“Baby, I can’t handle the tears.” He pulled her close, catching the tears streaming down her cheeks with the pads of his thumb. “I promise you, the memories will slowly fade. Just give it time. I’ll do whatever I can to shield you from ever having to go through anything like this again.”
Her tears fell faster. Apparently, his words were having the opposite affect that he was going for.
“You saved my life.” She reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing against the light stubble on his jaw. “I will forever be grateful for what you did for me. Thank you.”
At that moment, he felt that he would walk on water for her if he had to. Shit. This is not good. Every second he spent with her another layer of resistance fell from around his heart.
“I hope you’re going to be okay with this.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and guided her toward the door. “Tonight, you’re going home with me.”
Chapter Eleven
Malik pulled his truck into the three-car garage. Natasha vaguely remembered the long ride. All she could think about was the nightmare of an evening she’d just experienced. Each time she closed her eyes, she heard the glass shattering, the screams in the café, including her own. And then there was the hole in Dr. Halsey’s forehead; the memory forever engrained in her mind.
Natasha wrapped her arms around herself. On top of reliving the nightmare from two hours ago, thoughts of going home with a man she barely knew made her just as uncomfortable. What was I thinking? Truth be told, she hadn’t been thinking. All she knew is that she didn’t want to go home, nor did she want to be alone.
Malik ran his hand up and down her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay and don’t need me to take you to the hospital?”
She appreciated his concern, wondering if he’d forgotten she was a doctor. Except for the ache in her right side from when Malik yanked her to the floor, physically she was fine. Her mental state was another story. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right.”
“Okay, but just say the word if you change your mind.”
The moment Malik climbed out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side Natasha heard loud barking.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” she said.
“Yeah, a Rottweiler. His name is Tank. How do you feel about dogs?”
“I like dogs. I didn’t picture you as having one, though.”
Natasha followed behind Malik as he climbed the two concrete steps inside the garage that led into the house.
“Hey boy,” Malik greeted an excited Tank, who was more interested in sniffing Natasha.
“Good evening, Malik,” his alarm system’s sultry voice chimed when he deactivated the code.
“Hi Darla. Code one.”
“Roger that,” the alarm system responded.
“Your alarm system talks to you. Impressive. So instead of coming home to a wife, you come home to Darla.”
A grin slid across his full lips as he ushered her into the mudroom. “I usually try out some of the security systems before we offer them to clients. Darla here is our most recent unit, ideal for people who live alone and who might want someone to welcome them home when they arrive.”
“I see.” She rubbed Tank’s short fur and the dog leaned into her, enjoying the attention. “It’s nice to meet you, Tank.” He barked, as if understanding her words.
“Come on in.” Malik moved around the kitchen and then the family room, turning on more lights. “Tank. Go.” He snapped his finger and pointed to a designated spot in the family room. “He likes you. At the rate you were going, showing him all that love, he’d be following you around like a shadow.”
“Do you live here alone?”
Malik frowned. “Yeah, why?”
She took in all of the maple wood, custom kitchen cabinets, granite countertops, and the state of the art stainless steel appliances. The whole first floor of her house could fit inside the kitchen. It was a cook’s paradise. “This place is huge. Why so much space?” she asked, strolling into the family room. She loved the arched openings, and the impressive crown molding throughout the room captured her attention.
“I’m a large man,” he said from the kitchen. “I like everything big.” She turned back and watched as he rinsed his hands in the sink and dried them before opening the refrigerator. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“Do you have tea?” she asked, her energy starting to wane. She sat at the breakfast bar, her elbow on the counter and her chin in her hand.
“Yeah, actually I do.” He reached into the pantry. “What kind do you like?” he asked, displaying a container, housing a variety of tea packets.
Natasha arched an eyebrow, deciding on the one she wanted. “You don’t seem like a tea drinker. Why the big selection?”
“My mother visits often. She’s a big tea drinker.” He stood on the other side of the breakfast bar, staring down at her. “You look exhausted. Why don’t I show you to the guest room and you can shower and try to relax.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m not ready to close my eyes again. The images …” She stopped, not wanting to think about the last couple of hours. She had pulled plenty of all-nighters during her residency, staying awake for a couple of days straight. She could do it again. However, the yawn that had her eyes watering said otherwise.
“This is what we’re going to do.” Malik reached for her hand and pulled her off the barstool. “I’m going to show you to your room. While you shower, I’ll find something for you to sleep in. By the time you’re refreshed, I’ll have a drink prepared for you that will be a tad bit stronger than tea and will help you relax.”
Natasha leaned into him when he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I guess you have all the answers.” It had been a long time since anyone took care of her. She realized she liked it.
Before they made it to the stairs, Malik’s cell phone rang. Considering it was well after one in the morning, she hoped it wasn’t any bad news or some woman making a booty call.
