Page 28 of Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard 6)

  “Don’t go to sleep just yet,” he said.

  “That’s a change. Everyone else who comes in here insists again and again that I sleep.”

  “Do you remember what you told me in recovery?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Was I talking a lot?”

  “Not too much,” Noah said with a laugh. “But you did say something about the shooting.”

  Her eyes widened with the returning memory. “Yes…Dave Trumbo tried to kill me.” Then, as though what she had said finally penetrated, she continued. “Why did he shoot me? What did I ever do to him?” She thought for a minute and said sarcastically, “I guess maybe I should have bought a car from him.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to think. She knew she wanted to tell Noah something else, but she couldn’t remember what it was.

  “You didn’t do anything to him,” he assured her. “You can sleep now. We’ll talk later.”

  Noah moved the chair close to Jordan and sat. He was so weary. If he could rest for just a minute…

  “Did you figure it out yet? I did.” Her voice interrupted his dreams.

  He looked over at her and saw a smile. “What did you figure out?”

  “The date—1284. And the crown.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “MacKenna’s research papers, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “The date isn’t a date.”

  Did Jordan know she wasn’t making any sense? “Okay,” he agreed, tentatively.

  “It’s Trumbo’s address. 1284 Royal Street. That’s where he lives. So why don’t you go there and get him so I can have a little chat with him?”

  Noah smiled. The old Jordan was coming back full force.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out earlier. In my defense,” she continued, “I was reading historical research. But you know what else?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Trumbo saw it. It’s the only way he could have known.”

  “What did he see?”

  “When he first met me, I was in Jaffee’s restaurant, and I had a lot of the research spread out on the table. He called it homework. He had to have seen it.”

  Her mouth was dry and her throat was sore. She swallowed and said, “Trumbo saw the date, 1284, and a crown. What he saw was his address in MacKenna’s papers, but we didn’t know what it was. The boxes I mailed…they’re inside my apartment. There might be more incriminating information about him in those pages. You should send someone over. It’s evidence now.”

  Noah made the call to Nick then and there. “We’ve got people on their way,” he assured her.

  “They’ll need my key.”

  “No they won’t. They can get in. You can rest now.”

  “So you didn’t catch him yet?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  Jordan’s eyelids drooped, and he waited until she’d drifted off before he closed his own eyes.

  An hour later, Nick shook him awake. “They’re waiting for us.”

  Noah sat up with a start. His hand automatically went for the snap on his holster. “What the…”

  “Wake up. They’re waiting,” Nick repeated.

  “Lower your voice. You’ll wake Jordan.”

  Nick laughed. “She’s already awake. You were out. We’ve been carrying on a conversation for a couple of minutes now.”

  It wasn’t until Noah stood up that he realized that Judge Buchanan and Jordan’s youngest brother, Zachary, were in the room with them. Nick motioned for Noah to follow him out to the hallway. Noah caught himself before he ordered a federal judge not to wear out his own daughter.

  Nick walked toward the elevators. “I’ve got some bad news,” he said. “Pruitt broke into Jordan’s apartment. He took the copies.”

  “Ah, hell.” Noah cursed his stupidity. “Why didn’t I send someone over there sooner?”

  “Jordan got shot. She’s been your priority…and mine.”

  Noah issued a deep sigh. He couldn’t let his guard down. He needed to be on his game now more than ever before. For Jordan’s sake. “I need caffeine.”

  “Pete’s waiting for us in the cafeteria. Food’s bad, but you should eat something. I did, and it was god-awful.”

  “Good advertisement. I can’t wait!”

  The elevator was taking too long, so they took the stairs. Dr. Morganstern was sitting alone at a corner table. Noah grabbed a soda and went over to join him.

  There was an untouched dinner salad in front of Pete. He saw Noah looking at it. “Reminds me of my days in medical school,” Pete said with a disgusted scowl, pushing the plate away. “Let’s get down to business,” he said. “There are several agents eager to take this case. They’re anxious to get Pruitt, and they want him alive.”

