Acceptable Risk

by Lynette Eason

  He didn’t want to believe it, but the proof was right there.

  Now, he had to quit stalling and decide exactly how to handle everything.

  For the second time in his life, he simply didn’t know what to do. After several more minutes of deliberation, he picked up his cell phone and punched in a number. When the person answered with a gruff hello, Lewis said, “We need to talk.”

  Caden met the two detectives at the hospital, along with a CID detective named Patty Boyer. He had just walked through the door when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. A text from Sarah.

  Need to see you ASAP. I’d planned to talk to you this morning, but you left too early.

  Caden frowned and typed.

  At the hospital getting ready to question Wilmont about this guy Max. We just got approval from the doctor to talk to him so I bolted.

  When you finish, we’ll be waiting at your house.

  Caden texted a thumbs-up, then returned to the picture of the clean-shaven man who had been reported killed in a car accident—and yet facial recognition software said he was very much alive in spite of the beard, mustache, and wire-rimmed glasses shown in the security footage.

  According to the official report, Mr. Xia had been driving late at night in heavy rain and hit a deer, which had sent him careening over an embankment and into a gas station tank. A spark had set off an explosion, and by the time rescue workers arrived, there was nothing left of the car or Mr. Xia. And yet, a man named Max—aka Mr. Xia—had sent Wilmont with medication to Brianne Davis’s house and was masquerading as an employee at the hospital.

  When they stepped onto Wilmont’s floor, Caden’s gaze landed on Heather Fontaine, standing at the nurses’ station pointing to something on her laptop. She looked and waved. He nodded and trailed behind Elliott and Caroline, stopping in front of Wilmont’s room.

  Elliott knocked and pushed the door open. “Mr. Wilmont,” the detective said, “glad to see you’re awake and feeling better.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Everything okay?” Heather’s soft voice came from behind Caden.

  He turned. “Yeah, we just have a few questions for this guy.”

  “He’s the one who attacked Sarah?”

  “He is.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Caden slipped inside the room and stood to the left of the door. Heather stayed behind him close enough to hear.

  “I trust you’ve had no ill effects from the evacuation?” Caroline asked.

  “No,” Wilmont said. “I’m fine. Turns out it was mostly smoke. They got everything contained pretty fast.”

  “We heard,” Caroline said.

  “So, why are you back? I don’t remember anything more than I’ve already told you.”

  Elliott raked a hand over his hair. “We wanted to ask you about Max.”

  Wilmont shifted under the sheets and sniffed. “What do you want to know about him?”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “Just a few weeks.”

  “So, he was new?”

  “Yeah.” He frowned. “He just showed up one day and said he was the new guy and his name was Max.”

  “What’s his last name?”

  “I dunno. I never asked.”

  “It would have been on his badge.”

  The man in the bed rubbed his eyes. “Ah man, it’s weird. I never can remember it. I just call him Max.”

  “Was it Xia?”

  “Yeah, maybe. Yeah, I think that was it.” He pursed his lips. “If you knew, why ask me?”

  “Tell us everything you can about the guy.”

  “There’s not that much.” He paused. “I like him. He treats me like I’m human, like he saw me. Most of the time, I feel invisible, but Max is . . . nice.”

  “Did he ever say anything about a car wreck?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Did you ever go to his house?”

  “No! I told you I only knew the guy a few weeks. And besides, I think he’s living at the hospital.”

  Caden straightened. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, one time about two weeks ago, there was a particularly nasty job to clean up in the ER. Max wasn’t supposed to be working that day. He’d told me the day before that he had something to take care of. I went looking for some cleaner and caught him coming out of one of the storage closets. He didn’t see me and I didn’t make it a point to let him know I saw him.” Wilmont rubbed his nose and shrugged. “Anyway, after I finished for the day, I snooped around in the closet and found several blankets and a pillow piled in the corner. Underneath the pile, there were a couple changes of clothes and a backpack full of toiletries. Not many people go in that closet, just janitorial staff, so there’s a good chance he wouldn’t be caught.”

  “Did you report it?” Patty asked.

  “No way. I liked Max. And like I said, he was nice to me. Not many people even notice the cleaning crew.”

  Elliott glanced at Caden, then handed Wilmont a pad of paper and a pen. “Write down exactly where this closet is.”

  Sarah shot another glance at Gavin. He’d accepted her disclosure with so much sympathy and understanding that it unsettled her. Her nerves were shot. Before she could recover her composure, her phone buzzed. “That’s Caden.” She set her coffee aside and tapped the screen. “Hello?”

  “I can’t talk long, just letting you know I’m still at the hospital.”

  “I figured.”

  “It’s probably going to be a while.”

  She hesitated. “Okay, we’ll come by the hospital and wait. What did Wilmont say?”

  “That Max might be living here at the hospital. We’re heading to check out the closet he’s possibly been calling home. Look, I have to go. I’ll let you know if we find him.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Caden.”

  “Sure. Gotta go. Let me know when you’re here and I’ll tell you where to meet.”