A half an hour later, they lounged in Malik’s family room, with Tank, the traitor, who now sat at Natasha’s feet. Malik had never invited a woman to spend the night. Normally he’d take her to a hotel or spend time at her place. Yet, bringing Natasha home seemed like the most natural thing to do.
He sat facing her on the other end of the sofa. Bringing his beer bottle to his lips, he allowed his gaze to travel down her body. Malik couldn’t ever remember being so turned on by a woman in a man’s T-shirt. The shirt he’d given her to sleep in skimmed over her curvaceous figure, tempting him so much that he had to put some distance between them to ensure he kept his hands to himself.
Her smooth shapely legs, which he longed to run his hands over, were curled beneath her and her hands wrapped securely around a coffee mug. Instead of a simple hot cup of tea, Malik prepared her a hot toddy; a whiskey, cinnamon, and honey concoction. She yawned for the second time in five minutes and he knew he only had a small window of opportunity to get some answers from her.
“You and Dr. Halsey were in a pretty heated conversation tonight. Care to share what you two were discussing?”
Narrowed eyes zoned in on him. “You don’t think I had anything to do with his death, do you?”
Malik frowned. “Of course not. Why would you even asked that?”
Some of the worry lines slowly left her face and she stared down into her cup. “The cops questioned me as if I were a suspect, like I could set anyone up like that.”
Anger stirred inside Malik. The police might have been doing their job, but he didn’t like it.
Malik slid closer to her. Compassion wasn’t one of his strengths, but she looked as though she was going to fall apart. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle more tears, especially hers.
“You having anything to do with the doctor’s death never crossed my mind.”
She glanced down at Tank, who was looking back and forth between her and Malik, as if waiting to see what would happened next. Malik had no idea wha
t she was thinking, but the tension radiating off her spoke volumes.
“Tasha, I hope you know that you can trust me. Whatever you two were discussing might have something to do with why Halsey’s dead now. Why don’t we talk about it? Besides, it’ll make you feel better to get whatever’s bothering you off your chest.” Natasha turned to him, tears filling her eyes.
Oh damn. He sat his beer down on an end table and went to the half bath for the box of Kleenex.
“I don’t know who killed him,” she said when he handed her a few sheets of tissue, her voice barely a whisper, “but I know why he’s dead.”
Natasha felt Malik stiffen next to her, his intense dark eyes growing darker. He sat studying her for the longest time. She wished he would say something. Anything. Every nerve ending in her body was slowly starting to fray. She couldn’t handle the silence. She needed to talk to someone. Someone outside of the hospital. Someone she could trust. Since Alandra, her confidant, wasn’t there, she’d have to take a chance on Malik.
“If you know anything,” Malik’s voice dropped an octave, “and I mean anything about why he might be dead, you need to tell me. Your life could be in danger.”
Her hand clenched around the mug and Malik eased it from her grasp. “No. I … I have no association with him. All I know is that he is … well, he was a respected doctor at the hospital.”
“I have a feeling you know more than what you’re saying. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
The warmth flowing through her body from the drink Malik had given her—along with the cozy room they were sitting in, with its dark woods and overstuffed furniture—no longer provided her with peace. She swallowed hard trying to decide what to tell him. She had known Malik would question her about her conversation with Bob. She was surprised he hadn’t asked earlier.
“I could lose my job,” she fidgeted with her hands, “but I have to tell someone. Please, you have to promise me that you won’t say anything.”
He grasped her hand. “If you’re in trouble or in danger, you have to tell me. As for not telling anyone, I think you know me well enough to know that if I have to say anything to anybody, it won’t be anyone but Wiz. And the only reason I would confide in him is if we needed his help.”
Natasha studied him. His strong jaw and the serious look on his face reminded her of when they all sat around Quinn’s kitchen, before he and Alandra prepared to leave the country. If Quinn and Alandra trusted him, then she would, too.
She sucked in a long breath and released it slowly. “Dr. Halsey is … or was under investigation for killing new mothers.” Natasha glanced at Malik, whose expression didn’t change. “Tonight he pretty much admitted to it, claiming that he didn’t have a choice because he was being blackmailed.”
“By who? Did he say who was blackmailing him?”
Natasha shook her head. “No, not exactly. He said a few years ago some lawyer helped him get a fake medical license.”
“He was practicing medicine without a legitimate license?” Malik asked, his tone remaining neutral. Natasha had no idea how he could sit there so calm, no reaction, just questions.
She nodded. “And from what Dr. Halsey said, this lawyer contacted him later about doing some work for him. At first Dr. Halsey was totally against the idea.”
“What type of work?”
“I assume taking the lives of these new mothers.”
Malik shrugged. “Why? I don’t understand. Why would this lawyer want these mothers dead? It doesn’t make sense.”
“To steal their babies.”
Malik looked confused. She saw a flash in his eyes. Understanding. Anger. A lethalness he’d never shown before.
“Dr. Halsey said that this lawyer is connected to an adoption agency.”
