Fear Is Louder Than Words: Her stalker taught her fear. Her suspicions taught her terror.

by Linda S. Glaz

  Dr. Daniels switched his attention to Donna, tense as a rubber ball. “Can you think of anything that might be out of the commonplace with either his food or regimen? Has he recently taken medications for any reason whatsoever? Could he have been exposed to hazardous chemicals around the home or at his school?”

  Donna’s face flushed. Her breathing was rapid, and Ed wondered if she would get through this day emotionally. He hadn’t known her to escape reality before. Not without ice cream and hot fudge anyway.

  She licked her lips before speaking. “No. He’s had a very normal first year. Better than normal from what other parents have told me. I mean, other than sniffles a couple times, he hasn’t really been out of sorts. And the colds were gone unusually fast. Of course, we can check with the school.”

  Ed saw the blank look return as she stared past the doctor and out the window.

  “With a young baby like this, we can’t take any chances.” Daniels continued to re-read the labs as he spoke. “Let me go over the test results again, even have them rerun if necessary. I’ll have answers soon. Rest assured, we’re going to do all we can. And there will be a second and third consult if necessary. I won’t allow for mistakes.”

  Ed scanned the room from Donna to Rochelle to his brother. Time to keep his mouth shut. He’d said plenty already. Apparently something very troubling where Rochelle was concerned.

  CHAPTER 63

  ERIK CRASHED THROUGH THE back door but still managed to wipe his feet. No sense ruining white carpeting because he had incompetent employees who’d riled him.

  Margaret arrived in the kitchen a second later, stumbling toward the refrigerator. She lifted her glass. “Guten abend, Herr Doctor.”

  “Good evening, Margaret.” He dropped his briefcase by the door. “But I’m not in the mood.”

  “Oh, did he have a tough day?” She stepped forward, hand out to pinch his cheek. He swatted the fingers away. “Ooh. Poor baby. I’ll bet you’re hungry. Too bad, I didn’t cook.”

  “Shocker.”

  Erik brushed past her and through the dining room toward his office. He slumped in the chair without turning on the light. How had his life come to this? He was a pioneer—no, a genius. His work proof of that. Why couldn’t women see what he was trying to do and get on board?

  Soon, he would be published in every medical journal in the world. His name synonymous with utter brilliance. He should have picked only male employees for the clinic, but the mothers connected with Tessa and the two nurse practitioners. They even connected with Caroline, and heaven only knew it wasn’t for her intelligence. No, women in the medical field were a fact of life, albeit one he didn’t particularly like.

  “You’re a freak, Erik,” Margaret screamed from the kitchen. “You and all your work.”

  He groaned. Now there was a waste of a life … male or female. If only he had the courage to put his hands around her throat. And squeeze.

  “Do the women know all about you, dear husband? Each and every truth about your work? How is it those trusting mamas and their little ones return week after week to sit at the knee of the mastermind?”

  Erik’s hands fisted at his sides. With so little effort, he could end all of this and make it look like an accident. Poor Dr. Reinholdt. Drunk Margaret slipping and falling down the stairs.

  Hand tight, he struck his thigh. The pain let him know he could still feel.

  CHAPTER 64

  TWO LONG, TIRING DAYS later and the McGrath family plus one had still downed nothing but hospital cuisine. No one wanted to leave Cody long enough to go for takeout.

  In a gaudy hairnet that hardly contained his mad tangle of orange curls, a teen boy with pants bagging to his knees dragged a cleaning rag over the table next to the McGraths. Rochelle watched as he hiked up his pants and sloshed the cleaning rag in a bucket of pine water; then he took another stab at the smudges and broken pieces of potato chip and hot dog bun.

  The kid clattered a cup and saucer some diner had abandoned into a container of similar left behinds. He strode from the room, clacking across the floor in worn military-style boots with taps on the heels that played an irritating beat.

  Their table, next to the grill, caused Rochelle’s stomach to flip-flop, probably from the assorted cafeteria smells and hot grease. She shook her head when Ed offered her part of his chicken salad croissant. She had to eat something, but the alternating odors made the idea intolerable.

