by Rowe, Julie
“I only got here about twenty minutes ago,” Kini said to the cop babysitting her.
“Can you prove it?” he asked.
“Yes. Smoke and I were at the hospital, then his grandparent’s home for a quick bite to eat.”
The two cops moved aside to talk. They came back after a minute. “Ma’am do you have ID?”
“In my purse, which is inside the house, along with my collection kit.”
One of the officers went in, while the other took the handcuffs off her.
She held out her arms to the baby.
She came and gave Kini a kiss on the cheek. “Hungy.”
“I think she was left alone for more than just a couple of hours,” Kini said to the officer. “She keeps saying she’s hungry.”
He stared at the child, dismay obvious in his expression. “We’ll have to call child services.”
“Her mother is in the hospital on life support,” Kini continued. “You may have to do some digging to find a relative who can take care of her.”
The other officer came out with Kini’s purse and kit. “She checks out,” he said to his partner. “We can call the CDC to confirm, but her ID looks legit.”
“What the hell is really going on?” the other cop asked Smoke and her. “You have any idea why people are suddenly deathly ill or dropping dead?”
“No,” she answered. “That’s why I’m out here trying to ask questions and collect blood samples. If this is an outbreak of hantavirus, I need to confirm that and figure out where people are coming into contact with the virus.”
Another police car pulled up, and two officers got out.
“Okay,” the lead cop said. “I’m going to call all this in, then I’ll let you know what the sheriff wants to do.”
“How long will that take?” Kini asked.
“An hour, maybe two. Depends on what else is happening in the county.”
Kini glanced at Smoke. “Might as well finish making that soup for the baby.”
He nodded and walked beside her into the house. One of the cops came along, as if it were an afterthought on his part.
She ignored him.
The pot of soup was still sitting on the stove. She’d turned the burner off when she left the house, so she turned it back on and went to the fridge. Milk…the baby was young enough that she must drink milk every day. There was a carton at the back of the fridge, three-quarters empty.
Kini found a glass and gave her young friend a full serving of the white stuff.
Smoke settled on a seat at the table next to the baby and seemed content to simply watch her move around the kitchen. The police officer wandered the house, looking in on them often.
Impatience jerked at her focus repeatedly. The delay in her fact-finding mission could result in a big problem if this was an outbreak. More cases, more deaths that could have been prevented.
She checked her watch. “It’s been a couple of hours since we left the hospital. I’m going to call, see if there’s been any change in the condition of the other suspected HPS victims.”
“New cases, too,” Smoke said, getting to his feet and walking toward her. He stopped only one foot away and slowly reached out a hand to take the spoon she was using to stir the soup from her. “Call.”
“You don’t say much, but you’re still a little pushy.”
He gave her a half smile and lifted one shoulder.
Not an apology, but recognition of her role. Cocky man.
She gave up the spoon to him and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. First, she called the hospital ER. The receptionist wouldn’t tell her anything and put her on hold. The next person to talk to her was one of the nurses she’d met earlier.
The nurse confirmed that both of the other suspected cases were still alive but that their conditions had worsened. Another six suspected cases had been identified, with more possibilities coming in the door all the time. They’d run out of beds and had called in extra staff to deal with the influx of sick. No one was saying Hantavirus Pulmonary Syndrome, but that was the prevailing theory.
The chief of staff was still wavering on calling in the CDC officially, despite knowing a call would bring in more help, more supplies, and more medical staff to deal with whatever this was. He obviously didn’t want to lose control of the situation, staff, or hospital, because he refused to allow anyone to use the word “outbreak.”
The man was a moron, but there wasn’t anything she could do about him. She needed to focus on getting her job done, so the appropriate decisions could be made.
Kini explained that she’d be longer than initially thought and hung up. She turned to give Smoke a synopsis of the conversation and found him feeding the baby with all the patience of a man who had several of his own children and loved being with them.
It made her heart ache to see him, this rough, rugged man, play with the little girl like she was the center of his universe. A memory surfaced of her father before he’d gone overseas, of him playing with her like that. His smile had been so bright…her breath got tangled up at the base of her throat. She cleared it and wiped her eyes before Smoke noticed the tears on her face.
He was making a game out of eating the soup, pretending to put the spoon in his own mouth so the baby would grab his hand and force him to put the spoon in hers. She crowed in delight every time she got the spoon in her mouth, like she’d scored the winning point in a championship title match.
“Good news,” Smoke asked her. “Or bad?”
“Bad. No new deaths, but everyone is worse, so it’s likely only a matter of time. They’ve got a bunch of new cases, too.”
“They call in the CDC yet?”
“Nope. Not enough evidence for the chief of staff.”
Smoke sighed. “Ass…jerk.”
“Nice save,” she told him. She watched him get another spoonful into the baby’s mouth. “Do you have nieces and nephews?”
“No. I used to play this game when I fed my boy,” was his answer after a moment’s pause.
