Tyson hurried down the stairs to find Harry Jenkins bending over Sam who was on the floor. There was blood on Sam's face, one eye was black and swollen nearly closed. Tyson reached for Harry's collar and jerked him backward, tossing him hard against one of the many tables bolted into the floor. Harry yelled something unintelligible, but Tyson was on him, yanking him to his feet.
"Stop!" Sam yelled. "No, Ty. It wasn't him. Martinelli's men were here."
Tyson reluctantly let go of Harry to turn back and help his cousin off the floor. As Ty gripped Sam and drew him up, Sam's eyes went wide, the only warning, but Tyson whipped his head to one side. Even with the quick movement, Harry clipped him on the jaw with his fist.
"You son of a bitch, you sent the cops after me," Harry accused him, backpedaling as Tyson came at him again. He held up both hands. "You deserved that. They held me for hours. Do you have any idea how humiliating that can be? You're the one who should be locked up."
Tyson glared at Harry. "This time maybe they'll throw the key away. What the hell are you doing here?"
"What do you think? You had the cops haul me out of my hotel room in front of everyone and take me in for questioning. I had to call the lawyers from the lab." Harry took a step toward Tyson. "You went too far this time."
"How'd you get down here?" Tyson asked as he inspected his cousin's face.
Guilt crept into Harry's expression. "I wanted to see what you were doing. I have the right to see."
Sam rubbed the bridge of his broken nose. "I caught him down here with a baseball bat. He was about to have a go at your computer when Martinelli's men jumped me. Harry hid under the table while they pummeled me." Sam righted one of the chairs in front of the four computers and sat down. "Martinelli means business, Ty. I think he might have me killed if I don't do what he wants."
"I hid under the table because they had guns." Harry defended himself. "It wasn't my affair. I wasn't about to get shot over some gambling debt."
"You're a real humanitarian, Harry," Tyson said, contemptuously. "You don't mind breaking into my house and vandalizing my work, but you won't aid Sam when someone is assaulting him."
"It isn't your work," Harry objected. "It's my work. And I'm not letting you steal it this time."
Tyson ignored Harry's outburst as he examined Sam's puffy face. "How many of them?"
"Two. There might have been a third looking out. I had the feeling they were hoping to find you home tonight, not me. I was running late for work, but I came down here to get the dishes and throw them in the sink. I knew you'd forget. Then Harry showed up with his baseball bat and Martinelli's crew came a few minutes later."
"Who broke all that glass?" Tyson stared Harry down as he asked.
"Not me," Harry denied.
"Martinelli's men were smashing things," Sam confirmed.
"Why didn't you just pay them off?" Tyson asked. "The equipment down here is worth a fortune, not to mention if they destroyed any part of my research."
"I offered the money to them, but they said no, the deal was Martinelli would forgive the debt if Libby talked to him. I tried to explain I didn't have any control over Libby, but they seemed very aware that you do." Sam leaned his head into the heel of his hand. "I've got to get to work, Ty. Look at me."
"Harry, get out of here and don't come back to my home. If you do, I'm having you arrested. You might also consider updating your resume because the next time I talk with Edward, your name is going to come up."
Harry's face turned bright red. He huffed out his breath, choking as he tried to respond. "You can't do that. You wouldn't dare."
"Not only can I, Harry, but I'll take great pleasure in it. Get the hell out of my house. And leave the baseball bat."
Harry spit on the floor. "You're disgusting, Derrick. You'd do anything at all to be the big man. Well, I know all about your little love nest and I saw the papers with the pictures of you starring in your own porn movie, having a threesome with some hot little rock star. I'll bet the doc doesn't know you're two-timing her."
Sam waited until Harry had stormed up the stairs before he lifted one eyebrow. "Porn movie? Threesomes? Why the hell wasn't I invited? I used to have all the fun, now you're turning into a regular playboy hustler." He flashed a wan grin, then flinched when it pulled on his swollen, cut mouth.
