“Well, after I broke my leg, I was less enthusiastic about jumping out of Blackhawks,” he muttered.
“You broke both legs, I heard.”
Chet sighed. “And an arm. Breaks never heal properly, even with good medical care.” He sighed again. “You try getting good medical care in…” He caught himself and closed his mouth.
“I wasn’t going to say a word,” Rourke told him.
“Well, don’t. I’m out of cigarettes. I’m going down the street and see if I can find anybody in the mob to sell me a pack under the table, if the police aren’t looking.”
“Smoking’s not illegal, is it?” Cappie asked.
“Any day now, it probably will be,” Chet said despondently. “Can’t spit without a federal permit these days,” he said, and kept muttering all the way out the door.
“Quick, tell me,” Cappie said to Rourke, “was he a sniper?”
“I’ve never been sure,” he told her with a grin. “But he and Cash Grier are pretty chummy.”
“Should that mean something?”
“Grier was a high-level government assassin in his younger days, but I didn’t tell you that,” he said firmly. “Some secrets have to be kept to save one’s skin.”
“Well!” she exclaimed. “I’d never have guessed.”
“Neither would most other people. I’m going down the hall to loiter and see if I see anybody I recognize. Keep the door locked and don’t answer it unless you recognize my voice, or Chet’s. Got that?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“When I do a job, I do a job,” he told her. He closed the door behind him when he left.
* * *
She was jumpy. With her protection, she shouldn’t have been, but she kept remembering her last sight of Frank Bartlett, cursing her for all he was worth when the judge announced his sentence. He’d been yelling vengeance at the top of his lungs, and he’d almost managed to get away from the sheriff’s deputy who had him in handcuffs. It had been a scary moment. Almost as scary as the memory of the night he’d beaten her.
She wrapped her arms around her rib cage and closed her eyes. She did hope they’d catch him before he got to her. Surely the job he’d done on Kell would guarantee him some quality prison time. But what if he got out again, after that? Would she have to live her entire life being afraid of Frank? After all, he could get out on good behavior, no matter how long his sentence was. Or he could hang a jury at his next trial. Or he could break out of prison. There were plenty of horrible possibilities, all of which would leave Cappie hiding behind locked doors as long as she lived. It wasn’t a possibility she looked forward to.
The sudden knock on the door brought a cry of panic to her lips. She moved toward the door, but she didn’t touch the knob. “Who…is it?” she called.
“Room service. We’re checking to see if your veterinarian has been delivered yet.”
She burst out laughing. She knew that curt voice, as well as she knew her own. “Bentley!” She moved closer to the door. “I don’t recall ordering a veterinarian.”
“Well, we’re delivering one to you anyway, just in case you regret not ordering him later,” he drawled.
She unlocked the door and gave him a droll look. “Nice tactics.”
He shrugged. “I’m desperate. You wouldn’t let me in if I just asked.” He looked behind her and the smile faded. “Where are your bodyguards?”
“Chet went looking for cigarettes and Rourke is down the hall checking for intruders.”
“And you’re in here alone.”
“Well, the door was locked until you asked to come in,” she pointed out.
“Fair enough. Want to come downstairs and have coffee and pie with me? Then we can go to see Kell.”
“I guess that would be okay. But I have to tell Rourke where I’m going…”
“He already knows,” came an amused voice from the general direction of her purse.