  She hung up and Gavin raised a brow. “What was that about?”

  “Caden said Max might be living at the hospital and they’re going looking for him. And . . . we’re heading to the hospital to meet Caden to fill him in, because he’s going to be a while. But I really think he needs to see this stuff from Dustin.”

  “I agree.”

  Sarah studied the paper with the red dots one more time. “Look,” she said. “Those dots match up with the states these people are from.”

  “The people not on the list for the trial?”

  “Yeah, they’re on the second list.”

  Gavin pulled his laptop toward him and soon the sound of clicking keys filled the room while she pondered what it could all mean.

  Heather had been so quiet, Caden had almost forgotten she was there, but when they headed out of Wilmont’s room, following the detectives and one of the members of hospital security down the hall, she stayed with him. “Can I see that?” she asked.

  Elliott raised a brow but handed her the directions.

  “I know where this is,” she said. “It’s actually a room used as storage.”

  “You want to lead? It’ll be easier than trying to read that chicken scratch.”

  “Sure.”

  The CID agent brought up the rear.

  When they arrived at the storage closet, the security officer swiped his key card, opened the door, and flipped on the light.

  Caroline took the lead, weaving her way toward the back of the room. Metal shelves lined the walls, and more were placed in the center of the room, effectively creating a hidden area in the back, not visible from the door. Caden walked toward a bathroom while Elliott headed toward a pile of blankets against the back wall.

  “Found the backpack,” Elliott called.

  “And I found Mr. Xia,” Caden said.

  After ten minutes of research, Gavin leaned back into the sofa cushion. “They’re all vets, obviously. A lot of them are dead. Suicides. Several survived suicide attempts.”

  She
frowned. “It’s the drug,” she said. She shivered and grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of the sofa and pulled it over her head. “Whatever that drug is, it’s not working and they’re covering it up.” She paused. “I wonder how close it is to being approved by the FDA?”

  “That’s a good theory,” he said, “but Dustin said it was working, remember?”

  She sighed. “Right. That doesn’t make sense. Then again, if you think about it, everyone we talked to said their relatives’ mood changed almost lightning quick. Brianne’s friend even said she was gone for less than an hour. When she left, Brianne was fine and planning a trip to Hawaii. When she got back, she was in the pit of despair.” She stilled as part of a conversation floated to the forefront of her mind. “Wait a minute.”

  “What?”

  “Dr. Kilgore and the other man I heard in the hallway of the hospital were talking about a drug. One asked if Brianne was on it, and when Dr. Kilgore said yes, the other guy told him to take her off of it.”

  Gavin blinked. “Okay. What if it’s not the drug itself that causes suicidal thoughts . . . er . . . actions, but the withdrawal from it?”

  She nodded. Then frowned and shook her head. “But Wilmont took the drug too, remember? Has he displayed any suicidal symptoms?”

  Gavin pursed his lips. “No, but maybe two pills simply weren’t enough. He wouldn’t have withdrawals from that, would he?”

  “I wouldn’t think so.”

  “Then why was Max sending those pills to Brianne? To keep her from having withdrawals?”

  “Has to be. Hopefully, Caden will have some answers by the time we get there.” She gathered the papers from the table and stuffed them into the manila envelope. She’d set the journal aside, convinced there was nothing in there but Dustin’s private thoughts. One day, she might read them—and share them with Caden—but for now, she knew there was no way she could read Dustin’s words and be privy to his most intimate thoughts without losing control of her emotions. Later, once the violent sting of his sudden passing had eased, she might be able to handle it.

  Gavin took her plate to the sink, rinsed it, and stuck it in the dishwasher. Her jaw dropped. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

  He turned and frowned. “Do what?”

  “Load a dishwasher.”

  He laughed. “It’s not rocket science.”

  “Might as well be. Neither Dustin nor Caden ever learned how to do that.”

  A knowing smile slid across his lips. “I guarantee you Caden knows how to load one. And I’m sure Dustin did too. It’s just if they played the helpless male, you’d take pity on them and do it for them.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve always suspected that. What brats.”

  “Don’t tell Caden I broke the ‘bro code’ and revealed one of our secrets.”

  Sarah laughed. Then sobered. “I won’t say a word, but he might suspect when I tell him it’s his turn to load the dishwasher.”

  “Who’s been loading it since you’ve been here?” Mirth danced in his eyes.

  “Well, duh. The dishwasher fairies, of course. The same ones who load yours, I suspect.”

  His laughter rang through the kitchen and the sound pierced her heart. He was a good man. An honest one. He had a serious side but didn’t take himself too seriously. He could be deadly in a situation that required it—and yet gentle as a warm breeze on a sunny day. He was a mass of contradictions and he fascinated her. And scared her. He could break her heart without even trying at this point. She’d laid it out there for him and felt like she’d been left in limbo.

  He called Asher and Travis and filled them in on their upcoming trip to the hospital, then watched the area while she climbed into the passenger seat. Once they were on the way, she let out a low sigh.

