Love at First Sight Part 12

She had only minutes to get across the river to the carousel. Not nearly enough time to find a good place to see and not be seen, but she'd have to wing it.

She knew she was taking her life in her hands and that if she was caught again by Baxter and his men, he would definitely demand the psychiatric evaluation. Only this time she wasn't so sure she could convince the doctor she didn't have a death wish.

But it was a wish to live that sent her racing toward the city's carousel. As she ran, she had the feeling that she was being watched. At least her paranoia was still alive and well. Except it wasn't paranoia when someone really was trying to kill you, right?

With the sun low, it was almost cold out. She wondered where Jack was. If he still had a job. If she'd ever see him again. The thought made her falter. Of course, she'd see him again. Destiny had brought them together, hadn't it? Then destiny would bring them together again. If it was was destiny. Shoot, dumb luck would be all right, too. Just so she got to see him again. destiny. Shoot, dumb luck would be all right, too. Just so she got to see him again.

The carousel was housed in a carriage house beside the Clark Fork River. Only a few cars were in the lot since it was almost closing time for the ride. She could hear the band organ playing and see the colorful horses.

She wondered if the person who'd answered her ad was already inside. It seemed an odd place to meet. Too public and yet not public enough-especially if she was expected to ride on the revolving carousel.

She crossed the bridge and started down the stairs to river level, the carousel in sight. She hadn't descended but a few steps when she saw him. He was sitting in a car, not the large, dark sedan from before, but a smaller blue one parked under the Higgins Street bridge. He appeared to be watching the carousel.

Her heart banged against her ribs. She fought to catch her breath. She couldn't let him get away. Not this time. Frantically she looked around for a phone booth and spotted one past the carousel to the west. She would still be able to see the man from the phone booth as well as the hotel across the river and the bridge, just in case her two guards had discovered she was missing and were already looking for her.

She took the stairs at a run and, keeping to the shade of the buildings, hurried to the phone booth. She started to dial 911, then stopped herself. She didn't trust the police. Not after Baxter had had her locked up for her own good. She dialed Jack's cell-phone number instead, praying he'd answer. Praying he wasn't in jail. Or worse- She opened the phone booth door to let air in, feeling a little claustrophobic, turning her back to the man in the car as Jack answered.

"Jack!" she cried, ecstatic to hear his voice. "Jack, I found him!"

"Karen? Where are you?"

"In a phone booth by the carousel."

"How did you get away from the men guarding you? Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Jack, I can see him. He's sitting in a car under the Higgins Street brid-"

The explosion drowned out everything, setting the sky on fire. Bricks and dust and flames showered down like fireworks across the river. For a few seconds Karen could only stare in disbelief.

"Karen? Karen? Are you still there?"

"The hotel, Jack, it blew up." No, not the hotel. Just the top floor. "Jack, the floor of the old hotel where they'd been keeping me. It just blew up."

She heard Jack swear. "Karen, I'm on my way. I'm just a few minutes away. Stay on the line with me."

She turned then to look back at the car under the bridge. The navy blue car hadn't moved. But the man who'd been behind the wheel was gone. "Jack, he's-" She heard the crunch of gravel behind her and turned just in time to see the man from Liz's hotel room. In that instant, she realized what it was about him that had made her recognize him the second time at the hotel and again in the car. "Oh, G.o.d, Jack, it's-"

The blow to her head radiated pain, then stars, then blackness.

JACK TURNED ON his lights and siren, knowing that Captain Baxter would hear about this and he'd be fired if not thrown in jail. He didn't give a d.a.m.n. He had to get to Karen, and fast. his lights and siren, knowing that Captain Baxter would hear about this and he'd be fired if not thrown in jail. He didn't give a d.a.m.n. He had to get to Karen, and fast.

Karen had said she could see the man. Jack a.s.sumed she meant the man she'd witnessed with Liz at the Carlton the night of the murder. Sitting in a car under the Higgins Street bridge. Then something had exploded. The hotel where Baxter had hidden Karen. How could that be? And then the man was gone, Karen said.

