Critical Condition

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Critical Condition Page 7

by Sandra Orchard


  He redirected his focus to Suzie as she scrambled up the ladder of the kiddie slide. “We got a look at the Parkers’ will. Mr. Parker had a sizable life-insurance policy. Since the Parkers had no children, they bequeathed their entire estate to the hospital.”

  “I told you Whittaker was behind this.”

  Zach had spent the weekend trailing Whittaker between the golf course, his home, and evening parties, and hadn’t seen a hint of anything suspicious. “We have no proof. We’ve already ruled out his thumbprint as a match.”

  Tara sank onto the bench beside him. “He could’ve worn gloves.”

  “The man had nothing to gain that we can see from the Parkers’ deaths. Not personally. And the donation to the hospital was hardly substantial enough to motivate him to risk his career, let alone his freedom.” Zach gripped the edge of the seat to resist the impulse to give Tara’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find the guy, Tara. I promise you.”

  Suzie skipped toward them and patted Zach’s knee. “You’re it,” she squealed, racing away.

  Zach chased after her, pretending to slip and slide around the playground equipment in a desperate attempt to catch her. At Tara’s sweet laughter, he changed course and tapped her arm. “You’re it.” He grinned and darted out of her reach.

  “Catch me. Catch me, Mommy.” Suzie bounced up and down on the platform above the slide.

  Tara scrambled up the ladder after her.

  Suzie zoomed down the slide and took him out at the bottom.

  “Here I come.” Tara charged down the slide after her little girl.

  Halfway to his feet, Zach caught Suzie and Tara in a giant bear hug. “Ha! I got you both.”

  “You’re not it,” Suzie protested.

  Tara tapped his shoulder. “Now he is.”

  Since his arms were occupied, he gave Suzie a peck on the forehead. “You’re it.”

  She patted him back. “You are. Kiss Mommy, kiss Mommy.”

  When Tara’s laughter-filled gaze met his, he couldn’t resist. He shifted Suzie to his hip and, curling his arm, pulled Tara to his other side. Time slowed. She smelled of sunshine and adventure. He lowered his head and she tried to squirm free. But deciding her attempts were more feigned than real, he brushed his lips softly against hers, lingering long enough to whisper, “You’re it.”

  Her lips stretched into a smile beneath his.

  Oh, wow. They stepped apart, and Tara looked as stunned as he felt.

  “Um...” She cast her gaze about the playground. “I’d better get Suzie home. It’s almost suppertime.”

  “I’ll give you a lift,” Zach said quickly, not ready to let her go. “I can put the buggy in the back.”

  “Yay!” Suzie raced for his truck before Tara had a chance to object.

  Zach grabbed the buggy while Tara gave chase. He’d been stupid to kiss her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  The short drive to the house was uncomfortably quiet. Excited as she’d been, Suzie drifted to sleep the moment the truck started moving.

  Tara felt Suzie’s forehead. “She must be coming down with something.”

  “You unlock the house and I’ll carry her in for you.” As Zach backed out of the rear of the cab with Suzie in his arms, Tara gasped.

  “Put her back inside the truck,” she hissed.

  A dark-haired man in black jeans and a black polo shirt stepped into view.

  “Do you know this man?”

  “Yes, he’s my ex. Put Suzie back in the truck. Please.” She met the guy halfway up the walk.

  Zach did as Tara asked.

  The guy stuffed a pen and paper into his jacket pocket. “Tara, good to see you. I was just going to leave you a note.”

  Tara visibly stiffened.

  Zach strode to her side. “May I help you?”

  The man was clean-shaven, a shade gaunt, but not bad-looking. He snubbed his nose at Zach’s question and returned his attention to Tara. “Who’s the bodyguard?”

  “He’s just a friend.”

  The title stung. As much as he knew he shouldn’t be thinking it, that kiss had made him wish they’d moved beyond friendship, had made him think that he might be ready to move on from Carole’s death.

  “Zach, this is Earl.”

