by Bonnie Vanak
She was definitely caring too much. Maybe even falling in love with him.
The thought startled her into almost letting her wineglass tilt. Love wasn’t on the agenda. Career came first, and her own family and their expectations.
Kyle was the last person she’d anticipated claiming her heart. On the surface, they had nothing in common. Yet she realized their differences provided a balance that could layer a firm foundation to a serious relationship. He was gruff and brisk, she was soft and understanding. Kyle helped her to see beyond her family’s expectations to steal a peek at her future, a future where she could not only be fulfilled, but happy.
He encouraged her to be independent and face her deep fears about rejection from her family. Kyle was right. If her family truly loved her, and she knew they did, they wouldn’t shun her for disappointing them.
Kyle had taught her much in the short time she’d known him. In turn she wanted to help him through the aching pain and grief he’d refused to surrender to after his daughter died. Let him know it was healthy to finally let it go.
Even though the chemistry between them sparked, it could never work out. The job came first with him, and she’d take a backseat to his career. She wasn’t the type of woman to sit around pining for her man while he saved the world. Not when she herself could do some saving.
Seeing her, Kyle shot her a smile that lit her up inside, warmed her where she had been ice-cold.
Belle threaded through the crowd. Tempted to hug him tight, she nodded instead. “Agent Anderson,” she said in her best hostess voice, “so good of you to come. Is your partner accommodating you?”
“Thanks. Roarke is in the garden.”
He and Roarke had been present at the service. Kyle had texted her yesterday that they would attend the funeral to survey the attendees for any suspicious behavior, but still, Kyle’s presence filled her with a small, secret joy. When she saw him, her heart beat faster in a way that had nothing to do with the recent tragedy.
Silly of her. He had a job to do, and little time for a social life. He wore his badge clipped to his suit jacket usually. Today it hung on his belt, tucked away discreetly.
She’d been deprived of male company for so long and decent, engaging conversation with the opposite sex that it wasn’t surprising her hormones leaped every time Kyle was around. Yet it wasn’t his hot body or his good looks.
He cared. He might have a barbed-wire exterior, but inside beat the heart of a man who would risk all to save an endangered child.
“Is there anything you need? I can make introductions if you wish,” she asked. She lowered her voice. “I do understand if you and your partner wish to remain in the background because you’re here in a professional manner.”
Kyle took her hand. Such a simple gesture, yet it seemed much more. His touch was light as his grip. If she wanted to pull away, it was easy enough to do so, unlike Evan’s viselike pressure. “We do. But I also came to see how you are, Belle.”
His eyes were so very blue, and they caressed her in a long, lingering stroke. Evan’s scrutiny made her uncomfortable. This man’s masculine interest made her blood run hot.
Belle bit her lip. “Thank you. I’m fine.”
He said nothing, only studied her. She sighed. “I’m not, but I’m holding it together. I don’t have a choice.”
Warmth filled her as he stroked a thumb over the back of her hand, his expression filled with concern. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Belle North. Strong and capable. But even the strong need a rest once in a while.”
Unlike Evan’s hollow compliments, this praise sounded sincere. Coming from a man who prized professionalism, it meant a great deal.
“I’ll be all right. Later, I have a hot date with a bottle of chilled white wine and maybe a pizza.”
His mouth twitched upward. “I still owe you a dinner for burning your spaghetti sauce.”
“Deal,” she said lightly, alarmed at how the promise in those words made her heart skip a happy beat.
They walked to a quiet corner near one of her mother’s prized Chinese vases. “Do you have any suspects? Or any additional information about Anna?”
“No.” He glanced around the room. “Are most of these people your family’s friends or friends of Patterson?”
“Both. His parents are here as well, but you’ve already met them.” She wondered what they could divine from this reception. “Do you truly believe the killer could be here?”
“Perhaps,” Kyle murmured. “Often criminals put themselves into the investigation, acting as if they wish to help. Sometimes it’s to throw law enforcement off the track, sometimes it’s the thrill. This reception is a good place to circulate and observe any odd behaviors. Has anyone asked you any direct questions about Patterson’s death?”
“My brother.” Realizing how suspicious that sounded, she hastened to add, “Clint knows Mike was murdered and he hasn’t said anything. He’s as eager to catch whoever did this as he is to find Anna.”
Both Kyle and Roarke had extensively questioned her brother shortly after Mike’s body was found. Clint had been too shaken to be of much use.
He’d admitted that Mike had acted suspicious and when pressed, Mike only said he had some money troubles.
“Did you ever find out how much money Mike owed?” she asked.
Kyle’s gaze sharpened. “Clint finally told us Mike said he owed more than two hundred thousand.”
More shocks. Belle’s stomach roiled. The foundation had paid Mike a handsome salary to run the clinic, but gambling debts could mount quickly. “Owed to whom?”
He searched her expression. “Everyone, it seemed. He maxed out his credit cards and there’s a matter of an infusion of cash into his bank account we can’t quite trace. It came from an overseas account.”
“A loan shark?”