  Abandoning the all-but-untouched food on the table, everyone except she and Ed had left to meet with Dr. Daniels in his office. A bit of emotional downtime was sorely needed.

  Ed stared. “Hungry?”

  “A little.” She pushed bite-sized pieces of cherry pie around her plate. “It doesn’t taste good tonight. Too much almond flavoring.”

  “Not the Tin Crab, is it?” He grinned, reached over, and squeezed her hand.

  She frowned while giving a little shake of her head. “To be honest. I had forgotten all about dinner plans the other night. Sorry.” She rubbed her temples. Even talk took energy.

  Ed had issues concerning children. Hadn’t he made that clear in the hallway two days ago when he whispered in her ear? “I sure wouldn’t want to be in John’s shoes, would you?” Of course, he wouldn’t want that kind of responsibility with his career. He had plenty of his own problems as part of the team.

  Why hadn’t she realized it before now? All the dinners in fancy restaurants wouldn’t take away the fact she and Ed led different lives. She had to face the reality. His was on the road with the players. Her life was behind a microphone.

  Well, it had only been a kiss after all. No ring. No vows. Not even a promise.

  Ed snagged a look at a text. He leaned on one elbow and drew closer. “Daniels said one of the family members is a good match.”

  #

  Rochelle smiled. Her cheeks warmed. She stood to her feet, brushed at her pants, and snagged a nail on the pocket. Skirting the truth made this easier.

  “Look what I’ve done. I need a file.” Selfish or not, she couldn’t think about Cody at the moment. All the emotions of the last couple days tugged at her like a fifty-pound free weight. If the door of the cafeteria opened, she might run as far away as possible.

  Ed, just look me in the eyes and tell me you love me. Tell her she mattered more than life itself, but how foolish. He’d only known her a couple months.

  After a brief pause, she glanced at his questioning expression. What was he thinking? And who was the match to Cody?

  “Rochelle?”

  She nodded. “The whole process will go much faster if he isn’t placed on a waiting list. This has to be so difficult for John and Donna.” And then some. She tossed the paper napkins in a trashcan already overflowing—probably that kid’s job to empty. “Let’s go see if we can give them some support.”

  “Sounds good.” Ed placed his hand against the small of her back, and her breath caught in her throat as warmth seeped in.

  His hand guided her, firm but gentle. For her entire life she would be content to let him protect her. But that seemed an unlikely castle in the sky. When she turned to glance into his face, he gazed straight ahead. His hand the only reminder he knew she was beside him.

  They met up with the boisterous family as the McGraths spoke with Daniels at his office door.

  “Well?” Ed asked. “What’s going on, Doc?”

  Daniels held his hand aloft to calm everyone as much as possible but stared straight at Ed. “I would actually like to speak with you, Mr. McGrath, before we go any further.”

  Pushing forward, John Sr. raised his voice. “But I must know. Who matches my grandson?”

  “Only one person matches well in the second round of tests.”

  CHAPTER 65

  ROCHELLE’S JOINTS ACHED, HER feet were sore, and her heart was breaking, not only for Donna, but for her own dreams. She should move around, get the blood flowing. Clear her head. This was the McGrath family business, not hers, and there was a s
trangeness being here. But she had promised Ed she would stay for him.

  Growing antsier by the minute, she searched for a bit of fresh air. After exploring the corridor a few seconds, she pushed through a side door that led to the hospital gardens. Good. No signs of life. Dead grass and a few scattered leaves cluttered the brick walkway. When she walked past a small evergreen at the entrance, a glance toward the other side of the garden revealed a woman hunched over on one of the stone benches.

  Crying.

  Bad news, she’d learned from experience, wasn’t all that uncommon in a hospital.

  Rochelle stepped quietly to the woman’s side. Maybe she could offer comfort. She placed a hand on the trembling shoulder. Familiar eyes looked up.

  “Brooke Kirnan? What are you doing here?”

  Brooke’s shaky hand swiped at red eyes.

