Acceptable Risk

by Lynette Eason

  Gavin cleared his throat. “I . . . uh . . . told her about the threats, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

  Caden frowned. “You did?”

  He shrugged. “It was a judgment call at the moment.”

  “All right.” Caden drew the words out slowly, as though trying to decide whether he was okay with that or not.

  “Have they figured out where the threats are coming from? Like narrowed it down to a specific person?” Sarah asked.

  “That’s what he’s trying to determine. It’s probably Hibatullah Omar.”

  “Omar!” She gaped. “I thought he was dead.”

  “We all did,” Gavin muttered.

  Caden cleared his throat. “To be honest, I don’t care who’s making the threats. All I care about is that even though they never directly included us in that threat, we’re going to assume it’s there. Everything is being investigated very thoroughly.”

  “By who?” Sarah asked. “The general?”

  “Yes. Or rather, CID, but I’m sure he has his finger on the pulse.”

  She nodded. “Ever since Gavin mentioned the threats, I keep circling back to Dustin’s death. If they’re coming after me, they could have been after him. Set his death up to look like a suicide. Right?”

  Caden grimaced and exchanged another glance with Gavin.

  “What?”

  “We’ve already discussed that and decided that wasn’t likely.”

  “You’ve already discussed that? Is there a reason I wasn’t in on the discussion?”

  “Come on, Sarah,” Gavin said softly. “You were sick, passed out, or high on painkillers. When would we have discussed it with you?”

  “I don’t know. When we were getting shot at out on the highway?” He raised a brow and she sighed and looked back and forth between the men. “So, all that stuff in the hospital. You really think I’ve completely misinterpreted it?”

  Caden cleared his throat. “I don’t know for sure, of course, but even you have to admit, you’ve been through some major trauma. So, I guess all I’m saying is that it’s possible what you heard sounded weird enough to your traumatized brain after everything that had happened, that you put a spin on it that wasn’t there.”

  “And yet, Dustin is dead. And so is Brianne. I want to know why.”

  “Well, there is that,” Gavin said.

  The doorbell rang and Sarah flinched. “Who’s that?”

  Caden shot her the look that he used to flash when they were kids and he had something up his sleeve. “You’ll see.” He headed for the door.

  “See what?” she asked.

  “A surprise,” Gavin said. “Caden and I thought you could use one.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “Us!” came a chorus of voices in the entryway.

  “Heather? Brooke?” Sarah blinked. “Ava!” She rose to her feet and crossed the room to greet each woman. “And Asher too?”

  He kissed her cheek. “Glad to see you’re in one piece.”

  “Glad to be that way, thanks.”

  Asher and Gavin shook hands while Heather grasped Sarah’s fingers and pulled her to the sofa. “How are you feeling?” she asked, a friend’s concern mingled with a doctor’s scrutiny.

  “I’m better. Sorry I couldn’t stay awake long enough to see you when you came by the hospital.”

  “We understood. Thanks to Gavin and his text with that picture, we were able to chill out a little and leave you alone, but enough is enough. We decided to coordinate our schedules with some time off. We’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you guys too.” And she had. So very much. “How much time off?”

  “I have to head back tonight. My brother is with Mom,” Ava said, reaching around Heather and placing a hand on Sarah’s wrist. “We’re so very sorry about Dustin.”

  Sarah swallowed and nodded, glanced at her brother, who stood next to the fireplace. “Thanks, it’s been tough.”

  “We were at the funeral, but you were still pretty out of it to note that, I think,” Ava said.

  “I know. Caden told me. I have flashes of it, so I’ll content myself with the fact that I was there.”

  Ava sighed and bit her lip. “I wanted to stay and visit with you awhile, but I had to leave right after to get home to Mom.”

  “I understand, Ava. You know I do.”

  Her friend smiled, crinkling the corners of her dark eyes. Half Mexican and half Caucasian, she was a beautiful combination of her lovely parents. The sadness in her eyes and the faint shadows beneath spoke volumes.

