One More Dance

by Roxanne Rustand

  She felt a chill skitter down her spine. “Dangerous?”

  “Guys who look like trouble from the minute you lay eyes on them.”

  “At the free clinic, maybe, but like I said, Jared has never owned a gun. I swear.”

  “Then why did he have this one in his glove compartment? There might be a lot of things you don’t know about your husband, ma’am.” The sheriff headed for the door, pausing there to write something in his notebook. “We’ve sent the gun off to ballistics.”

  “Ballistics?” She swallowed hard. “Why?”

  “Because, Mrs. Mathers, the preliminary autopsy report shows that the female victim in his car was alive at the time of the accident, but it also appears that she’d been shot not long before. So if you suddenly happen to remember anything important, call me.” His voice held an edge of exaggerated patience as he handed her a business card. “Here’s my private cell phone number. Be sure to let me know.”

  WITH CASEY AND SYLVIA gone, Kate took the next hourly visit at Jared’s bedside.

  “I’m here, sweetheart,” she murmured, leaning over the bed rail to brush a kiss against his temple. “You’re going to be just fine—I know you are. Once we get past this little problem, you’re going to be on the mend in no time.”

  Sylvia was right—he did look better. His face now held a tinge of color, and when Kate gently squeezed his hand, there seemed to be a faint response. Still, his eyes didn’t open and he didn’t respond to her voice.

  The hint of suspicion and veiled sarcasm in the sheriff’s voice had played over and over in her mind ever since the man left, and even now she couldn’t quell the tremor in her hands.

  “The sheriff has some questions for you and I do, too, but it can all wait.” She searched Jared’s face. “I know you’ll have an explanation for everything, and then we’ll be able to get back to normal.” Please, God, let that be true.

  She brushed back the stray lock of dark hair that always wanted to tumble forward over his forehead.

  Explanations.

  A word that had nearly triggered the end of their marriage when she’d demanded them long ago. A word that could spell even greater tragedy now.

  SHE’D BEEN SO SURE back then...so hurt and angry. Her suspicions had been fueled by stray gossip she overheard at the local beauty salon, and the whispers around town had seemed to follow her everywhere.

  Someone had seen Jared with a woman in the next town.

  Someone else had seen them holding hands.

  At Casey’s third-grade carnival, Kate had noticed two women laughing as another pointed out a tall, willowy brunette and said it was easy to see what Jared saw in her.

  Kate had confronted him that night, and he’d lashed right back about trust and love, claiming he was equally hurt by her lack of faith and refusing to explain anything. After that, they’d argued more than they’d conversed and Jared even left for a few days, but he'd returned soon afterwards and eventually they’d both retreated into stubborn, frosty silence. Like a scab over a wound, it covered a raw underbelly of mistrust in their marriage for years.

  They’d been excessively polite.

  Excessively careful to explain five-minute delays or changes of plan.

  Then gradually that faded, as well, and they’d been able to move forward.

  Long afterward, the brunette spied them while they were Christmas shopping in Madison and rushed through the crowd to give Jared a quick embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Your husband saved my life,” she gushed, turning to Kate. An immense diamond sparkled on her left hand. “I still can’t thank him enough for how discreetly he handled my divorce. My ex was a violent man, but I couldn’t be happier now.”

  After she flitted away, Kate had turned to Jared. “You couldn’t have told me that? Wouldn’t it all have been so much easier?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Not even your own wife?”

  “Confidentiality.” He’d shrugged, but she’d seen the turbulent emotion in his eyes at what his honor had cost him in his personal life. “It was a very high-profile case.”

  And it had been, when Kate thought back, vaguely remembering headlines about a powerful, philandering businessman, his fling with a secretary and his livid socialite wife. Eventually, the tabloids had made a field day of it, but Jared had never said a single word.

  Now she looked down at him and prayed that his future hadn’t been compromised by forces too powerful to withstand. “We’ll get through this, sweetheart. I know we will. We have to, because you still owe me that last dance, and I won’t let you go.”

  There would be a good explanation for the woman in his car.

  For the weapon in the glove box.

  Once he was fully conscious, he’d be able to solve all of the mysteries swirling around them. Then Kate could convince him to give up that free clinic and all those late hours, just as Tom had said, and life could go back to normal...safe and calm and happy.

  Wouldn’t it?

  JARED STEELED HIMSELF against another wave of pain that had been relentlessly pounding through his brain for...how long?

  The monotonous clicks and whirs of some sort of equipment went on, and on, and on. He smelled the sharp odors of disinfectant. Some sort of chemical. Where was he?

  His stomach rolled, rebelling against the intensifying pain that seemed to radiate from every part of his body. I’ve got to get out of here before it’s too late. They’ll come after us again. Just a few miles more...

  He tried to move and he couldn’t.

  Tried to open his eyes, to call out, but it was as if he were frozen in place, locked in a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

  Patty. Oh, Lord, where is she?

  Alarm shot through him, cutting through the heavy cotton batting that had filled his brain, making it impossible to think.

