Dane chuckled, then started the car and drove away from the marina. “It shouldn’t take us long to get there. The policeman I spoke to told me to take you to Thomas Hospital, on Murphy Avenue.”
She nodded. “I suppose you know where that is.”
“Yeah, I’ve been to Fairhope and Daphne and Spanish Fort before. I even have a general idea of where the hospital is.” What he didn’t say was that the last time he’d visited this area, he’d been with Lorna on one of her antique-hunting expeditions in Fairhope.
“I haven’t had stitches since I was a kid and fell out of a tree in the backyard.” Annie curled up on the seat, the darkness surrounding her like a comforting blanket. “They took ten stitches in the back of my head. Boy, was my father upset.”
“You can’t blame him for being worried about you. Head injuries can be serious.”
“He wasn’t upset about my injury. He was angry with me for being such a tomboy.” She’d been a disappointment to her father for as long as she could remember. He had wanted a daughter as genteel and dignified as his perfect wife. Unfortunately, Annie had inherited very little of her mother’s sweet, docile nature and a great deal of her grandmother Harden’s stubborn, independent, adventurous characteristics. According to family members, Grandmother Harden, the Italian war bride who had died in childbirth at the age of twenty-four, had been a fiery, temperamental, headstrong woman who hadn’t fit into her husband’s genteel Southern family. “My father told me that if I acted more like a little lady the accident never would have happened.”
Dane glanced at Annie and caught a glimpse of some long-ago pain as it flashed across her face. “So, tell me, this guy tonight, did he try to steal your purse or was he trying to rape you or—”
“Neither.”
“Did you know him?” Dane wondered if the attacker might have been a boyfriend or an ex-husband.
“No, I didn’t know him. I didn’t even get a good look at his face. It was dark and he came out of nowhere. It happened so quickly that all I remember is he wasn’t very tall. Not nearly as tall as you. And he was wiry.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Not a word.”
“So you don’t have a clue as to why this guy tried to kill you?”
“I didn’t say that.” She shifted uneasily in the seat. The pain in her side was getting progressively worse and the wound hadn’t stopped oozing blood. “I have a good idea why he came after me. I just don’t know who he was or who sent him.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning? Maybe your explanation will make more sense that way.”
“What difference does it make to you? You can drop me at the hospital and be on your way. There’s no need for you to become involved in any of this.”
Dane knew she was right. Any sensible man would do just that—drop her at the emergency room and leave her and her problems to the police. “You mentioned earlier that you’d already been to the police today and they hadn’t been of any help to you. Want to explain that to me?”
Annie huffed loudly, letting out a long, exaggerated breath. “The investigator in you just has to know, doesn’t he?”
She glanced at the big man, who didn’t take his eyes off the road. Why was it that she instinctively trusted this man—this stranger? For all she knew, he might be lying to her about his credentials, might even be involved in Halley’s disappearance. Okay, enough of that, she told herself. That kind of thinking is paranoid.
“To make a long story short, a friend of mine, a staff reporter on my magazine, came down here to the Grand Hotel for a Society of Professional Journalists workshop a couple of days ago. She called me the evening after she arrived and told me that she had some information on the story of a lifetime, something I wasn’t going to believe. It seems she had received a package in the mail right before she’d left home, but she just stuck it in her suitcase and didn’t open it until the next day.”
“Your magazine? Does that mean you’re a reporter or—”
“It means I’m the Publisher and the Editor-in-Chief. Today’s Alabama is my brainchild.”
“So what does your magazine and your reporter’s story have to do with your being attacked tonight?” Dane asked.
“I’m not sure, but my guess is that Halley had come across something really big. Believe me, she isn’t the type to exaggerate.”
“So, what was the big story?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you—”
“If you’ll stop playing Twenty Questions, I’ll explain!” Annie took another deep breath. “When Halley called me, the phone line went dead before she could give me any details. I called her back, but there was no answer. I called the hotel and had them check her room. She wasn’t there, but she hadn’t checked out. She’s been missing for two days. She just disappeared.”
“You contacted the local authorities about her disappearance, didn’t you? That’s what you meant about talking to the police earlier today.”
“There was no sign of foul play in her room and it seems that several hotel guests saw a woman fitting Halley’s description leave the hotel with a man that afternoon. They claim the two were laughing and acting very chummy, so the police think she just took off that night with some guy for a wild fling. Can you believe it?”
“But you don’t think she’d do something like that.”
“Halley Robinson would never go off with some man. She’s practically engaged to a great guy back home. If he hadn’t been in Pittsburgh on a business trip, I’m sure Clay would have come with me to look for her. I haven’t told him or her parents that Halley is missing.”
“Maybe the guy who attacked you had nothing to do with your friend’s disappearance,” Dane said.
“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know. I’m going strictly on instinct. I believe Halley uncovered something terrible, something that put her life in danger.”
“You think your friend has been murdered?”
Annie clenched her teeth tightly. Dane Carmichael had just put her greatest fear into words. Yes, she was afraid that Halley was dead and that whatever “story of a lifetime” her friend had unearthed had not only cost her her own life, but had put Annie’s life in danger, as well.
