Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jason didn't need anyone to tell him what that god-awful sound was. He knew. And he cursed. Because he was well aware that someone was shooting at them.

Hell.

They were still a good five or six yards from his SUV. Too far to make it in a single dive. Especially for Lilly. As a temporary measure, Jason hooked his arm around Lilly's waist and pulled her off the sidewalk and into a cluster of shrubs. She was already headed in that direction anyway so thankfully she didn't take too hard of a fall.

Another shot tore through the night and slammed into the ground. Mere inches from Lilly's head.

So much for his temporary safety measure of being in the shrubs. To keep her alive, they'd have to move.

"Let's go," Jason ordered.

With his arm still around her, he drew his Glock and dragged Lilly out of the shrubbery and to the side of the SUV. It was safer than using the plants as a shield, but it didn't neutralize the danger, because judging from the angle of the two shots, the gunman was somewhere on a rooftop. That meant he or she was in a perfect position to adjust, re-aim and fire again.

And that's exactly what happened.

The shot skipped off the roof of his SUV, metal tearing through metal.

"Who's doing this?" Lilly mumbled. Not a question exactly. More like a furious, frustrated plea.

Jason heard the other officers scrambling for cover and position. Either or both would be able to return fire, but that didn't mean they could take out the shooter before he or she took out one of them. He moved his body over Lilly's, sheltering her as best he could, and he scanned the rooftops to see if he could catch a glimpse of the sniper.

Nothing.

For a few seconds.

The gunfire returned. Not a single shot, either. A barrage of deadly bullets that pelted the ground and the SUV. Jason felt totally helpless. All he could do was stay put and pray the shots would stop so he'd get his own opportunity to put an end to this. Unfortunately he couldn't just start firing random shots. They were literally in downtown San Antonio, and he didn't want to shoot anyone by mistake.

Beneath him, Jason could feel Lilly trembling, and he hated that once again she'd been placed in a situation where her life was at serious risk. Her question had been dead-on— Who's doing this? Because until he knew that, stopping it would be hit or miss.

Jason was damn tired of missing.

The shots continued for what seemed an eternity, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, they stopped.

He waited. Listened. For any sound to indicate the gunman was reloading. Or escaping. When he heard nothing other than the normal noises of the city, he turned and pinpointed the roof of the adjacent building. The spot where he believed the shots had been fired.

"Do you see him?" Lilly asked.

Because she lifted her head, Jason used his forearm to keep her down and hopefully out of harm's way. This lull could be a ploy by the gunman to get them to leave cover. He wasn't about to allow Lilly to take that risk.

"Anything?" Jason shouted to his fellow officers.

"Negative," they answered within seconds of each other.

And the silence continued. No shots. No out-of-place sounds.

Nothing.

"I've called for backup," one of the officers advised.

Good. It shouldn't take long for them to arrive, either, since they were only about three miles from headquarters. It was too bad, though, that the shooter could be long gone by then, as well.

"Keep a visual on the perimeter of that other building," Jason ordered the officers.

Because what went up had to come down, eventually. That wouldn't necessarily happen, though, at the front of the building. A more likely escape route would be the back. He considered going there, but he immediately ruled it out. The gunman was after Lilly. That didn't mean he or she wouldn't kill others to get to her, but if Jason left, Lilly would be unprotected. He could be playing right into the gunman's hands. Still, he had to do something to try to nail this guy.

While keeping a vigilant watch, Jason used his cell phone to contact one of the officers. This definitely wasn't something he wanted to shout out for the shooter to hear. "Take your partner and proceed to the back of that building where the shots originated. Try to cut off any potential escape route."

"Will do," the officer said, hanging up.

It was a huge undertaking. And probably a futile one. The building spread across nearly a third of the city block, and it would take a dozen or more cops to secure it properly. Still, it was better than nothing, and with backup on the way, they might get lucky.

Might.

"If this is about revenge," Lilly whispered, "then we're back to Wayne Sandling and Raymond Klein."

He heard a "but" at the end of Lilly's comment, and he understood it. Maybe it wasn't about revenge at all but something that Lilly knew. Or something she could learn. Possibly from those files. Or possibly something that'd been on that disk she'd planned to give to the police.

