Killer Body. Elle James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a lot of the drug-war fighting happening in Mexico bleeds across the Rio Grande. You’re trained in Special Ops, you know how to use a weapon. I know you’re right for this job. You’re there, you might as well check it out. If you still don’t think you’re up to it, I’ll find someone else, even if I have to take the case myself.”

      When his female boss, with no military training whatsoever, volunteered to take on a potentially violent bodyguard gig, he knew he had a problem. Dawson’s jaw tightened and he drew in a deep breath. “I’ll take care of it.”

      “Thanks, Dawson. I knew you would.” Before he could comment, she continued. “The D.A., Frank Young, is scheduled to meet you at the nurses’ station on Savvy’s floor. He’ll fill you in on the details. Tell them you’re her fiancé or they won’t let you in. Don’t let on to anyone you’re anything else. The D.A. wants this all to be low-key. Got that?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” As long as it stayed at the pretend level. Dawson wasn’t in a position to be anything other than a hired protector. Since his wife’s death two years ago, he’d been nearly suicidal. Brokenhearted, he’d volunteered for the most dangerous of missions in Iraq, taking risks no one in his right mind would dream of. He hadn’t been in his right mind. Not since Amanda’s death. After nearly getting killed three times and a mandatory psych evaluation, his commander shipped him home and Dawson had gotten out of the service.

      He shifted his truck into Park, pulled the keys from the ignition and pushed the door open. Heat hit him like a steamroller. The glaring Texas sun beat against the black asphalt.

      Thankful for the thick soles of his cowboy boots, Dawson stepped out of the truck and stood.

      An image of his wife lying across sterile sheets with tubes and wires attached to her sent a shiver over his body despite the oppressive morning heat. His heart thundered against his chest and he couldn’t quite catch his breath as he approached the door to the hospital lobby. The sudden craving for whiskey hit him so hard he wanted to drop to his knees.

      A woman carrying a baby stepped through the sliding doors on her way to the parking lot. She smiled at him and held the door open. “Are you going in?”

      He nodded and hurried forward to hold the door for her so that she could grab hold of a toddler while she juggled the baby in her arms. “Thanks.”

      Dragging in a deep breath, he stepped inside the cool interior of the hospital and marched toward the information desk.

      An older woman sat behind the desk, peering over the top of her glasses. “May I help you?”

      “I’m looking for Savvy Jones’s room.”

      The woman touched her finger to a keyboard, one letter at a time.

      Dawson bit his tongue to keep from groaning. That ubiquitous hospital scent of disinfectant filled his lungs and made him feel nauseous.

      The woman smiled up at him. “Are you a relative?”

      Dawson forced the words past his constricted throat. “I’m her … fiancé.”

      The woman directed him to the fourth floor, giving him a room number and pointing out the elevator.

      After he stepped into the elevator and selected the floor, Dawson’s fingers curled into tight fists. He watched the numbers change above the keypad. The elevator stopped on the third floor, a young nurse stepped in, her eyes widened and her gaze swept over him. “Hi.” She smiled and tucked a strand of long blond hair over her shoulder. “Visiting?”

      He barely cut her a glance. “Yeah, my fiancé.”

      Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “The hunks are always taken.” She flashed another smile and held out her hand. “I’m Dani. Call me if things don’t work out.”

      “Things will work out.” If he had anything to do with it, they would. He’d perform his protective duties until a suitable replacement could be found, then he’d be on his way back to San Antonio and his next assignment. He nodded toward the door opening on the fourth floor. “Getting off here?”

      She shook her head. “I wish, but no.”

      Dawson stepped out into a hallway, read the signs on the wall and followed the one toward Savvy’s room. At the nurses’ station he stopped. Audrey had said that the district attorney who’d contracted for a bodyguard would meet him there.

      A man stood with his back to Dawson, a cell phone pressed to his ear. His voice was barely a murmur. Tall, with sandyblond hair and wearing a tailored business suit, the guy had to be the district attorney.

      He turned, spied Dawson and nodded. “Check on it, will you?” he said into the phone. “If she is who this guy thinks she is, we have to handle things carefully. Call me later with what you find out.” He disconnected and faced Dawson with his hand held out. “You must be Dawson Gray. Ms. Nye told me all about you.”

      “Not much to tell.” Dawson accepted the man’s hand. His grip was firm, if somewhat cool.

      “Frank Young, Webb County district attorney.” He dropped Dawson’s hand and nodded toward a corner. “Ms. Jones’s room is down that hallway. The nurse says the sedative should be wearing off soon.”

      “Ms. Nye said you’d fill me in on the case.”

      Young nodded. “Last night Ms. Jones was found in the alley behind the Waterin’ Hole Bar and Grill, where she works, with what appeared to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound to her left temple. Fortunately for her the injury was only a flesh wound. The unfortunate part is that the gun found beside her and that she supposedly used to shoot herself happens to be the same gun used to kill Tomas Rodriguez.”

      Dawson gritted his teeth. “Are you telling me she killed Mr. Rodriguez?”

      “I can’t tell you anything. When she woke up this morning she was so doped up the nurses couldn’t get anything coherent out of her. When they asked her questions, she swore she couldn’t remember anything.”

      “About the shooting?”

      Young shook his head. “Anything, as in even her name.”

      Dawson glanced toward the hallway. “Amnesia?”

      “That’s what the doctors are saying. It could be temporary, or it could be permanent. Only time will tell.” Young crossed his arms over his chest.

      “Are you sure it’s not just a convenient stall? She can’t testify in a trial if she can’t remember.”

      The D.A. nodded. “That’s very true.”

      “What about her other mental faculties? Can she talk?”

      “Yes, she asked the nurses for water and told them that she was cold and wanted a blanket. No slurred speech or problems following simple directions.”

      “Why hire a bodyguard? Why not post a policeman on her?”

      “With all the trouble from across the border, the police force is shorthanded. And I’m not so sure I can completely trust the force to handle this matter as delicately as is needed.”

      “Why?”

СКАЧАТЬ