by Jo Davis
“Chris was the victim of poisoning.” Their identical expressions of shock stared back at her. “I ordered a full tox screen on his blood, specifically for arsenic, strychnine, and cyanide. We won’t know which one is the culprit until the tests come back.”
The tall man regained his wits first and held out his hand. “I’m sorry—I’m Captain Austin Rainey, and Chris is one of my men, along with these guys.” He nodded to the other two detectives. She shook his hand as he asked, “How the hell did this happen?”
“That’s going to be a question for the police to answer,” she said, indicating all of them. “All I can say is that it’s highly unlikely Chris arrived at a critical state of poisoning by accident. Especially since he hasn’t been well for some time and suddenly the symptoms take a dramatic turn for the worse. You could find a natural culprit in his home, a liquid or some type of chemical spill, or something slowly burning to create lethal gas, but I would be surprised if that was the case.”
“Poison,” Shane repeated, rubbing his eyes. “God, that’s insane. Evil.”
“I agree. And speaking of evil, there’s more.” She paused. “I’m more sure now than ever that the string of deaths we’ve had here at the hospital are not natural. Chris was waiting on Laura Eden to get back to him with a list of similar deaths, but she’s been out sick and a list like that can take a while to put together.”
“I’m aware of Chris’s request to the ME for that list,” the captain put in, eyes hard and angry. “I gave the okay for him to poke into the deaths, unofficially. I’ve just made it official. We’re going to find out what the fuck is going on and who’s behind it—that I can promise.”
Shane gave a humorless laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”
“I’ll see where Eden is at,” Tonio said grimly.
Robyn checked her watch. “That’s all I can tell you for now. I have to get back to my patients, particularly Chris.”
“When can I see my cousin?” Shane pressed anxiously.
“Soon,” she said gently. “Let us get him settled and his visitors can take turns. Keep it brief, though, so you don’t wear him out.”
Shane agreed and Robyn bid them good-bye for the time being.
She had a very special patient to tend to.
* * *
Consciousness returned slowly.
The first thing Chris became aware of was the deep ache. In his gut, his limbs. Everywhere in his muscles and bones as he tried to shift a little, feeling like he’d been beaten by a baseball bat.
The next thing that filtered through to his brain was his surroundings. He was lying on something soft. A mattress. He was covered by blankets, but was still cold. A shiver shook him and he tried to open his eyes. Too bright.
So he listened to distant sounds, beeps from equipment, voices, a squeaky cart rolling along a hallway. A hospital? He tried to remember what had happened before here.
His throat was raw, he discovered upon swallowing. Same with his stomach, which cramped as though the lining had been scraped with razor blades. His right hand felt heavy and, flexing his fingers, he found that the skin pulled. Cracking one eye open, he focused enough to see the IV taped to the back of his hand.
Footsteps approached, and the door opened with a quiet whoosh. Braving the light again, he blinked and found himself peering up at Robyn—who looked like she’d been crying. Her expression was also relieved.
“You’re awake,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
“Makes one of us,” he croaked. “Feel like shit.”
Her smile was watery. “I imagine you do, after what you’ve been through. Do you remember what happened?”
Frowning, he tried to recall. Bits and pieces were coming back, but the picture wasn’t making sense. “I was home. I was going to shower, but I didn’t.”
“You were feeling sick. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. It was becoming clearer. “I—I went for my cell phone. I was going to call someone.”
“You called Tonio. He said you were telling him you couldn’t come in to work, but then he heard you drop the phone and say, ‘Help me.’ You didn’t come back on the line, so he drove right over.”
“He found me?”
“Yes. He had to break down your front door, and he found you on the kitchen floor.” Pausing, she smoothed back his hair. “You were in bad shape. If he hadn’t found you when he did and called the paramedics, you wouldn’t have made it. You’d been vomiting blood and your blood pressure was so high, you were in danger of heart failure or stroking out.”
“Jesus.” His eyes widened. “What’s wrong with me? Do I . . . do I have a terminal illness or something? Be straight with me.”
Her face grew grim. “No, nothing like that. But what I found out isn’t much easier to grasp. Chris, you’re being poisoned,” she said quietly.
For several moments, he stared into her face, stunned. “What?”
“You’re a victim of cyanide poisoning—and a very lucky one at that.”
Cyanide. What. The. Fuck?
He struggled to make sense of that and couldn’t. “Isn’t that the stuff used in the CIA and spy movies and shit?”
“Yes, but it’s a more common substance than a lot of people know. It’s present in small doses in everyday items like cigarettes, fabric, and even some foods, like almonds.”
“Okay. So there’s some normal little thing in my house causing all this?” It would be weird, but a much better alternative to what he feared.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to imply. But for the sake of ruling out causes, have you been handling any chemicals in the past few weeks?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Have you been burning anything? Cyanide can be released as a lethal gas when certain materials are burned—in which case you probably would have died on the spot, but I have to ask.”