  “How’s she doing?”

  Ava shrugged. “She has good days and bad.”

  More bad than good would be Sarah’s guess.

  Brooke still hadn’t said anything other than a quick hello and given a tight hug, but now her gaze snagged Sarah’s and she raised a brow. Sarah nodded. When Sarah was ready to talk, Brooke was ready to listen. She knew that and appreciated it more than her friend could possibly know. And she might take her up on that at some point, but for now, she had things to do.

  “So, tell us what’s been going on?” Heather said. “What’s this about getting shot at and more?”

  “You’ll think I’m making the whole thing up.”

  “Start with the kidnapping,” Brooke said, “and go from there.”

  Sarah shuddered and Brooke’s eyes narrowed.

  “Fine.” She could tell them. They were her friends. She’d stick to the facts and leave the absolute terror of those hours in the locked recesses of her mind.

  Gavin, Caden, and Asher gathered around the kitchen island, and Caden passed the bottle opener to Gavin. Cold root beer, a mix of pretzels, nuts, and M&Ms, and three kinds of potato chips weren’t exactly on the healthy list, but he’d been shot at, almost run off the road, and had dealt with a hostage situation in the span of less than twenty-four hours. He’d eat the junk and enjoy it.

  He hoped Sarah was doing the same in the other room. Caden had delivered the goodies and then hurried back to the kitchen with a frown. “They kicked me out of my own den.”

  “Want some cheese with that ‘whine’?” Asher asked.

  “That’s so old. It’s time to find some new material.”

  Asher grinned and sipped his drink.

  Gavin turned serious. “Heard anything about Wilmont?” he asked Caden.

  “Oh, yeah. He made it. The theory is the seizure was brought on by the stress of everything.” He shrugged. “He’s expected to make a full recovery, even though he claims he doesn’t remember anything that happened after he got to the house.” Caden’s phone rang and he snagged it. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He stepped out onto the patio and shut the kitchen door behind him. Gavin watched through the window, wondering at the man’s expression. Intense and focused. Something about Dustin or Sarah?

  When Caden returned a few minutes later, his frown spoke volumes. “Anything you can share?” Gavin asked.

  Asher pointed to the door. “I can step out if you guys need to discuss something private.”

  Caden shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Elliott Bancroft is one of the detectives on the Brianne Davis case. The friend, Mrs. Nelson, is out of surgery and holding her own for now, but she hasn’t come to yet. Here’s the interesting thing, though. The gun was registered to Brianne, and initial findings are showing that she was killed by a self-inflicted gunshot—and while Wilmont had residue on his hands, it was a very small amount and none on his clothing. Which could be accounted for by the fact that he picked the gun up after it was discharged . . .”

  “Which means he might be scum, but not necessarily a murderer,” Gavin said.

  “Exactly. There’s no way to prove he fired the weapon, and the evidence pretty much says he didn’t.”

  “So,” Gavin said, “all of his protests about not shooting anyone could be true.”

  “Could be,” Caden said. “Here’s the other thing. They found traces of some drug in his system.”
>
  “Pain meds, right?” Gavin asked. “We know he took two of Brianne’s pills.”

  “No. No traces of any narcotic. This is something else, but he swears all he took were the two pills from Brianne’s bottle.”

  Gavin frowned. “So he’s lying.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay, going on the assumption that he’s not lying, what’s the other drug they found?”

  “They’re trying to figure that out. They’ve ruled out the usual. Elliott said this one is something the lab says they’ve never seen before. They’re trying to break down the components of it as we speak.”

  Gavin frowned. “Weird.”

  “No kidding.”

  “What about our guy Max at the hospital?” Gavin asked.

  “Nothing yet. Which is also weird. Elliott said there’s no worker there named Max.”

  “No Maxwell? Maximillian?”

