Doctor Heal Thyself [Internet Bonds Series Book 5]

by Christy Poff

  After her shower, she slipped into an oversized terry bathrobe, then went back to the man she loved.

  "God, you're beautiful,” he said, sliding his finger inside the robe to the curve of her breast. He loosened the robe a little enjoying her, Sheridan adoring the look in his eyes.

  "Have I told you how much I love you?” she asked.

  "Not since you walked into the bathroom,” he said, then kissed her deeply, unable to get enough of her.

  "Ross, I need you to know something."

  "What?"

  "I'm giving up my practice and my license."

  "What about your medical license?"

  "I'll keep that but I have no intentions of staffing at a hospital or practicing actively. I want to serve you anyway I can."

  "How about helping Bentley?"

  "Maybe."

  "But your life..."

  "...Is with you. This last month, I've been sick because I couldn't be with you. I need to be with you or I feel lost."

  "I don't want to take away your independence."

  "You aren't. I learned a lot about myself in our short time together and I found I was not truly happy being an independent professional woman. I had no friends, no love life. I give you my life and my independence freely."

  "Sheridan, I don't know what to say."

  "Tell me you love me."

  "I love you, Sheridan, more than you know. You gave me my life back. I have everything a man could want but it means nothing without a good woman to share it with. Now, I have someone to share it with.” He kissed her, their tongues dancing while his finger teased her nipple.

  Ross slipped from bed, Sheridan gasping at his magnificent hard body. Muscles flexing while he moved drove her to want him more. She noticed the slight limp.

  "Ross, your leg..."

  "It's sore. I guess I overdid things yesterday."

  "Your painkillers..."

  "At Stasia's."

  "I'll call her."

  "Thanks,” he said, disappearing into the shower.

  Sheridan called Stasia, asking her to bring his medicine.

  "I'll be there in an hour. I've got an issue here I have to take care of."

  "We'll see you then,” Sheridan said, hanging up. She turned from the night table to walk back to her closet, gasping.

  "It's good to see you again, Doctor."

  "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

  "You don't remember the Irishman your diagnosis put behind bars in London?"

  "Seamus Melvin?"

  "That's right,” he said, forcing her to the floor. Even though she struggled, Melvin overpowered her, his knee in her back. He bound her feet and hands, both too tight, and then pressed tape over her mouth. She felt him yank her to her knees, Sheridan groaning at being set up to be murdered execution-style.

  Her thoughts went to Ross in the shower and unaware of what was happening. She prayed he'd stay in there until Seamus Melvin did what he intended. She prayed he wouldn't become involved in her past.

  "Don't move or lover boy dies."

  The sound of the water being shut off sent chills though her. Sheridan whimpered while watching Melvin hide off to the side aiming a gun at her. Seeing Ross wrap a thick towel around his waist drove her body crazy especially when she saw his face, happy until he saw her. She shook her head, trying to warn him but Ross didn't understand, walking over to her.

  "Sheridan...” he said, groaning. His eyes open in shocked surprise, Ross slid to the floor after Melvin pistol-whipped him. She tried to scream, fighting to get to him but Melvin aimed the gun at her again. He checked Ross’ pulse and stood up.

  "He's still alive but won't be if you don't behave."

  Sheridan closed her eyes, praying for Ross’ life and forgiveness, then mentally forced herself to pass out.

  It didn't take much.

  Chapter 10

  Melvin picked up his unconscious victim, throwing her body over his shoulder. Quickly, he left the house with his captive safely locked in the trunk of his Buick. Going in the opposite direction from her office, he took a circuitous route to get to it.

  Once he got to the building, he pulled into the back alley and parked near the door. In his survey of the building, he found the private entrance and now used it to his advantage. Quietly, he removed Sheridan from the trunk of his car and quickly took her up the rear stairs to her office, entering into her private sitting area, where he imagined she collected herself between patient sessions.

