To her credit she didn’t retaliate, merely lifted her delicate arms in frustration and closed her eyes.
Finn was tempted to apologize, but those words were less inclined to cooperate. He hadn’t even heard the knock on the door, but there was a man in a white coat approaching the bed, introducing himself as Dr. Jose Nunez.
A thick accent coated his words. “I’d like to go over a few things on your blood work that came back. But before I get into that, are you currently taking any prescription medications?”
Joselyn shook her head. “No. I take a multivitamin every day, that’s it.”
“Are you sure you don’t remember taking anything yesterday? Perhaps a sleep aid?”
“No. I don’t sleep well, but I’ve had bad reactions to those kinds of drugs in the past. Though that was years ago. To be honest, I’d rather deal with the insomnia.”
It felt like eavesdropping. He considered stepping out, but something planted his feet in place, some unspoken suspicion. And since Joselyn would no doubt rather peel wallpaper with her perfectly manicured fingers than have a conversation with him, he resolved to stay and find out firsthand.
“Miss Whyte, we found a large amount of a barbiturate known as secobarbital, or more commonly, Seconal, in your system. This type of drug is used to induce sleep, reduce anxiety, control seizures. And—”
“What? Someone drugged me?” A white wall of panic washed over her face again. Her trembling fingers knotting together in a self-soothing gesture that didn’t appear to be working.
Finn hadn’t remembered crossing the room, but found himself at her bedside. His protective instincts momentarily trumping his stubborn pride.
“So it would seem. And from the high concentration we found in your blood, it’s a miracle you were able to wake up at all. It was about enough to knock out a rhino.”
“Great, another miracle.” Joselyn dropped her head into her hands and seemed to check out.
The doc arched a dark brow at Finn in question.
“So what you’re saying is … someone was trying to kill her?” Finn’s inquiry drew her face out of her hands and into a mangled expression of terror he’d do anything to erase.
Dr. Nunez sighed. “I don’t know. But it would seem this whole thing was no accident. We’ll alert the authorities so they can look for foul play. I’m sure someone will be in touch. On the bright side, you’re free to go this afternoon.”
Well thank you, Captain Bedside Manner. Finn grappled with the short leash of his temper. The treat ’em and street ’em philosophy wasn’t very tactful given the bomb he’d dropped.
But the man barreled on. “I want another oxygen treatment and we will check your carbon monoxide levels once more, but your chest x-ray looks good, as does the rest of your blood work. You should schedule a follow-up appointment, but the stitches in your arm will dissolve and you’ll be heading home, good as new.”
Finn might have growled. Was this guy for real? What was she supposed to do with that information? And where was she supposed to go now that her house had burned down and she was told someone might want her dead?
Joselyn couldn’t seem to speak. Or move.
The girl Finn knew was a force of nature. Strong. Stubborn. Impossible. But this Joselyn … she seemed frail. Helpless.
The chaotic misfiring of all of Finn’s instincts had him feeling helpless too. He doubted someone as prickly as Joselyn would welcome a shoulder to lean on, but how else could he comfort her without physically touching her? Maybe information would be better.
“Okay. I’m gonna call the chief and see if they found anything. Signs of tampering, accelerants …” Finn placed a hesitant hand on her bony little shoulder, lowering his voice. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
She bobbed her head, granting his leave, so he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stepped out into the hall.
After receiving the rundown of the scene from the chief, it was time to call Sadie. She was going to be livid that he hadn’t called right away, but he had his reasons. His finger hovered over the send button. She deserved a little happiness. This would certainly put a damper on things.
Sorry, Sadie. Please forgive me for ruining this for you.
Chapter 4
Joselyn Whyte
It was the first trickle she feared the most, yet it slipped through regardless. A single tear like a wet blot seeping through fibers of satin. One drop. Two. Dripping down with emotions she kept on ice, the very ones that were now fleeing from their frozen cage, spreading like infection, and filling her lungs until Joselyn was in the throes of a near panic attack, gasping for breath, dry drowning in her hospital bed. Despite the sudden weight sitting on her chest, the emptiness of the cold, empty room echoed back to her hollow heart, a reminder of the stain on her life and the cruel truth of her existence.