"Yeah, that would be me, playboy of the century," Tyson replied, wrapping his arm around his cousin. "Let's get you up the stairs. Did they break anything?"
"I don't think so, but I'm as sore as hell."
"I'll bet Libby's already called nine-one-one. I left her outside and told her to call if I didn't come back right away," Tyson said. "Damn, that's all we need, the cops showing up and asking about gambling debts."
"I'm sorry, Ty. I've been asking around about the Gambler's Anonymous meetings. It's not like they have anything like that around Sea Haven."
"Don't worry about it, Sam. We'll take care of this. I'm going to talk to Ed myself."
"I think you're becoming a violent man, Ty," Sam said, another grin slipping through. "You sound as mean as a snake."
"I'm beginning to feel violent. Ed should have taken the money. I'm getting tired of threats against Libby and you. If someone wants to come after me, fine, but they'd better leave my family out of it."
Sam hunched into a chair in the kitchen. "Man, I think someone got in a couple of really good kicks. Maybe your girlfriend can work her supposed magic on me. I could use it. I think I'll just sit here and rest while you go get her."
Tyson hesitated. Sam was rocking back and forth, his arms hugging his midsection. He was afraid Sam might have internal damage. "I'll just be a couple of minutes. Don't try to do anything."
"I was thinking of dancing on the counter," Sam quipped and waved him off.
Tyson hurried back outside. Libby had the car running and was pacing back and forth. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. "You scared me, especially when Harry came out. He was so angry, Ty. He really hates you."
"Did he touch you?"
Libby shook her head. "No, he just called you a lot of names. What happened down there?"
Tyson swept his arm around her and guided her up the stairs to the front door.
"Sam's hurt. Apparently he had a visit from Ed Martinelli's men. They beat the hell out of him and that coward Harry just let them do it. Did you call the sheriff?"
"Yes, you were gone for what seemed forever. Should I tell them not to come?" She hurried through the living room. "How hurt is he? Should we call an ambulance?"
He shook his head. "Bruises and one eye swelling shut, but they kicked him. You'll have to see if he has internal injuries. I want to make out a complaint against Martinelli's men. I ought to have Harry arrested for breaking and entering. He brought a baseball bat with him and he was going to destroy my laboratory, but Martinelli's men did it for him."
"Oh, no, Ty, not all your work." Libby entered the kitchen and went straight to Sam. He looked pale, sweaty and was breathing hard. "Maybe you should help him lie down on the couch in the living room, Tyson. I can examine him there. Sam, can you breathe all right?"
He nodded. "There's a first aid kit in the lab, if you think you'll need it, Libby. It's in the second cupboard at the back of the lab."
"I can get it," Tyson said.
"I don't think I can walk into the living room," Sam protested. "You're going to have to help me."
"Take him on in," Libby directed. "It should only take me a minute to get the kit. I'll need some towels and water, too."
She didn't wait for Tyson to agree, but headed down the basement stairs. The lights were still on and she could see glass smashed on the floor and books and equipment on the floor. Careful not to disturb anything in case the sheriff wanted pictures for evidence, she kept to the outside edge of the room as she made her way to the bank of cupboards at the back of the laboratory. There were cabinets and cupboards completely along the back wall. She chose the right side to start looking.
r /> She couldn't believe someone would be so stupid as to destroy such important work. Why would Martinelli do something so damaging when he was in pharmaceuticals? It made no sense to her. Even Harry made no sense. People could be so illogical at times. Did Martinelli really think by harming others and threatening her family she would want to help him? And why in the world didn't Harry just try to figure out what was wrong with the drug, or even ask Tyson what he thought the problem was?
She flung open the double cupboard doors. She wasn't tall enough to see what was on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Frustrated, she dragged a chair over.
"Libby? Did you find it?" Tyson called down to her from the top of the stairs. In the distance she could hear the phone ringing and a siren.
She stepped up on the chair. "It's right here. Is Sam all right?"