“Which one?” he asked.
She uncoiled her legs, placed her feet on the floor, and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “With everything that’s happened … I can’t remember the name of the agency.” Misery floundered in the pit of her stomach like granite rocks, crashing against the inside of her body. One of the most important pieces of the puzzle and she couldn’t remember.
He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said, the shell-shocked look in his eyes growing deeper. “You’ll remember.”
She took a deep breath and sat back against the sofa, willing herself to be strong. “What I do know is the agency he mentioned isn’t familiar to me. Tomorrow I’ll check our list of the agencies the hospital is affiliated with to see if any trigger my memory.”
Malik stood and ran his hand over his baldhead, his back toward her. “I can’t believe that someone is fucking stealing babies,” he said, incredulous. A few other choice words rolled off his tongue. Suddenly, he turned to face her. “Does the hospital know how long this shit’s been going on?”
Natasha cringed each time he cursed. It wasn’t so much the words he chose, it was the way he said them with enough venom to strike a person down. He had told her he’d been working on cleaning up his language, but apparently he still had work to do.
“We’re not sure. The hospital has been investigating. The administrators and the legal department have been reviewing all of his files, patient’s charts, everything, for the past couple of weeks. Dr. Halsey was on vacation. No one could reach him. That is … until tonight.”
Malik paced in front of her like a Tyrannosaurus Rex lumbering the earth, moving powerfully from one side of the family room to the other and back. “This explains your reaction to my question at dinner that one night, when I told you about my friend who died giving birth … and I asked about how things are handled with orphans.” He continued to pace, talking under his breath; his colorful vocabulary getting raunchier with each word out of his mouth. He stopped abruptly, turning to her with his jaw clenched and a dangerous glint in his eyes. “We have to find out what happened to those babies.”
Malik carried a sleeping Natasha up the stairs to the guest room. Normally it was just him and Tank in the four bedroom, three bathroom colonial, but he had to admit, despite the circumstances it was nice having her there.
She snuggled closer, her head against his chest, her body molded against his. The fresh smell of soap mixed with her natural scent wafted around him, sending his libido into overdrive. He was tempted to carry her to his bed, but had promised himself that he would keep his hands to himself. The next time they shared a bed, he wanted it to be intentional, and not a one-nighter.He kissed her forehead and stared down into her angelic face, recalling their conversation from earlier. He hoped like hell that she had told him everything. There was nothing worse than going into a situation with only half the intel.
His cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket and he reluctantly laid her in the bed, waiting to answer the call until he was in the hallway.
“Yeah?”
“Is she okay?” Wiz asked.
Malik stood in the doorway to Natasha’s room, watching her. “She’s a little shaken, but she’s holding up good. So what did you find out?”
“The area across the street from the café was clean. No brass or anything else was left behind, but that was no surprise considering we’re dealing with a professional. I did find a witness, though.”
“Oh yeah? Please tell me he was able to give a description of the person.”
“Not exactly. He said a black man practically knocked him down when he was leaving the apartment building across from the café. Said the guy had a long duffle bag and was about my size. No real description of the perp, except that he wore all black, including a wool hat pulled low, almost hiding his eyes.”
Malik cursed under his breath.
“He did get a look at the getaway vehicle. He said there was some white lettering on the side of the black van that the guy sped away in.”
This got Malik’s attention.
“He said the same thing as you. Something was covering the lettering, but he said that he was able to see a few letters … d,
y, man. He said the van was a dark color, but he didn’t know if it were black or blue.”
“Well, at least that’s something. My first guess would be that the word spelled handyman, but it doesn’t help much.”
“Did Natasha tell you what she and the doc discussed?” Wiz asked.
Malik shared the information that Natasha had given him. He wasn’t sure where to start searching for answers, but he knew Wiz would know. “I have a feeling that Susan might have been one of the doctor’s victims.”
Wiz blew out a long whistle. “That’s some crazy shit.”
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we need to handle this with as much discretion and under the radar as possible.”
“Definitely. At least this gives me something to work with. Let’s hook up later tomorrow. I’ll give you all of the information I have on Dr. Halsey. And based on what Natasha told you, I’m sure we both agree that there’s a huge possibility the car bombing is related to this incident.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
“I have a contact at the hospital. I’ll see if I can get a copy of the video of the employee parking lot from that night. Maybe it’ll give us some clues. We’re also going to need to go and see Rosalyn. Maybe there’s something in Susan’s journal that can help us piece more of the situation together.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Let’s see if we can meet up with her tomorrow.”
“One more thing,” Wiz said. “How do you feel knowing that this doctor might’ve killed Susan, and whoever he’s working with might have sold her baby? Possibly your child.”
“Dammit, Wiz!” Malik growled. Turning away from Natasha’s doorway, he went into his bedroom. “How many fuckin’ times I gotta tell you? The kid is not mine!”
Chapter Twelve
Truth or Consequences Page 12