Joselyn Whyte was a marked woman. Tragedy her very own heat-seeking missile—well, maybe heat wasn’t the right word since she could never stave off a chill. Regardless, it was clear that the devil had her number.
You’re all alone.
The voice in her head taunted, or maybe it wasn’t in her head. More of a wicked whisper in her ear. The premonition shivered down her spine as the room suddenly felt occupied by something dark and terrifying.
Concentrating on drawing deep, even breaths, she shook away the unease and pulled on the thin woven blanket, fisting the flimsy warmth in her fingers.
How could her father not be here? Declan Whyte was an important man. She was accustomed to his absence, but somehow she’d deluded herself into thinking that the Whyte Empire would relent for one day, given the gravity of the circumstances. But, no.
Her father’s unfathomable success, a sneeze shy of Donald Trump’s, was never enough to quench his determination to take over the world. And now, with his precious Senate campaign … well, there was no questioning the man’s priorities.
Warring against her disappointment—not to mention her better judgment that warranted the silent treatment—she lifted the phone from the bedside table and set the drudgery in motion.
The ringing droned on and on, and righteous anger fired up in her gut. “Jerk.” She slammed the receiver back into its cradle, seething at his brush-off. Eyeing the grandiose bouquet of lilies set her anger on the brink of rage. As if flowers could make up for his absence? The sweet, lilting fragrance made her want to punt the sorry consolation down the hallway. Untucking her feet from the covers, she forced her achy limbs across the room. This oughtta be good.
Sorry for your loss.
Nice. Real nice. Not just the canned phrase and the unsigned card, but white lilies. Funeral flowers. At least, they were what her father always sent for such an occasion—mostly to his employees or their grieving families. Family. She grimaced. When had that become such an acrid word? The Whytes didn’t have any family to speak of. Two people obviously didn’t constitute a family. Or rather Declan Whyte was too busy to attend to anything so trivial. Too busy to visit his only daughter in the hospital. He probably wouldn’t have bothered to come back to identify her charred remains.
He would’ve just sent white lilies.
The door flung open, and her anger left her. Sadie took the room in two strides and threw herself into Joselyn’s barren arms.
“I came as soon as Finn called me.”
Joselyn looked over Sadie’s shoulder and spotted her brother in the shadowed doorway. His jaw flexed and caught a sheen of light, highlighting the angles of his face and sculpting chiseled features out of stone.
“Joss, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Keep reciting the words. Maybe even you will believe them.
“I called Archer. He and Sal are gonna stop in, if you’re up for it.”
With only the mention of the man’s name, Joselyn’s heart buoyed at her friend’s undisguisable happiness. Sadie and her FBI boyfriend, Archer Hayes, had only been dating a few months, but it was the kind of romance right out of a stor
ybook—if there was one where two people fell in love while trying to catch a killer. Still. It was so sweet it’d be sickening if it were anyone but Sadie. She’d been through so much and deserved the very best.
Joselyn would settle for mediocre at this point if it could cure her loneliness. Sad, but true. Which was why she’d agreed to another date with her neighbor.
When she looked up from her introspective moment, Sadie and Finn looked away quickly, then exchanged worried glances in some sort of mind-melding, nonverbal sibling speak she resented and envied in equal measure.
“Sorry. I was just … thinking.” Of what? Think of something or they are going to have you admitted to the psych ward. “I’m supposed to be released today, but it’s obvious I can’t go home. And the press will swarm a hotel within an hour.”
“You’re staying with me.” Sadie squeezed Joselyn’s hand.
“No.” Joselyn shook her head adamantly. “No way. I don’t know how much ‘Captain Ego’ told you, but this fire was no accident. Someone was trying to kill me. I won’t drag you into this.”
