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Simply pulling Julia from her normal routine might not be enough. A mole put her life significantly more at risk. Was it even possible?
The truth was, seeing Julia limp and lifeless this morning had been too close for him. Too close to the moment when he’d held her the last time and she barely clung to life. If he didn’t get these feelings that had simmered for over a year stuffed back into containment, he wouldn’t be able to do his job.
Eli shook his head to dispel these thoughts.
Eli—pull yourself together. Don’t let your feelings for her put her at risk.
He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.”
“It’s all right.”
Eli squared his body to face Will’s. “No, it’s not. You’re right. I haven’t acted in a professional manner.”
“I’ve talked to Quentin myself on this matter and he gave me the location of the next safe house. I agree with you she’s safer in the hospital overnight. They’re getting ready to release Ben as we speak. I’ll go to the next location with a maintenance man and make sure all utilities are working properly as well as the security systems. Furnace check. Fire alarms. Carbon monoxide detectors in place.”
“Thanks, Will. I appreciate your work on this. Let’s be thorough. There are worse things than keeping her tucked here for a few days.”
“Exactly. I’ll head out and work on those details. And you?”
Eli shrugged and held the grocery bag up. “I guess I need to work on building her trust in us again.”
* * *
Julia couldn’t find anything to watch on TV. The headache and chest pain were gone, and the latest blood result showed the carbon monoxide was cleared from her system. She was free from the confining hyperbaric oxygen chamber. Why hadn’t she been released as the doctor said she would be?
What disturbed her were the visions...or hallucinations...or could they be actual, real memories?
In some ways, her amnesia was a blessing. There wasn’t the terror of knowing exactly what happened to her on a daily basis. The subconscious remnants were what plagued her and likely were the cause of her anxiety. Would working to recapture those memories heal her from the anxiety? Was she brave enough to try and do it?
Today, she remembered more than she ever had before about the attack.
At least, she was fairly certain that what she remembered was true.
On that fateful day, Julia had just come downstairs after getting ready for work. She was about to put on her brightly colored paisley clogs that were tucked under the table in her foyer but decided it might be best to get her lunch ready instead. There had been the softest click and a cool breeze that swept through her kitchen. She’d crossed over to her sliding glass door to see if she’d left it cracked open from the previous evening. Peeling aside the curtain, she could see it was latched. Even the security bar was down.
When she turned around, a man stood just feet away from her. Even recalling this much caused her heart to fire indiscriminately, and she checked her pulse to see if the rhythm was regular. Resting her head against the pillow, she closed her eyes.
Why can’t I see you? Why are you just a fuzzed-out figure? I locked the front door. How did you get in? Has my mind made this whole thing up?
What was new was seeing a figure at all. Was it something to be celebrated? Julia wasn’t convinced. After all, if it really couldn’t offer any new information, what good did it do her except cause her more anxiety?
Then what replaced it was the sweet singsong of a male voice that whispered to her. Those are the brown eyes I’ve been waiting to see.
The faint knock at the door caused the memory to vanish. Eli poked his head into her room, and she motioned him forward.
The second thing that caused her anxiety? The gap in her memory claimed every moment she’d interacted with Eli. Considering the things he knew about her, it reasoned they’d spent a lot of time together.
“You look a lot better,” he offered, pulling a chair closer to the bed. He set a thin plastic grocery bag at her side. “I brought you these. A change of clothes and your Bible.”
She grasped the bag with the tip of her fingers and pulled it closer. “Thank you. I can’t wait to get out of here.”
His eyes darted to the side. “That’s what we need to talk about.”
“I don’t want to stay here.”
“You’re safe here. I think it’s—”
“No! Eli, please...” She pressed her thumb and forefinger at the corners of her eyes to stem the flow of threatening tears.
He rested his hand over hers. “Julia, it’s okay. You’re a nurse. You practically live in a hospital.”
How could she explain it to him? Was it the environment that was culling these memories? Was it being in the same position, forced to stay in a hospital bed that was connecting her brain cells again? Or was it Eli’s presence?
She fisted her hand and rested it at her side. The truth of the matter was her psyche was unprepared to remember the attack.
“Julia, I can only help if you tell me what’s going on. Like all men, I’m a really horrible mind reader.” He took her hand and gently uncurled her fingers, smoothing his palm against hers. “One night is all I’m asking. We want to be sure the next safe house doesn’t have any maintenance issues.” He gently squeezed her hand to add strength to his request.
