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* * *
After getting an initial report from Bucks, James waited in the hallway while the doctor examined Madison. He introduced himself to a young woman who didn’t look much like Madison, but turned out to be her sister, Kate.
“I’ve got to get back to work. My first day.”
“Here in Desert Valley, your sister said.”
“Yeah. I’m living with Madison in Tuckerville. Not too bad a commute.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “My dad would hate this little town.”
“Did you get word to him about Madison’s attack?”
She laughed, a hard bitter sound. “Somehow I don’t think the warden will issue him a leave pass.”
Their father was incarcerated? James burned to ask her about it, but she had already turned away and stridden down the hallway. He’d find out. Later.
The doctor finished his exam and left the room. James was about to enter when he heard sniffling. Madison. The crying awakened the protective instinct that had gotten James into plenty of trouble in his lifetime. What was it about a woman crying that got right inside him? He remembered his teen crush on sixteen-year-old Paige who’d cried on his chest about some injustice or another. It had awakened such a strong feeling of protectiveness inside James. All these years later and a woman’s tears still got to him. Ridiculous...and dangerous.
Madison’s tears were perfectly appropriate. She’d done nothing, threatened nobody, yet someone had assaulted her. With the doctor gone, her sister absent, she was likely feeling lonely. And why exactly should he care? She’d been nosing around, trying to rake up some dirt for a story, no doubt. “Aww, just get in there and do your job,” he muttered to himself before he knocked on the door.
“Yes?” she said in a small voice.
“It’s Officer Harrison. May I come in?”
There was a pause and another sniffle. “Sure,” she said after a moment.
She was wiping her face with a tissue, rust-colored hair trailing over the pillow like a spread of fall leaves, freckles showing on her pale cheeks.
“Hi,” he said, suddenly awkward at the sight of her.
She flicked a glance around. “Where’s Hawk?”
“He’s with another officer right now in the lobby. He’s not the best behaved in a medical setting. He eats things he shouldn’t.”
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “If I had any food, he could certainly have mine. I’m not a big meat loaf fan. Don’t suppose they serve sushi around here.”
His nostrils flared. “Sushi? Raw fish stuff?”
“Not all of it is raw, but yes. You’re not a fan.”
“Er, no. I prefer eating things that have been up close and personal with the grill.”
She chuckled, wincing at the pain.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like someone used my head for a soccer ball.”
He had to laugh at that one. “Been there a time or two. Got thrown from a horse more times than I can count, and played in a pickup basketball game last week where I got my bell rung pretty good.” He paused. “Can you remember anything about the guy who hit you?”
“Officer Bucks came in a while ago asking the same thing. I told him I can’t identify the guy because I only saw him from the corner of my eye before he tried to smash my skull in. Big, white, bald.” Her mouth quivered, just for a moment.
James noted that her eyes were the color of coffee with just a hint of cream, or maybe the tint of clover honey fresh from the comb. The image took him back to his ranch, to his father pulling the frame from the beehive, glistening with honey. The wonder of it had overwhelmed him back then. He blinked. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
Her tone went sharp. “Are you? Aren’t you thinking I’m a nosy reporter and I got what I had coming to me?”
“No, ma’am, I wasn’t.”
She stared at him.
He shifted. “Well, I’ll admit to thinking the ‘nosy reporter’ part, but nobody deserves to be attacked, reporter or not.”
She shrugged and pulled at the blankets. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t bothering anyone.”
“Why were you in the store in the first place?”
“I’m working on a story about local businesses, how they’ve been hurt by the crime spree. The owner didn’t want to talk to me, but later I heard some guy harassing her when I went around the side.”
“Harassing how?”
“He said something about not telling her again, that someone was going to get hurt.”
His stomach muscles tightened. “Frances said she didn’t talk to him at all, didn’t even see him.”
Madison’s mouth fell open. “Why would she lie?”
“I don’t know that she’s lying,” he blurted out.
“Well, I’m not,” Madison said hotly, sitting up against the pillows. “I realize I’m the newcomer here, but I have no reason to make things up.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure you don’t, except to concoct a juicy story for your paper.” Aloud. He’d actually said that aloud.