Sadie smirked. “Ego did tell me. But—”
“Hey!” Finn protested the continued use of the idiotic moniker.
“Sorry. Truth.” She patted her brother’s arm in consolation. “But I’m not taking no for an answer, Joss. Besides, Archer and his partner, Sal, will take turns keeping an eye on us.”
“But—”
“You can save the excuses; it’s already in the works. Archer has an in with the Kirkwood PD. They agreed to let them in on the investigation, so Archer and Sal will ask you some questions and we are all gonna strategize.” Sadie’s turquoise eyes, perfect replicas of Finn’s, flashed with mischief. “I’ve cracked a case in my day, remember?”
Joselyn smiled, relishing the small wonder of happiness amid the wreckage of the past twelve hours. “How could I forget your nauseating happily ever after? It’s only been, what, three months? The story’s hit the bestseller list in my ears alone, you broken record.” Joselyn let her words taunt playfully, “Love conquers all. We know.”
Sadie snorted indelicately and adorably. “You just wait. Someday you’ll find the right guy, and you’ll be as ridiculous as me.”
“Oh heaven help us all, the world will be ending.” Joselyn giggled back until her gaze collided with Finn’s. His indecipherable expression stole her amusement. She curled her fingers into the threadbare gown where the excess fabric hung at her thighs.
“Sooo, how was your date with the doctor? Sparks fly?” Sadie clamped a hand over her own mouth. “Oops, sorry. Too soon for fire humor?”
Releasing the wrinkles she’d created with her fists, Joselyn shook her head, chirping out another giggle. The girl knew exactly how to cheer her up.
Sadie scrunched her nose. “Some other time, perhaps.”
“Full report when I’ve de-singed.” Joselyn grinned and wormed back into the hospital bed, covering up her not-so-fashionable attire moments before Archer and Sal made their entrance.
“Hey, Joss. How’re you holding up?” Tall, dark, and so very handsome, Archer approached her bedside with his sidekick. The lilies were overrun by the smell of men—a clean, spicy, masculine air that was an easy preference over funeral flowers.
“Oh, I’m peachy. Sal, nice to see you again.”
“You, too. Sorry about your house. Extra crispy, hold the tasty, huh? That really sucks.” At Archer’s not so subtle nudge Sal glared back at him. “What?”
Archer huffed his exasperation at his guileless partner.
“You two could have your own sitcom.” Joselyn couldn’t help but smile, feeling remarkably at ease, given the circumstances.
Sal brightened. “You know, that’s not a bad ide—”
“Don’t feed him any ideas. So, give me the rundown?”
Finn cleared his throat. “I called Chief Barrett. The investigation is underway, but they haven’t found much. The bomb and arson unit’s working on accelerants and origin. They’ll know more in a couple of days, but the timing is consistent with the Five-Alarm Arsonist.”
“Have they made any progress with that investigation?” Archer snaked his arm around his girl and glued her to his side. Noticing the way his thumb traced the curve of Sadie’s waist made Joselyn painfully aware of how pitifully deprived she was of human contact.
“No leads for six months now. He’s claimed six buildings and two victims. Each new location a little more brazen. Word is the firebug started with kerosene and has since progressed to homemade pipe bombs at the last target. It all appears random—except for the fact that he strikes on the fifth of each month. This is no exception.” Finn shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“Well—”
What was sure to be Archer’s plan of action was interrupted by the blare of the bedside phone. Joselyn startled. Reaching over to silence the shrill ringing, she answered the phone and held up a finger to the group.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Joselyn. It’s your father. You all right?” His voice was all business, as usual.
“Well, I’m alive. Can’t say the same for my house.”
“It’s high time we get you a more respectable residence anyhow. Never understood why you’d choose to live in that hovel.”
Her eyes rolled in reflex, her shields rising against the sting of his thoughtless words. “Oh yes, what a relief to be rid of my home and all of my possessions. And as an added bonus we now know someone torched the place on purpose. Quite the load off my mind, let me tell you.”
Silence reigned for a long moment. “That can’t be right. Are you certain?”
