Concern clouded her pretty eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about his mother. How awful. What happened?”
Dylan set his jaw. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. For now, do you need a ride?”
She cocked her head at him. “I was going to take a cab.”
His smile reappeared. “All the way from Bryson City to Rose Mountain?”
She flushed. “Oh. How far away are we?”
“About thirty minutes.”
“I guess I’m more used to big-city living than small-town.”
“Which big city are you from?”
“Atlanta.”
A soft whistle escaped him. “Wow, you’re serious when you say big city, aren’t you? What brought you to our little mountain town?”
A frown furrowed her forehead. “Let’s just say I needed a change. The slower-paced lifestyle appeals to me.”
Well, that was good news. That might mean she planned on staying for a while. He lifted a brow. “So? You want a ride?”
“Um … sure. Let me just get my things.”
A knock sounded at the door and Dylan moved to pull it open. A large man decked out in green scrubs pushed a wheelchair. He flashed her a bright smile. “Your limo is ready.”
Paige frowned. “I don’t need a chair.”
“Hospital regulations, ma’am.”
Dylan watched the frown slide off to be replaced with resignation. “Fine.”
After she was settled, the three of them left the room. Dylan jogged ahead to get the car and pull it around.
Once Paige was in the passenger seat, Dylan asked, “Where am I going?”
She gave a little laugh—and winced.
He frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, now stop asking. I live on Mockingbird Lane in Knightsbridge Subdivision.”
He lifted a brow. “That’s not too far from where Will and I live.” A surge of elation slid through him at the idea of her living so close to him. Then he wondered why it mattered. But it did. The attraction he felt for her, the connection she seemed to have with Will—both excellent reasons for keeping her nearby.
“So, Dr. Seabrook, you didn’t have to see patients today?”
Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. Grabbing it from the clip on his side, he said, “Hello?”
“Where are you, Dylan?” Margaret, his secretary and friend from church. They’d dispensed with formalities when he’d hired her after her husband had died of a massive heart attack.
He frowned. “Taking a friend home from the hospital. What’s wrong?”
“I have a young man standing here who said you promised to meet him this morning to give him a reference letter.”
Dylan racked his brain—and found what he was looking for. “I totally forgot. I have it all ready. I just need to print and sign it. Tell him if he can give me about thirty minutes, I’ll be there.”
“You got it. See you then.”
He looked over at his passenger. “Is your head all right? Do you mind if we swing by my office when we get into town?”
She shrugged. “Fine with me.”
“I promised a reference letter for a very promising young man in my church. He wants to get into medical school, and I think he’d make an excellent doctor.”
Thirty-five minutes later, Dylan pulled into the parking lot and noticed one of his partners, Graham Bailey, hadn’t arrived yet. The man was going through a pretty messy divorce and his days seemed to start later and later. Henry Satterfield, his other partner, would field patients until Graham arrived. Dylan had already requested time off to be with Will, so no one expected him to be there.
Dylan entered the building with Paige right behind him. Margaret Rogers, his efficient as always, salt-and-pepper-haired secretary in her early sixties sat at her desk fielding calls. She pointed to the young man sitting in the waiting room.
Two women with toddlers chatted in the children’s corner. A teenager slumped on the couch, his hat pulled low over his eyes.
Dylan nodded and turned to speak when Margaret hung up the phone with more force than needed. He looked back at her. “What is it?”
“Doctor Bailey won’t be in today. He’s sick.” She kept her expression clear, her voice in a monotone, but he could see the disgust in her eyes.
“Okay, let me take care of this, then I’ll … figure something out about Graham.” He made quick introductions. “Paige, Margaret Rogers and Kyle Barrett. Margaret and Kyle, this is Paige.”
Kyle nodded. The women greeted each other while Dylan walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Give me a minute, Kyle. The letter is sitting on my computer, I just need to print it off and sign it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Kyle sat and Dylan made his way down the hall to his office.
Twisting the doorknob, he stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt.
In shock, he took in the mess that had been his spotless office less than twenty-four hours earlier.
The gasp behind him made him turn to see Paige staring over his shoulder. Then she looked up at him and raised a brow. “You either need to fire your cleaning crew or call the police.”
Even after the sheriff arrived, Kyle hovered in the background, eyes wide like saucers. “Looks like the tornado sirens should have sounded.”
While Paige watched the officer take notes on the scene, Margaret clucked like a mother hen, muttering under her breath. Paige listened to Dylan give a statement and clamped her teeth on her tongue. Itching to be a part of the investigation, she told herself to cool it. That wasn’t going to happen.
But she couldn’t help sidling up next to Dylan and asking, “Who would do this?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. This is crazy.” He gestured to the uniformed man. “Paige, this is a good friend of mine, Sheriff Eli Brody.”
She nodded, then asked, “How did whoever did this get in?”
Eli shook his head. “We’re working on figuring that out.”
Margaret huffed. “Well, I’m usually the last to leave and I always set the alarm.”
