Countdown Page 2

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head mournfully. “I’ll flunk it anyway. I should never have come here. Ron and Sandra were wrong. I can never make it in an Ivy League school.”

  “The school would never have accepted you if they didn’t think you could make it. You did fine in high school. This is no different if you work hard enough.” She sighed as she realized she wasn’t getting to him through that haze of alcohol. “We’ll talk later. On your feet.”

  “No.”

  “Mike.” She bent so that she could stare him directly in the eyes. “I promised Sandra that I’d take care of you. That means not letting you start off your first year like a drunken sot or get thrown in jail for underage drinking. Do I keep my promises?”

  He nodded. “But you shouldn’t have promised—I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “Then act like it. You have two more minutes before I make you look like the asshole you’re being.”

  His eyes widened in alarm and he jerked to his feet. “Damn you, Jane. I’m not—”

  “Shut up.” She took his arm and propelled him toward the door. “I’m not feeling very warm toward you right now. I have a final tomorrow and I’ll have to stay up till dawn to make up for this trip to town.”

  “Why?” he asked gloomily. “You’d ace it anyway. Some people have it. Some people don’t.”

  “That’s bull. And a pretty pitiful excuse for being lazy.”

  He shook his head. “Paul and I talked about it. It’s not fair. You’ve got it all. In a few months you’ll graduate with honors and make Eve and Joe proud. I’ll be lucky to make it through at the bottom of my class.”

  “Stop blubbering.” She opened the door and pushed him out of the bar. “You won’t even make it through the first term if you don’t shape up.”

  “That’s what Paul said.”

  “Then you should have paid more attention.” She saw Paul standing on the sidewalk and asked, “Where’s his car parked?”

  “Around the corner in the alley. All the parking spots were filled when we got here. Do you need help with him?”

  “Not if he can walk,” she said grimly. “I hope you took his car keys away from him.”

  “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” He reached in his pocket and handed her the keys. “Do you want me to drive your car back to school?”

  She nodded, took her keys out of her purse, and gave them to him. “It’s two blocks down. A tan Toyota Corolla.”

  “She worked two jobs and bought it herself.” Mike shook his head. “Amazing, brilliant Jane. She’s the star. Did I tell you that, Paul? Everyone’s proud of Jane. . . .”

  “Come on.” She grabbed his arm. “I’ll show you amazing. You’ll be lucky if I don’t deck you before I get you back to the dorm. I’ll see you back at your room, Paul.”

  “Right.” He turned on his heel and set off down the street.

  “Wonderful Jane . . .”

  “Be quiet. I’m not going to let you blame your lack of purpose on me. I’ll help you, but you’re responsible for your life, just as I am for mine.”

  “I know that.”

  “You don’t know zilch right now. Listen, Mike, we both grew up on the streets, but we were lucky. We’ve been given a chance to climb out.”

  “Not smart enough. Paul’s right. . . .”

  “You’re all muddled.” The alley was yawning just ahead. Her hand tightened on the key as she pressed the unlock button and pushed him toward his Saturn. “You can’t even remember what—”

  Shadow. Leaping forward. Arm raised.

  She instinctively pushed Mike aside and ducked.

  Pain!

  In her shoulder, not her head, where the blow was aimed.

  She whirled and kicked him in the belly.

  He grunted and bent double.

  She kicked him in the groin and listened with fierce satisfaction as he howled in agony. “Bastard.” She took a step toward him. “Can’t you—”

  A bullet whistled by her ear.

  Mike cried out.

  Dear God. She hadn’t seen any gun.

  No, her attacker was still doubled over, groaning in pain. Someone else was in the alley.

  And Mike was falling to his knees.

  Get him out of here.

  She opened the door of the Saturn and pushed him onto the passenger seat.

  Another shadow running toward her from the end of the alley as she ran around to the driver’s seat.

  Another shot.

  “Don’t kill her, you fool. She’s no good to us dead.”

  “The kid may already be dead. I’m not leaving a witness.”