But it was her last words that Jack couldn't get out of his head. "Oh, G.o.d, Jack, it's-"

It's what? And why had she stopped talking and the phone gone dead as if someone had hung it up?

He floored the Jeep around a corner just missing a UPS truck. Hadn't he known something was wrong? The second letter. It had only been a diversion, while the killer's real target was the hotel and Karen.

Karen said the floor she'd been on at the hotel had blown up. The killer had known where she was. Jack wondered how she could have gotten away. Not that he cared. He didn't question the G.o.ds of fate. Especially this time.

But had she walked into another trap the killer had set for her?

Just let her be safe.

The Jeep screamed around a corner. Just let her be safe. Just let her be safe. He repeated it in his head. A mantra. If he'd owned a rabbit's foot he'd be clutching it right now. He felt as if his entire future hinged on the next few minutes. He repeated it in his head. A mantra. If he'd owned a rabbit's foot he'd be clutching it right now. He felt as if his entire future hinged on the next few minutes.

The Jeep roared under the Higgins Street bridge and screeched to a stop in clear view of the carousel and the phone booth. Across the river, black smoke boiled up from the top of some old brick hotel. He could hear the cry of sirens and smell the smoke, but all he cared about right now was the phone booth and the small crowd gathered around it.

He leaped out of the Jeep and ran toward the crowd, propelled by a fear that had his heart lodged in his throat.

The people parted to let him through and he saw her. She sat in the corner on the concrete floor, supported by the walls, her head tilted to one side, her eyes closed. She looked as if she'd fainted and simply slid down the phone-booth wall.

He started to flash his badge but remembered he didn't have it. "I'm a police officer. Did anyone see what happened to her?" He could hear the band organ playing at the carousel. What had happened to all the cops who were supposed to be covering this stakeout?

"She was like that when I saw her," someone said.

Jack knelt down beside Karen and felt for a pulse. Strong and steady. Just like her, he thought with overwhelming relief. He felt her forehead. Cool and dry. That's when he noticed a b.u.mp the size of a golf ball on the side of her skull.

"Someone call an ambulance," he ordered.

"Already did. It's on its way," a voice from the onlookers informed him.

"I think she must have fallen and hit her head," someone else outside the booth said.

Jack doubted that. But he did think she'd been struck. By the killer?

A moment later Jack heard the sound of an ambulance drawing closer. Karen stirred in his arms. Her eyelids fluttered against her pale skin and he noticed how light her freckles were. She needed some sunshine on her face, he thought, and immediately thought of the ski lodge. He'd take her there. Take care of her.

But even as he thought it, he knew she'd be even more determined to find the person behind this herself. She'd been taken into protective custody, locked up and held by armed guards. Look at the chance she'd taken escaping to get to the carousel for the second meeting.

The fact that the killer had blown up a floor of the hotel and almost killed her in a phone booth wasn't going to slow her down. Just the opposite. And he knew there was nothing he could say that would dissuade her. Not this woman. Not this time. She wouldn't believe anyone could protect her now.

Her eyes opened. Aquamarine with flecks of gold.

"h.e.l.lo," he said softly, never so glad to see those eyes looking at him. Even if she was was frowning. frowning.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"My head hurts." She tried to sit up. The effort made her wince.

"Easy. Stay still. An ambulance is on its way."

She blinked. "Ambulance? What happened?"

"You don't remember?" he asked.

"No." She glanced around in confusion. "I don't remember...."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything until you're feeling better. If you'll let me do that," he added, bothered by the fact that she was still frowning at him.

"Do I know you?"

"Jack," he said, studying her intently. "Jack Adams." The name didn't seem to ring any bells. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Of course. Friday, March 17."

Friday. The day before the murder. The day before she ran into Liz on the street and went to the coffee shop for some girl talk. The day before she became the only witness in a murder case.

"Where am I?" She frowned as if she realized she wasn't in the part of the town she thought she was. He felt her pull away. Friday. They hadn't met yet. He was a stranger. His heart sank.

She was still in grave danger and yet she didn't know it. Didn't remember anything-especially the face of the killer. Nor Jack Adams's face, he reminded himself. If he thought she wouldn't let him protect her before, she really really wasn't going to now. Not a complete stranger. wasn't going to now. Not a complete stranger.