Dylan smiled at her. “No one is questioning your competence.” He looked thoughtful and then shook his head.
Paige’s gaze went back to the office. The overturned chair, the dumped drawers. “It looks like someone was looking for something.”
“Sure does.”
Dylan shrugged. “But what? Drugs? Any junkie would know they’re not kept in an office.”
“The drug cabinet wasn’t touched as far as I can tell,” Margaret offered. “I just checked.”
Paige looked at Dylan. “Has anyone threatened you or Will?”
He blinked. “No. Why?”
Okay, that answered that question. “What about your prescription pads?”
Cocking his head, he looked at the sheriff. “Do you mind if I look?”
“I’ve already dusted the desk. Go ahead.”
Dylan walked behind the desk, inserted a small key into the top drawer and gave the handle a tug. Looking in, he shook his head. “Everything’s in order.”
The sheriff blew out a sigh. “All right.”
Paige’s eyes bounced back and forth between the men. Would no one say it? She bit her lip. Should she bring it up?
“You … uh … don’t suppose there’s a connection between the car trying to run Will down and this break-in, do you?”
Both men looked startled. “Why would you ask that?”
She gave a sheepish shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s just weird that both things happened so close to each other.”
Sheriff Brody looked thoughtful. His forehead wrinkled as he ran his hand through his thick dark hair. Intuitive green eyes examined his friend. “You got any enemies, Dylan?”
“No.” He gave a humorless laugh. “No way. I mean, who would do something so awful as to actually try to run Will down?” He looked sick. “That’s just … crazy.”
“Crazier things have been done,” P
aige murmured.
He simply looked at her.
“Do you have any patients you’ve made mad recently?” the sheriff asked.
Dylan looked blindsided, she thought, even as she waited for his answer.
He gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t … know. Maybe.”
“Could be you were the intended target with that car. The person who almost ran down Will could have thought you were going to be crossing with him,” Paige said before she could bite her tongue.
Sheriff Brody crossed his arms across his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. “You have some law enforcement training?”
Paige gulped and chastised herself for making such a rookie mistake. She forced a laugh. “I watch a lot of television. Crime shows are my favorite.”
His eyebrows lowered and he glowered. She could read his thoughts. Great, another cop wannabe.
One day she’d tell him the truth. For now, she was going to shut up. Besides, her head was really starting to pound. Nausea swirled and she knew she needed to lie down. “Dylan, do you think you could take me home now?”
He started. “Sure.” Then looked at the sheriff. “Are you done with me?”
“Yeah.” The man waved a hand in dismissal. “Go on. I’ll let you know if we find anything here.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Holly at the doctor’s office in Bryson City. We’re having our first ultrasound.” He looked extraordinarily pleased to share that information.
Paige smiled through her pain. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He peered closer at Paige then said to Dylan, “She’s not looking so great. You better get some meds in her before she passes out.”
Dylan turned and stopped fast enough to cause Paige to bump into him. Pain exploded through her. As it eased, with her nose buried in his back, she couldn’t help noticing his yummy-smelling cologne. She backed up in a hurry and swallowed hard.
He turned and smiled down at her. “Sorry.” Then he motioned for the young man who’d come to collect his reference letter. “I’m sorry, I can’t access my computer right now. I have a copy of it on my home computer. Is it all right if we try again later?”
“Sure. You’ve got my cell number. Just give me a shout when you want me to come pick it up.”
Dylan and Paige made their way out to his car. She slid in, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and new-car smell. The sun beat down, warming the interior of the car to an uncomfortable temperature. She lowered her window and he flipped on the air-conditioning. “Sorry to pull you away,” she told him. “My head is really hurting.”
“No problem. I wasn’t doing anyone any good just standing around watching them work.” He shot her a worried look. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”
“No, it’s just a headache.” The nausea had faded.
Red flashing lights jerked her attention to the side mirror. A fire truck approached, sirens screaming. Dylan’s face paled, and his hands clenched the wheel so tight his knuckles went white. He pulled to the side and let the truck fly past. For a moment, he just sat there, not moving.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
He blinked. “Yeah.” His hoarse voice said otherwise. “Tell me how to find your house.”
She gave him the directions, then asked, “That fire truck really sparked some memories, didn’t it?”
“They always do. I can’t see one without …” He broke off and swallowed.
“Will you tell me more about the fire that killed Will’s mother?”
FOUR
Eyes on the road, Dylan blinked at the question, then supposed it was only natural that she ask. Still, it threw him. Then again, she seemed to have some sort of connection with Will, so maybe it wasn’t so odd she’d want to know more about the boy’s mother. He gathered his scattered nerves and said, “Sandra was my sister. She was a good mom. Most of the time.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Dylan.” She paused. “What do you mean most of the time?”
“She did drugs.” Blunt, straight to the point.
“Oh, my. Poor Will.”
“Yes. At first, it wasn’t like she was an out of control junkie. She was more recreational than anything, but …” He bit his lip.