  “Hold on,” Nick said. “Are they thinking they’ll give him another pass if he’ll testify against some more of Chernoff’s associates?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. They’re being evasive.”

  “Pruitt killed three people in Serenity and was trying for four with Jordan. No way is this lowlife gonna get a pass,” Nick countered.

  “That is not our decision…”

  “Yes, it is.” Noah was emphatic.

  Nick backed him up. “Damn right.”

  Dr. Morganstern didn’t pull rank on them. “I happen to agree with you,” he said.

  “Where are these agents?” Nick asked.

  “Across town, waiting for the okay.”

  “Okay for what?”

  He sighed. “To go public with our search for Pruitt.”

  “That’s crazy,” Noah protested. “He’ll vanish.”

  “And what do you propose?” Pete asked.

  “They’re playing this all wrong,” said Noah.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Pruitt thinks he’s safe for now. But he doesn’t know what’s in those papers, and whether we have any more information about him.”

  “But how can you be sure that’s what he thinks?”

  “Because he’s here. Everyone’s on the lookout for him, and he hasn’t surfaced. Pruitt’s cautious. Jordan told me that she had the research papers spread out in front of him with his street number right there plain as day. He might suspect there’s other incriminating information in the professor’s research.”

  “He thinks he can still fix this,” Nick added.

  “Yes, and he’s halfway there,” Noah concurred. “He broke into Jordan’s apartment and got the copies.”

  “Now what?” Pete asked.

  “Jordan,” Noah answered. “Pruitt’s waiting to hear if she makes it or not.”

  The doctor drummed his fingers on the table. “If we put Pruitt’s name out there, we’ll lose him.”

  “Exactly,” Noah said. Nick nodded.

  “We can’t let that happen. You have a plan?” said Pete.

  Noah was glad he asked. “Yes, sir, I do. We’re setting a trap for this rat.”

  “Where?” Nick asked.

  Noah said, “I’m going to lure Pruitt back to Jordan’s apartment, but we’ll have to move fast to set it up.”

  Nick smiled, but Pete frowned, saying, “And how are you going to accomplish that?”

  “Just one phone call,” Noah answered. “That’s all it will take.”

  “ANGELA. THIS IS NOAH CLAYBORNE.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Noah!” On the other end of the phone, Angela was clearly surprised at his call. He heard a small crash and wondered if the waitress had just dropped some of Jaffee’s dishes. “You poor thing. How are you doing? We were devastated to hear about Jordan. It’s been all the talk around Serenity. How is she? We heard she was listed critical.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m trying to stay…hopeful, you know? It’s hard.”

  “Oh, I know how it is. We’re all praying for her. And you too.”

  “She hasn’t regained consciousness,” he said.

  He looked down at his notepad and drew

a line through the first of several pieces of information he wanted to give her.

  “She hasn’t? I’m so sorry. I sure wish there was something I could do.”

  “The reason I’m calling…”

  “Yes?” Angela said eagerly.

  “They gave me her things…you know. And I was going through her purse to get her phone so I could turn it off, and I saw a note she had written to herself to call Jaffee at the restaurant. I don’t know…I was just wondering if she did call him. If so, Jaffee was probably the last person…” Noah paused as his voice broke.

  He crossed off the second line. Was he overdoing it? Angela seemed to be buying it.

  “No, Jordan didn’t talk to him. She talked to me.” Angela gasped. “I was probably the last person she spoke to. She seemed happy and cheerful. She told me she was going to call Jaffee, but he never did hear from her.”

  “Yes,” Noah said. “That must have been when it happened. The gunman was trying to shoot her father, but Jordan got in his way. I blame myself,” he added sadly.

  “Why on earth would you blame yourself?” Angela asked.

  “Jordan was waiting for me to join her, but I ran into some people I knew, and I lost track of the time. We were going to go back to her apartment. She was so excited to show me…” His voice broke again.

  “Show you what?” Angela urged.

  “You know all those research papers she made copies of?”

  “Yes. She told me they were historical papers.”

