by Laura Scott
“There! All finished,” she said, clipping the thread to the last suture. “Just let me clean it up one more time, okay?”
“You’re the boss.”
That brought forth a rusty chuckle. “Not hardly. No one has ever called me that before.”
When she finished cleaning the area around the incision, she stepped back and surveyed her handiwork. It wouldn’t win any prizes for being pretty; her sutures were big and clumsy next to the neat ones that Dr. Crowley had placed.
But they’d hold, which was all that mattered. Now, if only she had some oral antibiotics to give him...
“Thank you,” Mitch said in a low, husky voice. “I appreciate your expertise.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, surprised at the lump that had risen in the back of her throat. Why was she getting all emotional about this? She looked into Mitch’s blue eyes and tension shimmered between them, making her hyperaware of him.
What was wrong with her? She broke away from his mesmerizing gaze and reached out to begin cleaning up the mess. But Mitch reached out and captured her hands in his.
“I mean it, Dana,” he said. “I feel terrible about how you’ve been dragged into this. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you.”
She stared at their joined hands. His grasp was warm, his skin tanned by the summer sun a striking contrast to her pale fingers.
“I—I have to go.” She pulled her hands from his and turned so quickly she almost plowed face-first into the television perched on the top of a low dresser. “Good night,” she managed, as she rushed through the doorway of their connecting rooms, closing her side and locking it behind her.
Safe at last, she leaned back against the door and put a hand over her racing heart. She felt breathless and dizzy, as if she’d run a marathon rather than briefly holding hands with Mitch Callahan.
No, they hadn’t been holding hands. She tipped her head back, thudding it against the door as if to knock some sense into her brain. He’d been thanking her, that’s all. Apologizing for her being attacked at the hospital.
She needed to pull herself together. She’d loved and lost Kent and their baby. She was not going down that path again.
And especially not with a guy like Mitch, with ties to the firefighting community. Loving people who put their lives on the line each day wasn’t for her.
With resolute determination, she pushed herself away from the door and made her way into the bathroom. First thing tomorrow, she was going home.
Mitch was a threat to her emotional equilibrium. She needed to return to the mundane routine of her life.
And stay far, far away from Mitch Callahan.
THREE
Mitch groaned when he heard Dana’s side of the connecting door slam shut followed by the unmistakable click of the dead bolt shooting into place.
What was the matter with him? Dana might have come over to his ER room to thank him, but that didn’t mean she liked him.
In fact, dragging her into his mess likely made her dislike him even more. And it was understandable. He had failed her husband and placed her in danger. He absolutely needed to ensure her safety.
But how?
The throbbing in his temples pulsed along with the ache in his neck. He pushed himself upright and went into the bathroom to wash up. His reflection in the mirror made him grimace.
His skin was streaked with black soot mixed with blood. His looks alone could have scared her away. Craning his head to the right, he checked out the incision. It looked good, although he would have given a lot for a bottle of ibuprofen.
After washing away the grime while steering clear of the incision, he went over to stretch out on the bed. He needed some sort of action plan because clearly Dana wasn’t going to stick around for long.
The thought of her driving away tonight had him lunging back to his feet. He crossed over and parted the curtains over the window so he could look out at the parking lot. Her car was still there, but for how long?
He was tempted to go out and remove the distributor cap so she couldn’t leave. The thought of her heading home and being found by the knife-wielding man made him feel sick.
Yet there was also the possibility that they might need to leave here in a hurry.
No, disabling the car was out of the question. He’d just have to trust that Dana would stay until morning, the way she’d promised.
He let the drapes fall back into place and moved away. Unfortunately, women didn’t necessarily keep their promises. At least, Janice hadn’t. When he had caught her with Simon, he’d been shocked, appalled and hurt. The only good news about the whole thing was that he had found out the truth before he’d asked her to marry him.
Old news, he reminded himself. He might not understand why she had bothered stringing him along, but it didn’t matter. Just because his brothers and his sister seemed to have been bitten by the lovebug didn’t mean he had to follow in their footsteps.
Although the idea of being a loner like his brother Mike didn’t sit well, either. Regardless, he had bigger issues to worry about. Janice might not have been faithful, but she certainly hadn’t deserved to die.
And how on earth could his attacker have gotten into his boss’s office to use his phone? He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that Rick Nelson had set him up deliberately. With Jeff gone, Mitch was the only fire investigator on staff, at least until Rick found a replacement. Word on the street was that several former firefighters had applied for the job, Mitch’s old buddy Paul Roscoe being one of them. In fact, Paul had asked him for a reference, which he’d gladly given.
Questions whirled around in his mind until he fell into a troubled doze. Every creak and muffled thump from other motel guests woke him up, making him go still while staring through the darkness.
By the time morning had dawned, he had given up trying to sleep and dragged himself upright. He went over to see if Dana’s car was still there and was relieved when he saw the compact vehicle.
