He ignored her. Cate wasn’t positive he was even talking to her by then; he seemed to be muttering to himself. And she was only half listening, because she couldn’t hear him. All her concentration focused on him striking the match. It was an old restaurant book of matches. The first one didn’t spark.
He pulled another match from the book, tried again.
She saw the tiny flame…and flew. Flew at the flame, flew at him. She crashed a knee at the corner of the desk, saw the startled surprise in Purdue’s eyes, kept going.
The match flamed out, dropped, somewhere in the seconds when she dived on top of Purdue. They both tangled to the floor.
“Harm!” she screamed, but could barely get his name from her throat before Purdue reacted. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugged, wrenching every hair root on her head.
“Harm!” she screamed again.
Harm woke up with a jolt, for a moment disoriented by the dim room and crunchy leather couch beneath him. In an instant, of course, he recognized his office at the lab, and swung to his feet.
He could only think of one conceivable reason why he could possibly feel rested…
Cate had let him sleep.
Alarm hustled his heartbeat. She’d never really gotten it, that danger wasn’t like on TV where the bad guys always behaved in identifiable ways. Even good people could do unforgivable things if they were pushed to the wall. He’d known that forever. Just couldn’t nail which of the men had been pushed past the breaking point, no matter how hard he’d tried, and damn, but there was too little time left.
Rolling his shoulders to chase out some stiff kinks, he aimed first for the restroom and second for the coffee machine.
Five-ten, his watch claimed. She’d let him sleep for hours.
He figured he’d pour two fresh cups, one for her-even though he was going to yell at her when he delivered it.
And that was when he heard her muffled scream.
Both mugs clattered to the floor. He turned the corner at turbo speed, saw the door to Fiske’s office was closed, added up the bad news on instinct.
He backtracked, hit the security button just inside Arthur’s office-because it was the closest one-then sprinted toward Fiske’s. All the doors automatically locked when they were closed-yet another security measure he’d put in-but now it took him blasted, insanely long seconds to jab in the key code. He knew it, knew every key code in the whole damned place, but his usually terrific memory jammed up. Finally, finally, he heard the final click, then yanked at the doorknob.
He didn’t stop moving, didn’t have to, saw Cate’s body twisted half on, half under Purdue’s, and leaped in.
His hands clawed at Purdue’s shoulders, startling him, offering Harm a second’s advantage. It was all he needed. He yanked Purdue off, slammed him against the desk.
Cate yelped, scuttled out of the way, but it wasn’t over.
Something in Purdue sensed that he had nothing left to lose. Harm could see it in his eyes. He was desperate and cornered, and when he launched himself back at Harm, he went straight for the throat.
Harm twisted, went for a knee shot, but Purdue only gripped tighter, squeezed harder. Harm punched his weight into a roll, battered him back against the desk in a shattering head-knock, but Purdue still clawed tight around his neck. Harm saw red, then white, couldn’t find any air anywhere, anyhow.
But giving up wasn’t a choice. Giving up would have left Cate alone with a madman. That couldn’t happen. Wouldn’t happen. He twisted, stabbed, kicked. One of the kicks finally connected, because he heard Purdue gasp and loosen that nail-tight grip on his neck, just a little-but it was enough.
Harm jerked back, gasping for air and aiming a punch at the same time…only to see a picture frame crack on Purdue’s head. Glass shattered in a shower of tiny splinters. Purdue fell back, blood streaming from the gash on the side of his head.
Harm sank back, momentarily wrung out as much from relief as needing a minute to let his body recover. He wanted to laugh at the sight of Cate still bending over Purdue with the broken picture frame in her hands…but humor was really the last thing on his mind.
He met her eyes…and slowly lifted a hand.
She met his eyes…and slowly lowered a hand.
Their fingertips touched. Just the tips. The most basic communication that it was over, they’d both survived it, they were together. In that instant, in that crazily tender connection, Harm found a soul mate like he’d never imagined.
Then came the smiles. “Are you all right?”
Her hands were shaking. Her new black dinner dress had a sharp rip. A bruise was already coloring on her cheek and upper arm. But she answered the real question that mattered. “Fine. Ready to party,” Cate said. “You?”
“Couldn’t be better.” His throat felt raw-burned. His still couldn’t work up any volume in his voice, was starting to feel swelling in a knee and right hand. “Although I seem to be hearing sirens.”
The place was flooded with people by daybreak. Three carloads of police had showed up, along with an ambulance. Harm suspected that any high-level crime must be mighty rare in Cambridge, because everyone and his mother arrived to help, even if it was barely dawn on a Sunday morning.
Cate was separated from him for a while. He wasn’t sure who took her off or to where. The two ambulance medics seemed to think he needed some first aid-and for damn sure, Purdue did. The lead cop was a woman. She identified herself as Smythe, had some experienced life lines on her face, and came across as a one-woman army- efficient, cool, unshakeable. She pulled up a chair between him and Purdue.
“Something tells me this is too complicated to get any quick answers to,” she said.
“You’ve got that right. The bottom line is that Purdue-whose real name is John Henry Swisher-” Harm motioned to Purdue, who’d barely moved since the medic bent over him “-is a murderer, thief and embezzler. Although it’ll take a while to get it all laid out in black and white.”
For the first time, Purdue spoke. “Connolly. Harm. I need to talk you-alone.”
“You think? If I ever get you alone, you turkey, your face will never be that pretty again. You hurt Cate.”
“She jumped me. She was on top of me. She hit me with the picture frame. I didn’t do anything to her-”
“You pushed her off the top deck in Alaska. Did you forget that?”
The medic finished swabbing the side of Purdue’s face with something purple and started applying gauze. Purdue started to deny the accusation and swallowed instead.
Harm, never long on patience, jumped him-or almost did. The cool-eyed lieutenant’s face carefully got in his way. “I can do far more damage than you can,” Smythe promised him.
“You could also leave the room for just a couple of minutes.”
But Purdue wanted to keep talking. “Harm, whatever you think, at least let me set part of the record straight.”
Harm figured he was just going to hear excuses. He didn’t want to hear them. He was still seeing sick-red from mental instant replay of Cate struggling with the jerk, her eyes drenched with fear, her face pale with it. He didn’t doubt she’d jumped Purdue. He didn’t doubt she’d jump a bear-or a whale. Damn woman had more courage than an army.
But she wasn’t used to dealing with criminals.
Hell, none of them were. “There never
“Just spill it out,” Harm gruffed. All right, he couldn’t help but listen. And the lieutenant was certainly engaged. But since nothing was being recorded, nothing really counted-at least not in a court of law, where it mattered. So all Harm really wanted out of life right then was Cate. He wanted her in sight. Within touching range. Immediately. Nonstop for the next thirty years, give or take an extra thirty.
Still, Purdue was willing to confess. And for the sake of his uncle and everyone else involved in the lab, Harm really did want to find out whatever happened that turned this extraordinarily wonderful place into a nightmare.