Boy? He had a son? She opened her mouth to ask him but paused when she saw his face.
The playful man feeding the baby was gone. In his place was a stranger with a tense mouth and angry eyes.
“Your son?” she asked cautiously.
He flinched. Something had happened to his child? Did she want to know?
“He…died.”
Oh no. A double-edged sword, recognition on one side, comprehension on the other stabbed her lungs. What he’d lost equaled the empty places in her own heart.
It took five long seconds to figure out how to breathe around this new piece to Smoke’s puzzle.
“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say.
“He died because I wasn’t here,” Smoke said with a hard edge to his voice.
“I don’t believe that,” Kini whispered. No matter how it happened or who was to blame, losing a child this young would open a wound that might never heal. “Don’t believe that.”
Smoke held himself so still with such cold resolve he appeared to be carved out of glacial ice. Frozen between layers of tragedy and horror until all that was left of him was strong enough to wear down stone. But an attempt to heat that ice—he’d melt away into nothing.
“I’ll never know.” His voice was scored by the rough gravel glaciers ground into dust. “I wasn’t here.”
Pain was etched in every line of his body, every muscle and nerve and bone. A pain no drug could stop or medicine could heal. She knew it, recognized it, suffered it. Running away from it was futile.
She’d tried that, too, but it hadn’t helped, only made things worse.
“It’s hard,” she said, fighting to breathe through the heavy weight of knowing he’d been hurt right down to his soul like she had been. “Don’t give up.”
The police officer who’d been shadowing them came into the kitchen, and Kini had to consciously pull her thoughts back to the problem at hand.
The officer looked…irritated and r
esigned. “Okay, we’ve confirmed your credentials,” he said to her. “You’re to finish whatever you were doing and report back to the CDC as soon as possible.”
He sounded grumpy. Someone had bitched to someone else’s superiors.
“The baby?”
“Someone from child services will be here shortly. We’ll keep an eye on her until they arrive.”
“Hmm, let me try something.” Kini wet a cloth and wiped the baby’s face clean then held out her hands to the little girl and asked, “Nap?”
The child reached for Kini.
She picked the little girl up and headed toward the bedrooms. Next to the master bedroom was a smaller one with a crib, diaper changing station, rocking chair, and dresser.
Kini put the child into the crib, covered her with a blanket. The baby wiggled into a comfortable position and blew her a kiss.
“Trouble,” Kini said. “That’s what you are.” She smiled and kissed the little girl on the cheek then left the room.
Smoke met her in the hallway. “I’m not leaving you alone this time.”
She studied his face. It was so blank she knew he’d been told something more, something she didn’t know. “What? What’s happened now?”
When he didn’t answer, she said, “Just tell me.”
“That asshole ER doc has a fever.”
Chapter Ten
“Holy shit,” Kini whispered, her jaw hanging open for a moment.
Smoke had to agree. “Time to go.”
“Let me grab my stuff.” She led the way through the kitchen, picking up her purse and collection kit as she walked toward the front door.
None of the cops said anything to them or even cast a curious glance their way.
Kini put her equipment in her rental car then paused with the driver’s door open and one foot on the floorboard. “Meet you at the next address?”
“We’re not going back to the hospital?” he asked.
“I need these samples to show or refute a pattern and, hopefully, a timeline of infection. I need to find the source. Dr. Flett’s infection is significant, but so is this.”
Smoke wasn’t sure he agreed. “Okay, you’re the boss.”
She frowned at him then started the car’s engine and departed the yard about thirty miles an hour too fast. He waited a minute for the dust from the gravel road to settle before starting his hog and riding after her.
It was about ten minutes before he pulled up to another ranch-style home. Unfortunately, this place seemed just as quiet and serene as the last one. Except, the last one had a dead body in it and a little girl who was probably going to rule the world when she grew up.
Smoke scanned the house and yard. Kini wasn’t visible anywhere. The car was here, but she wasn’t.
He walked to the front door and knocked. Feminine laughter echoed through the house. He could hear more than two people in there having a conversation.
Footsteps alerted him a second or two before the door opened. A woman in her forties scanned him then shouted over her shoulder, “Kini, I think your man is here.”
“My what?” Kini’s voice came from deeper inside the house, out of sight, and sounded scandalized. “I distinctly recall not acquiring one of those while visiting your fair state.”
Yes, she had.
“What I acquired was a babysitter. A fist for hire, really.”
“Ooh! You’re paying a mercenary to take care of you?” The woman sounded more and more excited with every word she spoke. “That’s hot.”
“It’s annoying, is what it is. He won’t let me go anywhere alone.”
“A guy like this could take me anyplace and I’d be happy.”
He was standing right in front of her. How could she talk about him like he was some kind of…object?
Or was this some sort of cosmic karma wherein he got heckled as a stand-in for all the men in the world?
“Kini?” Smoke called out. “Done?”
“Give me two minutes.”