She hadn’t left yet. He wanted a shower, but knew he couldn’t get the stitches wet. Instead, he made a cup of coffee in the small coffee maker.
As he sipped from the cup, he tried to think of a way to assure that Dana would be safe returning to her home. He’d rather she didn’t go back there, at least not right away. Could he convince her to go to her in-laws? Maybe. He remembered how Kent’s parents had stood by her during the funeral. Surely they’d stayed close over the years.
If not her in-laws, then maybe some other friend. Someone who wouldn’t mind a houseguest for a couple of days.
A male friend? He inwardly grimaced, then realized he was being ridiculous. Why wouldn’t she be dating? She hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend, but it wouldn’t be surprising if she was seeing someone. Kent had been gone three years.
Yet the way she’d gone pale when he’d taken her hands in his gave him the impression that she hadn’t moved on with her life. The idea that she might have shut herself off from men made him feel guilty all over again.
If only he could go back to that fateful night. He had had his doubts about Kent Petrie coming along on the call so soon after his training. Mitch had asked Paul for his opinion, and his buddy had thought Kent would be okay. Mitch had tried one last time to convince Kent to stay with the truck and man the hose, but the rookie hadn’t wanted to be kept out of the action. So Mitch had reluctantly agreed to let him take a flanker position, thinking if he kept the rookie close, he’d be able to keep an eye on him.
Only the fire had gotten out of hand really fast. There had been flammable material of some sort stored in a remote corner of the building that suddenly blew up with a ferocious roar, turning the fire directly toward them. Kent had freaked out a bit, clawing at his face mask, and that was when Mitch had realized the seal wasn’t tight enough and smoke was seeping up inside the mask, clogging
Kent’s nose, mouth and eyes.
When Kent had collapsed, Mitch had tossed the kid over his shoulder and gotten him out of there as fast as humanly possible. But it had still taken much longer than he’d expected. The fire was so intense, he’d felt the breath of the dragon searing him from behind.
By the time he had gotten Kent outside and begun CPR, he’d known it was already too late. But he’d refused to stop, continuing to pump the young man’s chest in a fifteen-stroke rhythm while a paramedic on scene tried to force oxygen into his smoke-damaged lungs.
Kent had been declared dead thirty minutes later at barely twenty-three years old.
Yet Dana had come over to thank him. And what had he done in return?
Drawn her smack-dab into the middle of danger.
He was so lost in his thoughts, his coffee had grown cold. He forced it down and prepared to make a second cup. He briefly considered reaching out to Paul for help, but decided it wasn’t a good idea to put his buddy in danger, as well. When his coffee had finished brewing, he heard the sounds of Dana moving around next door.
Maybe he could hire his brother Mike, the only Callahan sibling to refuse to follow their father’s wishes of choosing careers that served the community. Mike ran his own private investigator business, and it was possible that he’d agree to watch over Dana for a while, until Mitch could be sure their assailant hadn’t used her license plate number to obtain her home address.
He and Mike had grown closer lately, partially because Mike was the only other Callahan who wasn’t married and popping out kids. As single guys, they’d banded together. Not that Mitch didn’t love his family, because he did. But their weekly Sunday brunches had gotten exponentially more crowded since three of his brothers and his sister had all fallen in love and gotten married.
He had imagined he’d go down that same path with Janice, and when that plan had crashed and burned, he decided Mike was right. Staying single was a lot easier than being in a relationship.
He pulled out his cell phone—the screen was cracked, but it still worked—and put in a call to his brother. Mike didn’t answer, so he left a message briefly explaining the events from last night and outlining his plan to hire him to watch over Dana.
When he disconnected from the call, he felt better having at least the semblance of a plan. Not perfect, but not terrible, either. Once he knew Dana was safe, he’d get in touch with Miles to let him know about Janice Valencia’s murder and the attempt to frame him.
The door between their connecting rooms opened and Dana hovered in the doorway, looking beautiful and fresh, as if she’d enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Too bad he couldn’t say the same.
“Would you like me to drop you off somewhere on my way home?” she asked, sipping from her own cup of coffee.
The fact that she was telling him her plans, not asking, was no surprise. He had anticipated something like this. And her offer to give him a ride was more than he’d dared to hope for.
“Yes, that would be great.” He approached cautiously, sipping his coffee and keeping an easy smile on his face. “I appreciate the offer.”
“I’d like to get going in the next fifteen minutes or so, if that’s okay.” She didn’t meet his gaze and he felt bad that he’d crossed some sort of invisible line last night. Making her feel uncomfortable was the last thing he’d wanted to do.
“Fine with me.”
“Good.” She stepped back and turned away. Moments later, he heard the door to her motel room open and close.
He quickly finished his coffee and joined her outside. It looked to be another nice summer day, and he wondered if she was scheduled to work again later that afternoon.
Dana didn’t say much as she slid in behind the wheel. He folded his large frame into the passenger seat, sliding the seat back as far as it would go so he had more leg room.