“Your concern is touching. Sadie is here with Agent Hayes and Agent Sal … ivas?” She lingered over the pronunciation of his last name, and Sal confirmed with a wink. “… of the FBI. And Finn Carson is here, too. I believe you spoke with him already.” She let her eyes flash on Finn. Burly arms were crossed, expression guarded, yet his steely eyes seemed to penetrate the wall between them. The one very clearly marked Keep Out!
“Put me on speaker.”
“What?”
“Joselyn, do as you’re told. Put me on speakerphone.”
“Dad, it’s a hospital phone. I’m pretty sure there’s no speaker. And my phone bur—”
“Tell that Finn fellow to answer his phone.” Click.
No sooner had Joselyn eased the phone from her ear when a jolt of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” blasted from her rescuer’s pocket.
“Hello?”
Joselyn still hadn’t found her voice, when Finn continued with “Yes, sir.”
“Can everyone hear me?” her father called out, his tone as firm as his staunch Scottish accent.
A chorus of affirmations rang out.
“Now I am assuming the FBI is not officially involved in this, correct?”
The rigid taskmaster strikes again.
Archer chimed in. “We will be working in tandem with the police and state fire team. Our main concern is to keep eyes on your daughter, make sure she stays safe until we find this guy.”
Declan’s condescension reached through the airwaves like an infuriating pat on the head. “Well, that’s a swell sentiment, young man, but I think I’d like to hire some additional protection as w—”
Oh, no! “Dad, if you sick Gill and Royce on me, I promise I will never speak to you again.” That drew a few curious glances. “Your Scottish goons are about as subtle as socks with sandals. And, if you must know, Gill’s lazy eye has a distinctive leering quality that makes me itch.”
“What would you have me do, Joselyn? The company Christmas gala is in two weeks. It’s early yet, but I need you there to rally support for the campaign. It’s obvious you can’t go alone, and that doctor you went out with could be overpowered by an angry Girl Scout.”
“Are you kidding me?” Her face burned, more from fury than embarrassment. “Our first date was last night! Have you had them tailing me, again?”
The last time Declan had her followed, she happened to be going to her annual ob-gyn appointment. Gill, rocket scientist that he was, started spouting ideas to her father about an unplanned pregnancy. What the oaf didn’t know when he barged in on her breast exam, was that she’d gone on a Ben & Jerry’s bender for two weeks, drowning her sorrows from a slew of horrendous blind dates in Chunky Monkey and Half Baked. The “baby bump” Gill imagined was three extra pounds of heavenly, albeit reckless, indulgence.
She didn’t need an answer and didn’t give her father a chance to give one. “You know what, this conversation is over.” She fired an expectant glare at Finn to hang up. He shifted his weight, looking conflicted.
“Fine.” Her father snapped. “But you’ll need an escort—preferably someone who can pose as a boyfriend to avoid suspicion for the campaign. I’d really like to keep this under the radar. We don’t need a scandal throwing away all the good press I’ve been getting. And it sure wouldn’t hurt to soften your image a bit.”
Joselyn bit back an angry retort and a few tenacious tears fighting for release. Could there be a more selfish human being on the planet? The tender places ached from the continued blows of his words. Not soft? She was bruised all over. Not that he cared to see. And what scandal? Wasn’t she the victim in all this?
Hurt after hurt swelled up in waves, threating to drown her in the drone of names of possible suitors that would play the part to perfection. Every mortifying word airing in front of the studio audience at her bedside while her aching head screamed at the indignance of his meddling. She wanted to close her eyes, click her heels, and be anywhere but here. But once Declan Whyte set his mind to something, not a soul with breath could escape the path of his personal tornado. She looked to Sadie and was met with a forced smile and a helpless shrug.
“I could do it.” Sal stepped forward, resting his hand near the head of the hospital bed. “It sure wouldn’t be hard to pretend to like you for a few weeks.” He winked and flashed her a sweet, goofy grin.
From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two Page 3