  The voice came from right in front of her.

  Blind him.

  She turned the lights on high as she started the car.

  And ducked as a bullet shattered the windshield.

  The tires screeched as she stomped on the accelerator and backed out of the alley.

  “Jane . . .”

  She looked down at Mike and her heart sank. His chest . . . Blood. So much blood.

  “It’s okay, Mike. You’re going to be fine.”

  “I . . . don’t want to die.”

  “I’m taking you to the emergency room right now. You’re not going to die.”

  “Scared.”

  “I’m not.” Christ, she was lying. She was terrified, but she couldn’t let him see it. “Because there’s no reason to be. You’re going to get through this.”

  “Why?” he whispered. “Why did they— Money? You should have given it to them. I don’t want to die.”

  “They didn’t ask me for money.” She swallowed. Don’t cry now. Pull over and try to stop that bleeding and then get him to the emergency room. “Just hold on, Mike. Trust me. You’re going to be all right.”

  “Promise . . . me.” He was slumping forward in the seat. “Don’t want to . . .”

  Ms. MacGuire?”

  A doctor?

  Jane looked up quickly at the tall, fortyish man standing in the doorway of the waiting room. “How is he?”

  “Sorry. I’m not a doctor. I’m Detective Lee Manning. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Later,” she said curtly. She wished she could stop shaking. Dear God, she was scared. “I’m waiting for—”

  “The doctors are working on your friend. It’s a difficult operation. They won’t be out to talk to you for a while.”

  “That’s what they told me, but it’s been over four hours, dammit. No one’s said a word to me since they took him away.”

  “Operating rooms are busy places.” He came toward her. “And I’m afraid we have to get a statement from you. You showed up here with a victim suffering a gunshot wound and we have to find out what happened. The longer we wait, the greater chance we have of losing the perpetrator.”

  “I told them what happened when I checked Mike in to the hospital.”

  “Tell me again. You say robbery didn’t appear to be the motive?”

  “They didn’t ask for money. They wanted—I don’t know what they wanted. They said something about the girl not being any good to them dead. That’s me, I guess.”

  “Rape?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s possible. A kidnapping? Do your parents have a good deal of money?”

  “I’m an orphan, but I’ve lived with Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn since I was a kid. Joe’s a cop like you but he has private money. Eve is a forensic sculptor and she does more charity work than professional.”

  “Eve Duncan . . . I’ve heard of her.” He turned as another man came into the room carrying a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming coffee. “This is Sergeant Ken Fox. He thought you’d need a pick-me-up.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, ma’am.” Fox offered her the cup with a polite smile. “It’s black, but I’ll be glad to get you another one with cream if you like.”

  “Are you playing good cop, bad cop with me? It won’t work.” But she took the cup of coffee. She needed it. �
��Like I said, I was brought up by a cop.”

  “That must have come in handy tonight,” Manning said. “It’s hard to believe you were able to fight your way out of that alley.”

  “Believe what you like.” She sipped the coffee. “But find out from the doctors if Mike’s going to live. Those nurses gave me all kinds of soothing noncommittal assurances, but I don’t know whether to believe them. They’ll talk to you.”

  “They think he has a good chance.”

  “Just a chance?”

  “He was shot in the chest and he lost a good deal of blood.”

  “I know.” She moistened her lips. “I tried to stop it.”

  “You did a good job. The doctors say you may have saved his life. How did you know what to do?”

  “I took EMT training three years ago. It comes in handy. I sometimes go to disaster sites with my friend Sarah Logan, who does canine rescue work.”

  “You seem to have all kinds of talents.”

  She stiffened. “Are you being sarcastic? I don’t need that kind of hassle right now. I know you have a job to do, but back off.”

  “I wasn’t trying to intimidate you.” Manning grimaced. “Lord, you’re defensive.”

  “My friend has just been shot. I think I have a right to be defensive.”

  “Hey, we’re the good guys.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.” She gave him a cool glance. “And you haven’t shown me your ID yet. Let’s see it.”