  Rochelle sat on the edge of the bench. “It’s Rochelle Cassidy. Do you remember me? We met a couple times at the clinic. You were scheduled to do some interviews for me while I was gone. Are you all right?”

  Tracks of moisture ran through Brooke’s makeup like rivulets through red clay. Brooke stared with a blank look that sent shivers skittering between Rochelle’s shoulders and down her spine. There was more here than tears; Brooke teetered on the edge.

  “Thursday, my day to do art work with the kids.” Her gaze never faltered but remained locked onto a marble statue of a deer a couple of feet to their left.

  “I didn’t know you drew.” Rochelle’s attempt at a smile failed.

  “It’s a hobby and a good one to help these kids. A lot of them draw to expose their feelings and if I can help … well, I love kids.” Just like one of those kids, she wiped her face on her sleeve this time, allowing Rochelle a glimpse of hopelessness.

  “Why are you crying?” Had one of the children she worked with passed away?

  Brooke hesitated, then fairly threw herself into Rochelle’s arms. “I know I heard the nurse speaking to Reinholdt and she said ‘it’s still moving’. My baby.”

  “You what?”

  “Can I be going crazy? I swear that’s what she said.” She bit down on her lip—hard.

  Rochelle gazed at Brooke beyond her heavy wool coat, head to toe for the first time; Brooke, besides being frightened and cold, appeared slimmer. “What are you talking about?” Rochelle grabbed Brooke’s shoulders.

  “I’m afraid it’s a long story.”

  Rochelle couldn’t stop her brow from gathering in a scowl. “I have time.”

  As the tale unfolded in clear detail, Brooke shook her head, couldn’t stop shaking it as if in doing so things would right themselves. She must have heard wrong, but no.

  Dead patches of flowers peeked through the snow and added to the frosty environment. Bitterness poured from Brooke and Rochelle shuddered.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “This is hard to take in. Brooke, are you absolutely sure you heard her say those exact words?” She shivered again and drew her coat closer. “Listen, drugs do a lot to our minds, especially when we’re upset. Your husband could be right.”

  Brooke snapped back with more than hurt, more than fear, with anger in her eyes. “He’s an idiot.” She hit a fist against her thigh, and her face contorted.

  Any other time Rochelle would have smiled at a wife’s sentiment, but today, the desperation in Brooke’s voice and the fearful look on her face stopped her from making light of the situation. “You’re angry and rightfully so. But I’m not sure how to help you.”

  “You bet I’m angry as a hornet. Bobby hasn’t supported me one bit. Not even my family. You are the only person who’s even listened to my story front to back without interrupting and making excuses for Reinholdt. It happened exactly as I told you and not … because of drugs.”

  Rochelle put her hand over Brooke’s and freed her fingers from the aggressive posture. “People are going to support you when you calm down enough to be believable.”

  While her heart remained inside with the McGraths, her head ticked off one possibility after another concerning Brooke and PhD. Ever since working at the station, she had learned to keep her composure in the toughest circumstances, and she called on that strong will now.

  “How can I calm down? My baby is out there somewhere.”

  “Have you considered an attorney? The clinic would have to provide documentation that might clear the whole mess up.”

  Brooke’s eyes sagged at the edges, the realization of Reinholdt’s power and position firmly entrenched in her words.

  “If they’re capable of lying about her birth, don’t you think they could fudge documents? He might be a monster, but he’s no idiot. That clinic has been running successfully for six years without a hint of scandal. I know. I’ve checked. So how does he do it?”

  #

  Ed crossed his arms and dug into his biceps. He knew he talked a good talk in front of the family, but could he walk the walk? “I’m the only match, then.”

  Dr. Daniels eased forward in the chair, his glasses clenched in his hand, emphasizing the situation every bit as much as his words. “Yes, you are. I understand career-wise this probably isn’t—”

  “Hold it right there.” Ed squeezed his arms harder, accepting the pain that reminded him he was alive and healthy in spite of the dire pronouncement. More alive than Cody at the moment. He shook his head and straightened. “What could be better? Wouldn’t I be the most likely match for success? I mean, I’m probably in the best shape with, perhaps, the exception of John. Don’t drink anymore. Never smoked. Who could score higher on the fitness scale, I ask you?”

