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“Grace.”
She looked up to see Dr. Ralph Dell standing in the doorway. She started to stand but he motioned her back into her chair as he sat next to her. “She’s stable,” he said. “We pumped her stomach, but whatever she took either wasn’t in pill form or had enough time to be digested. I’ve ordered a full toxicology screen.”
“Is she conscious?” Grace asked.
“Drifting in and out. She’ll be here until the effects have completely worn off.” Dr. Dell eyed her soberly. “The sheriff is going to want to talk to her, and even with her condition I can keep him away only so long.”
“I know. Charlie Black is supposed to meet me here in the next hour or so.”
“Good. Deputy Taylor has been here since she was brought in.”
Grace frowned. “Has he talked to her?”
Dr. Dell shook his head. “Up until now Hope hasn’t been in any condition to talk to anyone. And I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone in to see her while you were gone. I’m a man of my word.”
“Thank you.” Grace raised a trembling hand to her temple, where a headache had begun to pound with fierce intensity.
“How are you doing?” Dr. Dell reached out and took her hand in his. He’d been both Hope’s and Grace’s doctor since they’d been small girls. “You need anything, you let me know.”
She realized he wasn’t just holding her hand, but rather was taking her pulse at the same time. She forced a smile. “I’m okay.” She withdrew her hand from his. “Really. Can I see Hope?”
He nodded his head and stood. “However, I caution you about asking her too many questions. Right now what she needs is your love and support. There will be plenty of time for answers when she’s feeling more alert.”
Grace heartily agreed. The last thing she wanted right now was to grill Hope about whatever might have happened at the Covington mansion that morning. All she wanted—all she needed—was to make sure that the sister she loved was physically all right. She’d worry about the rest later.
“I’ve got her in a private room,” Dr. Dell said, as he led Grace down a quiet corridor.
She saw the deputy first. Ben Taylor sat in a chair in the hallway, a magazine open in his lap. He looked up as they approached, his thin face expressing no emotion as he greeted her.
“Grace.” He nodded to her and shifted in his seat as if he found the whole situation awkward.
She knew Ben because his wife worked part-time for her at the dress shop. “Hi, Ben,” she replied, appalled by the shakiness of her voice.
“Bad day, huh?” He averted his gaze from hers.
“That’s an understatement.” There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for any of the answers. Charlie would be here soon and would find out what she needed to know.
She pushed open the door of the hospital room and her heart squeezed painfully tight in her chest as she saw her sister. Hope was asleep, her petite face stark white and her blond hair a tangled mess.
Grace wanted to bundle her up in the sheet, pick her up and run out the door. Nobody could ever make her believe that Hope had anything to do with William’s murder.
Pulling up a chair next to Hope’s bed, Grace fought against a tremendous amount of guilt. In the past couple of months had she been too absent from Hope’s life? Had there been things she wasn’t aware of, things that had led to this terrible crime?
Stop it, she commanded herself. She was thinking as if Hope was guilty, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t! As soon as Charlie arrived, everything would be okay.
A knot of simmering anger twisted in her stomach. She shouldn’t be alone here, waiting for Hope to wake up. Their mother should be with her, but she’d run from her responsibility and her family and disappeared like a puff of smoke on a windy day. Hope had been far too young to lose her mother. Damn you, Mom, Grace thought.
Hope stirred and her eyes opened. She frowned and looked at Grace in obvious confusion. “Sis?” Her voice was a painful croak.
Grace leaned forward and grabbed Hope’s hand. “I’m here, honey. It’s all right. You’re going to be all right now.”
Hope looked around wildly, as if unsure where she was. Her gaze locked with Grace’s once again, and in the depths of Hope’s eyes Grace saw a whisper of terror. “What happened?”
“You got your stomach pumped. Did you take something, Hope? Some kind of drug?”
Hope’s eyes flashed with annoyance and she rose to a half-sitting position. “I don’t do drugs. Drugs are for losers.” She fell back against the bed and closed her eyes, as if the brief conversation had completely exhausted her.
Grace remained seated next to her, clasping her hand even after she realized Hope had fallen back asleep. If Hope hadn’t taken any drugs, then why had the authorities found her unconscious on her bed when they’d arrived?
Had she been hit over the head? Knocked unconscious by whoever had committed the murder? Surely if she’d had a head injury Dr. Dell would have found it.
Hope slept the sleep of the drugged, not awakening even when a nurse came in to take her vital signs. The nurse didn’t speak to Grace. She simply did her job with stern lips pressed tightly together.
Minutes ticked by with nauseating slowness. Grace checked her watch over and over again, wondering when Charlie would arrive. Hopefully he’d have some answers that would unravel the knot of dread tied tight in her stomach.
She leaned her head back against the chair and thought of Charlie. The moment she’d seen him again, an electric charge had sizzled through her. It had surprised her.