Of course, that left Jason with a huge question. If the person responsible for these latest attempts on Lilly's life had also been the one to run her off the road and steal the disk, then wasn't it finished?

Why had the attempts to kill her continued?

Either the perpetrator believed there was other incriminating information than just the one disk—info that was trapped inside Lilly's head—or, as Lilly said, it could be for revenge.

Or…

Jason almost hated to finish that thought, but he did. This could be related to none of that. But if so, then who would stand to gain something, anything, if Lilly were out of the way?

He didn't like the first thought that came to mind, but it came anyway.

Erica, maybe?

He was about to go through all the reasons why it wasn't possible for his nanny to be guilty when his phone rang.

"Detective Lawrence," Jason answered.

"We made it to the back of the building." It was one of the officers. "But it's not good news. We saw some one speed away in a dark-colored car. The license plate was covered with mud or something."

Jason cursed. "How about a description? Were you able to get that?"

"Negative."

Not that it helped, but he cursed some more. "Find Wayne Sandling and Raymond Klein and bring them in to headquarters. Now. I've got questions to ask, and by God, they'd better have the answers."

L ILLY COULDN'T STOP shaking.

It was as if her body had decided it'd had all it could take and it was going to punish her for the trauma. So she trembled from head to toe while she stood there, behind the interrogation mirror where the detectives had left Wayne Sandling.

Sandling certainly wasn't trembling. With his hands tucked behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him, he practically lounged at the austere metal table, waiting for the detectives to return so they could continue the questioning. Not that the questioning was actually leading anywhere: Sandling had denied any involvement in the shooting.

Despite being called out in the middle of the night to be interrogated by police for an attempted homicide, Sandling appeared well-rested and was dressed to perfection in a flawlessly tailored business suit. He was calm and collected.

Unlike her.

"I feel like a genuine wuss," Lilly muttered.

Jason glanced at her and frowned. "Why?"

She held up her hand to show him that she was shaking.

"That makes you feel like a wuss?" he challenged. "It's a normal human response to having your life threatened."

"You're not shaking," she pointed out.

"I'm a cop. I've been trained not to shake. But if it helps, I'm shaking inside."

She didn't believe him for a minute, but yes, it did help to think that he wasn't impervious to all of this. How could murder and mayhem ever become routine for anyone, even for a cop? Lilly knew it would be a long time, if ever, before she could forget the sound of those shots. They'd gotten lucky. Any one of those bullets could have killed them.

"The incident reports are done," Jason told her. "And it doesn't appear Sandling is on the verge of a confession, so I'll make arrangements for an officer to take you back to the house, okay?"

It wasn't the first time Jason had suggested that. It was the third time in the four-plus hours they'd been at police headquarters. She wasn't any more amenable to the offer now than the first time he'd made it.

"I want to be here when Raymond Klein is questioned," Lilly reminded him.

"It might be hours before they even find him."

"Then, I'll be here for hours."

Obviously not pleased about that, Jason huffed. But the sound had barely faded when he slipped his arm around her waist. "I don't suppose you'll let me get you a chair, either?" he asked.

Ah. So the arm thing wasn't a lovey kind of gesture. It was because she probably didn't look too steady on her feet. "It's strange, but all the fear and adrenaline have made my leg muscles feel stronger. Don't worry, though. I won't be suggesting gunfire and near death as a form of treatment for rehabbing coma patients."

"More sarcasm." The corner of his mouth lifted a fraction. "You're really good under pressure, you know that?"

"Right." Just in case he'd forgotten, she gave him a repeat demo of her trembling hand.

"Proves nothing. We've already established that. And you are great under pressure." He stopped, mumbled something incoherent. "But then, several of my perceptions about you have changed over the past few days."

Lilly considered that. Nodded. "I could say the same for you." She considered that some more. Shook her head in disgust. "But those perceptions have changed mainly because we have the hots for each other."

Judging from the look in his eyes, he wanted to deny that. Lilly knew he couldn't. "I shouldn't have kissed you," he concluded.

