Page 86 of Fatal Strike
“Hey, partner.” He stared into her pale face. Thank God, she was alive. And he told Him so.
“Who gave up my hideaway?”
Weak but alert. Good. “SAC Thomas.” An IV trickled into a vein.
She nodded with half-mast eyes. “He’s listed as an ER contact.”
“I’m supposed to phone him after I hear your story.” He wrapped his hand around hers.
“Why did you send flowers with a cheesy note?”
Had they drugged her? “I didn’t send you anything.”
“I know.” She opened her copper-colored eyes. “Found out too late.”
He shook his head. “Back up. What do flowers have to do with a rattler in your apartment?”
She closed her eyes.
“Are you going to be sick?” He slid a look at the metal emesis basin.
“I hope not. How disgusting.” She frowned. “The snake was in the flower box.” She told him about the delivery and what happened after she was bitten. “I didn’t get a name from the deliveryman. About your height, young, blond hair.”
“Your apartment complex has security cameras. We’ll get him.”
She reached for a cup of ice, and he helped her.
His thoughts raced over her story. “You killed the snake with a knife?”
“It’s in pieces on my kitchen floor. I imagine my apartment looks gruesome.” She paused. “I’ll never be afraid of snakes again. Respect and caution but not fear.”
He wanted to shout if not for the hospital. “You destroyed your phobia.” He bent and brushed a kiss across her lips. “This is a congratulations kiss.”
“Nice.” Her face softened, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. “I suppose SAC Thomas has agents on this,” she said.
“As we speak, they’re sweeping your apartment.”
“It’s gruesome. But what about your place? A lot more areas to stick a rattler.”
“Those guys don’t want to mess with me.”
She bit her lip but a smile still escaped. “Those guys have no idea what a snakebit sniper can do.” She breathed in deeply. “I’m miserable company. Why don’t you head on home? Once this IV finishes, the doctor will release me.”
“Nope.” He drew up a chair to her bedside. “I’m staying until the doctor says you can go home.”
“It’ll be a while.”
“I sleep best in a chair.” He studied her. “What did the note with the flower box say?”
She huffed. “It wasn’t worth a rattler’s bite.” She glanced at the dripping IV. “If you’re going to stay, then I guess it’s my turn to spill my guts.”
“Slicing up a rattler has given you courage.”
“Or paralyzed my mind.” She breathed deeply in and out. “I’ll do my best.”
He squeezed her hand lightly and held it.
“I’m the oldest of seven siblings, six adopted brothers and sisters.”
