by Lynn, Janice
She could have died.
An invisible hand grabbed his throat and clamped down. Hard. It wasn’t because it was Jessie. He’d feel the same regardless of who lay in that bed.
But it had been Jessie.
He cornered a nurse, and despite the fact it was against hospital policy, knew Jessie’s drug screen came back positive, and that she’d be okay once the narcotic cleared from her system.
Fool that he was he’d had to see her, had to place his hand on her and feel the rise and fall of her chest. Warmth seeped into him, the thin material of her hospital gown providing little barrier to Jessie’s heat.
Her eyelids flickered open.
“Colin.” His name slurred from her mouth.
“Shhh.” Why he comforted her when she’d done this to herself he didn’t know, but comfort her he did, running his fingers down her arm to her tubeless hand. Once there, he laced his fingers with hers.
Pain etched its way through him. How could she have done this to herself? Done this to him?
Her green eyes stared hazily, her pupils dilated, her face lax. “Colin.” She squeezed his hand.
Memories from the past sped his pulse. Not memories, nightmares. Nightmares he’d relived in vivid color when Jessie collapsed.
He wanted to shake her, demand to know why. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, promise her he’d never let anything happen to her. He did neither.
“I didn’t.” Jessie’s eyes closed. Her face screwed up, whether in pain or confusion he wasn’t sure.
“You didn’t?” he prompted, needing to know what she wanted to say. Needing to hear her voice as it provided reassurance that she hadn’t suffered the same fate as Karen.
“No drugs.” Her grip relaxed, and he knew she slept again.
No drugs. What was she trying to tell him? Not trying, telling him. She was saying she hadn’t taken any drugs. The report said otherwise. Her behavior said otherwise.
Yet, he believed her. Perhaps because he wanted to so badly. If she told the truth, how had large traces of a narcotic been found in her bloodstream?
* * *
J.P. hated the waiting. Always had. Jill and Rob didn’t like it any more than he did and Jill paced across the waiting room. She had managed to corner a doctor to find out the basics, but they still hadn’t been allowed to see Jessie.
Two women, one of which held a squirming kid, cast curious glances their way, then whispered back and forth, pointing at Jill.
J.P. cursed under his breath.
The whole world recognized her face. Rob’s, too. Didn’t she know to lay low in front of people? The media would be printing this stuff within the hour. Probably some garbage about the premier reality television couple being pregnant so soon following their wedding. Hell, they’d just gotten back from their honeymoon this morning.
“Come on,” he suggested, standing from the uncomfortable waiting room chair and silently cursing the snap, crackle, pop of his joints. “Let’s get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.”
“I don’t want a—” but Jill tapered off at Rob’s pointed glance at the other waiting room occupants. She sighed and took his hand in hers, a look of understanding passing between them. “Coffee sounds great.”
J.P. followed Rob and Jill out of the waiting room and down the long hallway to a cafeteria. They got coffee, then sat at a table far from everyone else.
They sat in silence, sipping their coffee, discussing Jessie, praying the doctor was right and she’d be okay. J.P.’s cell phone rang, and he stepped away to take the call. Maxwell.
Damn man planned to storm the hospital if someone didn’t tell him what was going on. Like J.P knew. But something weird was going on at Wolf. Something besides his hostess getting high and passing out during a taping in front of a live audience.
J.P. hung up from Maxwell and called Beverly’s cell, ordering her to issue a press release that Jessie had been hospitalized for exhaustion, but would be okay with rest. Then he spoke with a few other key Wolf players to make sure the incidence on today’s show would be handled appropriately, protecting Jessie from any negative media. At least as much as he could protect.
What had she been thinking to come on the show high?
J.P. ended the call, got a coffee refill and sank back into his chair. Jill watched him and after a few minutes knocked him for a loop.
“Do you think someone drugged her?”
It would explain a helluva lot. But it would have to be someone at Wolf. Someone who had access to her coffee. And that begged the question of why?
She was one of those bubbly people who everyone loved. Thinking of Maxwell, he decided maybe people, men in particular, loved her a bit too much.
Marian was the only person he could think of who wasn’t a solid Jessie Davidson fan, but Marian wasn’t the type to drug someone. Especially since Jessie seemed oblivious to Maxwell’s advances and merely treated him as a favorite uncle these days.
“I don’t know,” he finally said, preparing himself for the verbal attack just as he spotted Colin entering the cafeteria.
He looked around, spotted them, and headed in their direction.
Colin. Unease crept up J.P.’s esophagus and set every one of his six ulcers—-one for each wife—-on fire.
No, that was a crazy thought. Colin wouldn’t have drugged Jessie. He didn’t want her off the show that badly.
Jill turned to see who he stared at. Her astute gaze narrowed. “What?” She returned her attention to J.P. and gave him a glare that would make a hardened criminal squirm. “Did he do it? Don’t lie, because I saw your face when he walked in.”
“Don’t go tossing out accusations. Colin insisted upon taking Jessie to the hospital.” Not that they wouldn’t have anyway, but Colin carried Jessie to his car and had J.P. drive them to the hospital while he kept a close watch on her breathing and heart rate. J.P. couldn’t recall ever having seen Colin so gaunt. So hellishly pale.
