Burning Seduction (22 page)

J
ust as Trent
kicked the dirt from the heel of his boot on the rocker panel of his Jeep, he spotted something in his peripheral vision. His first thought was that Charlotte had followed him down the alley since it was something she would do. As he turned to check who or what it was, all he noticed was the barrel of a gun pointing straight at him, and his cop instincts clicked in. He reached across his body for his weapon, only to realize he wasn’t carrying. Shit.

Trent ducked a split second before a bullet skidded across the top of his Jeep, whizzing and pinging over his head. The shot that followed failed to do any personal damage, but adrenaline still rushed through him. He dove into the car and reached across to his glove compartment. He wrenched it open, withdrew his spare, and clicked off the safety.

Footsteps sounded across the lot, and Trent slid back out of the car, keeping just below the window. As the man headed away from him and toward the alley, all Trent could think of was that the shooter was running toward the front where Charlotte was standing, and fear jacked up his heartbeat. Acting on instinct, Trent took aim and fired, but when the man didn’t falter, he figured he’d missed. Damn.

The assailant then disappeared around the corner. Faster than Trent had ever moved before, he sprinted after the man, his gun aimed at the retreating figure’s back. As he chased him down the water-filled alley, Trent was so focused on catching the shooter that he barely caught sight of the darkened lump near the ground. Had it not been for the moan, he might never have looked down.

It was a person, and Trent’s mind fractured. He tried to watch which way the man turned when he reached the street, and at the same time check on the injured person. As he stepped toward the prone figure, the light from the wall shown on her face, and all thoughts of capturing his attacker flew out of his mind.

It was Charlotte. Trent dropped to his knees and the cold water seeped up his leg, but he barely noticed the discomfort. “Charlotte?”

Not knowing if she was seriously injured, he didn’t want to move her, yet he couldn’t leave her for long sitting in the cold.

She lifted a hand and placed it on her bloody cheek then scooted back toward the wall. “Don’t hurt me.”

Fuck. “Charlotte, it’s me, Trent. Are you okay?” That was a stupid question as clearly she wasn’t. Only then did he recall hearing another gunshot after the man sped down the alley. “Are you shot?”

His throat nearly clogged awaiting her answer. Even after he’d been hit in the leg chasing the terrorists, he hadn’t been this scared.

“Trent?” Thank God his presence registered. Her voice sounded a lot stronger, and she wasn’t crying in pain, which gave him hope.

Trent wanted nothing more than to hold her, but he needed to be cautious. “Yes, it’s me. Can I help you up?”

“You’re okay! I heard shots.” Her voice sounded far away.

“I’m fine. What about you?”

“He hit me.” She nearly choked out the words.

Heavy dread instantly filled him. “Where are you hurt?” Trent pulled out his phone and called 911. She clearly needed help regardless of the extent of her injuries.

“In the face.”

She had a small cut on her cheek, but from the size, it didn’t come from a bullet. The dispatcher answered and asked him the nature of the emergency. Trent relayed his location and that a woman had been injured, possibly shot. They assured him they’d be there as quickly as they could.

Keeping an eye on the alley, he blocked Charlotte’s body from view. Who the fuck was trying to kill him? He wanted to question Charlotte why she was even in the alley, but now wasn’t the time. He had to make certain she remained safe until help arrived.

When she pressed her hands against the wall and tried to stand, Trent rushed to her side. With one arm around her waist, he slowly lifted her up and then gathered her against his chest. “Where are you hurt?

She rubbed the back of her head. “I heard the shots and I ran down the alley. This man in a ski mask charged me.”

Her evasive answer worried him. “Charlotte. Look at me.” She turned her head to face him and winced. “Where exactly are you hurt?” he asked for the third time, but damn it, he needed to know.

“I told you. He smashed my face with his elbow and then I hit my head against the wall.”

No, she hadn’t said that. “Tell me what happened.” Reconstructing the order of events might take her mind off her injuries.

“After I hit the wall, my vision blurred and my knees just crumbled. As I was slowly falling, I got off a shot, but I don’t think I hit him.”

A kaleidoscope of emotions spun through him, one of which was anger, but he tamped that down. “I heard that shot.” He was relieved Charlotte had been the aggressor and not the other way around. “Did you black out?”

“I think so. Yeah.”

Damn. That meant she had a concussion. “The ambulance should be here soon.” No sooner had he said the words than a siren sounded. Trent gently lifted her into his arms and sloshed through the water toward the front. Lights glared down the alley as the vehicle turned in, forcing Trent to move to the side.

“I can stand,” she said.

Even with a concussion, Charlotte was Miss Independent. “I know you can, but I like holding you.”

The ambulance stopped twenty feet in front of them, and then the passenger side whipped open along with the back door. A minute later, two paramedics came toward them pushing a gurney. As they neared, the light from the building shone on Stone Benson’s face, but Trent couldn’t identify the other man.

“Trent,” Stone said. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Trent placed Charlotte on the gurney.

She lifted her forearm. “He wasn’t there. I was.” She gave a brief description of the man hitting her. Clearly, Charlotte Hart was a force to be reckoned with.

After she told him what she remembered, Trent stepped back to let the two experts do their job. As they moved their hands up and down her body, they asked her a series of questions about her injuries. They then rolled her to the ambulance.