  “I’m a very selfish person, aren’t I?” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

  He blinked, glanced at her, then back at the road. “What makes you say that?”

  “You were right about the apartment, for one thing. I was only thinking of myself when I moved in. I had no thought or worry that Caden would lose sleep over it. I didn’t care about my father’s opinion. Still don’t, really, but I should have considered Caden’s.”

  Gavin shook his head. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Sarah. When we’re hurting, sometimes we do things and it’s almost impossible to see past that hurt.”

  Like sleep with anyone who asked? Was that a reference to her past? Even if it wasn’t, it still fit. “You say some very wise things sometimes, you know that?”

  A chuckle rumbled from him. “Well, thank you. I try.” He paused. “What did your father do to make you so angry? I know he wasn’t here a lot, but surely there’s more to it than just that.”

  “He let my mother die without him.” Sarah said the words aloud for the first time. “He didn’t come home in time to be with her before she died.”

  “Oh. Maybe he couldn’t.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. He said he simply couldn’t leave when we needed him to and refused to explain further.” She settled her elbow on the armrest and looked out the window. “Mom was in the hospital after passing out and she was quickly moved to hospice. I called my dad and left message after message on the emergency number we had for him.” She shook her head. “Days passed. By the time he called me back, she’d taken a turn for the worse and slipped into a coma.” A shuddering sigh escaped her. He threaded his fingers through hers, enfolding her in his warmth. For a moment, she simply let herself embrace the comfort his touch offered. “When he called, I told him the news and he said he would be on the next flight home. She died the next day and I found out he hadn’t even left Afghanistan.”

  “You were with her. She wasn’t alone.”

  “But she wanted him. She had things she wanted to say to him and he never gave her that chance. He stole that from her, and I, for some reason, can’t get past it. I’ve gotten past a lot of stuff, but not that.”

  “Don’t hate me for asking, but have you tried?”

  Sarah flinched, bit her tongue on the first thought that whipped across her mind, and forced herself to really consider the question. Sometimes she hated her inability to be anything but honest. “No,” she said, “I haven’t. I’ve been too busy being angry with him.”

  Gavin shot her a smile and a sympathetic look. “At least you admit it.”

  She frowned. “Now quit asking me deep questions like that until I’m ready to deal with them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “Travis and Asher are there.”

  Gavin shook his head. “Not much gets past you, does it?”

  She huffed a laugh. “More than I would like, I suspect. Don’t they need to sleep?”

  “They’re staying together and sleeping in shifts. Just in case.”

  “Got it.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Sarah, not while I’m still breathing. And that’s a promise.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  Max stepped out of the bathroom, wiping his freshly shaved jaw with a white towel. Another towel circled his waist, the corner tucked in near his navel. “I knew this was too good to last,” he said. “What gave me away?”

  “A little birdie named Wilmont,” Caden said.

  “Sam?”

  “The one and only.” Elliott tossed him a shirt, boxers, and a pair of jeans. “Get dressed, we’ve got some questions for you. You can use the bathroom to change, but leave the door open.”

  Max didn’t seem inclined to argue or attempt a disappearing act, but Caden wasn’t taking any chances. He stood in the doorway, his foot blocking the door from fully closing.

  Max changed and Caden handed him his shoes. “What’s all this about?” the man asked.

  Caroline gave a short laugh. “We’d like to know how a dead man is working . . .”

  “. . . and living . . . ,” Elliott said.

  “. . . a
t a hospital without getting caught,” Patty said.

  “But you did catch me.”

  “Not very quickly,” Elliott muttered, then scrubbed a hand down his cheek. “Let’s find a conference room.”

  The security officer led the way out of the closet and down the hall to stop in front of a closed door. He swiped the key card and held the door while they all filed in, with Max in the middle and Caden bringing up the rear.

  Elliott turned and pointed to Heather. “You don’t need to be in here.”

  Caden cleared his throat. “I think it might be helpful to have a physician’s ears on this. I know her and I trust her one hundred percent.”

  Elliott and Caroline exchanged glances and frowned. Then Caroline gave a slight nod. Elliott shrugged.

  “I’ll be right out here if you need anything,” the guard said.

  “Thanks.”

  The door shut and Caden took a seat at the end of the table. Mr. Xia sat opposite him, with Caroline and Elliott bookending him, one on each side of the table. Patty Boyer leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Heather perched on the edge of her seat next to Elliott.

  “That was you in the wreck, right?” Caroline asked.

  Max nodded. “I managed to get out of the car shortly before it exploded.”

  “Why play dead?”

  “Because the accident wasn’t an accident. Someone tried to kill me.”

  Caden raised a brow. “By planting a deer in the road?”

  “There wasn’t a deer. There was another car. It cut across in front of me and I went down the embankment.”

  Elliott leaned forward. “Who?”

  Max shifted and rubbed his chin. “Someone from the company I used to work for.”

  “Marshbanks Pharmaceuticals,” Caden said.

  Max nodded. “You’ve done your homework.”

  “It wasn’t hard. I remember the wreck from the news. What about your family?”