by Jenna Harte
Sydney looked down. “He looked at a lot of people. Hospital staff, old colleagues, friends even.”
Mitch sat back, his gaze staring off toward nothing as if he was thinking. Finally, he looked at her. “I’m going to check in with Kevin. His and Jenny’s families are here now, so he doesn’t need me.”
Sydney looked to the crowd around Kevin. She hadn’t even noticed them arrive.
“Then you and I are leaving.”
She flinched at the authority in his tone. “What do you mean?”
“We need to talk about this, but I don’t want to do it here.” He stood.
The only explanation was that he was going to take her to the police station. She wasn’t sure why she needed to retell the story there as opposed to right where she was, but she nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
She glanced at him, surprised and comforted by the spontaneous gesture of reassurance.
Mitch glanced back at Sydney as he strode toward Kevin. He’d already been keyed up over Jenny’s attack, but to hear Sydney had been assaulted as well nearly brought him to his knees. His chest was so tight at the image of her wounded and needing help that he could barely breathe.
It didn’t make any sense. The Sydney he knew wasn’t the type to make enemies. Even in college, at first, many had thought she was conceited, but it was because she’d been shy and unsure. Once she’d come out of her shell, everyone liked her. Even the catty women who should have hated her because of her wealth and beauty couldn’t muster a bad word. Sydney was kind and gentle. Had she changed? Or had some man misread her kindness as interest and then tried to kill her when she rebuked him?
Kevin looked up at him, so Mitch put thoughts of Sydney aside for the moment. “I’ve gotta run. Do you need anything?”
“Does she know something?”
“Maybe.” The dread in Kevin’s eyes compelled Mitch to hold back all the details he’d learned from Sydney. Tension radiated in waves off of Kevin telling Mitch he was trying to be strong, probably for his family. He didn’t need to know what Sydney has shared until Mitch had thoroughly questioned her.
“You find who did this, Mitch.” Jenny’s mother held onto Kevin’s arm.
“I will. Keep me posted. Jenny is strong. She’s fighting hard.”
Kevin nodded and hiccupped, as he worked to hold back a sob. Mitch hated that he couldn’t do more to reassure and comfort his friend. Mitch was torn at leaving, but when it came to violent crime, there was no time to waste. Leads had to be followed immediately or they went cold.
Sydney waited for him by the elevators. Fear and guilt warred in her eyes. He knew the fear of being hunted from his days in the military. And he understood the guilt from having someone pay a heavy price because of him. He’d planned to take her to the station but decided she might be more comfortable somewhere else.
“Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“Hungry?”
She shook her head then poked the elevator button impatiently as if she could will the car to get there faster. That’s when Mitch noticed she was wearing scrubs.
“You should change.”
She looked down, her eyes narrowing and her mouth forming a small O as if she only just realized she wasn’t in her regular clothes. “They’re in my locker.”
The doors to the elevator opened and they stepped in.
“What floor?”
“Four.”
Mitch pushed the button and then stood back to let the doors close. Next to him, Sydney stood, stoic and strong. The only hints of distress were the tremble in her chin, the tears welling in her eyes. Mitch wanted to comfort her. He’d tried before when he squeezed her shoulder, but it felt too small for such an emotional situation, especially for a woman he’d once loved.
The urge to hold her, protect her, was strong, as strong as the fear that if he did he wouldn’t be able to keep up his guard. The last thing he wanted was to let Sydney get past the wall around his heart he’d spent ten years building. But what the hell kind of man was he if he didn’t offer support when she was clearly in distress?
He took a breath to bolster his own strength. “Hey, Syd.” He reached out, took her arm, and pulled her to him.
Surprise shone in her wide eyes. He didn’t know what to say, but fortunately, whatever she saw in his face, allowed her to accept his comfort.
“Oh, Mitch.” Her fingers clutched at his shirt as she buried her face in his chest and wept.
He could have told her it would be all right, but he knew they were just words. So he rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.
The elevator stopped, and she pulled away.
“I’m okay.” She wiped her tears with his handkerchief.
When the doors opened, he followed her out into the hall.
“I’ll go change and be right out.”
“I’ll wait here.” Mitch stood by the elevators. He watched her make her way up the hall, wishing he could do more to wipe away her pain.
“Mitch.” Carla Dreyer, a nurse at the hospital, appeared from behind, startling him.
“Hey, Carla.”
“Can I help you?”
The redness in her eyes suggested she’d heard about Jenny. “I’m waiting for Doctor Preston.”
“Oh really.” There was judgment in her harsh tone, which surprised him. Normally, they were friendly. She’d been one of the first women he’d dated when he’d returned from Iraq and had helped him through the difficult transition from military to civilian life. Even after they’d stopped dating, they’d been friends, or so he thought.
“You have heard about Jenny Taggard, haven’t you?” Accusation laced her tone.
Now he understood: Did people really think he was an insensitive heel and a Lothario? “Yes. I’m working the case. Doctor Preston is a witness.”
“Oh.”
He saw regret in her eyes, but he pressed on before she could apologize. “Did you happen to see anything?”
She shook her head. “I just got on a few minutes ago.”