“If that’s true, if Halley is dead, then it’s all my fault,” Annie said.
“Why is it your fault?” he asked.
“Because I’m the one who encouraged her to follow her dream and become a reporter instead of playing it safe and settling into the life her parents chose for her. I’m the one who took her under my wing and advised her to be her own woman—to break free from tradition.”
Dane didn’t respond. Annie couldn’t even hear him breathing. She glanced over at him and noticed how tightly he gripped the steering wheel. What was wrong with him? He looked as if he was in pain. A mental agony brought on by unhappy memories, Annie surmised. She knew only too well how memories could wreak havoc on a person’s present contentment.
Revising his earlier opinion, Dane decided that coming to Point Clear had been a major mistake. Ever since he’d docked at the marina this afternoon, he hadn’t been able to get Lorna off his mind. And now, Annie’s comment about her encouraging her friend to break free from tradition made him wonder if Lorna had wanted to break free? Had she longed for a different life, far removed from the one her father had chosen for her? Had she regretted marrying him instead of pursuing some personal dream buried deep in her heart? He didn’t know. Had never asked her. Had never questioned the idyllic life he had thought they shared. And now it was too late. He would never know.
Dane drove up to Thomas Hospital’s ER, parked the car and carried Annie inside. A boyish-looking policeman met them as they entered. Dane wondered how long the guy had been out of the academy. Six months? A year at the most, would be his guess.
“I’m Kyle Yarborough,” the young officer said. “Is this the victim?”
“Ms. Annie Harden,” Dane told him. “She’s got a nasty
knife wound that should be taken care of immediately.”
“Go right on back.” The policeman stepped out of the way. “Dr. Meeks will check her over and then I’ll take her statement.”
Once Dane deposited Annie on the examination table, a nurse asked him to please step outside. He hesitated, wondering if Annie would be all right without him. Fool, he chided himself. Of course she’d be all right. There was no need for him to take a possessive attitude where she was concerned. He could leave right now and she wouldn’t care. So why didn’t he just go on back to the Sweet Savannah and get a good night’s sleep?
“Dane,” she called to him when he turned to go.
“Yeah?”
“Will you hang around for a while?” Dammit, why had she asked him to stay? She didn’t need him, even if for some reason she couldn’t fathom, his presence was reassuring.
“Sure. I’ll be waiting right outside.” Why hadn’t he told her that he didn’t want to get involved? He was supposed to be on vacation. There was no rule that said he had to step in and play bodyguard for some woman he’d just met.
Thirty minutes later Dr. Meeks, a bespectacled, balding physician in his late fifties, came out and spoke to Dane and the police officer.
“Ms. Harden will be just fine. She’s been given a tetanus shot and a couple of prescriptions. She’s free to leave as soon as she gets dressed.”
“You aren’t keeping her here overnight?” Dane asked.
“I see no reason to keep her,” Dr. Meeks said. “And Ms. Harden seems eager to go home.”
“Is she physically able to drive?” Dane narrowed his gaze on the doctor’s face.
Dr. Meeks cleared his throat. “Well, I’d suggest she get a good night’s rest before trying to drive all the way back to North Alabama from here, but the lady seems quite determined.”
“I’ll need to question Ms. Harden before she leaves,” Yarborough said.
“She’s getting dressed now,” the doctor told him. “She should be with you in a few minutes.”
“I’ll hurry her along,” Dane said, then made his way down the hallway and to Annie’s ER cubicle.
Dane knocked on the partition and waited. Annie pulled aside the curtain and stepped out into the hallway.
“Are you all right?” he asked
She nodded. “The doctor says I’ll be fine.” She pointed to her side, covered by her bloody white blouse, which hung loosely about her hips. “Twenty little stitches. He said to see my doctor back home in a couple of days.” She held up two small pieces of paper. “One antibiotic prescription and one for pain, if I need it.”
Dane grasped Annie by the elbow and pulled her to his side. “Officer Yarborough is waiting to ask you about the attack.”
“Fine, let’s get this over with.”
Dane escorted her out into the waiting area, where the young policeman met them. He led her over to the far end of the room and eased her down onto a vinyl sofa.
Annie sat, nervously tapping her foot on the floor. Dane hovered over her. Strangely enough, his presence was comforting and not at all intimidating or threatening. He didn’t make her feel the way her father had when he’d scrutinized her actions, nor did he affect her the way Preston had when he’d watched her every move and voiced his disapproval.
Don’t let Dane Carmichael’s Southern gentleman facade fool you, she reminded herself. He’s the old-fashioned macho type, Annie, old girl, and don’t you forget it!
Dane remained silent while she told the officer how a man had grabbed her and tried to kill her. And then she told him about her suspicions that her attack and Halley Robinson’s disappearance were somehow connected.
“I talked to a Lieutenant McCullough over the phone yesterday and explained about Halley’s disappearance, and he told me he’d check into it. Then I stopped by the police station and saw him when I first arrived this afternoon,” Annie said. “The news story Halley told me about must be the reason she’s missing and the reason I was attacked.”
“What did Lieutenant McCullough say, ma’am?”
