Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,63

it and the two shared a quick, awkward man-hug.

Once Lucas was gone, Ethan thought about turning on the TV, but he wasn’t in the mood for seven million channels and nothing on. So he yawned, then sat back and closed his eyes.

Rest sounded good. He had been up all night sitting with Harte, and was exhausted. Lucas, on the other hand, had worked the crime scene, and was about to head back out for a third shift with no rest.

Lucas had always been a superhero in Ethan’s eyes.

Chapter Sixteen

Harte’s whole body hurt worse with every move he made. They’d been running for so long that he and Dani were both exhausted. He glanced back to check on Dani, but suddenly, darkness enveloped everything.

“Dani?” he cried, but she didn’t answer. “Dani, answer me.”

Nothing.

“Dani!” She was gone. His biggest fear had come to pass. He’d failed to keep her safe.

“Hey, kid? Wake up.”

Harte heard someone. Was it Dani? God, he hoped so. But the voice sounded far away. Indistinct.

“Harte? Are you trying to wake up?”

The voice beckoned him. But the closer he got to it, the more he hurt. Who was trying to keep him from finding Dani?

“Leave me alone. I’ve got to find Dani.”

“Harte, it’s Ethan. Talk to me, kid.”

Ethan? Harte felt as though the bottom had dropped out from under him. He opened his eyes to slits, which made his head hurt. Everything was an ugly, dull blue color.

“Ethan?” he rasped as his brain slowly began to process what his senses were taking in. A small TV on a stand was suspended from the ceiling in front of him. Under it, a whiteboard held a sign in big letters that read Today is_____. There was nothing written in the blank. His nostrils burned with the mingled smells of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol, and he could hear a continuous hiss-pop, hiss-pop.

From somewhere, a different voice spoke. “Everything all right? Does Mr. Delancey need ice water or towels?”

“No, thanks.”

Then everything coalesced in his brain. His eyes flew open wide. “Oh no,” he moaned. “Not the hospital.”

His brother Ethan’s face moved into his field of vision. “Can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he said, smiling. “Want some water?”

Water sounded wonderful. Harte licked his lips, or tried to. They were so dry they barely moved.

Ethan held a big cup and guided the plastic straw into Harte’s mouth. When the first splash of cold water hit his tongue, the chill shot all the way through him. He shuddered, then greedily sucked up more.

“Whoa,” Ethan said, taking the cup away. “The nurse said you could have a little.”

His lips still felt parched, but inside, he was feeling much better. He tried to push himself upright, but that turned out to be a bad idea.

“Ahhh!” he growled, and collapsed back into the soft bedclothes. He muttered a few choice curses, which actually seemed to help.

“Nice,” Ethan said, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “Good thing Mom’s not here.”

Harte growled again. “Am I in a hospital?” he asked, trying his best to control his thick tongue.

“Okay. What I think I heard is hospital. So yes, you’re in the hospital.”

Harte’s eyes were still burning, so he closed them. “What am I doing here?”

“Good. You’re getting better. You and Dani Canto were attacked at the B-and-B, so you ran and hid all night through that mother of a storm. Somewhere in there you got shot. Then you ended up at Paul’s house with the bad guys on your tail. Paul took a bullet and a couple of your pursuers were shot. The cavalry arrived and saved the day. You had surgery and voilà, here you are.”

“Not quite all that happened,” Harte muttered between gritted teeth. “Where’s Dani? Is she all right?”

Ethan nodded, his expression turning more serious. “She’s fine. The EMTs examined her at the scene and released her. You, on the other hand, have a great big surgery to recuperate from. By the way, the nurse also told me you’d be too drowsy to make sense.” Ethan’s frown faded. “I see she was right about that.”

“I’m fine,” Harte muttered. The nurse was correct. He could barely hold his eyes open and he had to concentrate like mad to keep up with what Ethan was saying. But there was no way he was going to let his older brother know that.

“Fine,” he repeated, looking out the window. He couldn’t see anything but sky and the top of a portion of the New Orleans skyline. He didn’t even try to