The Suicide Club

by Gayle Wilson

  It wasn’t until she raised her eyes from her unthinking assessment that she understood what had elicited the doctor’s remark about luck. The scars were on the opposite side of Jace’s chest from where the nurse was working, one just above the bulge of his pectoral, the other near the top of the rib cage. Red and puckered in contrast to the smooth, brown skin that surrounded them, even to a layman’s eye it was obvious the marks had been made by bullets.

  “You okay?” Jace asked, his dark eyes concerned.

  “Just some smoke irritation. What about you?”

  “A couple of cinders burned through my shirt.”

  “I can give you one to wear home,” the resident offered.

  “I’d be grateful.”

  “There you go,” the nurse said, pressing the last of the tape across the bottom of the pad. “Don’t get ’em wet for a couple of days.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You got somebody to call that can come get you?” the doctor asked.

  They’d ridden over with the paramedics. Lindsey hadn’t even thought about her car back in the stadium lot. She assumed Jace hadn’t either. “I could call my dad.”

  “The department will send a car,” Jace said, obviously reading the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. He eased down off the table, rolling the shoulder the nurse had just bandaged.

  “If the burns don’t seem to be healing when you take off the dressing in a couple of days, you need to come back.”

  “They’ll be fine.”

  “You get those on the job?” the resident asked, nodding toward the reddened scars on Jace’s chest.

  “You said you had a shirt I could borrow.”

  “In my locker. I’ll get it.”

  “Thanks.”

  The nurse had gathered up the materials she’d used to treat the burns. She handed Jace a tube of ointment. “You might as well have this. It’s just going in the trash.”

  “Thanks.”

  The nurse smiled at Lindsey. “Keep him out of trouble. Not that that’ll be easy from the looks of him.”

  “I will,” Lindsey agreed, feeling like a fool as she said it. “Thank you.”

  The nurse followed the resident out the door, leaving them alone. Obviously, the medical personnel believed their relationship was very different from the one that existed between them. One strained by the argument they’d had the night Jace thought someone had broken into her house.

  Another time Jace had come to her rescue, she realized. As he had tonight. “Thank you.”

  She couldn’t remember if she’d told him that at the stadium. He’d been too intent on grilling her about who’d been around the booth before the fire. Still, he had probably saved her life, and she needed to express her gratitude.

  “Somebody else would have broken down that door.”

  “Maybe. Eventually. But you were the one who did.” And at no small cost to himself. She suspected from his earlier behavior that he prefer she not make reference to the burns. Just as he’d ignored the resident’s question about the scars. “I am truly very grateful.”

  Jace was saved from having to respond when the door opened again. In his hand the doctor held a faded black T-shirt.

  “My workout shirt. Old, but clean. Actually, it’s just out of the dryer.”

  “I’ll send it back to you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s old.”

  “Thanks.” Jace took the shirt and slipped his hands into the sleeves.

  Lindsey was close enough that she heard the intake of breath when he raised his arms to pull it over his head and then down across his chest. The thin knit, which was probably loose on the lanky frame of the young doctor, clung to Jace’s body, emphasizing all the attributes she’d just mentally catalogued.

  She pulled her eyes away to smile at the resident. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Y’all take care now.” He opened the door of the exam room, allowing them to precede him into the hall. “Go to the end and take a left. That will get you back to the ambulance entrance. You can make your call from there.”

  Jace nodded, putting his hand against the small of Lindsey’s back. His touch sent a shiver up her spine, although she knew the gesture was meaningless.

  She was probably reacting so strongly because she’d just been treated to the display of his rather blatant masculinity. Or maybe it was gratitude he’d been the one willing to brave the flames. In any case, she was aware of him as a man in a way she hadn’t been since the night he’d taken her out to dinner.

  All you are to Jace Nolan is a component in his investigation of the church fires. No more and no less than you’ve ever been. Just because he happened to be the one on hand when the fire was discovered tonight doesn’t make any of this personal. He’s a cop. Protecting people is his job. And you’re an idiot if you take any of this any differently.

  The automatic door to the emergency entrance the resident had described opened before them. Jace stepped aside, allowing her to go through. Once the panel slid closed behind them, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the humid night air.

  “I can’t stand that smell.”

  “Of a hospital?”

  “You have your cell?” he asked without answering. “Mine was in the inside pocket of my blazer.”

  Which meant it had met the same fate as his jacket. Something else she owed him for. She fished around for her phone in the bottom of her purse and held it out to him.

  “I really can call my dad,” she offered again.

  “You up to dealing with that tonight?”

  She wasn’t, she realized. She didn’t even know what to tell them about what had happened. Although Jace might be convinced someone had locked her in the booth and then set it on fire, that entire scenario was still hard for her to grasp. It would be even harder for her mom and dad.

