Page 107 of The Murder Club
Leaning forward, Dom studied the unmoving form with a stunned sense of disbelief. The man was wrapped in a brown blanket, which was why he hadn’t instantly recognized what he was seeing, but his face was visible. Dom’s breath tangled in his throat as he easily recognized Logan Donaldson. There was no mistaking the pudgy cheeks and thin strands of hair that wafted in the breeze. But that wasn’t what captured his attention. It was the wound in the center of his forehead. A wound that was leaking blood.
Yanking out his phone, Dom dialed 911 and quickly gave the address to the operator, along with the fact that Logan Donaldson was injured and lying in the driveway to Kaden Vaughn’s house. Then, keeping the call connected, he shoved it back in his pocket.
It looked as if Logan was unconscious and in desperate need of assistance. Which meant he couldn’t sit in his vehicle and wait for him to die. But Dom intended to be prepared. This could very well be the bait to lure him into an ambush.
He wanted his phone connected to 911 to capture whatever was happening.
Leaving the engine of his Land Rover running in case he needed a quick getaway, he climbed out and cautiously inched his way toward the motionless body, his gaze scanning the area for any potential dangers.
When he’d started chasing the BMW he’d assumed that Logan was the driver. He was the primary suspect, after all. Now it was obvious the assumption was wrong. So who was behind the wheel? And how had Logan ended up in front of the gates?
When he didn’t detect anything but the scurry of a squirrel across the yard beyond the gates, Dom knelt and pressed his fingers against Logan’s throat.
No heartbeat. And the skin was cold.
Shock jolted through Dom. Despite the bullet hole in the center of his forehead, he hadn’t actually expected to discover a corpse.
Dom straightened, a chill racing through him. He’d seen dead bodies, of course. Including his mother. And he’d even touched them. But there was something outrageously creepy about stumbling across a man who’d been murdered and then dumped like he was garbage.
With a grimace, Dom reminded himself this was a crime scene that shouldn’t be disturbed. The ambulance was no doubt on its way and because there was nothing he could do for the dead man it was time to return to his hunt for the silver car.
His decision made, he stepped away from the body, concentrating on the ground to make sure he didn’t disturb any footprints that might be near the victim. A commendable effort that was ruined as there was a crunch of wheels on gravel and he belatedly caught sight of the silver BMW that was hurtling toward him at a speed he couldn’t possibly outrun.
The distraction of the dead body combined with the hum of the Land Rover’s motor had kept Dom from recognizing the danger until it was too late. Now he could only watch in horror as the vehicle passed the SUV and aimed straight in his direction.
No, a voice sternly whispered in the back of his head. He wasn’t going to just stand there and die.
He’d spent endless days on movie sets watching Kaden practice for upcoming stunts. That certainly didn’t make him a pro, but it did warn him not to try to run or drop to the ground to try to avoid the oncoming car.
Squaring his shoulders, he spread his legs and sent up a silent prayer. Then, forcing himself to wait until the last possible second, he reached out his arms and jumped as high as he’d ever jumped in his life.
The desperate leap didn’t keep the front bumper from smashing into his legs, but instead of dragging him under the car and into the path of the tires, the impact propelled him up and over the hood.
He caught a glimpse of the driver through the front windshield, but before he could process what he was seeing, Dom slammed into that same windshield with skull-cracking force.
Pain splintered through him, the grinding agony so intense he feared that he’d not only cracked his skull but that more than one internal organ was damaged. And worse, he couldn’t move his legs. He was completely helpless.
Groaning, he tried to battle back the red mist that swirled through his brain.
Bailey was in danger.
He had to warn her.
He had to . . .
* * *
After Bailey grabbed her purse and slid out of the Range Rover she’d swiftly jogged to the nursing home entrance. She knew Dom well enough to realize he wasn’t leaving the lot until she was safely locked inside. Pressing in her password on the keypad, she opened the door and entered the front lobby with a small shiver. She had to trust that Dom wouldn’t do anything foolish. And that whatever happened he would keep his promise to return to her.
Yeah, that was gonna happen, she wryly acknowledged.
She was going to be worried sick until Dom was standing safe and sound directly in front of her.
Barely aware of the loud sound of chatter coming from the nearby dining room that was packed with guests eating large amounts of ice cream, Bailey forced herself to take in slow, deep breaths.
How long would he be gone? Five minutes? An hour?
Wishing she was at home so she could pace the floor without attracting attention, Bailey nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice spoke directly behind her.