Crossfire Read Online Free Page A

oxygen mask still covered his nose and mouth, his face was no longer deathly pale. Marcelle took heart from his improvement. Every time his chest rose and fell, she was thankful for the miracle.
    Doc Louis took a blood pressure reading, and noted the results in a small notebook. He looked pleased as he turned to her. “He’s strong, and he’s fighting hard. I think he will survive.”
    “I hope you’re right,” she said, stretching out on the matching twin bed. Now that all the stress was over, she had an overwhelming urge to sleep. She closed her eyes.
    ~ . ~
     
    Marcelle opened her eyes at Doc Louis’ touch. He held an icy glass of Coca-Cola in his hand. She must have dozed off for a few minutes.
    “This is exactly what you need, chéri.” He sat next to her and offered the soda. “Now, I want you to tell me the real story. I would like to know why I’m risking my freedom and reputation.”
    Marcelle sat up, and took the glass from him. “What gave me away?”
    “Well, you nearly convinced me, but...”
    “But....”
    “I don’t believe for one minute you would have kept it from me if you and this man had been seeing each other. On top of that, I don’t think you’ve seen the scars on his body. He’s no more a stunt man than I am. This man is either a professional soldier, or a criminal.”
    “Do you think Didier would have come to the same conclusion?”
    “Even if he did, he’ll do nothing to jeopardize me. We go back a long way. Just see that he gets the cycling jersey.”
    “I’ll send him a whole hamper of Ultima-Fabelta goodies, don’t worry.”
    “Good. Now, please tell me what happened?”
    Marcelle took a long sip of her Coke, studying her friend for a moment. Louis Gautier was of average height, with regular features, brown hair and kind blue eyes. On the wrong side of forty, he carried it well, showing only a few streaks of gray in his hair. He had the French habit of throwing his hands up at the slightest provocation, or giving an expressive Gallic shrug. He had been Jean-Michel’s doctor long before she entered her late husband’s life. The Frenchman was now the team doctor for her team, Ultima-Fabelta, on her recommendation, earning a massive salary. Yes, she could trust him with the truth.
    “Well,” she said, “you’re not going to believe me but here goes.”
    The words spilled from her in a rush, as if she could somehow purge her mind of the experience by passing it on to someone else. She worried about the expression of horror on Doc Louis’ face as she reached the end of her tale.
    “I can’t believe you killed him.”
    “What else was I to do? He threatened me with gang rape and death, and he wanted to kill Stefan. I don’t doubt that he and his pals had shot him in the first place.”
    “Why didn’t you go to the police? Leaving the scene of a crime is a serious offence. And murder...”
    “It wasn’t murder. I acted in self-defense, and he deserved what he got. As for going to the police, with my record, would they even have listened to me?” Her lip curled contemptuously. “I can imagine the headlines: Murderous Marcy strikes again! Innocent or not, that’ll spell the end of my career.”
    Louis’ eyes twinkled. “Murderous Marcy strikes again?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to wipe away his smile. He cleared his throat noisily. “Of course, you are right. So what do you plan to do?”
    “Well, there were no witnesses. You’re the only person I have told about this, and I won’t tell anyone else,” she gestured towards the bed, “not even him. I’ll tell him I found him at the post office, took him to hospital and then brought him here.”
    “He might not believe you.”
    “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Believe me, total silence is the way to go.”
    Louis listened to his friend’s matter of fact tone, so in contrast to her display earlier. She had already disassociated herself from what had happened, the same coping