“Maybe. Your brother said Mike came to him asking for a year’s advance on his salary, and he couldn’t do it under the foundation rules. He offered to give Mike a fifty-thousand-dollar loan. Mike took twenty-five thousand and said he’d be in touch about the other half. A few days later, he called Clint and said he’d found another way to settle things. He was coming into some money.”
Her skin began to itch, a sure sign that her instincts warned Mike had stumbled onto something shady. “When was this phone call?”
“December 16.”
“It wasn’t a Christmas gift.” Belle bit her lip and set down her champagne before she spilled it. “December 17 was the first time stamp on the photos.”
“Yes. It’s obvious someone paid Dr. Patterson to secretly record girls in the clinic.” Kyle frowned and rubbed his jaw, as if thinking hard. “What we can’t figure out is if whoever is behind Anna’s kidnapping wanted to abduct girls for sex trafficking or to send overseas, why only take one girl?”
“It could have been the start of something,” she pointed out. “If Anna hadn’t warned me she was in danger, who would have missed her? She was living on the fringes of society with her mother. They had no real friends or neighbors. The tent was paid for so when they left the campground, the park rangers wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong until they came to clean up the grounds and saw all the clothing. And by then, the kidnapper would have removed all the evidence.”
“Would have, except for your intervention. By your alerting me, you helped to spotlight what was going on. I don’t think I ever thanked you.”
His deep voice sent a shiver rushing down her spine. “I did what any responsible citizen would do.”
“Sadly, no. Some wouldn’t want to get involved.” He took her hand again and leaned close.
“I’m glad I did,” she told him softly.
“So am I.” He stared at her mouth as if he longed to kiss her. She wanted the same thing.
And then she saw her mother approach, and she realized wher
e they were. Mortified, she backed away.
Shirley held out her hand. Kyle shook it.
“Thank you for attending, Agent Anderson. If there is anything my husband and I can do for the FBI, please let us know. Anything.”
With a nod at her, Shirley Vandermeer North walked away.
Her mother’s attitude surprised Belle. “You made a good impression. My mother is usually not so friendly with, ah, people she considers public servants.” She gave a little laugh. “I used to envision her breathing fire at civil servants if they failed to do what she wished. I used to feel sorry for whoever had to deal with her at the driver’s license bureau.”
Kyle studied the room. “Your mother isn’t the ogre you think she is, Belle. She does care.”
Odd remark. Clearly he knew something she did not. But this wasn’t the place for such discourse. “Mom does want Anna found. But probably more to clear our family name.”
“Maybe. There’s something that bothers me about this case,” he mused. “Why Anna? She’s pretty, but there are other girls who are prettier, and younger. They would fetch a great deal on the black market. If that was the kidnapper’s intent.”
Kyle’s cell phone rang. He answered in a terse voice, “Anderson.”
Belle’s heart dropped to her stomach at his tight expression.
“No, stay where you are. I’ll head over there now.” He hung up, drew in a breath.
“What happened?”
“Rosa’s awake. And she’s talking.”
Chapter 17
He hated hospitals. Part of the job, interviewing witnesses and medical professionals, but he had never liked it, even before Kasey died.
Elevator doors opened with a whoosh, and he walked onto the ICU floor, Belle at his side. Funny how having her with him lowered his blood pressure. She’d insisted on accompanying him.
Kyle glanced at her. She was sexy as hell and smart, but yeah, her calm demeanor settled his raw nerves. Belle wasn’t afraid of hospitals. This was her turf, her world, and she navigated it well.
Downstairs, he’d flashed his badge to the bored receptionist, but it was Belle who asked the questions, ordering the receptionist to get the charge nurse to meet them outside Rosa’s room. She did it with cool efficiency and professionalism. He admired her take-charge attitude. No sweat on her forehead.
Him? Perspiration ran down his back as if he’d done an hour session at the gym, gluing his shirt to his skin.
An officer greeted him in the hallway. “We have a twenty-four-hour guard on her. I called your partner soon as I heard the news.”
He thanked the deputy. “Good job.”
Outside Rosa’s ICU room, a petite redhead in blue scrubs greeted them. “I’m Candy, the charge nurse. You have ten minutes with her. She’s been drifting in and out of consciousness and we won’t risk upsetting her and increasing her blood pressure.”
“Thank you, Candy. I’m Dr. North, one of the cardiologists on this case working with the FBI. May I see her chart?”
Candy went to get the chart. Kyle raised his brows. “Now you’re a cardiologist?”
She shrugged. “If it gets us in there quicker and lowers her worry about Rosa’s heart. I do work for a well-known cardiology practice. The night shift is working now, so we shouldn’t have to worry about her physician interfering.”
“Good.” He ran a hand through his hair, realized what he was doing and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
In his right pocket, he touched the silver coin he always carried. Touching it grounded him in reality, reminded him he had a job to do.
Candy rolled over a computer stand with a laptop attached to it. Belle thanked her and scanned the screen, asking Candy questions. He peered through the glass door at Rosa. Damn, he knew she wouldn’t be sitting up and animated, but when the deputy phoned that she was awake, he’d hoped for better than this.
She opened the door to the room and she and Kyle approached Rosa’s bedside.