  Zach shook the man’s hand with an extra-firm grip, then dug his fists into his pockets. The other night, she’d made it sound as though her ex was out of the picture. Clearly, he wasn’t.

  Earl’s gaze skimmed Tara’s body with obvious appreciation. “You’re looking good. Still running, I see.”

  “What do you want?”

  His hands shot up, all innocence. “Hey, can’t a man visit his wife and kid?”

  “Ex-wife. And since when do you care about our daughter?”

  Earl’s gaze cut to Zach, as if to say his reasons were private.

  Zach backed toward the truck. “Maybe I should go,” he said, although he had no intention of leaving this dirtbag alone with Tara.

  “No need. Earl’s not staying.”

  “Just give me five minutes,” Earl pleaded. “Five minutes.”

  Tara nodded to Zach to give them a moment alone. Her gaze shifted nervously toward Suzie, before she led her ex inside.

  Reluctantly, Zach retreated to the truck, where he whipped out his phone and dialed Rick. “I need you to do a background check on Earl Peterson.”

  “Tara’s ex?”

  “Yeah, he showed up unannounced at her house.” Zach noticed an overturned flowerpot and a dent in the flower bed where a rock or something had recently sat. “Looks like he tried to get in.”

  A neighbor in the next yard eyed Zach curiously.

  He cupped his hand around the phone so he couldn’t be overheard. “Tara hasn’t seen this guy in three years. Why’s he suddenly back in town? I don’t like it.”

  “Okay. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Pocketing his phone, Zach scanned the street. No car sat parked at the curb. Clearly, Earl hadn’t wanted her to see him coming. What might he have done if he’d found Tara at home?

  Through the living-room window, Zach saw Earl carry a ladder out of the kitchen and follow Tara down the hall toward the bedrooms. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. But clearly Tara didn’t want Earl seeing Suzie, and Zach wasn’t about to leave the little girl alone in the truck.

  A few minutes later, Zach spotted Earl and Tara heading toward the front door.

  Zach met them at the porch.

  “Did you want to meet Suzie before you go?” Tara asked her ex, although the offer sounded forced.

  Earl slanted a wistful glance toward the truck. “That’s okay, it’ll only confuse the kid.” He held up the shoe box he’d apparently come for. “See you around.”

  Zach cringed at the suggestion. The first thing he planned to do when he left here tonight was buy new locks for Tara’s doors. He waited until Earl had sauntered down the street before scooping Suzie from the backseat and rejoining Tara on the porch. “What did he want?”

  “Some stuff he’d stored in the attic. I didn’t even know it was there.”

  Suspicions needled the back of Zach’s neck. “What kind of stuff?”

  “Nothing important.” Waving off his concern, she moved inside. “His old baseball cards and comic books. He lost his job and hopes to cash in on the collection.”

  The thought of her ex nosing around here for something to hock rankled. “Did you change the locks after your divorce?”

  “Yes.”

  “Glad to hear it. Do you mind if I check the attic? Make sure he didn’t leave anything behind?”

  “What do you mean?” Her eyes widened. “You mean like spy equipment?”

  Yeah. But he just shrugged.

>   “You think Earl’s the one who poisoned—?” Her voice edged higher.

  “No. He would’ve been noticed.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Maybe he wants his daughter back.”

  “He didn’t even want to see her!” Tara reached for Suzie, and as she clutched the sleeping child to her chest, something inside him shifted.

  “I’m sorry, Tara. It’s just a precaution.” Although Zach hadn’t missed the hint of yearning in Earl’s glance toward Suzie.

  Tara let out a weary sigh and headed toward Suzie’s room. “Do whatever you need to do.”

  Standing atop the ladder, Zach scanned the attic with his penlight. Aside from the flattened place where the shoe box must have sat, none of the insulation appeared disturbed. He slipped out to his truck for his fingerprint kit, and then dusted the ladder and the attic hatch. He doubted Earl’s thumbprint would match the one lifted from Tara’s lunch container, but having Earl’s prints on file might prove useful.