Yes, that particular intimate act was the proverbial point of no return, but she wouldn't let him shoulder the entire blame for this. "I kissed you back."

"It shouldn't have happened. I feel guilty as hell. Like I've betrayed my brother—"

"I know. I feel guilty, too." Not that it helped.

She'd known all along that Jason would see any attraction for her as the ultimate disloyalty to Greg. And there was a reason for that. Greg was…well, unrealistic when it came to her and the future he'd wanted them to have together. He certainly wouldn't have given Jason and her his blessing to jump headfirst into a relationship.

"I'll tell you what," she suggested, because they both needed an out. "Let's not kiss again, and that way we avoid this whole big guilt-fest. Agreed?"

Jason stared at her. "You think agreeing will make it happen?"

No way. But she kept that to herself. "I think we have to accept that abstinence is the way to go because we don't have time for the alternative." She tipped her head to Sandling. "We only have time for that. And by that, I mean I don't want us to die. I want Megan to be safe. The only way all of that can happen is for us to prove Sandling's responsible or else find the real culprit and put him or her behind bars."

It was a good speech. And it was even true. Well, for the most part. Lilly did want to keep Megan and Jason safe. She wanted the would-be killer stopped. But she didn't think all the distractions in the world would stop her from wanting the man beside her.

She'd relived that kiss a half dozen times. The taste of him. The way she'd felt when he'd held her in his arms. Everything about it was wrong, especially the timing. And yet, everything about it felt right. As long as it continued to feel right, she didn't think she had a snowball's chance in Hades of stopping what had already started.

But what exactly had started?

"Only a pathological liar could be that calm during an interrogation," she heard Jason say.

She followed his gaze, and it was fixed on Sandling and the detective who'd just reentered the room. "He probably knows we're watching him, and he wants to rile us with this iceman routine."

"Well, it's working," Jason snarled.

Yep, it was. She glared at Sandling as he gave a flippant chuckle when the detective reminded him that he had a motive for the shooting. A motive for the attempted smothering. And a motive for trying to get through the security gate in Jason's neighborhood.

That motive was her.

"So do a lot of other people," Sandling calmly concluded while he examined his nails. "Including, but not limited to, my former law partner, Raymond Klein. I trust you'll ask him these same boring questions?"

The detective didn't respond, and instead paraphrased a previous question about Sandling's whereabouts during the shooting. As he'd done before, Sandling denied everything. What Lilly couldn't decide—was he telling the truth? Sandling seemed a little too meticulous for what was essentially a string of incredibly non-meticulous crimes.

That didn't make him innocent.

The inconsistencies between his somewhat prissy demeanor and the crime scenes could have been intentional. A way to throw them off his trail. The tactic could stall them for weeks.

Or forever.

That created a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she groaned softly. "What are we going to do about Megan? How can we keep her safe?"

"We'll have another guard at the house starting today." Judging from his quick response, Jason had given this lots of thought. "A sort of cop-nanny. I might go ahead and try to set up a safe house. I'm not sure if it'd be any safer than a gated community, but I'm still considering it."

Lilly sorted through all that info and immediately discovered what he hadn't said. "What about Erica?"

"I think it might be a good idea if she isn't staying there with us any longer." He slid his arm from her waist and checked his watch. "I'll see if they've managed to locate Raymond Klein. I also need to call the crime lab to find out if they got anything from the video surveillance camera they took from the security gate."

She caught his arm to stop him from leaving. "Wait a minute. You didn't think I'd just let that part about Erica pass, did you? Why are you giving her the boot? Is it because she doesn't like me?"

"No." He hesitated and then repeated it. "No. It's because I'm not sure I can trust her."

It was like being hit by a big sack of rocks. Trust was the issue here? Lilly hadn't seen that one coming. Jealousy, yes. Possessiveness, definitely. Too many cooks in the kitchen scenario—that, too.

But not lack of trust.

Lilly would certainly have grilled Jason until he told all about this distrust issue. She would have if there hadn't been a knock at the door. Just one sharp rap, and it opened. It was Detective O'Reilly, the officer who'd been assisting Jason on the case.

"We found Raymond Klein," O'Reilly told them. "He's being taken into interrogation now."