He was as handsome now as he’d been when they’d dated, his dark hair rich and full and his features aristocratically elegant, holding just a hint of danger. She knew those slate-gray eyes of his could narrow with cold intent or stoke a fire so hot a woman felt as if she might combust.
She’d been more than half in love with him when they’d broken up. She’d thought he felt the same way about her, but the redhead in his bed that night had told her different.
On that night she’d hated him more than she’d loved him, and in the past eighteen months her feelings hadn’t changed. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, thoughts of Charlie Black only increasing her headache.
Maybe he’d come in and tell her that Hope wasn’t in any trouble, didn’t need the expertise of a criminal defense lawyer or a bodyguard. Then she’d go back to the mess that had suddenly become her life and never see Charlie again.
She glanced at her watch and frowned. He was late. He was always late. That was something else she’d always found irritating about him—his inability to be on time for anything.
She didn’t know why she was thinking about him anyway, except that it was far easier to think about Charlie than what had happened.
Somebody murdered William. Somebody murdered William. The words thundered through her brain in perfect rhythm with her pounding headache.
Who would want him dead? He’d been a wealthy man, a generous benefactor to numerous charities. He’d been well liked in the community and loved and respected by the two stepdaughters he’d claimed as his own.
Although he was the CEO of several industrial companies, he’d stopped working full-time a year ago and went in only occasionally for meetings.
He was kind and gentle, and his heart had been broken when Hope and Grace’s mother had left him, left them. Tears burned her eyes again and she struggled to hold them back as she realized she’d never again see his gentle smile, never again feel the touch of his hand on her shoulder.
It was just after seven when the hospital door creaked open and Charlie motioned her out of the room. She got up from the chair and joined him in the hallway, where he took her by the arm and led her away from Ben Taylor.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said when they were far enough down the hallway that Ben couldn’t hear their conversation. His gray eyes were like granite slabs, revealing nothing of his thoughts.
“What?” she asked.
“I have every reason to believe that as soon as Hope is well enough to be released by the doctor, she’s going to be arrested for the murder of your stepfather.”
Grace gasped. “But why? How could anyone think she’s responsible?”
He shifted his gaze and stared at some point just over her head. “Hope wasn’t just found passed out on her bed. Her room had been trashed as if she’d been in a fit of rage.”
“But that doesn’t make her a murderer,” Grace exclaimed. Although it was definitely out of character for Hope to do something like that. Hope had always been a neatnik who loved her room neat and tidy.
Charlie sighed and focused his gaze back on her. The darkness she saw there terrified her. “The real problem is that Hope was found covered in William’s blood—and she had a knife in her hand. It was the murder weapon.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_4795c638-7565-5a1e-b946-c0e7e15e7328)
Charlie watched as the color left Grace’s cheeks and she swayed on her feet. His first impulse was to reach out to her, but before he could follow through, she stiffened and took a step back from him.
She’d never been a needy woman—that was one of the things he’d always admired about her and ultimately one of the things he’d come to hate. That she wasn’t needy—that she had never really needed him.
“So, what do we do now?” Her strong voice gave away nothing of the emotional turmoil she must be feeling.
“Zack West wants to question her tonight. I just saw him in the lobby and he’s chomping at the bit to get to her. Give me a dollar.”
“Excuse me?” She looked at him blankly.
“Give me a dollar as a retainer. That will make it official that at least for now, I’m Hope’s legal counsel. She’s a minor. She can’t be questioned without me, and we can argue that as her legal guardian you have the right to be present, too.”
She opened her purse and withdrew a crisp dollar bill. He took it from her and shoved it into his back pocket. “I’ll go find Zack and we’ll get this over with.”
As he walked away, her scent lingered in his head. She’d always smelled like jasmine and the faintest hint of vanilla, and today was no different.
It was a scent that had stayed with him for months after she’d left him, a fragrance that had once smelled like desire and had wound up smelling like regret.
This was a fool’s job, and he was all kinds of fool for getting involved. From what little he’d already learned, it didn’t look good for the young girl.
If he got involved and ended up defending Hope, then failed, Grace would have yet another reason to hate his guts. Even if he defended Hope successfully, that wasn’t a ticket to the land of forgiveness where Grace was concerned.
Still, Charlie knew that in all probability Hope was going to need a damn good lawyer on her side, and he was just arrogant enough to believe that he was the best in the four-state area.
Besides, he owed it to Grace. Although at the time of their breakup they’d been not only on different pages but in completely different books, he’d never forgotten the rich, raw pain on her face when she’d been confronted by the knowledge that he hadn’t been monogamous.
Maybe fate had given him this opportunity to right the wrong, to heal some wounds and assuage the guilt he’d felt ever since.