She stiffened, hands gripping the sheets. “I happen to have integrity.”
“I haven’t met many reporters with integrity,” he muttered, another thing he shouldn’t have let slip out of his mouth. So much for tact, Harrison.
She blushed. “That was over the line.”
He looked away for a minute, let out a breath and remembered what kind of God-fearing man he wanted to be. Slow count to three. “You’re right. I apologize. I...I have had some bad experiences with reporters, but I shouldn’t take it out on you, especially after what you’ve been through.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You or the other officers could have returned my calls, you know. Didn’t your secretary tell you I phoned?”
“Carrie forwarded the messages like she’s supposed to.” He toyed with the radio clipped to his belt. “I figured one of the other officers would be better at handling your questions.” He tried not to notice her eyes too much. Keep it professional. “Anything else you remember from the salon?”
She considered. “The guy said ‘Tony,’ too.”
“Tony?” Now his nerves were good and truly jangled. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, why? Who is Tony?”
He forced himself to answer. “The owner’s fourteen-year-old son.” Something cold slithered in his belly. Why would a woman lie about being threatened? One really big reason: to protect the person who mattered most...her son. He’d once seen a mother who could not swim leap off a dock to save her drowning toddler. Frances would lie to protect Tony. He was certain of it. He was readying another round of questions when a nurse popped her head in, face grave. “Officer, can I see you out here for a minute?”
He went to her.
“We’re going to keep this door closed, okay?” the nurse said to Madison.
“Problem?” he asked when he got to the threshold.
She nodded.
“Be right back,” James said to Madison, following the nurse outside.
People were moving quickly outside in the corridor, their shoes squeaking on the floor. He knew the signs. Trouble.
* * *
Curiosity burned Madison’s insides. Easing herself to her feet one painful movement at a time, she stood, clinging to the bed rail. A moment of dizziness nearly overcame her, but she breathed through it. Forcing her feet to cooperate, she stopped to pull on another hospital gown, using it for a robe. She inched the door open.
Nurses were scurrying along, closing all the doors. She saw James talking to a hospital engineer next to a closed set of metal doors intended to seal off this section of the hospital from the rest. Fire? She’d worked in a hospital gift shop long enough to know that most fire alarms amounted to nothing more than a smoking bag of microwave popcorn, or a patient sneaking a cigarette in the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement from behind a cart piled high with towels.
Who would be standing there, hidden between the wall and the towels, when there was clearly an emergency situation brewing? She stepped out, moving quietly toward the cart.
Again a flicker of movement, stealthy, quick.
She caught the faint scent of smoke in the air as she took another step forward. Not a false alarm after all. Hand outstretched, she meant to push the cart, move it backward to flush whoever was behind it out into the open.
Her fingers touched the cold metal bars.
“Hey,” James said, startling her. She spun so quickly she became dizzy. As she stood there clutching the gown to her body, she wished he did not have to be so good-looking, with a strong jaw, sapphire eyes and thick blond hair she wanted to touch. He took her firmly by the wrist. “You have to get back into bed and keep the door closed.”
“I’m fine.”
He frowned. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“But there’s someone behind the cart.”
James gave her a dubious look, but he let go of her wrist and swiveled the cart away from the wall. There was no one there.
“I saw...”
“You can tell me later. Back into your room.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she snapped.
“Apparently you do, and if it’s going to be me, I charge nine bucks an hour and all the potato chips I can eat.” He led Madison into her room and waited until she climbed back into bed.
Her cheeks burned. “Well, is it a fire? Can you at least tell me that?”
“We’re checking it out.” James was already heading to the door. “You’re going to be perfectly safe. Stay here.”
Madison sank down into the blankets, annoyed that even the brief foray out of bed had left her knees shaking and a strident pain in her temples. She wished James would hurry back and fill her in, but he was busy doing his cop thing, and she didn’t think he’d tell her much, anyway.
Closing her eyes and trying to breathe away the pounding in her skull, she attempted to relax. The need to know refused to be quieted. Everything is being handled and no one is going to answer any questions for you, Mads, so just deal with it.