“Oh, he has a couple of eyewitnesses who think they saw my friend leave the hotel with some man earlier that day. So, your lieutenant thinks she’s gone off with that man of her own free will.”
Officer Yarborough cleared his throat several times. “I’ll file this report and we’ll take a look around where you say the incident occurred, but I have to warn you, Ms. Harden, there’s not much chance we’ll catch this guy.” Officer Yarborough closed his notebook. “You can’t ID him and there were no other witnesses. I’d say the best thing you can do is count yourself lucky and go home.”
“What about Halley Robinson?” Annie asked.
“Ma’am, I don’t know anything about that case, but if Lieutenant McCullough thinks your friend is just off somewhere with a guy, then she’ll probably show up. If she doesn’t, then her family can file a missing person’s report and—”
“I told your Lieutenant McCullough this afternoon that Halley isn’t the type to run off with some man!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Pink splotches stained the policeman’s cheeks. “Are you going to see Ms. Harden back to the hotel?” he asked Dane.
“Yeah, sure.” Dane felt a bit sorry for the young officer. Dealing with Annie’s barely controlled ire seemed to unnerve the boy.
The minute Officer Yarborough left, Annie gritted her teeth, groaned, and knotted her right hand into a fist. “It’s obvious that the police aren’t going to do a damn thing to find Halley. I’ll have to go home and tell her parents and Clay that she’s missing. I suppose the next step is for her parents to file a report with the police. Amelia and Dennis are going to blame me for what’s happened and they have every right to.”
“You truly believe something bad has happened to her, don’t you? You don’t think she just ran off with some guy for a romantic fling and she’ll show up in a few days.”
“How many times do I have to say it—Halley isn’t the type!” Annie rose to her feet, then groaned when pain sliced through her side.
Dane lifted her off her feet. Annie gasped. Responding instinctively, she placed her arm around his neck and gazed into his sky-blue eyes.
“I’ll take you back to the hotel. On the way we can stop at a drugstore and get both your prescriptions filled. Then you’re going straight to bed.” Dane carried her out of the ER waiting room and into the parking area. “You need somebody to look after you tonight, Ms. Harden, so it seems you’re stuck with me.”
Oh, God! He was definitely one of them. The protective male. The take-charge man. The Southern gentleman, who assumes it is his right and his privilege to play white knight to any and all damsels in distress. She knew his type—knew it firsthand. She’d been fathered by just such a person and she’d also been married to one.
Well, if Mr. Dane Carmichael thought she needed him, he was wrong. And if he thought she would be grateful for his macho chivalry, then he was wrong again. The last thing she wanted in her life now or ever was some big, strong man telling her what she could and could not do.
Dane eased Annie into the car, then got in and started the engine. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to postpone his vacation for a day or two, just long enough to get Annie Harden back home safe and sound. After all, the woman obviously needed him.
Yeah, sure. Aren’t you being noble, he told himself. Admit it, you need something—anything—to put your mind on, something to occupy your time. Cruising off to the Caribbean for a couple of weeks wasn’t a good idea, nor was stopping in Point Clear, a placed filled with so many memories of Lorna.
“Sit back and relax, Annie,” Dane said. “Just leave everything to me.”
Annie cringed. Leave everything to him. Not likely. Once he took her back to the hotel, she’d tell him adios. She was perfectly capable of packing her bags and driving to Florence in the morning without any help from him. She supposed she could fly home, but the drive would take much longer and allow her more time to prepare her
self to give Clay and the Robinsons the news about Halley’s disappearance. After all, she could be wrong about the situation and Halley could show up alive and well in the morning.
“Give me the prescriptions.” Dane held out his hand.
Annie rummaged around in her pocket, pulled out the two sheets of wrinkled paper and glanced down at the doctor’s barely legible handwriting. She stuffed one of the prescriptions back into her pocket.
“Here.” She handed the other over to Dane. “If you’ll go in and get it filled, I’ll repay you when we get to the hotel. Thank goodness my insurance company has a twenty-four-hour hotline, so the hospital was able to get the information they needed without my insurance card.”
“This is only one prescription.” Dane waved the paper in front of her face.
“It’s for the antibiotic,” she told him. “I won’t need the pain medication.”
“Take my word for it, honey, you’ll need it before morning.”
“So pick me up a bottle of aspirin while you’re in the drugstore.” She settled back in the seat and looked out the window, deliberately avoiding making eye contact. “And please don’t call me ‘honey’ again. Okay? I don’t like it.”
“Suit yourself. About the pain medication. And I’m sorry if I offended you by calling you honey. Force of habit. I call most females honey.”
“I figured you did.” She cast her gaze quickly in his direction. His lips twitched slightly with that almost smile of his and she knew he was trying not to laugh. At her! “For your information, Mr. Carmichael, I’m not like most females. I dislike being lumped together with all the other Southern belles who’ve been taught since kindergarten that it’s their duty to boost men’s egos.”
He shifted the gear into Reverse, backed the car out of the parking place and pulled into the street. “So who was he?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The guy who did a number on you—who was he?”
“What makes you think—”
“Because, Ms. Harden, you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of a boulder.”
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