Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,52
know if foul play is suspected?”
“Foul play? You mean like murder? Why would...?” Ted stopped and sucked in a noisy breath. “What’s going on? First, you two give me the third degree about people following and kidnapping me and now this. Does Bruce’s accident have something to do with that crank call Noelle got about me?”
“It just might. If you happen to see Greavy, tell him I’m on my way.”
“Is this connected to Alex’s murder? Is someone after Noelle?”
“We’re not sure. But, Ted?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go down any triple-black-diamond runs.”
J.D. ended the call and eased Noelle into a chair.
Rocking forward, she covered her face with her hands. “This is my fault. This is all my fault.”
She already blamed herself for her husband’s death. J.D. wasn’t going to allow her to take responsibility for this one, too.
“Stop.” He knelt in front of her and grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her wet face. “Put the blame where it belongs—on Zendaris and his thugs.”
She sniffled, her gaze locking onto his. “They thought Bruce was my brother, didn’t they? That must be it.”
Her fear hadn’t clouded her reasoning skills, as the same thought had been forming in his mind as well. “That’s a possibility. It explains the phone call. They thought they had Ted. They must’ve discovered soon after talking to you that they had the wrong guy.”
“That’s why they never called me back with their demands.” She wriggled a wrist free from his grip and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “They were too busy getting rid of Bruce. Why didn’t they just let him go?”
Sitting back on his heels, he released her other wrist. “You know the answer to that. They don’t leave loose ends, especially a loose end like Pierpont with his connections. I’m sure he stupidly informed them who he was. Maybe he even thought he and his family’s millions were the intended target.”
“Which is why they’re going to kill me whether or not they get any answers from me about Abby.”
“Not if I stop them first.”
“How are we going to do that? They haven’t shown their faces yet. We have a vague description of the truck that ran us off the road last night, but you know they’ve ditched that by now.”
“They’ll make a mistake. Hell, they already made a mistake. They grabbed the wrong guy. They’re getting desperate.”
“The only reason they haven’t nabbed me yet is because of you, isn’t it? They would’ve plucked me off the street by now, or maybe even from my own house, if you hadn’t been on the scene.”
He placed his hands on the cushion of the chair on either side of her thighs and leaned in, almost touching her nose with his. “That’s why I’m here. Do you think Prospero was going to allow Zendaris to get his hands on Abby Warren’s roommate?”
She blinked and her long, dark lashes shimmered with unshed tears. “Propsero had to make sure I wasn’t in league with my roommate first.”
“Can’t be too careful.” He huffed out a breath, stirring the ends of her hair, and then pushed to his feet.
At least he’d made it clear that he was acting as her protector in the name of Prospero and not because he had some special feeling for her. Not that at all.
“I’m going to see Sheriff Greavy and find out if he can shed any more light on Pierpont’s accident than Ted did. Maybe someone saw Pierpont with someone on the slopes. Maybe there’s camera footage somewhere that will help us ID these guys.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Are you feeling up to it? I don’t want to leave you here by yourself, but I also don’t want you pushing yourself.”
“I’m fine. I don’t even have a headache anymore.”
He brushed at the dirt on his jeans. “I’m going to shower first and change clothes.”
“Do it here.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. And if she didn’t ask him to move in here, he’d have to propose it himself.
“I dropped my bag in the guesthouse when you were sleeping. I’m going to run over and grab some clothes.”
She stood, framed by the door, watching him while he jogged to the guesthouse. He grabbed a duffel bag full of clothes he hadn’t unpacked yet. Hell, he’d take the whole thing over. He slung the bag over his shoulder as he walked through her door, and she didn’t blink an eye.
After his shower, he dressed in the steam of the bathroom and slicked back his hair. Wiping the