But maybe she could find out something on social media. Perhaps some patient had heard what was going on and sent out a quick Tweet or Facebook post. She opened her eyes and reached for her cell phone just as a pillow descended over her face, strong hands sealing off her air, cutting off her scream.
Four (#ulink_cce9fe12-67b4-5d5e-a6dd-94eaf5f01f36)
James didn’t pretend to be a fire expert, but the smoke that billowed out of the supply closet seemed to be pouring from one inside corner covered by a pile of blackening paper products. He couldn’t see clearly over the shoulder of the hospital maintenance engineer who was spraying chemicals onto the fire with an extinguisher. Sure, there might be flammable cleaning chemicals in the storage room, but on the floor? And the paper products just happened to be dumped there? He knew the hospital was well run and well managed. Piles of debris would not be tolerated.
Now his instincts were prickling. A fire in the supply closet would accomplish what? Create a distraction to allow someone to steal drugs? Unlikely, as the medicines were generally secured. Cause mayhem for some delinquent to enjoy? Possibly, but that didn’t happen too often in a place where everybody knew everybody else. Create a diversion for someone to get at one of the patients? A wave of cold swept through him.
“Got it knocked down,” the engineer said. “We’ll be all clear soon after we clean it up. Fire department is here, too.”
James turned quickly and headed back to Madison’s room. Cold fear. His nerves were no doubt firing without good reason. She was probably just fine, impatiently ticking off the minutes. Actually, he’d be surprised if she’d stayed put. Not exactly the obedient type. Pushing open the door, he saw a big guy leaning over her, her hands batting weakly at the pillow he held over her face and then falling limp on the sheet.
With a roar, James leaped on the guy. They went down, taking a nearby pitcher of water with them. The man was big, maybe fifty, bald headed and muscular with skin whiter than any desert resident had a right to. The guy surged to his feet, throwing James back a pace.
James tried to get a read on Madison, but the stranger was diving for the door now. James reached for his gun, but before he got it clear of the holster, his opponent tossed a rolling table at him. James threw up a hand to deflect it, sending it crashing into the end of the bed.
There was still no movement from Madison. Had he been too late?
The guy barreled through the door, and James heard a shout as he must have run into someone. Maybe it had slowed him down enough. James got on his radio and alerted Shane with a description as he raced to the doorway. “Heading west toward the stairwell. Stop him.”
“Copy that,” Shane said. James heard the chatter of radio traffic as he turned his attention to Madison.
What he would have given to be able to run the stranger down, but he didn’t dare delay. Fear thickened his throat as he ran back to Madison and shoved the pillow aside. He patted her cheeks. “Madison, wake up.”
She did not make a sound; her eyes were closed. Her pale skin might have been carved of pure marble. He yelled for a nurse and tried to find a pulse in her wrist, but there was so much adrenaline firing through his veins, he was not sure whether he was feeling his own hammering pulse or her heartbeat. Was she breathing? “Come on,” he said, giving her a shake. “You’re gonna wake up, do you hear me?”
Suddenly she gasped for breath and came to, pounding her fists at him.
“Get off me,” she screamed in between violent coughs. “Get away.”
“It’s me,” he said, clutching her forearms, thrilled to know she was well enough to take a whack at him. “It’s James. Madison, look at me.”
Her wide-open eyes were wild for another moment. Slowly she began to focus, coughing hard and sucking in huge lungfuls of air.
“It’s me,” he repeated. “The guy is gone.”
She blinked. “He tried to kill me for the second time today.”
He held on, thinking she might burst into hysterical tears. What should he do in that case? Hold her comfortingly? Restrain her? Get a nurse who knew what to do? He figured it might be similar to dealing with a spooked horse: hold on and keep calm. He squeezed her forearms, letting her know he was still there and she was safe.
Instead of hysteria, something that looked a lot like red-hot anger flooded across her face, staining her cheeks pink. She wrenched out of his reach, picked up the pillow and hurled it him. “This is not acceptable,” she hollered.
He couldn’t help it. He smiled, profound relief pulsing through him. “I completely agree, ma’am.”
“Then why don’t you do something? This is your town, isn’t it? What’s the matter with the police here?”