  “Sorry.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his badge. “My error. Show her your ID, Fox.”

  She examined both IDs closely before handing them back. “Okay. Let’s get this over quickly. I’ll make a formal statement later but here’s what you need to know right now. It was too dark in that alley for me to be able to ID the first man who attacked us. But when I turned on the headlights I got a glimpse of the man who shot Mike.”

  “You’ll be able to recognize him?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her lips twisted. “No problem. I’m not going to forget him. Not ever. Give me a few hours after I get through this hell and I’ll give you a sketch of him.”

  “You’re an artist?”

  “It’s my major. And I’ve got a knack for portraiture. I’ve done sketches for the Atlanta PD before and they haven’t complained.” She took another sip of coffee. “Check with them if you don’t believe me.”

  “I believe you,” Fox said. “That will be a great help. But you only saw him for a moment. It would be hard to remember enough to—”

  “I’ll remember.” She leaned wearily back in the chair. “Look, I’ll do everything I can to help. I want to get this bastard. I don’t know what the hell this is all about, but Mike didn’t deserve this to happen to him. I’ve met a few people who did deserve to be shot.” She shivered. “But not Mike. Will you go check and see if there’s any—”

  “No news.” Joe Quinn’s face was grim as he came into the waiting room. “I checked as soon as I got here.”

  “Joe.” She jumped to her feet and ran across the room toward him. “Thank God you’re here. Those nurses were practically patting my head. They won’t tell me anything. They’re treating me like a kid.”

  “Heaven forbid. Don’t they know you’re twenty-one going on a hundred?” He hugged her and then turned to the two detectives. “Detective Joe Quinn. The head nurse tells me you’re local police?”

  Manning nodded. “Manning, and this is Sergeant Fox. Naturally, we have a few questions to ask the young lady. You understand.”

  “I understand that you’re to leave her alone right now. She’s not under suspicion, is she?”

  Manning shook his head. “If she shot him, then she did a hell of a lot to keep him alive afterward.”

  “She’s protected him all her life. There’s no way she would have shot him. Give her a chance to get herself together and she’ll cooperate later.”

  “So she told us,” Manning said. “I was just about to leave when you came. Just doing our job.”

  Jane was tired of dealing with them. “Where’s Eve, Joe? And how did you get here so quickly?”

  “I hired a jet as soon as you called, and Eve and I came ahead. Sandra is flying in from New Orleans, where she was vacationing. Eve stayed at the airport to meet her flight and bring her here. Sandra’s almost falling apart.”

  “I promised her I’d take care of him.” She could feel the tears sting her eyes. “I didn’t do it, Joe. I don’t know what happened. Everything went wrong.”

  “You did your best.”

  “Don’t tell me that. I didn’t do it.”

  “Okay, but Sandra had no right to saddle you with that kind of responsibility.”

  “She’s Eve’s mother. She loves Mike. Hell, I love Mike. I’d have done it anyway.”

  “We’ll wait in the hall,” Sergeant Fox said. “Whenever you’re ready to make a statement, Ms. MacGuire.”

  “Wait a minute. I’ll go with you,” Joe said. “I want to talk to you about the investigation.” He turned to Jane. “I’ll be right back. I want an update and then I’ll go back to the nurse’s desk and see if I can get more info about Mike.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re upset and it shows. They’ll be walking on eggshells around you. Let me do it. I’ll get right back to you.”

  “I don’t want to sit—” She stopped. He was right. She wiped her wet cheeks on the back of her hand. She couldn’t stop crying, dammit. “Hurry, Joe.”

  “I’ll hurry.” He brushed his lips on her forehead. “You did nothing wrong, Jane.”

  “That’s not true,” she said shakily. “I didn’t save him. Nothing could be more wrong than that.”

  2

  So what do you know about these sons of bitches?” Joe asked as soon as he was out of the room. “Any witnesses when they took off out of that alley?”