  “I should probably call them anyway. They may hear about the fire from someone else.”

  “Calling them is one thing. Having to replay what happened is another.”

  “Actually…” She hesitated, reluctant to confess that she was coward enough to have been thinking about staying with them tonight. “I’m not looking forward to going home. I mean, if you’re right about what happened at the game—”

  “I’m right.” Unequivocal.

  “Then that’s twice someone has targeted me.”

  “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “Wonder what?”

  “What you know. Or what they think you know.”

  Before she could protest the conclusion he’d come to, Jace flipped open her cell and punched in a number. After a moment he put the phone to his ear, clearly waiting for a response.

  As he did, she looked out over the parking lot, trying to figure out what she was supposed to know that had made her a target. Something about the church fires? Or about Andrea?

  “This is Nolan. I’m at Grace Regional Medical Center, at the ambulance entrance in the back. I need you to send a squad car to take me home.” He listened again, before he closed the case with a snap, holding it out to her.

  She took it automatically, her mind still working at the puzzle he’d given her. “I don’t know anything. And I don’t know why anyone would think I do.”

  “One, because you’ve been seen with me on a couple of occasions and I’m in charge of the arson investigation. Two, because as far as anyone knows, you were the last person associated with the school to see Andrea Moore alive. And, in all likelihood, the last person to talk to her before she died.”

  The last person to talk to her before she died. For some stupid reason, she hadn’t realized that.

  “That doesn’t mean I know anything about either.”

  “Someone obviously doesn’t believe that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Which meant Jace thought Andrea might have told her something important. “We talked about the test. She didn’t confide in me. If I’d had any idea
what was in her head—”

  “I came to you. So did Andrea. Obviously that’s making somebody uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable enough to want to kill me?”

  “I’m not sure either incident was intended to do that.”

  “Then…What does that mean? Exactly?”

  “As attempts at murder, they were pretty inefficient.”

  “They didn’t feel inefficient to me.”

  “Snake bites are rarely fatal. Painful and dangerous, yes. But rarely fatal. And tonight…Why pull that stunt in front of thousands of people?”

  “It wasn’t in front of them. And it almost succeeded. If it hadn’t been for you and a couple of other people—”

  “Who were there. A lot of people were there. I can’t see how anyone could believe that was going to be a successful attempt on your life.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “Another warning about keeping your mouth shut. Or an act of revenge.”

  “Revenge? For what?”

  “For talking to me.”

  She still was. She had been tonight in front of all those people. Actually, she’d stood at the back of that smoldering ticket booth with his arm around her.

  If Jace was right, and she was being targeted because of her relationship to him, the smartest thing she could do would be to have nothing else to do with him.

  She’d given him the analogy of the rattlesnake being a warning. If he was right about the fire—

  “Andrea didn’t tell me anything, Jace. I don’t have any idea why she killed herself.”

  “Would you be willing to try and re-create that conversation for me? As close to word-for-word as possible?”

  “I told you most of it this morning at school. There’s really nothing in what she said…”

  She hesitated, trying to think if she might be mistaken. Had Andrea given her a clue as to what was wrong? If so, she hadn’t picked up on it.

  “Don’t try to force it,” Jace advised. “We’ll sit down and talk about it when you’re rested.”

  She laughed, thinking how little sleep she’d managed this week. Despite having a prescription that might help, there was no way to get it filled tonight. She wasn’t going to drive to the Wal-Mart out on the highway. Not alone. Not at this time of night. Especially not after what Jace had just suggested.

  “Something funny?”

  “That whole idea of me being rested. I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than a couple of hours at a stretch. I doubt that after this tonight will be any different.”

  “You aren’t sleeping?”

  “Not since Tuesday.”

  She’d never before understood the psychological implications of sleep deprivation as a punishment. She did now.

  “You want me to stay with you tonight?”

  She admitted the offer was tempting. Despite his earlier rejection. Despite what had happened the last time he’d been at her house. Despite her unexpected reaction to the sight of his bare chest tonight.

  “My neighbors would talk,” she said finally.

  “Mine won’t.”

  Which sounded like an invitation to spend the night at his place. Only, she wasn’t sure what the invitation included.

  “You’re suggesting that I spend the night at your house?”

  “Apartment. I haven’t had time to house hunt.”

  But it sounded as if that were something he intended to do. For some reason—one she couldn’t justify, given their relationship—she was pleased.

  Because you’re a glutton for punishment? Remember, this is a guy who couldn’t bear to have you touch his cheek.

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer—”

  “But you aren’t going to accept.” He shrugged. “Up to you.”

  “Thank you. I mean that.”

  He made no response. They stood a few seconds in silence, both of them looking out over the relatively empty parking lot rather than at one another.

  “It shouldn’t take this long for them to get a car here.”