“You don’t think the elevated carbon monoxide levels were an attempt on my life?” Julia asked.
A brisk knock at the door, and Dr. James Solan entered. His hazel eyes glimmered under the light nearly as much as his bald head. “I thought you said to me once you’d never step foot into an adult ER again.”
Eli stood from his chair. “You two know each other?”
“I worked here for about two years after I graduated from nursing school until I figured out adults were too crazy for me.”
Solan stroked his white beard. “It was obvious she didn’t like to care for anyone twenty-one and over. She’d bargain with the other nurses to take care of their pediatric patients.” Looking at Julia, he stated, “You don’t know how much they miss that.”
Julia laughed. “Sadly, it took me a couple of years to figure out there are hospitals that exist where adult patients aren’t allowed. Don’t know how smart that makes me in the long run.”
Dr. Solan turned to Eli. “Don’t let her fool you. She was one of the best nurses we ever had. As much as she’d hate to admit it, her adult nursing skills were above par.” He turned back to Julia. “As I’m sure they still are if you’d ever like to come back.”
“Not unless I can’t find any other job.”
“I’ll never give up trying to win you back. Julia, is it okay if I discuss your medical information in front of this young man?”
Eli held a hand up. “It’s okay, I’ll step—”
“It’s fine, Eli. Stay.”
“Very well, then. I know the nurse relayed to you that your last carbon monoxide level was negligible. The good news about CO poisoning is that if it’s caught early enough, patients turn around very quickly and don’t suffer any long-term effects.” He motioned to Eli. “I understand from the EMS team that this gentleman here found you. His quick action likely saved you from having a serious medical fiasco.”
Did she just see Eli blush?
“You’re medically clear to go home when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, James,” Julia said as he backed out of the room. “It was good seeing you again.”
Eli returned to the seat next to her and shook his head. Was it relief at the doctor’s words? The closer she examined Eli, the more she noticed his state of distress. His hair was disheveled. The blue irises tinged red. Had Eli not slept well? His face was one of worry.
“I want to go back to the question you were asking me before the doctor came in. They found a crack in the furnace at the safe house and the FBI is looking into the possibility that someone may have tampered with it.”
Blood roared in her ears. Could this assassin have found her that quickly?
“Julia...” His voice trailed, and he looked away. There was something he wanted to tell her but he seemed to question if whatever truth he held could be too much for her to take. Eli lifted his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Unexpectedly, his question felt like a punch in her gut. In every relationship, there was an inherent amount of trust. Just based on her position as a nurse, she expected her patients and their families to trust her on some level in order for her to do her job. If a family didn’t have that basis of understanding, it made her care more difficult because the doubt they possessed clouded every action she took at the bedside. Did that nurse clean my child’s skin enough before she put the IV in? Is that why my child now has a blood infection three days later?
Eli locked her eyes with his. “I can’t do my job unless you trust me on some level.”
“Why do you think that I don’t?”
“I’m just putting myself in your shoes. I uprooted you from your life, and the first thing that happens is you almost—”
“Eli, I don’t blame you for the furnace. How could I?”
His body relaxed. “I’m relieved, but I also would understand if you’d want another agent to take my place.”
Julia found herself shaking her head before her mind registered a thought. If she was truthful, she would have to confess that she wondered if Eli could keep her safe, but there was also a feeling that she didn’t want to be separated from him. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to get to know another team. I want to stick with you and Ben.”
For now.
FIVE (#ulink_eef30194-3b5e-5ffd-92c1-ad8fa0f83553)
The next morning, Eli was hopeful for an uneventful day. Will and Jace reported there had been no overnight incidents at the hospital. Ben was well rested and relieved the two of them so they could sleep.
Eli was parking his car in the hospital lot when a call from Quentin redirected him to this location—the house of a murder victim. Quentin insisted Eli drive to the crime scene without seeing Julia first. Aurora police provided backup for Ben until Eli could get there.
No. This isn’t possible. This can’t be happening again.
The fact of the matter belied what Eli hoped. The woman was dressed in a sharp-looking turquoise and black pantsuit, her longer auburn hair covering the bulky rope around her neck that had claimed her life. Suicide? Homicide? One black, high-heeled shoe was on the floor below her. The other dangled from the tips of her toes.