Of course, Wolf had a no drug policy and did random screenings. If Jessie got caught using, she’d be fired. Had Colin decided to take matters in to his own hands and get Jessie off the show for good? Then insured the incident would be documented beyond denial by taking her to the hospital?
Jill crumbled a paper napkin between her clenched fingers. “Are they involved?”
J.P. met Jill’s green glare and shrugged. “Not really.”
“Which means they are.” She tossed the napkin onto the table. “What am I saying? We’re talking about Jessie. Of course, they’re involved.”
“You’ve been distracted since getting back from Europe. Think about it, Jill, and you might be surprised at your sister’s new outlook on life,” J.P. advised, before smiling up at Colin. “Colin.”
Colin didn’t return the smile. “How is she? They won’t tell me a damn thing.”
Something about the way the boy held his shoulders told J.P. Colin knew everything they did about Jessie’s prognosis, more.
“Join the club,” Jill muttered under her breath.
“Where did you go?” J.P asked. He’d been surprised when Colin disappeared once the doctor told them she’d come to and would be fine. That had been about a couple of hours ago. Colin left almost immediately afterwards. Highly surprising after the way he’d guarded over Jessie, refusing to leave her side until the doctor threatened to call security if he didn’t.
Where had he been?
Colin quasi-shrugged and pulled a chair to the end of their table and sat. The scraping noise of the metal leg against the tile grated on J.P.’s nerves. Or perhaps it was the suspicions dancing in his head that grated.
The fact Colin didn’t sit in the empty chair on the other side of J.P. spoke volumes to Colin’s distraction level.
“Back to the studio. I wanted to get the coffee mug she’d drank out of.”
J.P.’s gaze widened. Colin had gone after Jessie’s coffee mug? “Why?”
Colin’s cold gaze connected with J.P.’s. “Because that�
��s when she started acting strange. After she started drinking that damn coffee. She was fine until then.”
J.P. thought back. Jessie had acted normal when they’d talked in the hallway moments before she’d entered the studio. He hadn’t suspected a thing. She’d been excited about his approving a quickie spot on the show for Tamara. Any high had been natural.
“Can you recall a single time when Jessie’s finished off her coffee?” Colin asked, pulling J.P. from his thoughts.
He hadn’t paid any attention to Jessie’s coffee drinking habits. Apparently, Colin had. Then again, Colin had been an investigative journalist. Noticing details was second nature. Noticing details about Jessie dealt with a different aspect of nature all together, though. A sexual nature.
“Jessie only pretends to like that coffee.” Colin laid his hands on the table, stared at J.P.’s cup of brew. “I swear she doesn’t even like the stuff, but today she drank every drop like it was chocolate syrup. Which I found odd even before she started acting strange.”
“Did you get the cup?” Jill interrupted, causing Colin to face her, really look at her for the first time, and do a double take. Although Jill’s hair was darker than Jessie’s the resemblance between the two sisters was startling.
J.P. hadn’t realized the two hadn’t met, but then, Jill had only gotten back from her honeymoon today. He’d hated calling Rob to tell him Jessie was in the hospital. He’d have hated facing his friend even more had he not called and something permanent happened to Jessie.
“No.” Colin shook his head. “It was gone. Mine was still where I left it, but Jessie’s empty cup wasn’t there. I sent my cup to a lab where a friend of mine works, but I don’t expect them to find anything. Not from my cup.”
Jill’s eyes closed. “Someone drugged her.”
“She’s awake again?”
J.P. shook his head, sure now that Colin had spoken with Jessie, or at least to the doctor in private. Perhaps both.
“The doctor said she may come and go all night while her body clears the narcotic. They’ve given her something to ease her withdrawals.”
“Hell,” was all Colin said.
J.P. stared at him, along with Jill and Rob. The boy looked bad, tormented. But then, J.P. supposed he would, considering his history.
It made sense, but the situation could play to Colin’s favor.
The thought Colin had easy access to Jessie’s cup, that he’d gone back for the mug, that he had a history of being present during a woman’s over-dose, and that Colin wanted Jessie off the show niggled at J.P.’s overactive imagination.
Despite not wanting to, he couldn’t help but be suspicious.
After all, Colin had sent Jessie to his office when she’d found the spray paint. And he’d been late on the day she’d been electrocuted leading Jessie to be the one to do the sound checks.
J.P. pulled an ever-present cigar from his pocket, sighed when he remembered he was inside a hospital that no doubt had a no smoking policy, and stuck the Cuban in his mouth to chew on the end.
Had all the problems on the set been a set up? Problems Colin orchestrated?
* * *
Frustrated that Jessie’s sister treated him like the enemy and wasn’t going to let him anywhere near her, Colin decided to head back to the station. He’d see if he could turn up anything suspicious. Perhaps one of the cameramen caught something on tape that the security team missed.
Right outside the emergency room exit, he ran into a nervous appearing Beverly. Surprised to see her, Colin nodded in acknowledgement.
