by Karen Kirst
Audrey belatedly realized she was still on the floor. She pushed to her feet and prayed her legs would hold her.
“I’m good.” Her throat ached, and her head throbbed with the stirrings of a headache, but she was alive. Thanks to him.
Her relief was short-lived. In a burst of energy, her attacker leveraged himself up, slamming his head into Julian’s. His beefy arm swung wildly and connected with Julian’s cheek. The double blows dazed him long enough for the masked man to get up and flee.
* * *
Julian’s gaze kept returning to the angry welts that marred Audrey’s delicate skin. He didn’t want to contemplate the possible outcome of this morning’s attack if he hadn’t come for a post-op checkup and spotted her passing the gift shop. He hadn’t planned to pester her with his questions, since she was on duty. But then he’d seen the goon in a dress suit enter the stairwell, and he’d decided to follow his instincts. The goon hadn’t been wearing the ski mask in the general area of the hospital, but Julian hadn’t gotten a clear view of his face.
He eased the tissue from his cheek and tossed it in the bin. The cut wasn’t deep. Still, it irked him. Weeks of desk duty had made him soft. If this had happened before January, he’d have subdued that guy and not suffered a single bruise. He wouldn’t have let himself be distracted by a pretty woman, either.
Julian inwardly cringed at his stupidity. The guys would have a hearty laugh over this one—
No, they wouldn’t. Because they were dead. Paulson, Akins, Rossello, Cook. Upstanding, honorable men. The best of the best.
Suppressing a tide of grief, he refocused on Audrey. Instantly, he knew she needed a break from the repetitive—and at this stage, pointless—questions.
Pushing off the wall, he stalked to where she perched on the edge of a hard, plastic seat. Her head was bowed.
“We’re done here,” Julian stated.
Both Audrey and the security member gaped at him.
“We need more information—”
“No, you don’t. There’s nothing more to tell.” Worried about her enlarged pupils and ashen complexion, he held out his hand. “Come with me, Audrey.”
Placing her trembling hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out of the office. He ushered her to the nearest exit, which emptied into a courtyard with massive plant pots and a koi pond in one corner. The early morning air had a crisp bite to it. Good, because she needed to cool off physically and emotionally.
She sat on the bench he indicated and stared at nothing. Julian crouched in front of her.
He touched her knee. “Can I get you a soda? Coffee?”
Clasping her hands tightly in lap, she shook her head. The elastic band holding her hair was about to slip free.
“You, um—” He leaned forward and gingerly removed the blue band, registering the sensation of her silky hair against his skin. Her alluring, summery scent washed over him. Again, he had a strong recollection of something tied to his childhood. “Here you go.”
She closed her hand over the band. Her shiny tresses spilled past her shoulders, tumbling waves of rich sable.
“What about a cherry slushy?” he said. “The cafeteria might have one.”
Her lips parted. “How do you know about that?”
“Don’t freak out. I’ve shared a few elevator rides with you. More often than not, you have a slushy from the gas station, and cherry has a distinctive color.”
When she continued to stare at him with that arrested expression, he moved to sit beside her. “Look, I’m trained to notice details. In some instances, it can lead to capturing a terrorist or preventing an attack. In others, it means I know what my neighbors like to drink after a long shift. That’s not a habit I can turn off when I’m out of uniform.”
Sighing, she swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I have a weakness for cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers, too.”
He felt a smile forming. “Good to know.”
She studied his cheek before cutting a glance at his arm. “Please tell me you didn’t reinjure your arm.”
“I didn’t reinjure my arm.”
Her eyes darkened. “You saved me.”
“I was in the right place at the right time.”
“I thank God for it.”
“What’s going on, Audrey?”
She bit her lip and shrugged. He was tempted to walk away. He’d suffered no lasting effects from his ordeal, and Audrey Harris was none of his concern. The one thing stopping him from escorting her back to security was the thought of his younger sisters. If any one of them was facing a threat and he wasn’t around to help, he’d want someone to step up to the plate.
Plus, she’d saved his life. So what if he’d done the same for her? He didn’t believe in calling things even. He owed her a debt of gratitude that couldn’t be repaid.
He tried again. “You can’t tell me these attacks aren’t connected.”
Indecision played out across her face. Her knuckles went white.
“I couldn’t help my team,” he said quietly. “But maybe I can help you.”
Her surprise mirrored his own. Why had he said that? He didn’t like thinking about what had happened, much less put it into words.
“There’s a thief in the hospital,” she said in a rush. “Someone’s been taking partially used ampules of narcotics to feed their addiction. They might also be watering down patient doses and taking the rest for themselves. I’m not sure.”
Actions with serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences. “You told your supervisor?”
“And some of my coworkers. Soon after, there were issues with my patients. Nothing life-threatening until you.” Her expression turned bleak. “This person must have a terrible addiction to feed.”