Once she was securely inside, Stone faced him. “We’ll have the doctors check her out. She has a concussion and possibly a broken cheek.”

His heart tripped. “I’ll follow you to the hospital,” Trent said.

Stone placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”

He could only hope.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever. Trent kept replaying the series of events, trying to decide where things had gone wrong. He’d told Charlotte to stay put, and yet she hadn’t listened, and that worried him. His ego should be boosted that she was willing to charge into the unknown to save him, but sometimes she just didn’t think. He was the cop, damn it, not her.

Aw hell, it wasn’t really her fault. If he hadn’t asked her to dinner in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. This incident only confirmed that her being with him could put her in danger at any time.

With his cell phone on speaker, he called Cade, and his partner answered quickly. “What’s up?”

As factually as he could, Trent relayed what happened, including him failing to chase after the shooter. “The moment I saw Charlotte, I had to stop.”

“You did the right thing.”

“But the shooter escaped. I’m on my way to the hospital now to be with her.”

“Good. I’ll put out an APB for the man. Can you give me a description?”

“That’s the problem. The man wore a mask and it was dark. All I can say is that he was about six-feet tall and moved easily.”

“Not much to go on. Looks like we can rule out Elaine Goddard, assuming the perpetrator was someone involved with Bill Goddard’s death. She hasn’t left her house all evening.”

“She could have hired the person.”

“You worry about Charlotte, and I’ll work on locating the whereabouts of each of our murder suspects.”

“Vic is keeping tabs on John Samuels. I’ll ask him where he was tonight.” Trent had to call Charlotte’s parents anyway to let them know what happened.

“I’ll stay in touch.”

The hospital came into view and Trent pulled his Jeep as close to the front entrance as possible. After scanning the lot for someone in a ski mask, and not spotting anyone, he jumped out and ran toward the front entrance. Despite flashing his badge, he was asked to wait until the doctor finished examining Charlotte.

Pacing one corner of the waiting room, he called her dad. Vic had already blamed Trent for sending her into John Samuels’s home, so he could only imagine his reaction to this fiasco.

“Hey, Trent.”

Vic sounded in a good mood but that would end shortly. “I’m afraid Charlotte had a little incident.” He filled him in as best he could, leaving out the part about how disoriented Charlotte had been. “I’m at the hospital now waiting to hear what the doctor has to say.”

“El and I are on our way now.” He disconnected.

While Vic hadn’t asked him more than one or two questions, Trent was certain there would be plenty to come.

Within a few minutes, Stone appeared from down the hall. “Charlotte’s in room number three if you want to go in.”

“How is she?”

“She’ll soon be headed in for an X-ray to check on her face. Hopefully her cheek isn’t cracked.”

Guilt assaulted him again. “Will she have to spend the night?” Knowing Charlotte, she’d be really upset, especially with needing to open her store tomorrow.

“That’s up to the doctor.”

Trent ached for her. He rushed to her room, pulled back the curtain, and stepped inside. Seeing Charlotte in bed, with pain lacing her face, broke his heart. She looked so small under the sheets. Her hair was tangled and her face pale—and it was all his fault.

“Hey,” he said as he stepped over to the bed.

She tried to smile then stopped. “Face hurts.”

“You don’t have to talk. I’m really sorry you got messed up in this stuff.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said not moving her mouth much. “You told me to stay by the front and I didn’t listen. When I heard the gunshots, I panicked, imagining you were lying on the ground bleeding. I don’t know what I thought I was going to do when I found you.” She glanced off to the side then turned back to him. “Truthfully, I wasn’t thinking at all.”

He agreed but no good would come from confirming her statement. He picked up her hand and gently squeezed it. “I appreciate your concern.” Telling her that she should always do as he instructed would only make matters worse between them.

She asked what had happened, and he told her what he knew. He was in the middle of questioning her about her condition when voices sounded down the hall, one of which belonged to an irate Vic Hart. Seconds later her parents barreled in. Her mom appeared both angry and frightened and her dad looked as if he was ready to kill someone. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be him.

Her mom rushed over to her side. “Oh, Charlotte, how are you, honey?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit sore.”

Charlotte would downplay the near tragedy. Feeling like an outsider, Trent stepped toward the exit. Now probably wasn’t the time to ask Vic about John Samuels, but he needed to know if Charlotte was in further danger. Whoever had shot at him and injured Charlotte might believe she recognized him, even with him wearing a mask.

“May I speak with you outside” Trent asked.

“Make it fast. I want to be with my daughter.”

Trent could totally understand. They edged down the hallway, out of Charlotte’s earshot. “By any chance were you watching John Samuels this evening?” He would like to be able to cross one name off the list.

“I was until about two hours ago. El called and asked if I would help with something at home. I was tempted to say that I needed to remain on the job, but then I realized that was what I kept telling Ellie all those years ago. It’s taken me a long time, but I’ve finally realized that my wife has to come first from now on.”

Trent was a bit disappointed at the lack of surveillance, but he totally understood. “I can’t expect you to follow him twenty-four hours a day. I appreciate you tailing him for as much as you do. Where was he?”

“At home. And no, Elaine Goddard wasn’t with him.” His expression turned even harder, if that was possible. “Excuse me. I need to take care of Charlotte.”

Vic headed inside, anger rolling off him in waves, implying Trent was no longer capable of taking care of his daughter and that stung because he might be right.

Chapter Twenty-Two