“Is she okay?” Beverly glanced down the hallway, looking ready to take flight at a moment’s notice.
“The doctors say she will be.” He’d feel a whole helluva lot better if he’d been able to see her again. Short of sneaking back in, which he’d considered, then dismissed, he wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near her tonight.
“Thank God.”
Something in Beverly’s tone made Colin take a closer look. Beverly worked on his show for about a year before the transition to Causing a Commotion took place.
She’d never stood out in his mind one way or another. She got her work done, was efficient, and sort of blended with the background. If asked, he’d have said he liked her. She’d always been friendly enough, but not overtly so.
Thinking back, she had acted a bit strange over the past few months, but then, who hadn’t with all the changes to the show?
Remembering her comments regarding some of Jessie’s hare-brained ideas, Colin supposed Beverly hadn’t been any more comfortable with the changes than he had.
“J.P.’s in the waiting room, along with Jessie’s family.” A sister who could be a twin, but oddly enough didn’t stir his blood at all. How could that be when they were almost identical?
Beverly shot another leery glance down the hallway. “No, I don’t want to wait. I’m not even sure why I came.” She closed her eyes briefly, met Colin’s gaze, then shifted her feet, looking all the more nervous. “I just needed to know she was going to be okay.”
“She is,” Colin said as much for himself as for his co-worker. Jessie would be okay. If he doubted it for a minute, no one could keep him out of her room. No one.
“I should be going.” Beverly glanced down the hallway again, then turned toward the exit.
“I was on my way out.” He took a step toward the double doors. “You need a lift?”
“No!” She shook her head. “I mean, no, I have my car here.”
Colin kept the scowl from wrinkling his forehead, but Beverly gave off so many warning signals she might as well have a flashing sign over her head. “I’ll walk you.”
“What?” she screeched, coming to a sharp halt. “I walked in by myself, and I can walk out. I don’t need an escort.”
“I’ll walk you all the same. This parking lot’s not well lit and there have been enough accidents to Wolf employees.”
Straight-faced, she walked the rest of the way in silence, stopping beside a beat-up Chevrolet.
“Thanks,” she said, not turning toward him and looking all the more nervous.
“Give me your keys, and I’ll unlock the door for you,” he offered.
“It’s not locked.” She tugged on the handle to prove it, opening the door enough that the light kicked on, illuminating the interior of the car.
A Wolf mug lay tossed on the front seat.
Chapter Twelve
“Jilly, this isn’t for you to figure out. Nor is it your problem.” Jessie stared at her pacing sister and wished she’d sit down in one of the two chairs occupying her hospital room.
At her sister’s stricken look, she sighed, her heart pricked with guilt. “Don’t look at me like that. I love you and appreciate your concern and help, but the police came by earlier. I’ve told them everything I know. If someone purposely drugged me, they’ll take care of it.”
Jill closed her eyes. “Someone almost killed you. I’m not going to sit back and do nothing.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to figure out what things you want to keep of Mom and Dad’s and then we’re going to sell the rest and the house.”
“We don’t have to sell the house. If money’s a problem, I can help.”
“Money isn’t a problem.” It felt so good to be able to say that. “I’m not going to want to live there, Jill. And, with that mausoleum Rob owns here in the city and with the house y’all are building on the outskirts of San Padre, you’re not going to want to either.”
“Jess-”
“I mean it, Jill. We should sell,” when Jill opened her mouth to protest, Jessie added, “I’ll be fine. I like living with Tamara and being in the city is much more convenient.”
“But it’s not home.”
“Neither is that empty house.”
“Oh, Jess.” Guilt contorted Jill’s face. “You needed me, and I wasn’t here.”
Jessie sighed. “No, I don’t need you. I love you,” she quickly clarified at Jill’s hurt e
xpression, “but I’m a grown woman and can deal with my own problems.”
Her sister sighed. “But I worry like crazy.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Like that’s something new?”
Jill smiled. “You do have a point.”
“Of course I do, but I really am going to be just fine. You worry about taking care of your new husband.”
“Tell me about this co-host you mentioned last night when that doctor finally let me in to see you.”
“Colin?” Was her voice casual enough? She was going for casual. Very casual, because otherwise Jilly would see right through her. “What did I say?”
“That you wanted to jump his bones.”
“Oh, that.” Jessie sighed in relief, hoping that was all she’d said. “Yeah, well, if you’ve seen him, you’d understand why.”
“I have seen him.”
Sirens sounded in her head. “On our show?”
“There, but in person, too.”
“He was here?” Jessie guessed. She had a vague memory of Colin being in the room with her, of him brushing her hair back and kissing her temple, of him whispering promises and words of endearment.
But that couldn’t be right.
“He came last night.”
“He did?” That hadn’t been casual sounding. Had Colin really been in her room or had she imagined it? She tried to clarify her hazy memory and couldn’t. Actually, she didn’t remember anything about the day before. Not from the time she’d sat down to record Causing a Commotion until when she’d awakened this morning. Only that hazy dream of Colin.