, she should go and be back here with the documents before their arrival.
But she couldn’t. She certainly wasn’t stupid enough to leave by herself, and didn’t have a car to do so, anyway.
“Hey, ma’am, just wanted to let you know I’m heading out of here,” a voice said. “Officer Gilbert will stay in position at your friend’s door until the FBI agents return.”
Seeing the detective, to whom she had been briefly introduced earlier, Sam had a sudden thought. “Are you still on duty, or are you going home?”
“Gonna be working all day. Never-ending paperwork.”
She hesitated, not wanting to put him out. Then, knowing it could be important, she bit the bullet and asked, “Is there any chance you could give me a ride somewhere?”
17
To everyone’s surprise, just as they reached the college, Wyatt called Jackie Stokes and told them he was on his way. No explanation about where he’d been, no questions about the case, just a few terse words. He was in town and would come straight to the campus to meet them. And he wanted the team all together when he did so.
He obviously had been very close. They had barely opened the boxes of file folders, where the elderly professor in charge said the archived registration forms and book sale receipts should be, when Wyatt showed up.