  “Apparently not. I’m tempted to ask Annie to work her magic and find him. I don’t think either detective would mind as long as he was located.”

  “Good idea,” Gavin said. “Now, back to Brianne. If she shot herself, who shot the friend? Do we have an attempted murder-suicide here?”

  Caden ran a hand over his cheek. “They’re not sure. The big hope is that Mrs. Nelson will wake up soon and tell us what really happened.”

  “Us?” Asher asked.

  Caden grimaced. “Okay, them. Sorry. Habit. I don’t mean to treat it like it’s my case, but I can’t help it.”

  Gavin shook his head. “If they’re keeping you in the loop, then that’s a huge plus.”

  “Tell me about it. They’re great and I let them know how much I appreciated it.”

  Gavin’s phone pinged and he let out a slow breath. “Finally,” he murmured.

  “What is it?”

  “I have a friend who’s got a friend who got me some hospital security footage of the night Sarah was ill and wandering the halls.”

  “How’d you do that?”

  “Connections.” He tapped the screen on his phone and let the video play. The longer it played, the more he frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s not showing anything.”

  “Nothing?” Caden asked.

  “Just a typical quiet hallway with nurses and doctors walking back and forth and going room to room.”

  Asher set his drink on the counter. “What’s the time stamp?”

  Caden looked over at Aden’s screen. “It’s the right day and time.”

  “Is it the right floor?”

  “I can’t see the room numbers, but wait. There’s Sarah. She looked out of her room, then turned and went back in. So, yeah, it’s the right floor.”

  “Someone messed with the footage then,” Gavin said, eyes on the screen. “I was on that floor and I know what should be there.” He shook his head. “Something happened that night, and someone is desperate to cover it up. I don’t know who’s involved, but I suspect that Dr. Kilgore and the nurse, Donna, know what’s going on.”

  “Then maybe someone should have another chat with them.”

  Gavin shrugged. “Could try, I suppose, but unless you have something official you can bring them in on, I doubt they’ll talk. It looks like they simply want to erase any trace of Brianne Davis from their hospital.” He shook his head. “My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of everything. There’s a reason they’re denying Brianne’s existence. There’s a reason she killed herself. There’s a reason Dustin was doing great, then all of a sudden bottomed out and jumped off the roof. There’s a reason for all of it and it’s related to that VA hospital. The problem is, we’re missing too many pieces of the puzzle to connect everything.”

  “So,” Caden said, “we keep looking for those missing pieces.”

  Gavin nodded. “I think so.”

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  Wednesday morning, Lewis sat across from his buddy Marshall again and sipped his coffee. They’d been chatting about not much of anything for the past fifteen minutes, but now, Marshall looked out the window, eyes narrowed, mind obviously not on their meeting.

  “Everything all right?” Lewis asked.

  Marshall blinked and nodded. “Sure.”

  “So, what’s wrong?”

  His friend sighed. “The funding for this project I’m working on is iffy. I’m waiting to hear back from a potential investor, but it’s not looking good.”

  “Ouch. How much do you need?”

  Marshall leaned forward. “We’re in the home stretch, Lewis. Another five million would help. Seven or more would go a long way, because we’re finally seeing some pretty amazing progress. Our test subjects are showing real promise, and I can see getting the product on the market within six months once we have approval. I would say two months after that, we’d recoup every penny invested.”

  Lewis raised a brow. “That’s not just pocket change you’re talking about.”

  “Trust me, I know.” He paused and took a sip of his coffee. “You know as well as I do, we’re a private company. We don’t have the big government backing, but we’re almost there. So very close. People believe in this project and have put their money where their mouth is.” His fingers flexed around his glass. “I can’t fail, Lewis, I won’t fail.”

  “I hope not. I’ve got a lot invested in this myself. Even more so now that Dustin is gone. Just like you can’t fail, his death can’t be in vain.”