“She ended up hooked?”
He drew in a deep breath. “In a big way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Anyway, she had this new boyfriend that seemed to be making a big impact on her. Larry something. He was a math teacher out at the high school. Sandra did a lot of subbing at all three schools in town. But I remember her coming over one night and telling me about this great guy. And she was going to change her life. I only met Larry a few times.” A smile crossed his lips.
“What’s the smile for?”
He shook his head. “Just thinking about the two of them. I was really skeptical when she first told me about him. Figured he was just another drug source, but he wasn’t. I could tell he was clean the moment I met him, and he really did seem to care about Sandra. In fact, they reminded me of a couple of teenagers who’d just discovered true love.”
“True love?” She sounded skeptical.
Dylan eyed her from the corner of his eye then asked softly, “What? You don’t believe in true love?” He really didn’t have the right to ask, but he wanted to know. Even though his experience with Erica had cut deep, he still felt like God had the right person in mind for him.
He couldn’t help wondering if that person was Paige.
He could feel her embarrassment as she cleared her throat. “Maybe. For some people.”
“But not for you?”
A pause. “This isn’t about me,” she finally answered, sounding subdued. “So Sandra and Larry were in love?”
Making a mental note to come back to her feelings about love, he let her direct him back to the topic. “I don’t know, but Sandra finally seemed happy. Like she’d gotten rid of a few of her demons. Larry even got her going to church. And Will was crazy about the guy …” He sighed. “But I just … don’t know … It was hard for me to hope because … she was still Sandra, you know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
Dylan glanced at her. “You sound like you mean that. Is someone you love a drug addict?”
Paige flinched and he reached over to touch her shoulder. The warm zing that skittered up his arm surprised him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to find a painful subject. Are you okay?”
She placed a hand to her head. “Um, yes, just a headache. I’ll take one of those painkillers as soon as I get home and sleep for a couple of hours. That should do the trick.”
Dylan frowned at her but let that explanation work for now. He had a feeling she’d been going to say something else and had decided against it. He didn’t let it bother him. He usually wasn’t so open with people he’d only just met, but there was just something about Paige, something that made him want to explore the possibility of a relationship.
Plus, he had Will to think of. What if Will’s reaction to Paige was just a fluke? Then again, what if it wasn’t? Their connection seemed real.
He had to keep Paige around in order to find out. Of course, with the way he was attracted to her, it was obvious that wasn’t going to be a hardship. At least not for him.
He cut those thoughts off as she directed him to turn into the drive of a small, yet cozy-looking house with gray vinyl siding and green shutters. “Ah, you rented this from the Jacksons, didn’t you?”
“Yes. My … brother found it for me.”
“Well, I know they’re relieved to have it rented. They’ve had some serious financial difficulties since he was laid off six months ago. Rose Mountain is a great little town, but unfortunately, it doesn’t offer much in the way of employment unless you have a specialty.”
“Like medicine?”
He smiled. “Like medicine—or teaching. Or owning your own business.” He turned the engine off and started to climb out.
“You don’t have to get
out. I can make it.”
He knew she could, but for some reason he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. “Do you mind if I see you in? Make sure you have everything you need?”
She narrowed her eyes and he held his breath until she said, “Sure. Thanks.”
The joy that stirred in his heart didn’t shock him at this point, but it did make him remind himself to take it easy. His heart ignored the reminder and thumped faster.
He followed Paige up the steps to the covered porch. She slid the key in the lock and opened the door. “My garage door opener is in the car.” She froze. “My bike! I totally forgot to ask anyone about it.”
Dylan grimaced. “I’m afraid it was pronounced dead at the scene.” He flushed. “But I told Principal Bridges I would keep it at my house until you could decide what you wanted to do with it. The dump is probably the best place for it.”
She eyed him and he squirmed under her gaze. She asked, “It’s that bad?”
“Trust me. It’s that bad.”
She sighed. “Okay. I’ll come by and take a look at it when I’m feeling a little better.”
A bush rustled to her left and she shot a glance over her shoulder. Visions of the car speeding into the school crosswalk flashed momentarily, and she blinked.
Another rustle. An animal? A neighbor child playing hide-and-seek?
Dylan must have heard it, too, as he turned to look at the bush.
She tensed. Or something more sinister?
The bush shook and she heard—a sneeze?
She moved toward the sound. “Whoever you are, you better come out now, or I’m calling the police.”
Absolute stillness.
Paige narrowed her eyes. Was she being paranoid? Dylan walked up the steps of the porch and grabbed the broom she’d left next to the door.
Coming back down, he flipped it so the handle pointed toward the shrubbery.
Paige’s adrenaline rushed through her as he poked into the bush.
A grunt sounded. “Ouch! Stop!”
Tempted to run inside and grab her gun, she ignored the feeling. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone. “You have two seconds to show yourself or I’m calling the cops. I—”
Agent Undercover Page 3