  Because Zach had a bad feeling they hadn’t seen the last of the man.

  SIX

  Still running, I see. Her ex-husband’s pointed remark replayed in Tara’s mind as she ran through the rain from the parking lot to the hospital. She stopped under the awning and shook the water from her jacket. Why wouldn’t he get out of her head?

  Still running.

  As if she had much choice, with a daughter to raise alone. Not that that’s what he’d meant. But after nursing Suzie through a high fever most of the night and then racing around this morning to make alternative child-care arrangements, she felt as though she hadn’t stopped running since that magical moment Zach had caught her at the bottom of the slide.

  Her fingers went to her lips as the memory of his kiss washed over her anew. He’d tasted minty fresh, like sunshine after a storm.

  Stop thinking about him.

  She headed for the nurses’ locker room. As soon as they solved the Parkers’ murders, Zach would leave. Dreaming about more kisses was pointless. And if that weren’t reason enough to ignore the silly flutter in her chest every time she thought about him, seeing Earl should have been. Once upon a time, his kisses had tilted her world, too.

  But the final kiss-off had left it permanently out of whack.

  She threw her purse into her locker and slammed the door. The metal clattered.

  Of course, unlike Zach, Earl didn’t adore children and had zero tolerance for their messes. And not once had he come to her defense, not even when Mom or one of her sisters had ragged on her. Whereas Zach seemed to be protecting her at every turn. He must have even bullied Detective Gray into sending extra patrols past the house. She’d counted no less than four pass by between midnight and three, when Suzie’s fever finally broke.

  As much as Tara wanted to never depend on a guy again, she had to admit that having someone look out for her for a change felt kind of nice.

  Distracted by her thoughts, Tara almost plowed into Kim outside the locker room. “Kim, what are you doing here?”

  They’d rekindled their childhood friendship when Kim’s father was hospitalized earlier in the year. But since her engagement, the youth worker had been busy planning her wedding and helping her fiancé take over her father’s role as director of Hope Manor.

  “I had to escort a resident from the detention center for some tests and wanted to pop down to say hi. I’m afraid that I’ve been neglecting my friends.”

  “Well, it’s not every day a girl gets married, so I forgive you.”

  Kim squealed. “Can you believe it? Only seven more weeks.”

  Tara squeezed Kim’s hand. “I’m so happy for you. Do you have time for a coffee? My shift doesn’t start for a few minutes yet.”

  “Sure, my partner can handle the resident’s supervision alone for a bit longer.”

  Tara led the way to the staff lounge. As she passed staff she hadn’t seen since the poisoned-lunch incident, her stomach tightened. Zach had said to act as if nothing had happened, as if she’d just been off with the flu. But their curious stares made her skin prickle and her legs turn wooden.

  She ducked into the lounge and came face-to-face with Dr. Whittaker.

  Instinctively, she recoiled. If Kim hadn’t been behind her, who knew what she would’ve said or done next?

  He wore a flattering purple shirt and tie with a stethoscope draped around his neck. When he flashed his usual, charming smile, he looked like a movie star.

  Tara sidestepped past him. “Good morning.”

  “Good to see you back with us,” he said. But his undertone held an unmistakable warning—keep quiet. He gulped back the last of his coffee, gave Kim an acknowledging nod and strode from the room.

  “Is it just me, or did he seem kind of...not so happy to see you?” Kim asked.

  Tara yearned to confide in her friend, but recalling Zach’s warning, she shrugged off the question and poured them each a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll have mine black,” Kim said.

  Rather than risk ingesting anything from the staff fridge, Tara took hers black, too.

  Zach popped his head in the door. “Hey, everything okay?”

  His warm smile chased away the chill Whittaker had left in his wake. Kim’s surprised gaze ping-ponged from Zach to Tara, and settled back on Zach with a recognition that made Tara’s heart plummet.

  If Kim knew he was a cop, she could blow his cover.

