Red Alert by Jessica Andersen Read Free Book Online

elevator car with his cane in his fist, a weak defense against the dark shadow that dropped down the final feet separating them, landed heavily atop the elevator car, and clasped his shoulder.
    “You’re okay. Thank God.”
    Relief laced through Erik. It was Zach Cage. Rescue, not attack.
    “What happened?” the hospital administrator asked, then cursed. “Never mind. Dumb question. Is Meg hurt?”
    “She’s rattled,” Erik said as a coil of rope snaked down from above and the crackle of radio traffic announced the arrival of official personnel. “And frankly, so am I. You know what this means, don’t you?”
    Cage nodded grimly. “The hospital isn’t thetarget. These so-called accidents are focused on one of you guys. Question is, which one?”
    “I don’t know,” Erik admitted, “but I’m damn well going to find out.”
     
    THE NEXT HALF HOUR passed in a blur of firefighters and paramedics that seemed all too familiar to Meg.
    Two near-death experiences in two days. How was she supposed to deal with that?
    She didn’t know, but as she sat alone at a conference table in a bare, faintly cool room deep within the Chinatown police station, she gave herself a stern talking-to. “You’ve bungee jumped off a bridge. You’ve skydived. You’ve pedaled bikes off the sides of cliffs. Hell, you even base-jumped off a skyscraper once. You used to get a rush out of stuff like this.”
    So why were her hands shaking? Why was her stomach knotted and why were her knees doing a fair impression of Jell-O?
    Because those rushes were years in the past. And because she’d chosen the dangers. Over the past forty-eight hours, danger had come looking for her, and all she wanted to do was to run home and hide. She hadn’t signed up for this. She was a researcher, damn it, not a contestant on some freaky reality show where people volunteered to be buried in cement or dropped down elevator shafts in an effort to win a million dollars.
    Even as she gritted her teeth on the thought, the door opened, admitting Erik Falco and the two detectives who’d earlier introduced themselves asPeters and Sturgeon. They were easy to tell apart— Peters was the handsome, athletic one. Sturgeon had that Mr. Limpet thing going on. And Falco…
    Hell, she didn’t know what to think about him. Most of the time, he leaned on that two-toned cane as though he was utterly dependent on its support, scowling to let the world know he hated every minute of it. He didn’t want sympathy, but he also didn’t seem comfortable in his own skin, regardless of the expensive clothes and tasteful haircut. But once or twice she’d seen flashes of something else, like when he’d rescued her from the cement or shielded her body with his during the crash. Then, he’d seemed to grow bigger. Taller. Meaner.
    In those moments, he’d made her feel safe.
    But now…now he stumped into the room and dropped heavily into a chair opposite her at the round conference table. His handsome face hardened into a glare, as though everything was somehow her fault.
    Meg found herself bristling. “Don’t give me that look. If you hadn’t insisted on pursuing a deal I have no intention of making, none of this would have happened.”
    Detective Peters paused in the act of setting up his PDA to record the conversation and glanced at them. “What deal?”
    “Falco here wants to buy my patents, and can’t get it through his thick skull that NPT isn’t for sale,” Meg said. “Not to him, anyway.”
    Maybe she shouldn’t snipe at a man who’d let heruse his body as a landing pad when their elevator crashed. But business was business.
    Falco smiled at her with an expression that showed lots of teeth and very little warmth. “Like I said before, call me Erik. We’re going to be working closely together this week, so there’s no need to stand on formality.” He glanced at the detectives. “Unfortunately for Meg, she doesn’t hold veto power over the hospital’s decision.