Page 58 of Nicole's Shelter

He wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. Halfway through dialing Bart’s number, he stopped. More than one agency kept close tabs on the man’s truck stop and his friend knew how to avoid sticky situations.

Besides, the gang attack felt desperate. Inconvenient and frustrating, but desperate. He replayed the whole thing from the first biker blowing by the car to swapping weapons and vehicles with Bart.

There was no doubt in his mind if Nicole had been alone, she’d be dead. Those three had been bent on lethal action and whoever gave the order had high-level access. The only logical answer, the only reasonable assumption was the DEA agent. Even well-connected gangs didn’t have immediate access to traffic cameras and the ability to get inside fire investigations. Typically, they didn’t care.

His gut said the biker gang was secondary and no active threat to Nicole. She hadn’t said anything that indicated she’d wronged anyone in that world. The bikers must have been tools sent by Clifton. He had to find a way to push the rogue agent, to make the man panic and trip up publicly.

Rick had been involved with taking down warlords in various ugly corners of the world and none of them relinquished power without a fight. Everything he knew so far made Clifton look like a bully who believed he was above the law. Rick had zero tolerance for bullies and looked forward to serving up a little vengeance.

He sent an email to Eva, including Nicole’s real name and telling her he was taking Nicole back to the marshals’ office until he isolated the threat. If he was lucky, Eva would forgive him for lying because if his misdirection made her look stupid, she’d be hell bent on getting even.

But that was the kind of problem he’d look forward to once he solved Nicole’s situation. He knew Clifton wouldn’t go down easy. Wanting to give Cypress Security ‘plausible deniability’ if things turned ugly, he decided it was best if he went ‘offline’ from this point forward. Taking the battery out of his phone, he put the pieces in separate pockets and waited for morning.

Chapter 11

A few hours later, he heard Doc’s footsteps creak on the stairs and turn down the hallway.

“You should be in a bed,” he scolded.

“Morning, Doc.” Rick scrubbed at his face and enjoyed a big yawn. “If she checks out, we’ll be out of your way within the hour.” He wanted to see those negatives as soon as possible.

The doctor grunted. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Guess you’ll be stuck with us.” Rick laced his fingers and stretched his arms over his head. “She passed the concussion questions each time and claimed she was seeing shadows when she woke up around midnight.”

“Good. Looks like you’re moving well enough.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Pull off your shirt and let me see.”

Rick obeyed, turning around. The doc prodded the wound a bit before grumbling a general approval. “Keep it clean and give it time to mend.”

“Sure thing, Doc.”

“Hmph.” The doctor turned and rapped softly on the door. “Good morning,” he said as he pushed the door open and stepped inside, Rick on his heels.

Nicole wore the scrubs and was propped up in bed, the camera in her lap. “Ah, you look refreshed today.” He nodded at the camera. “Should I assume your eyesight is restored?”

“Things are still blurry, but much better.”

“Good, good.” He shined a light in her eyes and made her track his finger. “What’s your name?”

“Nicole Livingston.”

Rick breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“And his name?” The doctor jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Rick.

“Rick Dreyer,” she replied, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “Will my eyesight return to one hundred percent?”

“I expect so.” The doctor replied. “As the swelling eases, things should continue to improve. Let me look at those stitches.”

Nicole turned around and Rick watched the doc examine her. “Hmm. If you’re in this area next week you can check back with me and I’ll take those out or you can have your regular physician handle it and verify your vision is stable.”

Or, Rick thought, he would take them out if she was still in danger and putting up with him next week.

“Thank you.”

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