Free Killing Secrets by K.L Docter Page B

of noise that announced the arrival of what appeared to be the entire available Denver police force, followed by an ambulance. Quickly surrounded by a sea of authority figures, the scene conjured unnerving memories of the day the FBI had cornered her outside a grocery store seven months ago, throwing her life into a tailspin.
    She fought a childish impulse to curl into a defensive ball. She had nothing left to hide.
    Well, almost nothing.
    Patrick rose from the couch as his brother strode through the crowd. Rachel knew exactly when the detective spotted the bloodstains on his brother’s shirt. His jaw tightened. “Dispatch didn’t say you were injured.” He shouted over his shoulder. “Get those paramedics over here!”
    “It’s Rachel’s,” Patrick explained. “This isn’t about me, Jack. Not this time.”
    One sandy-colored eyebrow quirked as he pointedly examined the ragged welts Rachel’s fingernails had left on Patrick’s tanned neck. She could have sworn the brothers communicated without uttering a word. Something else was going on here.
    There was no time to sort it out. One of the paramedics stepped behind her to examine her head injury. From her seat on the couch, she distractedly fielded questions by the second paramedic taking her vitals and, peering over his shoulder, she watched a pair of police officers escort Patrick’s crew back to the neighboring yard to take their statements. Jack spoke to several of the other officers, and they soon returned to their cars and pulled away.
    She wished she could hear the animated conversation taking place several feet away between Patrick and his brother, especially when the detective lost his temper. “For God’s sake, Patrick, why didn’t you…?”
    His voice lowered, the rest of his words were lost. But he glanced at Rachel and she had no doubts they were discussing her and the problem she’d brought to their door. She’d stupidly thrown Patrick in Greg’s face. She might as well have painted a target on the poor man.
    It didn’t help he’d provoked Greg further by threatening to have him arrested. Now the authorities were involved. What a disaster! They might as well have kicked up a nest of rattlesnakes between them because it was a sure bet Greg was going react. And it wouldn’t be pretty. He was at his worst when deprived of something he felt entitled to and, God knows, she and Amanda were property in his eyes.
    Property he was determined to reclaim.
    “I’d rather be thrown buck naked into a snake pit,” she murmured. The urge to put the entire country between her and her ex-husband pushed her to her feet. Her knees felt like bread pudding. They refused to hold her up. She sat back down with a plop, white shards of light flashing behind her eyes.
    “If you can sit tight a few more minutes, ma’am,” the first paramedic said quickly, “we’re not quite finished here.”
    The buzzing in her head gained strength. “Y-yes, you are.”
    The man exchanged a look with his partner. “Ma’am,” he said in a reasonable tone, “you should go to the hospital for x-rays. You lost consciousness for several minutes. With that contusion behind your ear, a concussion is not out of the question.”
    “I’ll sign whatever waivers you—”
    “What are you doing?” Patrick’s sharp question hit a second before Rachel registered that he and his brother had rejoined them on the porch. Jack hung back, while Patrick loomed over her like some kind of dark avenging warrior.
    Over six feet tall, he easily had thirty pounds on her ex-husband so the man’s sheer size should have intimidated her. Yet all she could think about was how safe she’d felt tucked under his arm when he confronted Greg on her behalf. Another, saner voice in her head reminded her she’d thought to find safe haven with Greg at one time, too. She didn’t give in to such self-delusions anymore. “I’m leaving.”
    “You mean you’re going to the hospital to get checked