Red Alert by Jessica Andersen Read Free Book Online Page B

too, how Falco’s reliance on the cane seemed to change with his mood.
    Or maybe that was her imagination, brought on by too much stress and her unwilling awareness of the man.
    She gathered her things and rose. “I guess I’ll head back to the lab.”
    Surprise flashed in his dark eyes. “You’re not going home? Surely, you can take the rest of the day off after the morning you’ve had.”
    “Sorry, no. I have work to do.”
    The truth was that she didn’t want to go home.
    It had been hard enough the night before, when she’d checked the doors and windows twice and still hadn’t felt completely safe. Now, knowing that the accident with the cement hadn’t been an accident at all, she didn’t imagine the wooden storm door with the single-barrel bolt would feel any safer. She was better off in the lab, which had levels of security between her and the outside world.
    “I’ll walk you over.”
    Though part of her wanted to tell him to leave her the hell alone and go back to his own life, she sucked it up and nodded. “Fine.” Then she slanted him a look. “The question is, am I safer with or without you?”
    Though the question could have too many layers, he grimaced and took it at face value. “I wish I knew. If I’m the target, then you’re safer without me. Ifyou’re the target, then you’re safer—at least marginally—with me. If we’re both being targeted…hell, who knows? We’re watching each other’s backs or we’re making it easier on them by leaving a single target. Hard to tell.”
    His answer was anything but reassuring, but Meg appreciated the honesty. She jerked her head toward the door. “Okay. Let’s go.”
    They were both tense as they left the Chinatown police station and turned toward Washington Street. It would take longer for them to find a cab and fight the lunchtime traffic than it would to walk the four short blocks back to Boston General. But walking left them out in the open.
    Unprotected.
    Meg wasn’t sure whether the creeping feeling that descended the back of her neck and set up residence in her stomach was the power of suggestion or not. As they waited to cross Washington Street, she glanced over her shoulder, looking for…damn, she didn’t know what she was looking for.
    “Relax,” Erik said quietly from beside her. “I’ve got your back.”
    The light turned then and the pedestrian sign went the white of “walk.” As they started across, she glanced at his stern, set profile. “Who’s got yours?”
    “I don’t need anyone to get my back. I’m a tough guy.” His lips twisted in a self-deprecating smile as he walked with a heavy hitch in his step. “Or not.”
    But Meg was starting to see the holes in his act. She remembered the detectives’ attitudes towardhim—part caution, part camaraderie. “You were a cop, weren’t you?”
    His step faltered, then resumed as they reached the other curb and turned up the final block to the hospital. “A long time ago.” His cynical smile twisted tighter. “Why? Does that make you feel safer? It shouldn’t. I’ve been a civilian for the past eight years.”
    “What happened?”
    “It’s not important,” he said flatly. “It has nothing to do with the attacks.”
    They reached the hospital and crossed the main atrium in a tense silence that told her there would be no more small talk.
    She paused at the stairs, where the door was propped open and the foot traffic was unusually heavy. She glanced over at the elevator lobby and her stomach tightened at the sight of crime scene tape and cops.
    “Let’s take the—” She broke off and shook her head. “Never mind. Sorry. We can take the other set of elevators.”
    “I can climb stairs,” he said sharply. “It’s a cane, not a wheelchair. You don’t need to make a big deal about it.”
    “Why not? You do,” Meg snapped, irritated with him, with the whole rotten situation. Then she blew out a breath. “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be.” He turned away and