Dead Aim(9)

She dressed Sarah's wound and covered her. Sweet Jesus, why didn't she regain consciousness? Alex drew her protectively closer.

But her other hand tightened on the shovel.


Arapahoe Junction

A tall, muscular man straightened away from the door to Sarah's hospital room as Alex came down the hall. “Ms. Graham? I'm John Logan.”

She recognized him immediately from the photos Sarah had shown her. But the photographs couldn't capture the sheer dominant presence of the man. He had been frantic when Alex phoned him when they'd gotten to the hospital a few hours ago. Now he was fully in control and chilly, very chilly. How could she blame him, she thought wearily. He probably thought she was at fault for Sarah's injury, and he was right. “The doctors say that Sarah will be fine. She'll be out of here in a few days, but it will take another couple months to fully recuperate.”

“I know all that.” His words were curt. “What I don't know is how I'm supposed to make sure she has the time to recuperate.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Sarah tells me you're a good friend. Then you should know that her life is rescue. She needs to help people.” His lips tightened. “And it seems you're the current project.”

“I told her I didn't want her involved.”

“And did she listen? No, of course not. You're not only in trouble, you're her friend.” His tone became harsher. “Well, be a friend and get the hell out of her life for a while.”

Alex nodded. “I'll talk to her again.”

“Haven't you been listening to me? That won't do the job. You've got to be tucked away safe somewhere so that she can get well without worrying about you. Have you got that?”

She shook her head. “No, I don't know what the devil you're talking about.”

“I'm saying that I can't have you running around with people shooting at you.”

She grimaced. “I assure you that I'd like to avoid that too.”

“Good. Then here's what we're going to do. I'm going to talk to the FBI and arrange for them to put you in a safe house while they investigate both the helicopter crash and the attempt on your and Sarah's lives. You'll be comfortable and secure and it will solve—” He stopped as he saw her shaking her head. “Why the hell not?”

“I have a job to do too. I can't hide. I'll be careful and I'll accept FBI surveillance, but I won't crawl in a hole and let those bastards intimidate me.”

“You think that damn story is worth the risk?”

“I think finding the people who hurt my friend is worth the risk. And if they also caused that landslide and dam break, there's no question. I don't think you'd let yourself be hidden away, would you?”

“I'd do anything I had to do to save Sarah.” He stared her directly in the eye. “Under other circumstances I might admire your attitude, but I can't have you getting in the way. I love my wife and I won't have her hurt again.”

“She won't be hurt. I promise. I won't let her near me.”

“That's not good enough.” He muttered an oath. “Don't you think I'm going to go after the bastards who shot Sarah? But I can't do it now. I have to get her well first. Leave it to me.”

She shook her head.

He drew a deep breath. “Think about it. Reconsider. I'm taking Sarah to our place by the ocean. When she gets well enough to ask questions, I want to be able to tell her you're absolutely safe.”

“I'm sorry. There's no use talking anymore. I can't do it.”

A multitude of expressions flitted over his face as he watched her open the door. “Believe me, I'm sorry too.”

He turned and strode toward the policeman standing guard down the hall.

That had almost sounded like a threat, Alex thought. Logan clearly liked his own way and was terribly concerned about Sarah. Well, so was she. She had been terrified all the way to the hospital until she'd gotten the word that Sarah was going to be all right.

Sarah's eyes were closed as Alex approached the bed. But she must have sensed a presence, for her lids lifted. “Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“Blurry. They've got me doped up.” Her voice was slurred. “I think . . . Was John here?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Always wanted you to meet him.”

“I'd rather it not have been like this.”

“Where's Monty?”

“He's curled up beside your bed. I raised hell until they let him stay. It helped that they knew you were one of the search-and-rescue teams. You and the other rescue workers are their heroes.”

“Bull. But thanks for Monty. . . .” She yawned. “Sleepy.”

“I'll get out of here. I just wanted to see— I wanted to make sure you were okay.”