  Melvin dropped her onto a daybed, then went into her reception area to insert the detonator into the device he'd set underneath the water cooler. Once he had, he did the same thing to the device underneath her desk. Now, to wait until he could easily slip away from the about to be scene of the crime.

  * * * *

  Stasia let herself into Sheridan's home half an hour after Melvin left with her slave. Something struck her as strange—the place was way too quiet. Considering their reunion, Stasia thought she should be hearing more noise unless...

  Instinct told her something was drastically wrong. She ran up the stairs, two at a time, then straight to Sheridan's room.

  "Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Ross ... Ross..."

  She gently rolled him onto his back, cradling his head in her lap. She felt the welt on his head and the dampness on her fingertips. She pulled her hand away hoping it would be wet from his shower but it had blood on it.

  "Ross, please...” Stasia cried, needing to rouse him.

  "Sheridan?"

  "I can't find her."

  "Melvin..."

  "Melvin who?"

  "She helped put him in prison but he escaped. He swore revenge against the judge, the prosecutor, the psychiatrist and Sheridan.” Ross tried to sit up but his head hurt too much. He groaned, Stasia trying to help him.

  "But if he..."

  "...Escaped several weeks ago. Tried to locate him but couldn't until a girl was found dead in the National Forest near here. I know he did it but I didn't have enough proof to go to the cops. Between that and the coma, I..."

  "Stop it. It's not your fault. Why didn't Scotland Yard or someone warn her?"

  "I heard they couldn't reach her. Seems she was out of town and doesn't have an answering machine."

  "Don't they have people looking for him?"

  "I don't know and she doesn't have time. If she's alive..."

  Ross tried to get up again.

  "Please, go to the hospital. Your head is bleeding."

  "Take care of it,” he commanded, the towel dropping to the floor. “Sheridan can't wait."

  Stasia quickly checked Sheridan's medicine cabinet returning with bandaging and some antiseptic. While she tried to dress the wound, Ross contacted the police.

  "I'd like to report a kidnapping."

  "Who?” Lieutenant Richter asked.

  "Doctor Sheridan Greenlaw."

  "Who is the alleged kidnapper?"

  "Seamus Melvin. He vowed to kill her after a London court sentenced him to prison for rape/murder. Scotland Yard has more details."

  "And you know all this, how?"

  "Private investigation and I was a witness to the abduction."

  "How long ago?

  "An hour or so. The guy pistol-whipped me."

  "Any clue where he might take her?"

  "No, but I think you might be able to connect him to a murdered girl found in the forest."

  "Sir, how is it you have all this information and we do not?"

  "Lieutenant, you're wasting time. He may already have killed her."

  "Your name, Mister..."

  "Ross Beckham."

  Ross hung up, then threw the phone across the room.

  "What did he say?” Stasia asked.

  "He's more concerned about my involvement than in getting her back."

  He pulled out his cell phone and got one of the international operators.

  "Give me Scotland Yard in London ... Thanks."

  * * * *

 
In London, Lord Rogers Stewart of Scotland Yard read the overnight activity reports from the various districts. He'd made it through the first page when his secretary buzzed him.

  "Your Lordship, Mister Ross Beckham from America on line one. He says he has information on the Melvin case."

  "Thank you,” he said, pressing the button to answer his call. “Lord Rogers Stewart."

  "This is Ross Beckham. I need to know what you have on Seamus Melvin."

  "He's extremely dangerous, whereabouts unknown. Anything more is classified in on ongoing investigation."

  "He's here in Sun Valley, Idaho and is holding Sheridan Greenlaw."

  "Are you sure about this?"

  "He coldcocked me before he took her. Tell me what I need to know, please."

  "Don't go near him. I'll contact the local FBI office. Let them take care of this. It's their specialty."

  "And you're burning sunlight, so to speak."

  "He's an explosives expert. If he has her, he'll make sure there is no evidence she ever existed. He'll torture her, too."

  "Not if I can help it."