  Manning shook his head. “No one’s come forward yet. We’re not even sure there weren’t more than two men.”

  “Great.”

  “Look, we’re doing the best we can. This is a college town, and every parent of every student is going to be on our ass when they hear about this.”

  “And they should be.”

  “Ms. MacGuire offered to sketch the face of one of the perpetrators. Will it be accurate?”

  Joe nodded curtly. “If she saw him, you’ll be able to use it. She’s damn good.”

  Fox lifted a brow. “You wouldn’t be prejudiced?”

  “Definitely. All the way. But it’s still true. I’ve watched her do sketches of people she’d seen for only an instant while she was under extreme duress, and they were absolutely correct in every detail.”

  “The motive seems to be murky. Do you have the kind of money that would tempt someone to make a snatch?”

  “I’m not a Rockefeller or a Dupont but I’m comfortable.” He shrugged. “Who the hell knows how much money it would take? I’ve seen drug addicts who’d cut their mother’s throat for ten bucks.” He glanced at his watch. Eve should be on her way here with her mother. Jesus, he’d hoped to have something to tell them. “What about tire tracks? DNA evidence?”

  “We’ve got forensics going over the alley with a fine-tooth comb.” Manning glanced over his shoulder at the waiting-room door. “She’s a tough lady.”

  “You bet she is.” Tough and loyal and loving and, dammit, she’d had enough trouble in her life without this happening to her.

  “She was your ward?”

  Joe nodded. “She’s been with us since she was ten. Before that she was in a dozen foster-care facilities and virtually grew up on the streets.”

  “But she’s been on Easy Street since she’s been with you.”

  “If you call working every spare hour to pay her way through college Easy Street. Jane doesn’t take anything she can’t pay for.”

  “I wish I could say that about my son.” Fox was frowning. “She looks . . . familiar. She reminds me of someone. There’s something
about her face.”

  Oh, Jesus. Here we go again. “You’re right. She’s damn beautiful.” He changed the subject. “Which brings us back to another possible motive. Rape? Or white slavery?”

  “We’re checking with Vice on any report of—”

  “Shit.” The elevator doors had opened, and Joe saw Eve and Sandra get out. “Look, there’s Mike Fitzgerald’s mother. I’ve got to take her and Eve in to Jane. But I promised Jane a report on Mike. Will you try to pump one of those nurses and see what you come up with?”

  “Sure. I’ll do it,” Manning said as he started down the hall. “You go back and take care of your family.”

  Tough bastard. For a minute there I felt as if I was getting the third degree. I don’t know if I’d be able to keep my mind on the investigation if my family was involved,” Manning said as they headed for the nurses’ station. “And it’s clear he cares about the girl.”

  “Yeah.” Fox was still frowning thoughtfully. “Protective as the devil. Who did you say her—” He suddenly snapped his fingers. “Eve Duncan!”

  “What?”

  “She said she lived with Eve Duncan.”

  “So?”

  “So I remember who the kid reminds me of.”

  “Duncan?”

  “No, I saw a Discovery Channel show about a year ago about one of the reconstructions Duncan did of an actress buried in the ruins of Herculaneum two thousand years ago. At least, it was supposed to be her, but there was some kind of big investigation connected with . . .” He shook his head. “I can’t remember. I’ll have to go back and check on it. All I recall was that there was a big fuss about it at the time.”

  “You’re getting off track. Who does Jane MacGuire remind you of?”

  Manning glanced at him in surprise. “I’m not off track. It was the reconstruction. She’s a dead ringer for that woman Eve Duncan was supposed to be doing the reconstruction of.” He hesitated, searching for a name. “Cira.”

  Cira.

  The name was triggering memory in Manning too. He had a vague recollection of a statue and the reconstruction side by side in a newspaper. “Convenient. Then maybe Duncan isn’t as good at her job as she—” He broke off as the door to the operating room opened and two green-garbed doctors strode out. “It looks like we may not have to do any pumping. The operation must be over.”