Quentin Archer, Eli’s supervisor, waved him over. A tall black man, he stood nearly six foot five—a good three inches over Eli. His voice was James Earl Jones deep and he always presented a stabilizing force in any situation he was involved in—even when bullets were flying. Though he exuded polite calm and unflappability—the job had aged him beyond his fifty-four years. His hair was gray and the beard he wore fashionably clipped barely held the color of his youth.
Eli and Quentin stood off to the side as Aurora police detectives began to analyze the presumed crime scene. Eli waved to Nathan Long, a well-respected detective he’d had the honor of working with on occasion. Local law enforcement would handle the case, which added to Eli’s apprehension as to why Quentin called him to the scene.
“Quentin.”
“Eli, thanks for coming by.”
Eli motioned to the woman. “Not that you gave me a choice. What does this mean for Julia?”
“That’s what we’re here to discuss and why I wanted you to see the crime scene for yourself. You understand my concern?”
“I see a woman who may or may not have committed suicide.”
“Follow me.”
They rounded to the backside of the woman’s body. Quentin pointed to the noose. “What we know about the Hangman is he is very methodical in the way he dispatches his victims. Each noose had a device that was anchored into the ceiling. The rope—always yellow nylon. The noose was elaborate—far beyond what was needed to kill somebody. Decorative, you could say. The perpetrator would need to be skilled in tying knots.”
“Like the doctor currently on death row for the Hangman’s crimes. Have they found any blood?”
“The man who was convicted of being the Hangman, Dr. Heller, was a pediatric intensivist and doesn’t have the skill that, say, a surgeon would have with tying knots.” Quentin smoothed his hand over his mouth, his eyes narrow. “And no—so far they haven’t found any blood.”
Eli shrugged. “If it proves to be murder, perhaps we have a copycat at play. The Hangman’s trial was televised and heavily covered by the media. There was extensive forensic presentation of the materials he used to make the noose and how it was anchored.”
“Perhaps.” Though Quentin sounded far from convinced. “From looking at the scene right now, how could it possibly be suicide? There is nothing under her feet she could have stepped off of.”
That was problematic. Eli’s gut tightened. “Who is she?”
“Evelyn Roush was CEO of Medical Interventions International or MII. They’re a company based out of Colorado Springs.”
Eli fiddled with the coins in his pocket. That was concerning. All the Hangman’s victims had a connection to the health-care field. As of yet, they hadn’t determined if the medical angle was significant or just the killer’s preferred type.
“What does the company do?” Eli asked.
“From what I gather, they revolutionize life-support equipment. Recently, the company was in the news for getting FDA approval for a specialized type of ventilator. Evelyn just became infinitely richer than she was before—quadrupled her net worth.”
“I’m sure Aurora PD will look at all the usual suspects. Husband—”
“She wasn’t married. No kids. Early reports say she dedicated her life to her company and was also a big philanthropist.”
This woman’s death, on the surface, could be connected to Julia, but there wasn’t a logical straight line. If it was the hit man—why a hanging and not bullets? And if the real Hangman was free and not awaiting a state-sponsored injection to whatever was beyond this life—why didn’t he choose to kill Julia in the same manner as before?
Quentin sighed and nudged Eli from the room with his hand pressed against his back. He didn’t stop guiding Eli until they were in the front yard. Eli put his sunglasses on—in part to shield his eyes from the sun, but also to hide his feelings from his more experienced, astute supervisor.
“I know you were involved with the Hangman’s case. I know you were part of the responding team that found Julia barely alive. How did that come about?”
“What?”
“That you found Julia?”
“The hospital called and reported her missing after they tried to get a hold of her for two hours when she didn’t show up for work. I was in her neighborhood when Dispatch notified us of the need for the welfare check. It was the same day—”
“Of the high school shooting.”
“I wasn’t tasked on that case, and I knew it would be hours before a uniformed officer would be available, so I decided to stop by and help out. Get it off the call log.”
Eli turned away from Quentin. He could feel the emotion of that day building in his chest. What he thought was going to be a quick safety check had changed his life forever. When he’d gone up her steps, there was no answer at the door. When he peered through the side window—he saw her. Much in the same fashion he’d just seen Evelyn Roush.
“It’s good for Julia that you were so close.”
Eli squared his shoulders and turned back to Quentin. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Should I?”
“Absolutely not.”
Quentin put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re the Hangman. I am concerned you might be too emotionally connected to Julia—finding a victim that way, barely clinging to life, resuscitating her and perhaps developing feelings—”