“If you hear anything, let me know.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Mitch stayed by the elevators as Carla continued up the hall toward the nurse’s station. Sydney appeared and stopped to talk to Carla. They hugged, suggesting that despite her short employment at the hospital, Sydney had made strong connections with the people she worked with. It wasn’t surprising. Sydney was unexpectedly adaptable and personable for a woman from a rich, sheltered background.
She walked toward him, her honey-colored hair still in a ponytail that should have looked out of place with her dark skirt and crisp shirt, but somehow didn’t. Her eyes were red, but she’d washed the streaks of tears from her cheeks.
“I’ll take you to your car and then you can follow me.”
She stopped and stared at him with wide eyes. “I don’t have my keys. I gave them to Jenny to get some journals out of my car. She’s studying to become a midwife, so I’ve been—”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Syd. Breathe.”
She inhaled. Or at least tried. The breath was shallow and shaky.
“It would be insensitive of me to go find them now. I know you don’t like me, but maybe you can give me a ride.”
Mitch wanted to correct her. He didn’t not like her. He just couldn’t let himself be ensnared by her charm. He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drive. We’ll make arrangements to get your car another time.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Mitch pulled into the parking lot of the Dixie Diner. Showing up with Sydney would start the gossip mill about his latest “conquest” but taking her to the station for a formal interview might increase her stress. He needed information and, therefore, needed her to be comfortable and calm.
“I thought you were taking me to the police station.”
“The food’s no good there.”
“I told
you I’m not hungry.”
He put his vehicle into park then turned his gaze to her. “But I am. And it’s a nicer place to conduct an interview.”
She let out a breath. “Okay.”
He held the door to let her walk in before him. “There’s a booth near the back.” He placed a hand on her elbow to steer her in the right direction.
“Hey, Mitch.”
He was relieved to see Chelsea coming to their table. She’d tell Lexie about seeing him with Sydney, but not the whole town. That didn’t stop her from sizing up Sydney, though.
“Chels, this is Doctor Preston.” He decided not to say more. For one, it wasn’t her business. And two, if he explained he was working, then he’d have to tell her about Jenny, and he didn’t need that getting out just yet. “This is Chelsea Beemer. Normally she’s a teacher, but school’s out.”
“In May?”
Chelsea nodded. “Yeah, our school year runs from August to May.”
Despite her distress, Sydney mustered a smile. “What grade do you teach?”
“Kindergarten.”
“All those little children. That must be like herding cats.”
Chelsea’s assessing gaze morphed into acceptance. “To be honest, this job is harder.”
“I’ll take some of those bacon tater bits and milk.” Mitch wanted to get to business. “What do you want?”
“A glass of water would be nice.”
“Also bring her a hot chocolate with a peppermint soother.”
Chelsea lifted one brow. “Okay.” She took the order and headed toward the kitchen to deliver it.
“What’s a peppermint soother?”
“You’ll like it.” He rested his forearms on the table. “Tell me again about sending Jenny to your car.”
Sydney picked up a spoon and fiddled with it as she retold her story. “Jenny’s attacker had to be after me.”
He nodded. It was a logical assumption. “What happened in New York?”
Her eyes closed.
He was patient as he waited for her to begin. He knew firsthand, no matter how many times the story was told or how long ago traumatic events occurred, they never got easier to talk about. He’d stopped talking about his years ago.
“It wasn’t raining, but it was dark. I’d finished my shift at the hospital and was going to my car. I felt the stab before I realized anyone was there.” She flinched, as if reliving the knife cutting into her skin.
Instinct had him taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Her head jerked up to look at him at his touch.
He didn’t react to her stare and continued on. “Did you see your attacker?”
She shook her head. “He pushed me down. I hit my head on my bumper.” Absently, she touched her temple, where he noticed a small scar. “By the time I was able to get my bearings, he was gone. I set off my car alarm, but it’s so common in New York, no one responded.”
Ignoring car alarms was common everywhere, but she didn’t need to hear that now. “I thought you said the police thought the attacker was scared off by a car.”
“Several cars came by and may have scared him, but no one noticed me, even when my car alarm went off.”
Mitch imagined her bleeding, scared, and alone. The violent need to protect her rose, hot and hard within him. Although it was ridiculous, there was a part of him that felt guilty. As if he should have been able to protect her. Even now, fear lingered in her eyes, but also something else. There was a strength that hadn’t been there when he knew her before. There were only two ways to respond to a violent attack: hide from life or decide to live full on. She’d apparently chosen the latter. He felt a surge of pride. Good for her.
“I called the hospital on my phone.” She finished with a shaky breath.
“Parking lot of a hospital. Near your car. Knife in the back.” Mitch ticked off the similar elements between the two attacks.
“Yes, but my injury wasn’t as bad as Jenny’s. It hurt and scared me to death.” She shuttered. “But it wasn’t life threatening.”
“So, did he come back to finish what he botched? Why here and why after six months?”
“Why me?” Fear and bafflement etched her face, and again he felt the need to hold her, to reassure her.
Chelsea delivered their food and drinks. “Can I get y’all anything else?”