  Again, hallucinatory images assaulted him from all sides. Screams. Breaking glass. The smell of choking, acrid smoke and burning flesh. And then, like a miracle, he felt something real.

  A cool, soft hand, as familiar as the beating of his heart.

  A distant voice.

  The faint scent of peaches.

  Comforting, loving sensations. Only danger was here, too, looming fierce and dark—threatening to destroy everything good and wonderful in his life.

  “Patty.” He struggled to say the name louder, but managed only a rusty croak. “Patty? We...we’ve gotta go.”

  At a sharp, indrawn breath he managed to pry his eyelids partway open. Hazy images swam within his field of vision. Bright lights. Faces. Tubes and wires and some sort of silver bars fencing him in.

  “Mr. Mathers?”

  He blinked and the face of a heavyset woman in white came into focus.

  “You’re in the hospital ICU. You’ve been heavily sedated, but you’re coming around. How do you feel?”

  His throat was raw, thick. He tried to clear it, but that made it hurt all the more.

  “You were intubated for a while, so I imagine your throat is pretty sore. Would you like to sit up a little more?” When he nodded, she touched a button to raise the head of the bed a few inches. “We’re going to check you over a bit, and then your wife can come back in. She’s been very worried about you.”

  He sank deeper into the pillow and closed his eyes.

  She’d been here—he’d smelled her perfume, and he’d felt her familiar, loving touch. Had he called out Patty’s name aloud, or had he only dreamed it? Would Kate even come back in if she’d heard him?

  He had to see Kate. Had to warn her, before it was too late.

  But the lights started to dim, and he felt himself drift inexorably back into the darkness. He struggled to focus. To keep his brain clear...but quicksand seemed to enfold him, sucking him deeper into oblivion.

  Please, God—keep her safe. Please...

  KATE PACED THE WAITING room, Jared’s urgent words running through her thoughts in an unending litany. Patty. We...we’ve gotta go, Patty.r />
  Patty had to be the woman who had died in the accident. But why had Jared sounded so urgent, as if they’d been fleeing?

  Had they been running away together?

  Kate discounted that thought as quickly as it surfaced. He was a good and loving man, honorable above all things. Whatever her first reaction had been at hearing the details of the accident, she knew deep in her heart that he would never just run off with someone. He would gently end one relationship before ever starting another.

  So what did that leave?

  A troubled client? But there’d been no record of any appointments the afternoon of the accident. Tom hadn’t found any documents that could be associated with the woman who’d died.

  A random act of kindness? Had Jared inadvertently become enmeshed in some sort of domestic dispute? But he wasn’t a stupid man. He knew those situations were a great danger to the cops themselves, and he would’ve called 911 rather than playing the hero.

  What else could it be?

  And then there were the break-ins at her clinic. The anonymous, threatening phone calls. Was all of it related somehow—a plan devised by some angry defendant?

  And what about Amy’s flat tire? A coincidence, or had someone visited her place in the early-morning darkness to ensure that she’d be late getting to the clinic?

  Kate shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, counting the slowly moving minutes on the wall clock, impatient for a chance to talk to him again. Should she share that name with the sheriff—or should she wait?

  She hesitated, then left a message for Tom in case the name might jostle his memory. Finally she dialed the sheriff’s private number. “I’ve got a possible name for you. Patty.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Jared called out for her, and it sounded like he was in a big hurry.”

  “I’ve got a little news for you, too. The car that sideswiped his was probably a ’98 Blazer. Ever had a fender bender involving that make and color?”

  “No.”

  “Know anyone with a green Blazer?”

  She thought for a moment. “I don’t think so, but I don’t really pay much attention to what people drive.”

  “One other thing. My deputy found a newspaper delivery guy who claims he saw a Blazer parked about a half mile from your clinic this morning. He figured the car had broken down but didn’t see anyone in it, so he drove on. We’re searching Department of Motor Vehicle records for a car of the same description. Hopefully, we’ll find just a few matches in the area.”

  She swallowed hard. “All of this could be connected.”

  “If it is, someone has a strong motive for revenge and was willing to kill to get it.”

  Kate’s knees turned weak. “But at least Jared’s safe here, for now.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. A deputy is coming over as soon as he can, and I’d advise you to alert hospital security. If someone does come after him, he’d be a sitting duck.”

  SHE’D BEEN COUNTING the minutes until she could go back into the ICU to sit with Jared. Now at his bedside, Kate watched the wall clock’s second hand make its way slowly around the dial. Security had been alerted to check all visitors coming into the hospital for anyone suspicious, but where was that deputy? Ten long minutes had passed without any sign of him.

  Jared stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and then he fixed his bleary gaze on her. “Kate?”

  His voice was just a rusty whisper, barely audible, but she’d never heard a more welcome sound in her life. She kissed his hand, mindful of the IV lines dangling from overhead. “Welcome back.”

  He lifted away from the pillow, winced and fell back. “I...have to tell you...”

  “Shhhhh. It’s all right. We can talk later.”

  “Patty—is she—” His voice strengthened. “Is she...”

  He was so weak, so stressed. What was the right thing to say right now? “The woman in your car? She was...hurt badly, Jared.”