  “Of course not.” Marshall blew out a slow breath and Lewis could feel the man’s passion in an almost tangible way. “Enough about that. How’s Rochelle? Is she recovering?”

  “Physically.”

  “Mentally?”

  Lewis shook his head. “I don’t know. She still won’t speak to me. I haven’t seen her since she was released from the hospital. Caden keeps me updated about once a day.” He sipped his coffee. “And if she knew that, she’d probably smash his phone and leave his house.”

  Marshall frowned. “That’s not good.”

  “She’s always been able to hold a grudge, but she’ll eventually come around.” Maybe. “At least she always has before.” But he’d never done anything quite like this to her. “We’ve never been close, though. She was a mama’s girl. And after Tara died, Rochelle just went wild. Did everything she could to destroy her reputation—and mine. She wouldn’t listen to a thing I said.”

  “When you were around to say it?”

  Lewis scowled, and his friend held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “Don’t shoot. You said yourself that you weren’t really around.”

  “Trust me, I know.” Lewis cleared his throat and glanced at the two men who sat close by. His security detail. “Gavin said someone tried to run them off the road yesterday. Shot up his truck.”

  Marshall stilled. “What?”

  “Local police were called in, but CID’s taking over the investigation since there’s the possibility it could be related to the threats against me.”

  “I see. So, when are you headed back into the fray?”

  “My leave is up in another week. I’m using the time to do a little investigating of my own, since Rochelle won’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Investigating what? The shooting?”

  The general shook his head. “Dustin’s supposed suicide.”

  “Supposed?”

  “It’s just a theory. A crazy one probably.”

  “Want to share?”

  Lewis hesitated, then filled him in on Caden’s last visit with Dustin. Marshall listened intently. “But he jumped.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there the possibility he was pushed?”

  “No. The security footage is very clear—and it’s not doctored, according to CID.”

  “Then I’m confused.”

  “Join the club.”

  Silence fell between them. “So, what are you going to do?” Marshall finally asked.

  Lewis shook his head and let his sho
ulders slump a fraction. “I don’t know, Marshall. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do.”

  Sarah walked toward the psychiatric ward with Gavin next to her. Seeing her friends had been a soothing balm to her wounded soul, but not even Brooke’s subtle questioning had been able to break down the wall she had erected in an effort to protect herself from the trauma she’d endured.

  The truth was, once she’d finished describing the kidnapping and subsequent rescue, she’d wanted to lighten the atmosphere, not talk about her issues. The others had seemed to understand and let her. They’d shared some funny stories and the laughter had been good. For all of them. Now it was time to get back to business, and she was grateful to have Gavin at her side. She pressed the button on the wall.

  “How can I help you?”

  “Sarah Denning. I have an appointment with Dr. McCandless.”

  Three seconds later, the door buzzed and swung open. Sarah took a deep breath and walked through. Gavin took a seat in the waiting area. In front of her, a woman sat at a desk and waved her over. “Good morning, Ms. Denning.”

  “Good morning.” Sarah looked around. This was where Dustin had spent his last days. She found it depressing and enlightening. He’d sought help. He wanted to get better. He wanted to live. So, why had he died?

  “I’m Elizabeth,” the woman said, handing Sarah a clipboard with a stack of papers. “If you’ll just fill these out—”

  “I . . . um . . . went on the website and filled them all out.” Sarah pulled them from her bag and handed them over.

  “Oh, great. That’ll save some time.”

  “Right.” Because saving time was important. Nerves attacked her. Gavin had insisted on escorting her, and she was grateful for his presence, but now it was time for her to step up and deal with this alone. And she’d have to be careful. So very careful in what she said and how she said it. But the guilt was pounding her. Was she taking an appointment away from someone who truly needed it?

  She took a seat next to Gavin.

  “You ready for this?” Gavin asked, his voice soft in the muted environment.

  “I don’t really have a choice.”

  “If you question her outright, she’s not going to be forthcoming with anything.”