Lethal Journey Read Online Free

mild concussion and her wrist is sprained. They say
she just clipped the tree in that fancy car. If it had been
head-on, we’d have quite a different outcome.”
    “Glad to hear
she’s okay.”
    No, Lauren had
never forgotten his voice. Now that voice, deep and rich, whirled
around her. She opened her eyes.
    His face
blurred, and yet she felt the need to lift her arms toward the
fuzzy outline.
    Features bent
and twisted, for a second became clear. Brown eyes stared down at
her then faded away. “Eric?”
    “In the
flesh.”
    What was he
doing here? As far as she knew he was still working homicide.
Lauren grasped the bed-rails and tried to sit up. Fire shot through
her body and she slumped back, defeated. Though her head throbbed,
reflected light glimmered over his olive skin, his smile shone down
on her.
    Another strike
of pain stabbed at her temples. “My head is killing me.”
    “I bet it is.
I’m happy to see you’re still in one piece. Christ, you could’ve
been killed.”
    His words
registered on her dizzied senses, the tone of his voice, edged with
concern. He sat beside her and placed a cool cloth across her
forehead. The tips of his fingers brushed against her cheek, gentle
and caring.
    His citrus and
woodsy scent was familiar and made her feel safe. Lauren looked at
him. His dark brown hair fell at the back of his neck a bit longer
than she remembered. He looked great, but tired. Odd how their
paths crossed again. Fate? Maybe.
    “You must have
stopped drinking otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
    “Been sober for
three and half years.”
    “I’m glad. I
liked you when you were sober.”
    The hospital
room door creaked open.
    “Miss
Taylor?”
    Lauren yanked
the blanket to her chest. “Yes?”
    Eric touched
her arm. “It’s okay. He’s with me.”
    An untrimmed
moustache almost completely covered the man’s thick top lip. He
looked like he was right out of the seventies.
    “I’m Pete
Hallman. I need to ask you a few questions.”
    “Eric, will you
stay with me?”
    “Sure.” He
nodded to his partner.
    Pete grabbed
the metal chair from the corner of the room and sat beside the bed.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pen and notebook. “Can
you tell us what you remember? If you need to stop, just say
so.”
    She drew a deep
breath. “Dad came to my house around seven. We chatted for a while,
and then we left for the Four Seasons for dinner.”
    “Did you notice
if you were followed to the restaurant?”
    “No.”
    Pete scribbled
in his notebook. “Any idea what time you left the restaurant?”
    God, her head
was going to explode. She chewed back a sob. “I think—ten-thirty.
I’m not sure.”
    Eric’s brown
eyes met hers. “It’s okay, take your time. What happened next?”
    “There was a
van. He was driving too fast for the lousy road conditions. I
decided to pull over and let the driver pass.”
    “Did he?” Pete
asked.
    “Yes. Then I
pulled back onto the road and then the van came back.”
    Eric stood.
“You sure it was the same van?”
    “Positive.
That’s about the only thing I am sure about.”
    “Color of the
van?”
    “Blue. Maybe
black. And larger than a minivan. Everything happened so fast and
it was so dark.” She glanced at Eric. Two deep lines of worry
appeared across his forehead, feather-like wrinkles formed around
his eyes. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
    His eyebrows
raised. “The precinct got a call about twenty minutes before the
accident. The caller said to keep a close eye on prosecutor,
Stephen Taylor and the new district attorney. Said they might run
into some problems.”
    She took a
quick sharp breath. “Jesus. This has to do with the trial. I can
feel it.”
    Eric looked at
Pete, and then back to her.
    Pete flipped
the notebook shut. “You know what you’re suggesting?”
    “It’s possible,
right? At this point Valdina has nothing to lose.”
    “Possible. But
if the mob wants you dead, you’re dead.” Eric