  "Mister Beckham, let the professionals handle this."

  "And in the meantime, she could die if he hasn't killed her already. Where would he take her?"

  "Where did he take her from?"

  "Her home."

  "Then go to her office or place of business. All the others were killed either at or near where they worked."

  "Good, call who you have to. I'm going to her office."

  "What does this woman mean to you? The man is psychotic."

  "She's my wife-to-be."

  "I send you my best but you have my condolences, sir."

  "One last question."

  "Sir?"

  "Why didn't you try to contact or warn her?"

  "We couldn't get hold of her."

  "What about the Feds or the locals?” Ross waited. “My Lord?"

  "I..."

  "If anything happens to her, I will be in your office as soon as I can to even the score for her. You dropped the ball on this one and because of it, she could die."

  Ross hung up, rage coursing through him.

  "Ross?” Stasia asked cautiously.

  "I need a gun."

  "I've got one at the office."

  "Good, I can change clothes while you get it and grab a few things on the way to her office."

  "Ross, are you nuts? I heard what he did to that girl out there."

  "How did you con—"

  "Sheridan mentioned her name when she told me why she went to you to begin with. I remembered it, went to the newspapers and found the murdered girl was the same person."

  "Did Sheridan know about the murder?"

  "I don't think so. She's been so wrapped up in her own confusion, I don't think she's had any clue at all about the world around her."

  "But how did you connect them?"

  "From what she told me and now her abduction. We don't have crime like this here."

  "Strange logic but we both agree. Let's go. We've wasted enough time,” he said, slipping into his jacket.

  Stasia stopped him.

  "What?"

  "These,” she said, holding up his painkillers.

  Quickly, he took two, pocketing the prescription. They left Sheridan's house heading back to Stasia's. Ross changed while Stasia went to get the gun she kept in her desk. She came back to his room, groaning when she saw his bare chest.

  "I hope she realizes how lucky she is,” she murmured, handing him her 9mm Beretta.

  "Nice piece."

  "I took your lead and bought one like your favorite. I also brought you an extra clip."

  "Good. I need a favor."

  "Anything."

  "If I don't make it back and she does..."

  "I'll take care of her, if you don't mind me claiming her again."

  "I don't. You're the only one I trust her with and she'll need you."

  "Of course, I will."

  "Thanks,” he said, then kissed her.

  "I have one other thing for you."

  "What?"

  "Ridge thought you'd prefer this instead of the cane."

  "It's nice but..."

  "Pull the handle."

  Ross gave the western-styled walking stick a pull, revealing an extremely fine honed sword. He grinned.

  "Outstanding."

  "Go, my love, and come back to me—both of you."

  Ross kissed her again, then left Anastasia's. He slid into the Mercedes and headed to Sheridan's office.

  "I will see you dead, Melvin,” he swore.

  * * * *

  Sheridan came to, stiff and still bound, only she discovered he'd brought her to her office. How long have I been out of it? She closed her eyes, the bright afternoon sun blinding her. She heard footsteps in her main office praying Melvin would stay out there and away from her.

  The trial came back to her as if it'd happened yesterday instead of several years earlier, a part of her life she'd desperately tried to forget.

  "Doctor Greenlaw, would you tell the court what you learned about the defendant from your sessions with him?"

  "I met with him on two different occasions. From our conversations referencing the rapes and murders, he not only admitted to committing them but bragged about enjoying the acts. I could only conclude him to be an habitual sexual offender and a clear and constant danger to society. For him to be allowed to live in a normal setting would easily afford him the victims he chooses to prey upon."

  "And your professional opinion about his sentence?"

  "In the interest of public safety, he should be incarcerated for as long as the legal system affords."

  "Thank you, Doctor Greenlaw."

  She left the stand ushered from the courtroom by a huge bailiff. She got into a waiting car provided by Scotland Yard, the driver whisking her straight to Heathrow. She flew back to New York City, disappearing for a year or so before she resurfaced in Sun Valley where she started and maintained a moderately successful practice until Suzette what's-her-name questioned her capabilities to practice.