That got Jason moving. He stepped around O'Reilly and into the hall. Lilly followed him. Or rather, she tried to. Jason turned and tried to stop her. But that didn't work, either. Because instead of deterring her from seeing her possible attacker, Klein came straight to them.

Lilly had no trouble recognizing the man. After all, they'd run into each other plenty of times during the investigation that'd led to his disbarment.

Klein hadn't changed at all in the past nineteen months. The same slightly shabby salt-and-pepper hair. The overly round face that was cragged with too many wrinkles considering he was only in his late thirties. All those wrinkles and his heavy brow gave him a permanent sourpuss expression.

"I thought we'd settled this," Klein greeted. He looked right past Jason and O'Reilly and aimed his greeting at her.

Jason stepped protectively in front of her. Lilly huffed and tried to reestablish her ground, but Jason would have no part in that. The best she could manage was to move to Jason's side so she could face Klein head-on.

"I want him tested for GSR," Jason relayed to O'Reilly.

"Gunshot residue?" Klein supplied. "You'll need a warrant for that."

"We already have it," Jason confirmed.

Klein's chin came up. "You're wasting your time, Detective."

That was probably true. Klein's hair was still damp, indicating a recent shampoo. If he was the shooter, he'd no doubt have worn gloves, showered and changed his clothes. He wasn't the sort of man to get caught with the obvious. It'd taken her twice as long to connect Klein to her father as it had for her to do the same for Sandling. In the end, the authorities had gotten him for a suspicious report he'd made to the city engineers. A report that had ultimately allowed her father to receive a contract where he'd taken a ton of money and provided minimal services in exchange. Klein's part in that deal had been barely enough to get him disbarred.

And he wasn't about to let her forget that.

Raymond Klein hated her. Lilly had no doubts about that. But the question was, had he done something about that hatred, or was this anger simply because he felt he'd been railroaded again?

Though it seemed a senseless exercise, Lilly tried to remember what'd happened that night of her accident. Had she seen her attacker's face? Was it Klein's face? And was that the reason he now wanted her dead—because she would be able to identify him if and when her memory returned? Unfortunately she could insert Sandling's name into that particular scenario and it would ring just as true.

Klein took one step toward her, halving the already meager distance between them. "I guess I wasn't clear enough when I phoned you. I told you I wouldn't be pulled back into this, and I meant it."

Jason put his hand on the butt on his Glock. "Since we're clearing things up, you won't be calling Lilly again. And you won't be getting in her face to issue any other threats."

No more steps toward her, but that didn't stop Klein's expression from tightening. "She and her father ruined my life."

"And you had no part in that?" Lilly asked.

"None," Klein quickly answered.

Jason obviously didn't buy a word of it. Glaring, he motioned toward the room behind them. "Escort him into interrogation," Jason told O'Reilly. He waited until O'Reilly had done that before he continued. "I need to be here during the questioning, but I'll get someone to give you a ride back to the house."

Yet another head-against-a-brick-wall moment. "And if I don't want to go?" she asked.

"Tough. You're going." He leaned in closer, until his mouth was practically right against her ear. "You've had a long day, an even longer night, and you need some rest. Please, just go. You don't have to worry about being there alone with Erica. I'll make sure an officer stays there with you until I get back."

She was about to argue, but O'Reilly came out of the interrogation room where he'd deposited Klein.

"Before you listen to Klein being grilled, you might want to hear what the crime lab had to say about that surveillance video taken from the security camera at the gate of your neighborhood." O'Reilly closed the door to the interrogation room. "They were able to partially enhance the image," he explained.

Lilly couldn't help it. Her hopes soared. This could be the break they'd been praying for.

"And were they able to determine who was behind the wheel of that car?" Jason asked.

"No."

She'd had mere seconds of that soaring hope, but that dashed them.

"But they were able to get a better look at the license plate," O'Reilly continued. "They only got a partial, but it was enough to run it through DMV and come up with a name."

All right. That was a reason to hope again. "Which is it—Wayne Sandling or Raymond Klein?" Lilly asked.

O'Reilly shook his head. "Neither. The car is registered to your former secretary, Corinne Davies."