  “I was wondering when I’d—?” Kim started to say, but stopped abruptly when Zach’s fellow IT consultant appeared at the door.

  Zach flashed Kim an almost imperceptible signal of appreciation.

  Oh, yeah, they knew each other.

  “You working or not?” Barb, the IT specialist griped, sounding only half teasing.

  “I’ll be right there. Just grabbing a coffee.” Zach reached for the pot and whispered to Tara, “Let’s have lunch.”

  She glanced from Kim to the now-empty doorway and lowered her voice to a matching whisper. “Are you sure you want to be seen with me? Might make the killer suspicious of you.”

  Zach gave her a quirky grin and shook his head. “I’m just a lonely IT consultant hitting on the best-looking nurse in the hospital.”

  Her stomach did a little flip. Since Zach had come to town, it had been getting a steady workout. He was just watching out for her, she reminded herself.

  He gave her hand a gentle tap. “I’ll see you later.” As he left, he winked at Kim.

  The instant he was gone, Kim’s attention swung to Tara. “How well do you know Zach?”

  “Uh...” Tara sipped her coffee to give her stalled brain a second to figure out what to say. What if she was wrong about Kim knowing Zach was a cop? She couldn’t risk blowing his cover. “I just met him last week. Why?”

  Kim buffed an invisible spot on the counter.

  Tara waited silently, pretty sure she wouldn’t want to hear whatever Kim had to say. And not sure why.

  “It’s just that the two of you seem to be hitting it off,” she finally said in an awkward falsetto.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.” She tugged at her ponytail, studied her shoes. “I’m not quite sure how to say this, but I feel like I should warn you. About Zach.”

  * * *

  As Zach finished testing Dr. Whittaker’s office computer, he caught sight of Kim leading a young man in shackles out of the building. Good thing Rick had had the foresight to advise her that Zach was in town undercover. One potential disaster averted.

  He hoped he hadn’t left another one behind him. Kim had seemed fine when he’d broken things off with her last year after a few dates, but...

  Maybe he was better off not thinking what the two women might be discussing now.r />
  Zach pulled his pass card from the computer hub and rose to see if Tara was ready to go for lunch.

  His phone on his hip caught the edge of the desk blotter. As he straightened the blotter, he noticed the corner of a note page that had been tucked inside. It was a list of names, and Ellen Clark—their most recent alleged victim—was one of them. He didn’t recognize any of the other names, but his gut told him this was big. Really big.

  He jotted the names into his notepad. His cell phone vibrated.

  Glancing at the closed door, he picked up.

  “I’ve got an answer for you on Tara’s ex,” Rick said. “His neighbor confirmed that Peterson’s been out of work for a few months. He does a lot of buying and selling on eBay.”

  “Makes you wonder where he gets the stuff he’s selling.”

  “Last night I found baseball cards up for auction. So the story he gave Tara seems to check out.”

  “And his prints don’t match the one on the lunch container?”

  “Nope. You really didn’t think he was connected to the case, did you?”

  “No, but I still don’t like it. If he’s that desperate for money, what else might he come after?”

  “The best we can do is advise her to be careful.”

  Yeah. Except that wasn’t good enough. Not by a long shot. Jerk ex-husbands knew their wives well enough to get around their defenses. Look how easily Earl had convinced Tara to let him inside the house.

  Zach pocketed his phone and headed to the nurse’s station.

  Tara stood divvying meds into tiny plastic cups. She leaned forward, and her thick chestnut hair fell over her eyes.

  Something went warm and soft inside him. He remembered how he used to tease his wife about her hair doing that. He didn’t want to remember how she’d smile back, knowing he’d tuck the wayward locks behind her ear and steal a kiss. But he did remember. Then he thought of the kiss he’d stolen from Tara in the playground.

  Her gaze lifted, those big, doe-brown eyes, so like Carole’s, smiling up at him.

  Reflexively, his hand reached for her hair. She tensed, and his good senses kicked in. He snapped his hand back to his side.

 

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