Beeping machines were hooked up to the woman and tubes snaked out of her. His gorge rose and he forced it down, concentrating on Rosa’s pale face.
“She’s not intubated anymore, so she can talk, but it won’t be easy,” Belle warned. “Her throat will be sore and she’ll be scared. Her vitals are strong, which is good.”
He leaned close, the antiseptic smells strong in his nose, the memories equally strong. Kasey had a pink blanket in Pediatrics when she’d been in the ICU. The nurses thought it would make his daughter’s appearance less harsh.
Pink. Blue. Didn’t matter, because in the end, blankets and machines hadn’t done a damn thing.
“Rosa, can you talk?” he urged. “Do you know what happened with your daughter?”
Rosa moaned. “Anna, Anna.”
Monitoring the beeping machines, Belle shook her head at him. “You need to go slower. Let me try.”
Placing a hand on the woman’s forehead, Belle spoke in a low, soothing voice. “Rosa, it’s me, Dr. North, the doctor who treated your daughter. I’m working with the FBI to try to find Anna. It’s all right, Rosa. We’ll get Anna. Can you tell us about the man who was with you when you were attacked?”
The woman’s eyes opened, but they looked unfocused, as if Rosa struggled between consciousness and staying asleep. “Mi corazón, where is she? My Anna?”
“We’re trying to find her, Rosa. We need to know about the man who attacked you. We think he took her.” Belle never raised her voice.
Inside, he screamed with frustration. The woman on the bed knew the answers, and he felt desperate to coax them out.
“Was it Jesse Dugin? The man who was hiding you?” Belle asked in Spanish.
Rosa nodded, licked her lips.
“He...promised to keep Anna safe. Promised...take us away and hide us. Has a boat...would take us away from Florida. Not more running.”
Kyle’s alarm grew. “Hide you from what? Who was threatening you?”
The woman’s eyes closed.
“Rosa, honey, Anna was scared in the clinic. Why were you running? From the law?” Belle pressed.
“Yes,” Rosa mumbled. “No, no. Police on his side. Powerful. So scared he take Anna.”
“Who wanted to take Anna?” Kyle demanded in English. “We need to find your daughter. Who wanted her?”
“Stop it,” Belle hissed. “You’re upsetting her.”
“Get the padre,” Rosa gasped, sitting up and reaching for Kyle. “Not safe. Anna. Save my baby, please!”
Alarms sounded on the machine as Rosa collapsed back to the bed. Candy rushed in. “That’s enough. Out, now!”
Belle tugged him away as the nurse bent over her patient.
Outside the room, he paced. “We were so damn close.”
“Not close enough. You shouldn’t have done that, Kyle. You scared her,” Belle said softly.
The gentle criticism proved too much. Memories assaulted him—the medical team badgering him about Kasey and letting her go because there was no hope. None. Her life could save others. Urging him to end the vigil at her bedside, shaking their heads, saying Kasey would never wake up. No brain activity, kept alive by machines.
Pressing a finger to his temple, he glared at her. “I scared her? I’m the one trying to find her daughter. She’s our only witness, damn it!”
Wisely, she left him alone, and headed to the horseshoe-shaped desk. “She called for a priest,” Belle told a nurse. “Can you send the chaplain up to see her?”
The nurse nodded.
Send a chaplain. More memories. Kyle wanted to rage and scream. All his emotions zigged all over the place. The chaplain wouldn’t solve anything. They needed to find Anna, save her.
Save my baby. Please.
I can’t save her.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force the memories back.
But the sounds of clicking and beeping machines, the smells of disinfectant and the drone of nurses in the background taunted him with the past.
I can’t save her.
When Belle returned from the nurse’s desk, he managed to speak in a cracked voice. “I have to get the hell out of here.”
Her dark brown gaze sharpened. “All right. Go. I’ll take an Uber home.”
Kyle fled the hospital as if the hounds of hell snapped at his heels.
Just as he had that long-ago day when he’d ordered the machines turned off, the silence in Kasey’s room deafening after he’d kissed her goodbye one last time.
He kept running, did not stop until he reached his SUV and slammed the door shut. Shaking, he stared at the black steering wheel. He did not start the vehicle. Nowhere to go. What was the point? Go home to an empty house?
I can’t save her.
The passenger door opened quietly. He was barely aware of Belle sliding into the SUV, closing the door shut.
God, please, don’t say anything because I’ll shatter. But she said nothing, only sat quietly.
He licked cracked, dry lips.
“Kasey was two years old. Her mother and I were on the verge of a divorce. But we wanted it to be amicable, because of Kasey. She meant everything to us. My wife told me I was married to my job, not her. She was right. Career meant everything to me. That night...I was working at the office. Damn paperwork. Better than being home, fighting with Caroline. I should have known better.”
Belle waited.
Kyle squeezed his hands tight around the wheel. “I got the call around midnight. She’d packed up, took Kasey and left. Headed to her mother’s. On the way, she swerved to avoid a drunk driver and a truck hit them, spinning her out of control into the southbound lane. A tractor trailer T-boned them. Caroline was killed instantly. Kasey, our baby, my baby, was in the backseat and still alive.”
A sharp intake of breath from Belle, but still she said nothing.