  There were so many questions to ask, she didn’t know where to start. “The sheriff needs to talk to you when you’re feeling better. He needs to know her identity.”

  “I’m...” He turned away, his voice defeated. “I’m sure he does.”

  He didn’t offer further explanation. He wasn’t even going to try, and she could already sense the distance widening between them. “Jared, look at me,” she said softly.

  It took so long for him to turn back to her that she thought he might refuse.

  “The sheriff thinks someone intended to run your SUV off the road. He’s trying to figure out who it is, so if you have any idea at all, you need to let us know.”

  The almost imperceptible shake of his head was nothing more than she’d expected if he still felt he was protecting a client’s privacy.

  “Maybe that person is still after you for some reason,” she said.

  His eyes drifted shut, closing her out. But she needed to speak to him before he did.

  “We have to get some other things straight, too. I trust you, sweetheart. You’ve been my very soul since we first met in college, and I never should have doubted you. Not all those years ago, and not now. If that woman was in your car, you had a good reason, and I don’t even need to hear it. Just get better, honey, so we can get you out of this place and bring you home where you belong.”

  Someone cleared her throat, and Kate looked over her shoulder to see the nurse had returned.

  “He should get some rest,” she said. “And there’s also someone here to visit who seems awfully impatient, so maybe you’ll want to talk to him.”

  Kate started to rise from her chair, but Jared’s hand caught hers and he pulled her back, his voice thick with emotion. “Stay,” he whispered.

  The nurse appeared at Kate’s shoulder. “Sorry, doctor’s orders, but we’ll let her come back soon.”

  “I need to tell her—” He tried to sit up but winced and fell back.

  “Whatever it is, it can wait.” The nurse smiled as she picked up a syringe and injected it into the IV port. “This will help with the pain and will probably make you sleepy. Now just try to get some rest.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SEVERAL TABLE LAMPS at the far end of the waiting room had been turned off. A man stood in shadows, his back turned to the door.

  Kate felt a frisson of unease crawl down her spine. Yet hospital security had been alerted, and this man had made it in, so he must be all right.

  If she wasn’t careful, the next thing she knew, she’d be frightened by moonbeams and butterflies.

  She ventured just a few steps into the room. “Are you the gentleman who wanted to see me?”

  “Not you, your husband. I’m hoping you can help.”

  His voice held a false note of friendliness, and when he turned partway toward her, still in the shadows, her unease turned to foreboding.

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” she said. “The ICU allows families only.”

  “I just want you to tell them I can go in.” He bared his teeth in a chilling smile. “He’ll be very happy to see me, I know.”

  The man exuded danger. She dropped her hands into the pockets of her blazer and found her cell phone, thankful that it had an exposed keyboard. Fingering its surface, she found and pressed the 911 speed-dial numeral that she’d programmed for emergencies. “I guess I don’t recognize you. Are you a friend or a client?”

  His shoulders twitched. “Both. Now can you go ask the nurses, or not? I’d just walk on back there, but they’d probably call in the National Guard or something.”

  With good cause, Kate thought. Had her call gone through? Would the dispatcher’s announcement also route through the sheriff’s private number? If not, it could be a long time before anyone would figure out where she was right now.

  “Okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “Let me go ask and I’ll be right back.”

  He turned fully toward her and loomed over her, one hand fastened on something bulky in his jacket pocket. With his collar t
urned up, his ball cap pulled low over his forehead and his amber-tinted glasses, it was hard to make out his features, but he definitely wasn’t smiling now. “No. I’m coming along.”

  “It won’t do you any good. I was just told to leave, so no one can get in there for another hour. But maybe they’ll let you take my turn, okay?”

  “I can’t wait that long.” He shifted his weight from side to side. “Let’s go.”

  She frantically searched for some way to stall. “H-how did you get past security?”

  “What? You didn’t know your husband has a long-lost brother? The fool security guard didn’t even ask to see my ID.”

  If a stranger burst into the ICU, Kate had no doubt that the nurses would sound the alarm system in a flash. But even if they did, how long would it take for this man to reach Jared’s bedside? What if he was the one who’d run Jared off the road, and he had a gun hidden in that pocket?

  Stall him...find some way to stall.

  “Okay...but I have to make a quick phone call to my clinic first.”

  He grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the door. “Not now, sister.”

  “I just have to tell my vet tech to...um...adjust the dosage on an IV that’s due to run out in the next five minutes. If I don’t call in time, my staff will call security to search for me all over this hospital.” She managed a rueful smile. “They’ve done it before.”

  Swearing under his breath, he gripped her arm tighter. “Then make it quick. I don’t have all day.”

  “Only if you let go. I have to get at my phone.”

  The man hadn’t made an overt threat toward her exactly, but she could feel the waves of anger and beginnings of fear rolling off him.

  She skipped the speed dial for the clinic and laboriously punched out each digit. She misdialed the number then started again. Where were the sheriff or his deputies? Had they gotten her first call? Didn’t they usually follow up, even if the person didn’t say anything into the phone?