Julian sagged against the bench. The average drug user wouldn’t go to such extreme lengths to quell an investigation. It seemed to him that Audrey had gotten herself into something far more sinister. But what?
“Does your father know?”
She bolted to her feet and stared down at him. “He knows nothing, and that’s the way it stays.”
“I’ve served under him for more than a year. Gunny is a private man, but I have learned several things. Laziness and carelessness are his top pet peeves. He hates surprises. Can’t function on less than four cups of coffee a day, and he believes his only daughter hung the moon.”
“If my dad found out, he’d try to force me to quit. He still sees me as a helpless little girl.” Worry pinched her mouth. “Please don’t tell him.”
“You’re putting me in an untenable position. You know that, right?”
“I can handle this on my own.”
“Really?” He stood up. This close, he could see the contrast between her irises’ navy outer ring and the azure blue interior. Like the varying shades of the Pacific surrounding his island home. “What’s your plan?”
She licked her lips. “First off, I won’t be going into the supply room alone.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “I’ll be extra vigilant, both here and outside the hospital.”
“You think this will go away on its own.”
“That’s what I’m praying will happen.”
Prayer hadn’t made a single difference when that helo went down. He’d begged God to let his team live. His pleas had been in vain.
She spoke again, temporarily halting his descent into bitterness. “You’re a good listener, Sergeant Tan. I thank you for that. Now I’m asking you to respect my decision not to involve my dad.”
“I won’t volunteer the information.”
At his unspoken warning, she frowned. “And you won’t give him any reason to ask questions, I hope.”
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, Julian spotted a male nurse headed for the courtyard. He burst outside in a cloud of anger. “Veronica said to go home, Audrey.�
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“Home? I don’t finish until seven.”
The veins bulged at his temple. Older than Audrey by about a decade, the man looked like he led a rough life. Bloodshot eyes, reddened nose, sallow complexion. His head was shaved to call less attention to his bald spot. He was thin to the point of gauntness.
“I’ll have to work alone this shift,” he spat, dismissing Julian with a sneer. “You need to get your act together. If you don’t, I’m going to Mr. Harper.”
The door slammed behind him. Audrey had grown pale again.
“One of your coworkers?”
“Frank Russo.”
“And Mr. Harper? Who’s he?”
“Hospital president.”
He didn’t know her well enough to assume that she was innocent, but he’d developed keen instincts when it came to a person’s character. His gut said she was the sort of girl who put a high priority on others’ comfort. Otherwise, why choose a career that held zero glamour and demanded she give her all to the well-being of strangers?
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Audrey.”
Her mouth twisted. “Problem is, I can’t prove it.”
* * *
Not convinced leaving her alone was a good idea, Julian accompanied her to the cafeteria. As they didn’t have a slushy machine, she settled for coffee. He watched as she doctored it.
“I’ll follow you home when you’re ready,” he said.
“I’m going upstairs to speak with Veronica.” She took a small sip to taste and added another packet of sugar. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t work today.”
While her color had returned to normal and the welt across her throat looked less angry, she was jumpy, as her gaze performed frequent sweeps of the room.
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“I want you to have my number, just in case.”
“That’s not necessary.” At the register, she swiped her employee ID and thanked the cashier.
“I insist.”
She reluctantly did as he asked. When he’d finished inputting the information, she tucked it back into her pocket. “I don’t plan on calling you.”
“I hope you don’t have to.”
“I know why you’re doing this.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Because of my dad. And because you have a warrior mind-set. You see a problem, you fix it. You see someone in trouble, you make it your business to help. Like you said before, you don’t know how to turn off the marine and be a regular guy.”
All those things may be true, but he suspected there was more to his drive to help her. There was something different about her, an elusive quality that intrigued him. He didn’t want to be intrigued. Didn’t want to notice her compassionate eyes, her cute nose or kind mouth. He certainly didn’t want to catch her looking at him like he was that word the newspapers had thrown around. He wasn’t a hero.
“Speaking of problems, we’re about to have one.”
She glanced over her shoulder to the main set of double doors and gasped. “What is he doing here?”
Trent Harris strode into the dining area alongside a male friend. They were deep in conversation and hadn’t spotted them yet. Although out of uniform, Trent had the military look, his silver hair buzzed short and his physique honed from years of service. He exuded an undeniable air of authority.
“I forgot Dad meets with some of the board of directors this time of year to plan the annual charity golf tournament. I can’t let him see me like this,” she said, gesturing to her neck. “I’ll slip out the side exit.”
“Audrey—”
“Please, he has enough to worry about with work. All those men lost...he’s taking it hard. Maybe not as hard as you are—” She broke off, her eyes pleading with him. “I can’t burden him with this. Not now.”
Julian didn’t agree, but what say did he have in her choices? “Fine. Go.”
“Thank you.” She dodged tables and garbage receptacles and rushed out the door. He was watching her retreating form through the large windows separating the cafeteria and hallway when his superior approached.