  “That’s right. But she told me that when she checked some info on her computer, she spotted something she really wanted me to see, something that didn’t have anything to do with history, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

  He drew a line through another subject and continued. “I thought maybe she might have told Jaffee, but since she didn’t talk to him, I’ll have to get over there sometime and look myself. But not now. I’m not leaving the hospital. I wasn’t by her side when she got shot, but I’m going to be there when she wakes up, no matter how long it takes. We can look at the information on her computer together when she’s better. Whatever Jordan found will have to wait.”

  When their conversation ended, Noah hung up the phone and turned to Nick. “The word’s out.”

  “How long will it take to reach Pruitt?”

  “Hour, maybe two, tops.”

  THE NET WAS IN PLACE. TWO AGENTS WATCHED THE ENTRANCE TO Jordan’s apartment building and two more watched the back door. All four were well hidden. Pruitt could walk past any one of them and take no notice.

  Noah and Nick were parked at one end of the block in Nick’s car, and two other agents were also monitoring from their parked car at the block’s opposite end. A third vehicle with two more feds in it was parked in a driveway between buildings. Once Pruitt started down the street, they’d have him hemmed in.

  If he came down the street.

  They had been waiting for over two hours. Nick was lobbying to change locations and wait inside Jordan’s apartment. “We could trap him by the computer. We could have it all set up and spring on him. Wouldn’t you like a couple of minutes alone with him? I sure as hell would.”

  Noah rejected his plan. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “Okay then. We could spring on him as soon as he opens the apartment door.”

  “That wouldn’t work. It’s a bad idea too.”

  Nick sighed. “Why? I’m telling you we could spring—”

  Noah began to laugh. “What is it with you and springing?”

  “An element of surprise,” Nick explained with a deadpan expression.

  “Okay. So, as much as I understand your need to spring on Pruitt, I’m not gonna let you lie in wait up there.”

  Nick pulled an apple from his pocket. He wiped it on his sleeve and took a big bite.

  “Did I tell you about the fire at MacKenna’s house?” Noah asked.

  Nick took another bite before replying with his mouth full. “You said it burned down.”

  “It didn’t just burn, Nick. That fire was nuclear. You should have seen it. It’s like it imploded. The place was incinerated in a couple of minutes. Smoldered for a long time though.”

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  “Pruitt set that fire. He knows his way around chemicals.”

  “You did evacuate Jordan’s neighbors, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Noah answered.

  Several minutes passed in silence. The only sound was Nick chomping on his apple. “Too bad we can’t spring,” he said.

  “Someone’s coming.” Noah and Nick heard an agent’s excited whisper in their earpieces.

  “I see him. That’s him,” another said.

  “You sure it’s him?” the first asked.

  “Black jogging suit with the hood up…in August. That’s him. He’s sure walking slow.”

  The figure came around the corner and into Noah’s view. He leaned over the steering wheel to get a good look at him.

  “Is he carrying something? Yeah, he is. What is that?” Nick asked. He looked at Noah. “Could he be cooking up another fire?”

  The man turned and walked up the steps of Jordan’s apartment building.

  “We can’t let him get inside. We have to take him down in the street,” the agent closest to the man said. “Go!” he yelled.

  “Wait,” Noah ordered, but it was too late. Three overzealous agents swarmed into the street, guns drawn. Two pointed their guns in the man’s face while the third grabbed the box the man was dropping.

  Noah and Nick rushed forward.

  “That’s not him,” Noah yelled angrily.

  “What are you doing? I didn’t do anything wrong,” the man stammered. Barely more than a teenager, he was unshaven, and his hair looked like it hadn’t seen shampoo in a month. “Be careful with that box. It’s delicate. I’m not supposed to shake it.” The punk was so scared, he could barely get the words out.

  “What’s in the box?” one of the agents barked at him.

  “I don’t know. A guy gave me a hundred bucks to deliver it to his girlfriend. I’m supposed to leave it at her door. Look, honest. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Noah turned and sprinted back to his car. Nick was right on his heels, shouting back to the agents, “Get the bomb squad over here.” He pointed to one of them, “You got this?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nick dove into the car as Noah started the engine.