“Two words?” the woman asked. “You only used two words, yet she was able to understand what you meant.” The woman looked him up and down again. “I could get used to that.”
Holy shit, it sounded like this lady was about to proposition him.
“Kini?” he repeated. He’d faced armed militants, terrorists, and men driven insane by loss and hate without flinching, but this woman scared him.
He took a step back from the door then spied Kini walking toward him.
“It’s going to take me another ten minutes to finish here. Feel free to head back to town,” she said.
“I’ll just wait…” He cleared his throat and managed not to glance at the woman while he pointed at his motorcycle.
“Suit yourself.”
Smoke moved away, letting himself lean on his ride and study the landscape. Their enemy was too small to see and too quiet to hear, and no amount of hypervigilance could change that. He was wound right up, and nothing would loosen until this shit was over.
The worst kind of war.
Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the job River offered. Nah, he’d be here doing the same thing, job or not. Kini needed someone to support her. Protect her. That’s all he was good for now.
Her voice reached across the yard, pulling his attention back to the house.
“Thanks, Mary, for taking the time out of your day to answer my questions and provide a blood sample.”
Smoke met Kini as she stepped out of the house.
“No problem.” Mary smiled and pointed at Smoke. “The scenery was worth it.”
He kept pace with Kini as she strode to her car. Very close pace.
She gave him a frown and sidled away from him, but he followed.
From the house came the sound of laughter. Wicked, naughty laughter.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked him.
“I don’t want Mary to think I’m available for…whatever she’s laughing about.”
“You can’t tell me women haven’t hit on you before. I won’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re everything a woman looks for in a man.”
Smoke forgot Mary. Forgot the illness they were investigating and forgot the dead body Kini had found not an hour ago.
She kept talking, her hand indicating all of him. “Big, muscular…”
He stepped toward her, one hand coming up to play with a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail.
Her words fizzled out as her face grew red. “Never mind.”
Oh no. She’d started this explanation, she was going to finish it. “Keep going.”
Her breathing sped up, and she licked her lips. “Um, what was I saying? Oh, right, you’re big, muscular, and…” This time, she stopped talking to breathe. Hard.
He waited, his hand stroking over her cheek then tucking the tendril behind her ear. “And what?”
“Hot,” she said. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.
He couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head so his tongue could follow the path of hers.
Her bottom lip was as plump and sweet as it looked. Better. He tasted her again, just to be sure. Fuck, she was sweet and tart at the same time. A flavor that gave him an adrenaline hit and his body demanded more.
His hand slid behind her head, cradling it at just the right angle for him to kiss her deep and long.
A low moan came out of her throat, then her hands were on his shoulders, hanging on to him like he was the only reason gravity hadn’t pulled her flat to the earth.
Raucous laughter from the house had her jerking away from him, but he didn’t let her go. Not when her face drained of all color right before his eyes.
She tried to retreat, but at some point during their kiss, he’d put his other hand on the small of her back and pressed her to him. He most definitely didn’t want her going anywhere.
“Smoke,” she said, breathing heavy, eyes glassy. “Let me go.”
Those words
dumped ice water over his head, and he released her suddenly. She staggered, and he grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her.
“Sorry,” he said, though it came out as more of a mumble.
She nodded, the movement jerky.
Smoke cleared his throat. “Now what?”
“We get these samples packaged up and on their way to Atlanta.” She blew out a shaky breath. “I’ll meet you at your grandparent’s house?”
Smoke nodded and watched her get in the car and drive off.
He wanted her.
He’d wanted her since waking up with her on his chest, but this want was different. He wanted more than a hookup or even a short-term fling. He wanted to kiss her with no time limit, no audience, and no distractions. That first taste would never be enough. He was already addicted to her sweet-tart flavor.
Yeah, like he was relationship material. Liam’s mother, Lacey, had complained bitterly about how he was never around when she needed him. When his son needed him. No matter how much he wanted to be a part of their lives, he hadn’t been able to take that last step to total commitment. It had felt like a noose around his neck, choking the life right out of him.
Kini wasn’t anything like Lacey, though. She wasn’t looking for happily ever after, and maybe happy right now might last long enough to work her out of his system.
He got on his hog and roared after her. Her reaction this morning told him he’d have to be cautious and careful as he found a way through her emotional defenses. She’d been hurt, to the bone, by someone she trusted. That trust wasn’t something she offered lightly to anyone, if she offered it to anyone at all.
At the house, Tommy was outside talking to Kini, the two of them standing next to the young man’s jeep. Kini held a box in her hands. As he joined them, she opened the box and began explaining what made this box different.
“It’s not made of regular cardboard. It’s composed of plastic-coated cardboard designed to resist punctures and tears. It also has a Styrofoam interior that protects the tubes of blood and includes freezer packs to keep them cold.”
“So, if I drop it…?”
“I would try to avoid that if possible, but if you do drop it, the samples will probably be fine.”
“No drop kicking it through the goal posts. Got it.”