“Sergeant Tan.” His eyes—the same bold hue as his daughter’s—gleamed with speculation. “What are you doing here?”
Harris’s friend continued into the food service area. “I had a post-op checkup.”
One broad eyebrow arched in silent question.
“It’s healing on schedule. I’ll report for work Monday.” Not for his usual duties, he thought bitterly. They’d planted him at an admin desk until the unit doctor decided to return him to full duty or trot him before a medical board for retirement consideration. Before the accident, he would’ve prayed for God to restore the career he loved. He didn’t bother now.
“If you need more sick time, call Staff Sergeant Webb.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Now, why don’t you explain to me what you were doing with my daughter?”
Julian controlled his reaction. He’d begun to think Harris hadn’t seen her. “Audrey was getting coffee, sir. We talked.”
“About?”
None of your business, he wanted to say. But he respected the man. Julian would go so far as to say he admired him. “My recovery. Your daughter is very conscientious.”
“Hmm.”
He stifled the urge to squirm beneath the stare that would have lesser men spilling all their secrets. “Looks like your friend has his food. I’ll see you in the office.”
“Tan.”
The single word had the effect of a snapped whip. Julian stopped short.
“I like you, but I’m envisioning a quiet, stable life for my daughter. I’m hoping I’ll get a doctor or lawyer for a son-in-law.”
“I understand, sir.” Marines need not apply, especially force-recon marines. They had a reputation for being rougher and wilder than the rest. Not that Julian had done anything to earn such a reputation. “I have no intention of dating Audrey.”
He nodded, seemingly appeased. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Julian left the hospital feeling dissatisfied. Thoughts of Audrey trailed him the rest of the day. He had a feeling this wasn’t over. But Harris had warned him off, and the woman herself didn’t want his help or protection.
He didn’t need the distraction, anyway. Getting his old life back had to be his main focus.
FOUR
Her apartment door was ajar.
The mental and physical exhaustion that had rendered her almost dizzy during the drive home was instantly forgotten as she touched her fingertips to the black painted wood. She’d locked it this morning. She always locked it. Thanks to her dad’s infamous lectures, “safety” could be her middle name.
Audrey bent to examine the knob and doorjamb and didn’t see any obvious damage. But then, anyone wanting to get in without alerting the neighbors could’ve used something as simple as a credit card. Her throat ached as memories of the storage-room attack pressed in. Had it only been a matter of hours since a stranger had attempted to murder her? She stared at the door, a tsunami of uncertainty building inside. Had he discovered her home address and decided to try again when she was alone and there was less chance of interference?
The urge to run to Julian’s apartment was strong. She’d insisted she wouldn’t call him. She hadn’t said anything about not pounding on his door.
The slim chance that a maintenance man had made an unscheduled visit kept her in place.
Taking a steadying breath, she pushed the door inward and was granted an unobstructed view of the entryway and short hallway that emptied into the dining nook. Her knees threatened to buckle. Late evening sun slanted through the patio doors, glinting on bits of glass and broken picture frames. Shoes formed haphazard piles on the linoleum—they’d been yanked out of the storage cubicle tucked against the wall.
&nb
sp; Audrey didn’t pause to consider her options. Spinning on her heel, she jogged down the hall, half-expecting to be ambushed from behind.
She pounded on Julian’s door. From this distance, she couldn’t see her apartment. Her assailant could use the opportunity to slip out undetected. Or he could still be hiding in her closet, behind her shower curtain or beneath her bed...
The door swung open, revealing a sleep-tousled marine. At the sight of her, he snapped to attention. “Audrey.”
“I woke you, didn’t I? I promised not to bother you with my problems, but my door was open and my stuff is everywhere—”
She broke off when he left her in the doorway and disappeared into what she assumed was his bedroom. When he returned, he had a sleek black gun in his grip and there was no trace of fatigue in his hardened face. He didn’t spare her a glance as he strode past her into the hall. This, she realized, was a force-recon marine in action, focus narrowed on the potential threat.
Audrey followed, her gaze glued to the surf-shop insignia stretched across his broad, muscular back. Reservations kicked in. What was she thinking? Mere days ago he’d hovered near death. She’d fought to keep him alive, and now she was sending him straight into danger.
He was about to cross the threshold when she spoke. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I should contact the police.”
Julian held a finger to his lips and continued into her apartment, sweeping the rooms one by one. The sight of her home in chaos, and the knowledge that a stranger had invaded her space and touched her things, made her feel sick and violated. It didn’t help that Julian was seeing her life laid bare.
Returning to the living room, he tucked the gun into his waistband. “He’s gone.”
Audrey bent to retrieve a crumpled photograph of herself and Seth off the floor. The image was one of her favorites, taken at a local shrimp festival, where they’d eaten their weight in fried shrimp and hush puppies and lounged on the riverbank listening to live bands. A month later, a cancer diagnosis had upended their innocent world.