The ambulance pulled in, lights flashing. An EMT ran toward the phone booth. In a few seconds Karen would be gone. Once she got into the ambulance headed for the hospital, Captain Baxter would hear about it. Jack knew he wouldn't be able to get near her after that. But the killer might. Look how close he'd gotten this time.

"Karen, you have to listen to me-"

She drew back, squinting at him as if trying to put him into focus. "Do I know you?" She didn't sound as though she'd necessarily mind knowing him.

The notion came out of nowhere. It never even hit idea stage. Certainly couldn't have been considered a plan because given more time he would have realized just how flawed it was. But he didn't have time. The words just popped out, almost of their own accord.

"Of course you know me, Karen. I'm your husband."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Husband? She stared at the man. As in married? Surely she would remember getting married, wouldn't she?

He smiled. Jack Adams did have a nice smile and there was was something about him- something about him- "What have we got, Detective Adams?" an emergency medical technician asked from the open phone-booth doorway.

Detective Jack Adams? She'd married a cop? She hated to consider what her mother must think of that.

"She fell and hit her head," her husband answered.

Is that what had happened? Could explain her headache and the fact that she and her husband were on the cold floor of a phone booth with a crowd outside and an ambulance waiting.

"How long have we been married?" she asked her cop husband quietly.

"Just a few...hours."

A few hours? He had to be kidding. She glanced down half expecting to find herself still in her wedding gown. "Was it an informal wedding?" she asked, trying to understand what she was doing in jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers.

"We eloped. Got married at city hall."

"Well, congratulations," the EMT said as her husband moved out of the way to let the man check her over.

She leaned back against the gla.s.s wall, feeling a little light-headed and confused and...married, she thought, looking over at Jack. His gaze met hers and she felt something chemical arc between them.

"Wow, her pulse just spiked," the EMT said. "So did her heart rate."

She didn't doubt it. But after all, she was a newlywed.

The EMT shone a flashlight into her eyes. "Doesn't look like she suffered a concussion, though." He checked her vitals again. "She seems stable."

Stable? Karen doubted her mother would agree. "Have I told my mother yet?" she asked Jack. Jack. She liked the name. Jack Adams. A strong name. Just like him. Broad shoulders. Nice slim hips. She noted the way his jeans fit his behind. Ummm.

"No," Jack answered. "You wanted to wait."

Probably just wanted to put it off, she thought.

"Do you want us to take her in?" the EMT asked.

"No, I'll get a doctor to look at her," Jack said, studying her with concern.

She smiled. What a thoughtful husband she had. "I'm sure I'll be fine. How bad could a little fall be, anyway?"

Her husband didn't look convinced. Husband. She thought she could get used to this.

"I'll take her to my doctor's office on the way," he said.

On the way where? "Are we on our honeymoon yet?" she asked, wondering how she'd hit her head in a phone booth and what the two of them had been doing here to begin with. Maybe he'd brought her to the carousel for a ride. She could hear the music and smell the river. What other reason would they be here?

Shouldn't they have been headed for some place more...intimate? At the least, more private than a phone booth?

But then she couldn't imagine herself married. Let alone eloping. Or getting married at city hall. Her mother was going to kill her.

"It isn't much of a honeymoon so far, huh?" she said as Jack helped her to her feet and over to a Jeep, the lights on top flashing red and blue. He really was was a cop. "I'm sorry." a cop. "I'm sorry."

He closed the Jeep door and looked down at her through the open window. "You have nothing to be sorry about." He smiled then, a sweet, slow smile that warmed his eyes and sent a shiver through her.

Well, one thing she wasn't sorry about, she thought, as she watched him go around to the driver's side and climb in. She was pretty sure she was glad she'd fallen in love with this man.

"It must have been rather sudden," she said as he drove away from the river, the sound of the carousel fading away.

He nodded. "Love at first sight."

"I guess!" she said, studying his face. She could see how it might have happened. He had a nice face, boyish but just imperfect enough to be interesting as well as masculine and definitely handsome.