Suddenly, footsteps came rushing behind him. He started to turn in the narrow stairway, wrestling the gun from his pocket. A sharp blow caught him across the back of his skull. He felt no pain. Not even as his limp body tumbled to the floor below.

Chapter 12

The pain came with consciousness, followed by a voice, distant and hollow at first, then stronger as his head cleared.

“Jesse, lie still. I’ve called an ambulance.”

A face hovered above him and blond hair brushed his cheek. He thought it was Tracy. He was confused. Tracy was a world away.

“It’s Lisa,” the woman said. “I saw the window on the back door was broken. Someone threw the dead bolt. Did you see who?”

Jesse realized he must have done a complete somersault. He lay on his back, his head at the foot of the stairs. The woman knelt over him. He answered her question by shaking his head. The room swam around him.

“It’s okay. I’ve also called the police. They can get your statement at the hospital.”

Jesse raised his head enough to see the weight bench. The space beneath was empty. The bag was gone.

“Ethel,” he whispered. “I need to talk to Ethel.”

“She’s not here.”

“I know. She went to Richmond. Jonathan Finch was killed this morning.”

Lisa took a deep breath. “So, it was him. We heard an agent had been shot, but the name was being withheld.”

Sirens drew closer for the second time that morning.

Lisa stood. “I’ll get in touch with Ethel after we get you squared away. The EMTs will want to stabilize your neck and bring you out on a gurney. I’ll handle the police.”

For the first time, Jesse noticed she held a pistol in one hand and her phone in the other. FBI Special Agent Lisa Draper was also one of Ethel’s roomers. Lisa wasn’t supposed to be back until tonight. How late was it?

Jesse brought his hand to his head and tenderly explored. He found a lump the size of a golf ball behind his right ear. Even slight pressure from the tips of his fingers elicited pain. He moved up to the crown and found a similar knot. One must have come from the intruder’s attack, the other when his head hit a step or the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to recall any details. But all he remembered was the sound of quick steps behind him just before the blow.

“Promise me you’ll lie still,” Lisa reiterated. “I want to bring everyone through the house and not disturb the back door.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where the break-in occurred. I need to preserve the scene.” She left him on the floor with unspoken questions.