He shook his head slightly, making it swim. “No, nothing.”
“Then considering the severity of your poisoning, and the symptoms that have occurred over a period of time, getting progressively worse, I have to conclude that your poisoning was intentional.”
“Christ, that’s insane,” he whispered. “Why would anybody do that to me? How?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve got a lot of people in your corner working to find out, including me. Tonio, a couple of other detectives, and a team of crime scene techs from the department are hauling items out of your house as we speak, taking samples for testing. We might not learn the who right away, but they’ll have the how soon enough.”
His brain was engaging now, and he started to recall facts he’d learned about that particular poison. “I should have died.”
“Yes,” she said, pretty blue eyes filling with tears. “The hallmark of this poison is that it’s vicious and instantaneous. People rarely survive it. Whoever is using it knows that, and worse, knows exactly the dosage to keep you sick without killing you right away.”
“Like he was getting his kicks by torturing me.”
“Exactly. To me, this means he or she may be someone with a medical or scientific background. Someone with access to a very restricted dangerous substance. You don’t just drive to Walmart and buy cyanide.”
“So it’s highly controlled and difficult to purchase.”
She nodded. “And very traceable once you have a suspect. It’s a fact that the perpetrator is almost always caught because of the paper trail of the purchase.”
“You know more about this than me and I’m the cop.” He smiled a bit, hoping to erase those sad shadows from her eyes.
“We learned about these sorts of things in medical school. Medicine and crime do overlap from time to time, unfortunately.”
&nb
sp; Another thought hit him hard. “I’m not the only one this has happened to. I bet those suspicious deaths are related to me, somehow. If you hadn’t figured out I was poisoned, it would have looked like a heart attack.”
“Yes. We’ll have the first of the toxicology results back soon. We have yours because we rushed it to our own lab, and now we’re waiting on results for the lawyer who died to come back from Eden. He’s the most recent one before you.”
“Let me know as soon as you have them.”
“Of course.”
“When can I go home?”
“A couple of days,” she said firmly, ignoring his groan. “We’re running more tests to make sure your internal organs haven’t suffered permanent damage, particularly your heart, liver, and kidneys.”
Fear gripped his gut. “Is that common?”
“No, surprisingly. Cyanide is metabolized quickly by the body in lower doses, and filtered from the person’s system. Thus its use in common items like cigarettes. It’s a very strange poison. Lethal in large doses, yet almost impotent in smaller ones, leaving little to no damage. You were straddling the line, so to speak.”
He relaxed into the pillows, exhaustion taking over. “I guess I can’t complain too much. Could’ve been worse.”
“Exponentially.” Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his. “Get some rest.”
“Okay.”
She left and he drifted off again. His dreams were troubled, frightening.
Because the immediate danger was past, but it was far from over.
* * *
The next morning, Robyn walked in to check on her sexy patient. Going home and leaving him at the hospital all night was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But her mind was eased by the cop posted outside his door.
Seemed that the higher-ups at the Sugarland PD took the attempted murder of one of their own very seriously. They weren’t leaving anything to chance—even the food brought to Chris’s room was closely monitored from preparation to serving.
Chris was lying on his back sleeping. She took a moment to study him, and emotion clogged her throat and made it burn. Her mind was a whirl of confusion now that the immediate danger to him was past. Their evening together at his house, his declaration of wanting all of her, even her daughter, as his own, filled her with wonder.
It also made her very afraid, because this thing between them was suddenly getting very real. She and Maddy had both heard promises before. Greg had promised to get well. Claimed he was getting better. Stronger.
He’d left them anyway, and that sort of pain and heartbreak didn’t simply vanish. His death had left a ragged hole inside her that she’d believed would never be filled. In truth, she had been sure she never wanted it to be. Letting others in was dangerous. Too risky.
Then she’d met a handsome detective with brown-gold hair and big brown eyes, and he was trying to break down those defenses.
On the bed, Chris stirred, and her trepidation was put aside. His eyes opened slowly and his face brightened as he blinked at her sleepily. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” she said softly, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. What’s the verdict on me?”
“Your organs are clear and functional,” she said. “No permanent damage.”
“Thank God. Check me out, Doc, I’m ready to split.” He sat up eagerly, then winced.
“Not so fast, hon. You’re still recovering and you don’t want to end up back in here because you were pushing too soon. Right?”
“I know,” he said, pouting a little. “I won’t push, I promise. I just want out of here.”
“You will be. One condition, though: you’re not going home. You’ll stay with me and Maddy until the suspect is caught.” Whether she was afraid of letting him into her life permanently or not, there was no way she was sending him back into a dangerous environment.
He frowned. “That could be indefinitely. What if he’s never apprehended? Or worse, what if he comes after me at your house? No way will I put you and Maddy in danger.”
She thought about that. “He could come after us anyway. I think I’d feel a lot safer with a cop in the house.”