  “You won’t get any arguments from me.”

  Ed surveyed the room and leaned forward with air rocketing from his chest. Without thinking, he grabbed a knickknack from the edge of Daniels’ desk.

  “I suppose my hockey season is over.” He fully expected the doctor to agree, the paperweight now a short missile flying from hand to hand. “I mean, there’s a lot of cutting involved, right?”

  “That’s a twenty-five-thousand-dollar antique blow pipe from the Amazon.” Dr. Daniels reached out protectively. “If you don’t mind.”

  Ed’s face warmed as he returned the relic to Daniels’ desk with care. “Sorry. The surgery could go south pretty quick, couldn’t it?”

  “You’re not like a roofing and siding project. As much as I’d like to, I can’t offer you guarantees. Your season could be over this very day. Your career could be over—period. Serious complications are possible. But let’s wait and talk about this after you’ve had the rest of your tests. I mean, if you wish to proceed.” Dr. Daniels’s face of uncertainty gripped and painted Ed into an unenviable corner.

  The end of his career. That was a possibility, a real possibility.

  Leaning on his fist, he bit into the skin on his knuckle.

  His career and Cody might not even survive the surgery.

  What would the old Ed have done? He didn’t have to think twice. He wouldn’t have agreed. And now?

  Now, the old Ed didn’t exist.

  “Of course, I want to go ahead right away.”

  CHAPTER 66

  SWEAT SPECKLED ERIK’S FOREHEAD.

  “Three days, and you still don’t know. Tessa, what went wrong with the boy?” He slammed Cody’s file on the desk and papers skittered over the floor like so many roaches running from a light. “I told you to call and find out! This is your fault.”

  “My fault again? I found out he needs a transplant. What more do you want?” Tessa avoided his scrutiny and that caused his face to warm even more.

  “I need to know everything. And, yes, your fault again. Everything that has happened is your fault.” How he’d like to strangle her. His finger tapped on her head repeatedly. “Before Ms. Cassidy returns to confer with me, I expect you to have all the information in my hand. She might ask about Cody. But we’ll do our own question and answer. Tessa, she is not to leave this office on Monday until you have every detail of that boy’s medi
cal condition. He was under our care and now he’s having a transplant. Mistakes do not just happen at our center.”

  Caroline Peters walked to the door as he shouted his last words. Caroline gaped in his direction while Tessa dashed from the room, pushing Caroline out of her way.

  Erik scowled. Caroline recoiled and placed a hand over her chest. He didn’t miss the reaction.

  “Is everything all right, Dr. Reinholdt? Can I get you anything?”

  “Mind your own business.” He slammed the door in her face.

  CHAPTER 67

  AFTER SETTLING IN FOR the night in her favorite fuzzy blue pj’s, allowing Ed’s decision to sink in, Rochelle picked up the book she’d been trying to read for the last couple weeks. She welcomed an interruption and was pleased when the phone rang. Ed.

  She winced at the sound of sacrifice woven into his words as she nestled the phone against her ear. “Your coach was disappointed then.”

  “Of course he was disappointed.” She pictured him shrugging a shoulder with hands splayed as she’d seen him do when he was unsure. “But I do know I’m ready for Daniels to schedule the surgeries. What other choice is there?”

  For a brief second in the hopeful corners of her mind, he held her close, protecting her for the rest of her life. But no. With all that had happened to Cody, the responsibility of a family would be the last thing on his to-do list now. They had both witnessed the pain John and Donna experienced and it would be too much for him to handle. His career, in spite of what he said to the contrary, ranked foremost in his thoughts and in his heart. She sensed that singular truth whenever they were together.

  “I think the bed’s calling my name. I’m exhausted, Ed. And you should be getting plenty of sleep, too. Not much longer and your body will be screaming for energy. Take advantage while you can.”

  “Could I ask you something first?”

  Her heart quickened. “Of course. What?”

  “Two things. One, could you go with me in the morning when Daniels explains the surgery? I’d pick you up around seven fifteen?”