  Sheridan heard Melvin had received the maximum sentences on all counts guaranteeing he would never prey on anyone again. She kept a low profile but her reputation had grown by leaps and bounds. Now, it meant nothing to her—not one damned thing.

  Ross’ image came to mind. Tears welled in her eyes at the memory of Melvin hitting him and knocking him unconscious. Now, she lay on the daybed in her office on the opposite side of Sun Valley from where she'd spent a glorious night with the man she loved. She had no idea of his condition but, if she knew Melvin, she wouldn't see the dawn of the new day or Ross ever again.

  A crash from her office brought her back to the reality of her situation. From what she could tell, everything on her desk had hit the floor, her lamps and several other things broken. Another loud crash told her he'd smashed her computer.

  Considering the decision she'd made, then told Ross about, Melvin had made things final. Fortunately, she had all her files on backup and in her safe. She heard more things break but all she cared about was seeing Ross again.

  She started to make sketchy plans for their wedding—one she knew she'd never see thanks to her past returning. She pictured him waiting for her wearing black on black, her mistress and maid of honor waiting with him. What will I wear? Would it be a church wedding or ... Thinking helped her mind ease and calmed her body, although thinking of Ross caused her pussy to clench while her nipples became even firmer on top of the constant arousal from the piercings. She tried to move to ease her aching but the terry brushing over her sensitive nipples only served to make it worse while the rest of her body was immobile thanks to the tape.

  So engrossed in concentrating on Ross, she didn't hear Melvin enter the private anteroom of her office. Her eyes remained closed, though she started when he yanked her off the daybed to carry her into her office. Cautiously, she opened her eyes to see Melvin's all-out destruction of the room. H
e laid her across the length of her desk and held a knife on her.

  "Don't you dare move,” he warned.

  Terrified and numb, she watched him slice the tape on her ankles. Despite his warning, she tried to move them to regain circulation in her lower extremities. Melvin pulled her far enough to the edge of the desktop to bend her knees over it while the rest of her body remained on the flat surface. He knelt down, tying a cord around her right ankle. He pulled her leg toward the side of the desk facing the office where he wrapped the cord around both her leg and the desk's. Why did I have to pick ultramodern furniture? Why not something like Ross'—traditional and oozing strength and confidence? He did the same with her other ankle, her legs spread more than she wanted at this point. If Ross had bound me to the desk—fine, but not this way...

  Grabbing the front of her robe, he yanked her up to cut the tape on her hands. Before she had any chance to do anything, he held the knife to her neck.

  "Don't even think about it, Doctor."

  The word doctor burned into her brain but she couldn't worry about it now—not when a sexual predator held her at his mercy.

  Melvin pulled her arms over her head, binding them to the opposite end of the desk. He sat in her chair, looking at her.

  "Do you know how much thought I've devoted to how I would take my revenge on the bitch who recommended how my life would end up?"

  Sheridan glared at him.

  "I've spent every waking moment since I watched you on the stand. In case you don't already know, I've carried out my threat to kill the judge, the prosecutor and the psychiatrist. They all died within hours of my escape leaving you for last.

  Sheridan's shudders brought a smile to his face. He reached over, tugging on her robe, opening it enough to expose her cleavage and the fullness of her breasts. Sheridan's hands clenched while she tried to beg him to let her go.

  "Do you remember Suzette, the patient who questioned your abilities? I paid her to see you, then ask the questions I'm sure bothered you. They found her body where I left it in the park after I finished with her. She won't bother you again,” he said, then laughed sadistically.

  Sheridan closed her eyes, tears welling at the edges but not flowing. She refused to let him see her emotions. He grabbed her face, squeezing it.

  "Don't you dare close your eyes while I'm talking to you!"

  Satisfied, he smiled at her enjoying her fear, feeding from it.