He found Zack in the waiting room. The handsome sheriff was pacing the floor and frowning. He stopped in his tracks as Charlie approached him. “If you want to question Hope, then Grace and I intend to be present,” Charlie said.
Zack raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you here as Hope’s lawyer?”
“Maybe.” Charlie replied.
Zack sighed. “You going to make this difficult for me?”
“Probably,” Charlie replied dryly. “You can’t really believe that Hope killed William.”
“Right now, I’m just in the information-gathering mode. After I have all the information I need, then I can decide if I have a viable suspect or not.”
Zack had only been sheriff for less than a year, but Charlie knew he was a truth seeker and not a town pleaser. He would look for justice, not make a fast arrest in order to waylay the fears of the people in Cotter Creek. But if all the evidence pointed to Hope, Zack would have no choice but to arrest her.
“I heard you were working for Dalton,” Zack said.
Dalton was Zack’s brother and ran the family business, West Protective Services, an agency that provided bodyguard services around the country.
“I told him I’d be interested in helping out whenever he needed me,” Charlie replied. “But I need to get this situation under control before I do anything else.”
“Then let’s do it,” Zack said. He headed down the hallway toward Hope’s room and Charlie followed close behind.
Dr. Dell met them at her door, his arms crossed over his chest like a mythical guardian of a magical jewel. “I know you have a job to do here, Sheriff, but so do I. She’s still very weak, so I want this interview to be short and sweet.”
Zack nodded, and the doctor stepped away. Grace’s eyes narrowed slightly as Zack and Charlie entered the room. She sat next to the bed, where Hope was awake.
The kid looked sick and terrified as her gaze swept from Charlie to Zack. “Hope, you remember Zack West, the sheriff,” Grace said. “And Charlie is here as your lawyer.”
Hope’s eyes widened, and Charlie had a feeling she hadn’t realized just what kind of trouble she was in until this moment. Tears filled her eyes and she reached for her sister’s hand.
“I want to ask you some questions,” Zack said. He pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. “You mind if I turn this on?”
Hope looked wildly at Charlie, who nodded his assent. Charlie stood next to Grace, trying to ignore the way her evocative scent made him remember the pleasure of making love with her and how crazy he’d been about her.
He couldn’t think about that now—he knew he shouldn’t think about that ever again. He couldn’t go back and change the past and that terrible mistake he’d made. All he could do was step up right now and hopefully redeem himself just a little bit.
“I told her about William,” Grace said to Zack, her chin lifted in a gesture of defiance. “She knows he was murdered but insists she had nothing to do with it.”
A knot of tension formed in Zack’s jaw. “I need to hear from her what happened today,” he said, and focused his gaze on Hope. “What’s the first thing you remember from this morning?”
Hope raised a trembling hand to her head and rubbed her temples. “I woke up around nine and went downstairs to get some breakfast. Nobody was around. It was Lana’s day off, and I figured William was still in bed. Lately he’d been sleeping in longer than usual.”
She stopped talking as tears once again filled her blue eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I just don’t understand any of this. Why would somebody do this to him? What happened to me?”
“So, you made yourself breakfast, then what did you do?” Zack asked, seemingly unmoved by her tears.
Grace’s lips were a thin slash, and her pretty features were taut with tension. Several more strands of her shiny blond hair had escaped her barrette and framed her face.
Charlie was surprised to realize he wanted to do something, anything to erase that apprehensive look on her face, to alleviate the tortured shadows in her eyes.
“After I ate breakfast, I was still tired, so I went back to bed,” Hope replied. “And I woke up here.” Her features crumbled. “I don’t know what happened to William. I don’t know what happened to me.” She began to cry in earnest, deep, wrenching sobs.
Grace got up from her chair and put her arms around Hope’s slender shoulders and glared at Zack as if he were personally responsible for all the unhappiness on the entire planet.
“Isn’t this enough?” she asked, those blue eyes of hers filled with anger. “Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”
Unfortunately, Charlie knew that Zack was just getting started. “Grace, let’s just get this over with,” he said. “Zack has to question her sooner or later. We might as well get it finished now. We’ll give her a minute to pull herself together.”
Zack waited until Hope calmed down a bit before asking about any tensions between her and William and probing her about any fights her stepfather might have had with anyone else.
Charlie protested only a couple of times when he thought the questions Zack asked might incriminate Hope if she answered.
Despite Charlie’s efforts to protect Hope, what little information Zack got from the girl offered no alternative suspect and merely added to the mystery of what exactly happened in the Covington mansion that morning.
After an hour and a half of questioning, it was Grace who finally called a halt to the interrogation. “That’s enough for tonight, Zack,” she said firmly, as she rose from her chair. “Hope is exhausted. She isn’t going anywhere. If you have more questions for her, you can ask them another time.”