Mitch released Sydney’s hand. “No, we’re good.”
Chelsea walked away and Mitch made a mental note to check in on her. Sydney sipped her hot cocoa, her eyes narrowing as she studied the liquid in her cup. “Is there booze in this?”
“Yes. Peppermint booze.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Why?”
“It’s a rainy day and bad things have happened. Chocolate, peppermint, and booze are the best soothers for such days.”
Her lips twitched slightly. “Thank you.”
He nodded, plucking a toothpick with a bacon-wrapped tater round and popping it into his mouth. Sydney stared at him over the rim of her cocoa.
“Just don’t tell anyone. It’s strictly off the menu.” He pushed the plate toward her. “Want one?”
“I think one vice at a time is safer.”
He feigned ignorance. “What’s wrong with bacon and fried potatoes? They’re two of the four main food groups in the South.”
Her smile widened, reminding him how stunning she was. But this wasn’t a date. His partner’s wife was fighting for her life. Had things gone differently, it would have been Sydney. He pushed down the ball of fear in his gut at the thought of a world without her.
“So, were there any suspects in New York?”
She set her cup down. “The detective, Detective Fletcher, looked at all my friends and coworkers, but I guess there was nothing there.”
“Any he focused on?”
“Not really.”
Mitch wondered if that were true. He knew he always had people of interest when investigating a crime. The hard part was finding evidence that indicated which person was guilty. “I’d like his number. Let him know about this attack and see what he might have that can help.”
Sydney reached for her purse, pulled out a business card, and handed it to him. He used his phone to scan the card into his contact list.
“Who’d he take a serious look at?” Mitch handed the card back to her.
She sighed. “The only one I felt might be involved was Doctor Singer. I worked with him in Jordan. I had dinner with him a few times, but when I realized he thought we were dating, I stopped seeing him. But he was persistent.”
“Persistent how?”
“He kept asking me to eat with him. If I was having a meal with other people, he’d join in. That was annoying, but not concerning. But he showed up in New York a month or so after I got home. Said he was looking for work there and wanted to know if I wanted to get together.”
Mitch kept his face impassive, even as his brain thought of cruel and unusual ways to hurt Doctor Singer. “Did you?”
“I met him for lunch, but I brought Patrick with me. I figured if Doctor Singer thought I was seeing someone, he’d leave me alone. And it worked. At least I thought it did. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Did Patrick know he was a decoy date?”
“Yes. I’ve known Patrick since I was a child. I’m sure I talked about him and Julia when we were in college. They were with me at the fair this weekend.”
Mitch nodded. “If the same guy attacked you and Jenny, we have to look at who has been both in New York and here. I’ll see what I can learn about this Doctor Singer, but what about Patrick? Maybe he didn’t like being a decoy date. Maybe he wanted more. If I remember correctly, he’d once had more.”
Sydney shook her head and waved Mitch’s comment away. “No. He’s like a brother to me.”
“Is he still in town?”
Sydney’s jaw tightened and her eyes flashed with annoyance. “He and Julia left this morning. Long before the attack.”
Mitch nodded but made a
mental note to check on Patrick’s whereabouts at the time Jenny was assaulted.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Sydney said, “Patrick is a good man. He’s the one I stayed with after the attack. He took care of me.”
“Where were your parents? And I thought you weren’t hurt badly.”
“They were on safari in Africa. I couldn’t reach them. And my wound wasn’t fatal, but I was hurt and needed help for a short time.”
“So you and he never rekindled your high school romance?” Mitch inwardly kicked himself. It wasn’t a relevant question.
“No.” But there was hesitation in her response.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
She sighed. “I think there have been times he’s been interested in rekindling our romantic relationship.”
“Why don’t you?” Mitch took a sip of milk, hoping she didn’t call him on his prying.
“He’s not y—” She stopped short. “He’s not the type of man I see myself with.”
Mitch watched her as he set down his milk and wiped his mouth with his napkin. A part of him hoped she would finish her first thought. Not in a I’m-glad-you-like-me-so-I-can-hurt-you-the-way-you-hurt-me kind of way, but in a I-wonder-if-this-thing-between-us-is-real kind of way. The thought both terrified and excited him. But since he still didn’t know what to do about it, he ate another bacon tater.
“I’ll need to talk to him.”
Sydney didn’t argue. “He’s at a conference in Washington, D.C.”
“Where is he staying?”
“A Marriott. I think it’s on Pennsylvania Avenue.”
Mitch worked to keep his voice unaffected, professional. “What about Jagger? He’s from New York, and he’s here now. Hasn’t he asked you out yet? He told me he would.”
Sydney’s eyes narrowed. “Why were you talking about me?”
“He wanted me to give him the okay. He seemed to think there was something between us. I assured him there wasn’t.”
She sat back. Anger and hurt flashed in her hazel eyes. “He stopped by yesterday. I reminded him that I couldn’t go out with him because of Julia.”
“I don’t get that.” Mitch pushed the half-eaten plate of grease, bacon, and potato aside. “Jagger and I are friends, and I’m okay with him seeing you.” Mitch hoped Sydney didn’t hear his brain scream, “LIAR!”