  “Call the hospital and check on Jordan,” Noah shouted. “Just to be sure.”

  He took the corner on two wheels. Slamming his foot on the accelerator, Noah hit the siren.

  “Do you think Pruitt’s onto us?” Nick asked as they raced through Boston’s streets.

  “No way of knowing. Pruitt could have set this kid up to do his dirty work and be on his way back to Texas, or he could have something else up his sleeve. Whatever his plan, we’ve got to make sure Jordan isn’t a part of it.”

  HE NEEDED TO TIME IT JUST RIGHT. ANY MINUTE NOW, THE messenger Pruitt had hired would be placing the gift-wrapped box outside of Jordan’s door. Liquid fire, that’s how he thought of his special brew. It had worked so beautifully on MacKenna’s house. And it would work beautifully again. There were enough chemicals inside that box to blow the top floor of the apartment building into the stratosphere and burn what was left to the ground. Probably overkill, he thought, but he wouldn’t have to worry that Jordan Buchanan’s computer might somehow still be operable.

  He’d set the timer and had exactly one hour before the explosion. He needed to get to Jordan before then. Once her apartment went up, the police and the FBI would be on her at the hospital like ants on a picnic. They would then know that Jordan had been the intended target of the shooting. But if Pruitt could get to her today, no one would ever know why.

  Thank God for small-town gossip. Pruitt had just arrived back at the motel, shredder in hand, when he’d gotten the phone call from his wife, Suzanne. She had just heard from Jaffee’

s wife, Lily, who had heard from Jaffee, who had heard from Angela that Jordan Buchanan was hanging on to life by a thread. It was just so sad that something this tragic had to happen to someone so young—and so nice. What was the world coming to? Three people killed in Serenity, and then this lovely young woman, who had been traumatized enough, goes home to Boston and gets shot down by some maniac who’s out for revenge against her father? And that handsome FBI agent, Noah Clayborne, who was with her in Serenity turned out to be more than just a friend. He had called Angela and could barely talk, he was so brokenhearted. Angela had told him that Jordan’s last phone call, right before she was shot, was to her. Angela said poor Noah Clayborne sounded absolutely lost. It didn’t look like poor Jordan was going to make it but he was searching for a ray of hope. He was trying to think positive thoughts, planning Jordan’s return home from the hospital. The last thing Jordan had said to him was something about those research papers she had come to Serenity to get. She was so excited for him to see some surprising information she’d stored on her computer—something she’d learned from the papers that the dead professor had given her. She was some sort of computer genius, everybody says. But now Noah may never know what Jordan wanted to tell him. It was all just so very sad….

  Suzanne cackled on, but Pruitt’s mind had strayed. What other information had Jordan found in Professor MacKenna’s notes? What was on her computer? Maybe she had already figured everything out.

  He walked into the hospital without anyone noticing. He looked down at his feet in case security cameras were pointed his way. He wasn’t worried he would be recognized. The police were looking for gangsters related to Judge Buchanan’s racketeering case, right? And even if Jordan could identify Dave Trumbo, she wouldn’t see him closely, not until it was too late.

  The security personnel didn’t pay much attention to him either. No reason to. He’d stopped at a big supermart where you could buy anything from toothpaste, to automotive parts, to professional uniforms. He’d picked up a pair of surgical scrubs. The hospital was a huge medical complex and there were so many physicians and nurses bustling about, no one paid Pruitt any attention.

  The elevator opened as soon as he pushed the button, and he rode alone up to the fifth floor, mentally practicing what he would say if he was stopped by a nurse. The second he stepped off the elevator he scanned the numbers beside the doors, looking for the one he’d been given when he’d called the information desk. An arrow indicated Jordan Buchanan’s room was around the corner on the right. He turned the corner and stopped. A uniformed police guard stood outside her door. Pruitt changed direction, and he had to change his plan as well.