  He held out his hand. After a moment she dug her cell out again and placed it on his palm. He’d invited her to spend the night, and now it felt as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

  Or maybe the man is tired and in pain and, having made his offer to protect you from all those thoughts that have been keeping you from sleep, he’s ready to wash his hands of you.

  Jace flipped open the case and began to dial. As he did, she turned to look out on the street once more.

  “They’re here,” she said, tracking the cruiser as it approached the emergency entrance.

  “About damn time.” Jace closed the phone with a snap, handing it to her. When the squad car pulled up in front of them, he opened its back door, waiting for her to crawl in.

  From the driver’s seat, Rick Carlisle watched her slide across to make room for Jace. “Hear you all had some excitement at the ball game tonight. You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Lindsey said. “A little smoke damaged.”

  “I can smell it. Shannon with you?”

  “She didn’t come tonight. I think—” Lindsey stopped, unsure what to say about her friend’s decision. “Hard day at school,” she finished softly.

  “I heard about that, too. You just never know.”

  “Both our cars are back at the stadium.” Jace interrupted their solitary conversation. “If you could take us there.”

  “You got it. Linds, if you’d rather, I can take you home and arrange to pick up your car tomorrow and bring it to you.”

  Before she could decide whether or not that was a good idea, Jace answered for her. “The stadium’s fine. I’ll make sure Ms. Sloan gets home safely.”

  Rick continued to look at her over the front seat. He seemed to be waiting for a response from her. The moment stretched, long enough to become awkward, as she weighed the two offers. In spite of her exhaustion, she went with her gut.

  “That’s okay, Rick. The stadium’s fine. I might need my car earlier than you could get it to me.”

  And if I decide to make a run for it in the middle of the night, at least I’ll have some means of transportation.

  The deputy’s lips pursed, but he didn’t argue. He turned around instead and put the car in gear. “Stadium it is.”

  She stole a glance at Jace, but his face was turned toward the hospital. Obviously the scenery outside his window was highly interesting. At least more interesting than she was.

  Of course, with Rick and his partner in the front, it was unlikely Jace would be willing to discuss either the events of tonight or Andrea’s suicide. Or the church fires. Since those were apparently the only things they had in common…

  As the car began to roll, she turned, looking out her own window. Whatever she had thought was going on between them the night they’d had dinner, clearly she’d been mistaken. Except…

  He had been ready to break in to her house to protect her from an intruder. Fought a fire to rescue her. Invited her to spend the night with him.

  She shook her head, denying the idea that might mean something. The invitation had come from his sense of responsibility. Because he’d gotten her involved in all this. Something he’d already confessed. The idea that he gave a rat’s ass about her refusal was only wishful thinking.

  And it was way past time she gave that up.

  Fourteen

  She turned into her driveway, Jace’s headlights behind her, and pulled into the attached carport. As she killed the engine, she looked into the rearview mirror to watch Jace’s lights go off. She waited for him to get out of the car, but when he didn’t, she took her keys out of the ignition and climbed out.

  Jace’s door still hadn’t opened. Maybe he was going to sit there until she was inside. Even if that was his plan, she should still say goodnight and once more try to express her gratitude for what he’d done. She punched the remote lock on her car and walked back to where he was parked.

  As she approache
d, he lowered his window. In stark contrast to his refusal to make eye contract while they’d been in Rick’s cruiser, he looked up at her, dark eyes unreadable.

  “Carlisle a friend of yours?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “But you know him.”

  “He and Shannon dated.”

  “Then why was he so interested in your arrangements tonight?”

  “He was interested because he was worried about me.

  Maybe he figured I’d be upset about my student’s suicide,” she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “Or nervous about having been trapped in a burning building. Or about that snake I found in my house. Or maybe we just do things differently down here.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Nervous.”

  The easy lie was on the tip of her tongue. Something about the way Jace was looking at her kept her from offering it. “What do you think?”

  “I think if you go into that house, you’ll spend another night exactly like you’ve spent the last three.”

  Endlessly recycling every word and every action. Worrying. Sleepless. Guilty.

  “If I do—”

  “Go in, cut off the outside lights, and then come back out here in the dark.”

  She had told him her neighbors would talk. Clearly he had thought that concern was ridiculous—and at this point, so did she—but he was giving her a way around it.

  If you go into that house, you’ll spend another night just like you’ve spent the last three. It was a persuasive argument.

  “They gave me a prescription for sleeping pills.”

  “You didn’t stop to get it filled.”

  “The only place open is out on the interstate. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  She held his eyes, but he didn’t say anything else. No attempt to coerce her. Just the offer he’d already made. And a way for her to accept it, despite the flimsiness of her excuse for not doing so before. “I’m trying to figure out why you asked me to go home with you.”