He paled. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’m not letting him get near you or Maddy. The sooner he’s caught and put in prison, the better.”
“I have faith that he will be. In the meantime, you’ll be away from the source of your illness, getting pampered by two doting girls. How can you top that?”
“Mmm, you’re right. I can’t. Will you make me chicken soup?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
Just then Tonio walked in wearing a broad smile. He was a stunning man, though in her eyes he had nothing on Chris. He seemed like a good friend, though he attempted to hide behind a wall of stoicism. The man gave Chris a small smile as he went to his bedside.
“Hey. I came to see you yesterday and brought you some clothes, but you were zonked. Had no clue I was here.”
“Sorry about that. I hear I owe you a huge thanks for saving my ass.” Chris smiled. “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it. Just don’t pull that shit again. You scared the hell out of me.” Tonio glanced between Chris and Robyn. “You got a place to stay when they let you go? If not, you can crash at my apartment.”
“Thanks, but I just agreed to stay with Robyn until my house is cleared.”
Tonio shot Robyn a speculative look. “Oh, okay. That’s cool.”
“How’s it coming with the testing on the stuff they took from my house?”
“Slow. I’ll let you know when they pinpoint the source, believe me. I want that bastard caught and punished for what he did to you.”
Except for in the emergency room, this was the most emotion Robyn had seen him express in the few times they’d met.
“Me, too. It takes a pretty sick mind to do something like this. There’s no telling how many people he’s killed and how many are suffering.”
“True. And by the way, speaking of the sicko, the clothes I brought for you are from the mall. Couldn’t risk bringing your own clothes until the techs are done with them.”
“Jeez, I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. So forget it.” Tonio clamped a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Listen, I’m going to go for now. I’ll be back later, or I’ll come by the doc’s house if you’ve been discharged once I have some news.”
“That works. Thanks again.”
“Anytime.”
After the other detective left, a surge of visitors from the station came to his room. Word was obviously out that Chris was better. Robyn had to make rounds but kept an eye on the flow of people. Finally she shooed the last of them out and ordered the nurses to make sure he rested.
The next day, the final round of Chris’s tests came back clear, and she decided to discharge him with some restrictions. First and foremost, he had to rest for a few days, no argument. She had a feeling he’d agree to just about anything to be able to leave.
She managed to time his release with her getting off shift, and after he was dressed in the fresh clothes Tonio brought him, a nurse wheeled him out to her car.
Almost as soon as the car began moving, Chris leaned his head against the window and passed out. She felt so bad for him, but she’d help him all she could.
At home, she had to wake him to get him out of the car and inside. Even though Rachel rushed to help her—with Maddy fluttering around thinking she was helping—it was still quite a challenge to get him into the guest bedroom. Once they did, he went out like a light again, and so the three of them tiptoed out to let him sleep.
Maddy had a hundred questions about what was wrong with Chris and why he was there. She might be only seven, but she was a smart girl and knew something
was wrong. Keeping it simple, Robyn told her Chris was sick and couldn’t stay home alone. Truth enough. Maddy accepted that and threw herself into the role of caregiver with relish.
Robyn smiled in spite of herself, putting her feet up in her easy chair for a bit. Maddy really loved Chris. And the feeling appeared to be mutual. Throughout the evening, he woke up to ask where the little munchkin was, and she’d magically appear with tea or water to help him feel better. He declared it did, and Maddy was happy.
Only after Maddy was in bed did Robyn sneak down the hallway to the guest room. There, she closed and locked the door and slid underneath the sheets with him. As she did, something he’d said to her before he’d gotten sick came rushing back. I want all of you, Robyn. Even if she was afraid of saying those words back to him, she couldn’t deny to herself that she felt the same way: she wanted all of Chris. She held him all night long, grateful beyond words that she still could.
They had to catch the murdering bastard soon. The connections had to be made soon.
And Robyn hoped like hell she would be the one to do it.
9
Chris awoke to an unfamiliar bedroom, and it took him a few minutes to get his bearings. Rolling over, he pressed his face into the pillow and postponed getting out of bed as long as possible.
At least until he recalled Robyn sliding in next to him last night, and that made him wonder where she’d gone. Maybe he’d slept so long, she’d taken Maddy to school and had gone to work already.
Curiosity propelled him to push himself upright. He sat for a moment, testing the waters just in case he got sick or dizzy. When neither of those things happened, he got out of bed and stood. So far, so good.
By the time he got to the en suite bathroom, he realized he was still tired and a bit weak. The cyanide had done a number on him for sure. Nothing he couldn’t overcome, though, with another day of rest. Moving slowly, he showered and dressed in some jeans and a T-shirt.
Then he went in search of Robyn. And coffee. What he found was one of those fancy one-cup automatic machines and several types of brew to choose from. But no Robyn. A piece of paper on the kitchen table caught his attention, and he walked over to read it.