Once they were back on the highway, she turned to glance at him. “Do you want me to drop you off at the hospital so you can pick up your car? You should probably see the doctor again anyway. You need a course of antibiotics.”
“No, thanks. I’d like to check out your place, make sure it’s safe before I leave you there alone.”
She frowned, obviously annoyed, and her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is to me,” he said in a firm tone. If she insisted on taking him to the hospital, he’d lose precious time finding her address and then heading over to her house. And what if Mike hadn’t gotten his message yet? Mitch couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone and vulnerable.
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” she stubbornly repeated. “I’m sure that guy didn’t get my license plate number. It was dark and he was chasing us—I doubt he was able to memorize it that quickly.”
He hoped and prayed she was right. “Please humor me,” he said in a low voice. “It’s bad enough that you had to help me escape. Please let me be sure you’re safe. Once I know that your house is clear, I’ll go away and you’ll never hear from me again.”
There was a long pause before she gave a curt nod. “Fine.”
He let out his breath in a soundless sigh. “Thank you.”
She didn’t say anything more, but headed home. He recognized the neighborhood, a little surprised she and Kent were able to afford a house there. It was high-class, full of newly built homes on streets named after various birds. He knew what a rookie firefighter’s salary was, and while a nurse likely did pretty well, he was still surprised to see the home that was more than twice the size of his modest place.
“Wow,” he said when she pulled up in front of the garage. “You have a really nice home.”
She scowled. “Yeah. It’s big all right.”
He raised an eyebrow at her less-than-enthusiastic response. “Let me go in first, okay?”
She rolled her eyes and slid out from behind the wheel. “It’s not like you’re armed. What are you going to do if someone is here?”
Good point. “Do me a favor and stay in the car while I make sure the house is empty.”
“Use the code on the garage to get in. It’s 7272.” She slid back in behind the wheel and put the keys in the ignition.
He entered through the garage, staying off to one side as the door rolled upward. The garage was clean and mostly empty except for a few bins that were labeled as Christmas decorations.
No one was in there, so he made his way to the door leading into the house. He opened it as softly as possible and eased his way inside.
The garage door led into a spacious laundry room and from there, into the kitchen. The kitchen faced the spacious backyard through a set of patio doors. He moved silently through Dana’s house, looking for any sign that someone might have been there. The windows were all closed up tight, the air cool from the central air-conditioning. He preferred fresh air, but in this case he was glad she had kept everything closed up. Made it safer for her in the long run.
He didn’t find anything out of place. In fact the kitchen, living room and guest bedrooms were almost obsessively neat and tidy. Was that Dana’s doing? Must be, since it didn’t appear that she shared the place with anyone else.
The house was big so it took him a while to clear it. And when he came to the master suite, he felt like he was violating her personal space, opening up her closets, looking under her bed and checking the shower stall.
When he returned to the garage a good fifteen minutes later, he found that Dana had already parked inside and was standing next to her vehicle, resting one hand on her purse, as she tapped her foot impatiently on the cement.
“Everything is clear,” he said. “Thanks for giving me time to check it out. Makes me feel better to know you’re safe.”
She straightened and nodded. “Okay, but how are you going to get back to your car?”
“I’ll walk, it’s not that far, just a c
ouple of miles. It will give me time to think.” He wanted to take her hand in his, but forced himself to stay back. Touching her had upset her before; he didn’t want to make the same mistake again. “Thanks again for all your help.” He turned to walk down the driveway.
“Mitch, wait.” Dana’s voice stopped him and he glanced at her over her shoulder. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. No reason for you to walk.”
“No need, I’d rather you stay home, where it’s safe.” He wondered where in the world Mike was. Glancing down at his phone, he didn’t see a response via text. Sometimes when Mike was on a stakeout, he turned off the volume on his phone, but he should have seen Mitch’s attempt to call by now.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Dana said, her voice sharp with temper. Maybe she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, either. “I’m not in danger, you are. Yet you want to stroll down the street in the daylight for anyone to see you? Maybe you sustained a head injury because that’s the only excuse I can see for your lack of reason.”
“Having you stay here safe and sound is perfectly reasonable,” he countered.
Come on, Mike, where are you?
When Dana moved to get back into her car, he came rushing back up the driveway. “Okay, how about this? You go inside and I’ll hang around in the garage for a little bit. I’ll call my brother for a ride.”
She paused, nodded, then slammed the driver’s-side door shut. “Okay. I guess that will work.”
“Great. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
For the first time that morning the corner of her mouth tipped up in the barest hint of a smile. “Yeah, why do I find that so hard to believe?”
Dana was so beautiful, especially when she smiled. Yet he sensed she hadn’t been very happy over the past few years. Why had it been so hard for her to move past Kent’s death? Losing a spouse was horrible, but three years also seemed like a long time.
He tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, more to keep himself from reaching for her than anything else.