AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Eddie Harris was stabbed,” Brie said, naming the nephew. “Shanked over at the jail, either by one of Ice Veins’s enemies or maybe just some fellow traveler who held a grudge over one of his past exploits.”
“He still breathing?”
The detective murmured in the affirmative. “Breathing, talking—maybe even finding a way to get out the word that if a certain female bounty hunter turned up dead, there could be a substantial reward.”
“What?” Waves of shock rolled over Sierra. “Eddie’s ordered a hit on me?”
“I’m not telling you this officially, because we’re still working to confirm the rumors, but as a concerned friend, yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“He did this from the jail infirmary?”
“He had to be transferred for surgery, under guard, of course. But slip-ups can happen, sometimes bribes—or maybe the word was put out via another associate. You could try waiting for the official word, see if I could maybe scrape together enough funding for protection.”
“You don’t sound very confident.”
“Because, speaking strictly off the record, I like your chances a whole lot better if you stay far away from home.”
“But what about—I can’t just—What about my Rocky?” Two years earlier, the battle-scarred gray tomcat had marched inside her townhouse and decided he was staying where the living was easy and the canned food plentiful. With his chewed ears and half-feral nature, Rocky Balboa would never be the most affectionate of cats, but Sierra had seen to the old reprobate’s vetting and arranged for the retired schoolteacher down the block to care for him whenever she was out of town.
“Your cat’s going to be fine. I headed off your neighbor this morning when I stopped by your townhouse, told her you’d asked me to take him back to my place. Took a little doing, but we got him rounded up, along with his worldly possessions.”
“Thanks. That’s really—”
“It’s no big deal,” Brie said, blowing off the favor as if Rocky hadn’t yowled and hissed and clawed in protest, as Sierra was certain that he must have. “And now I won’t have to worry about your poor neighbor accidentally walking into who knows what.”
“Thanks, but—but you think those guys know where I live?” Owing to her line of work, Sierra had always taken great care to keep her personal information private.
“You’ve never given me your home address, remember? And it took me all of ten minutes to track you down,” Brie reminded her. “So let’s assume they know already—and that walking through the door of your townhouse could be the last mistake you’d ever make.”
“So where am I supposed to go?” Sierra asked, thinking of her damaged car, which had begun making some alarming noises when she’d driven it here from the hospital. “And how long do you think this might take to blow over?”
“Honestly,” Brie told her, “it’s probably better that you don’t tell me where you’re going. And as for how long...as someone who truly cares about your welfare, I’m thinking that a permanent relocation, and a change of profession to go with it, might offer you the best chance of surviving to a ripe old age.”
* * *
Still half out of it from the painkillers he’d been given following last night’s surgery to close the slash wound to his upper chest, Ace cracked open his eyes to see Spencer escort Sierra into the hospital room. Sierra, who had featured so prominently in the disjointed dreams that kept punching through his drugged sleep, nightmares where Ice Veins sliced her beautiful face to bloody ribbons before ordering his bald thug into a black limo to run over her legs.
Anytime Ace had awakened, the new reality he’d encountered felt almost as horrific. He would never forget the sick feeling that had hit him when Spencer had read him his rights early this morning before informing him he was officially in custody for his father’s shooting. Under arrest and forbidden from seeing anyone except his lawyer until after he was transferred to the jail.
But the knot inside Ace loosened at the sight of Sierra, looking healthy and far better rested. In the filtered late afternoon sunlight, slanting through the room’s window, the red-blond waves of her hair were full and shiny, and she’d changed into jeans and a soft-looking, blue-green top that skimmed her slender curves.
Full of questions, he fumbled for the button to raise the head of his bed, only to be stopped short by the handcuffs connecting his right wrist to the frame. His heart sank at the reminder that he would soon be in the county lockup, the only place he would be permitted to see his family members—and meet his pregnant daughter for the first time, to his shame. How Sierra had wrangled an exception to get in here today, he had no idea, but seeing her was a balm for his battered soul.
Gesturing toward his shackled wrist, she swung an accusing look up at the sandy-haired sergeant. “Is that really necessary? Look at that black eye, and he’s just out of surgery, for heaven’s sake. He’s not about to go dashing past the uniform you have posted at the door.”
But Spencer only shook his head, proving once again to Ace that despite his blue eyes and baby face, his distant cousin was one hundred percent serious when it came to police work. “This is for his safety as well as ours at this point.”
“His safety?” she challenged. “Or are you more worried he’ll embarrass you and the department by giving you the slip again?”
“Listen, Ms. Madden,” Spencer warned, his gaze stern, “I only let you in here to talk to him for a few minutes as a professional courtesy to the Vegas Metro PD buddy who vouched for you. Don’t make me regret it. Or ask you to leave right now.”
Forcing his eyes farther open, Ace spoke up, his voice still raspy from the anesthesia. “Hey, you two. I’m right here. So there’s no need to talk around me like I’m the furniture. What’s happening?”
“About twenty stitches, the way I heard it,” Spencer told him, “but I understand the knife wound wasn’t as serious as it looked. Just nicked an artery, but once they got that closed off and gave you a unit of blood—”
“Thanks, but they told me all that in recovery,” Ace said, the memory returning as he struggled to sit up. “Is—is my father in this hospital? Is he somewhere nearby? Could I—”
“Calm down,” Spencer advised. “You’ll open up your stitches.”
