by Vella Day
Adam served two more customers then headed back to him. “I still think you should ask the brunette to dance.”
“Amber would rather take on a buffalo than me.”
“Ouch. Sorry man. Didn’t know you knew her that well.”
Her laughter rose above the country music. He turned to find Sam leaning over the table with Amber’s face tilted up toward him, a smile on her face.
Damn. Sam was a snake. He was tempted to grab the guy by the neck and toss him out, but so far he’d done nothing wrong, and Amber seemed taken by him. If Stone’s sister could be believed, Sam Richland was a good-looking man with the devil of a heart. Amber was too naïve to see what kind of man he was.
She scooted back her chair, and Sam grabbed her hand to escort her to the dance floor. For a second, Cade was tempted to ask someone, too, just so he could be on the floor with her. Amber needed the protection.
To hell with it. It was her life. She and Stone didn’t have a permanent relationship, so there was no reason to interfere. She was a grown woman and a professional to boot.
“Another one?” Adam asked.
“Sure. Why not?” He wasn’t on duty.
The song ended and Sam escorted Amber back to her table. Cade faced the bar again and had knocked back half of his ale when his cell rang. He debated not answering it, but his work ethic refused him the luxury. Slowly, he extracted his phone from his pocket, thinking it was probably Stone wanting him to join a few of the firefighters for drinks or maybe even a couple of games of pool.
Wrong. It was Dan Hartwick, his boss.
“Carter.”
“Cade, I’m afraid one of the doctors at the hospital is certain one of her patients was murdered.”
Cade’s gut churned, and his anger grew as Dan rattled on, giving him the name of the patient and the attending physician.
“When did this occur?” His heart jumped around inside his chest like his ribs were playing hot potato.
“Forty-five minutes ago.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The ramification of that struck him hard. If this woman died less than an hour ago, and Amber had been at Banner’s Bar long before that, then she couldn’t have been the killer. It was possible she had a hand in the first two deaths, but that probability was slim.
This reeked of a serial killer. Shit. He’d been wrong. So very, very wrong. He doubted any words he said would appease her, but he had to offer them.
As he turned to find Amber so he could apologize, all of her friends were at the table, except her. His pulse spiked. Sam was gone, too. Fuck.
Cade reached into his pocket and dropped a ten on the counter for Adam. “When did Amber leave?”
“While you were on the phone.”
“Thanks.”
Cade slid off the stool and strode toward the door, his mind splintering. His attention raced between Amber and the recent death.
Hartwick’s words continued to rattle in his brain. Rock Hard had its first serial killer—assuming the same person executed all three murders—and Cade’s blood ran cold. It was close to seven on a Thursday night. He could be so lucky the time frame would narrow down the suspects.
He stepped outside and turned left toward Peak where he’d parked. He passed Nancy’s Fabrics and halted. Two people were arguing a block and a half away. He didn’t have time to intervene, but when he drew closer and saw it was Amber, his blood pressure rose. As if the sequence of events were frames in a slow motion movie, Cade watched Sam grab Amber and shove her hard against the car.
“Sam,” Amber yelled. “Stop. Get off me.” She grasped his arms and pushed him, but the man didn’t budge. He outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds.
Cade went ballistic, and he was beside her in seconds.
Without asking what was going on, he shoved Sam back. “What the fuck is your problem?” His breath rushed out, and he got in the man’s face. “When a lady says stop, it means stop.”
Sam held up his hands. “Easy, detective. Inside Banner’s, the little woman was asking for it.” He lowered his arms and faced her. “Next time, don’t act like you want a real man to fuck you then say no.”
He glared at Cade and stormed off. Cade returned his attention to Amber. Her arms were crossed and her gaze unfocused, as if she was about to break.
“You okay?” No, dumb fuck. She’s just been attacked.
“I think so.” She still didn’t look at him. His gut swam. She drew in a large breath. “Thank you. I tried to fight him off but he kept pushing me and I—”
“No thanks necessary. Keep breathing. It’ll be okay.” A strong urge to enfold her in his arms took over, but he refrained. She still thought he hated her. Making sure not to get too close, he opened her car door. “Do you want me to follow you home?”
When she finally made eye contact, her brows were pinched. “Why did you even stop? You think I’m a killer. Do you always come to the rescue of evil people?” Her voice had sharpened with each word.
He was pleased she’d snapped out of whatever place she’d withdrawn to.
“No. I stopped when I saw it was you.” He inhaled. “Listen. About my accusation and the interrogation. I need to apologize.”
“Hell yeah, you do.” Her body froze and her eyes widened. “You caught the killer?”
He wished with his whole heart that he could say yes. “No. There’s been another death at the hospital though.”
“People often die there.”
He placed a hand on the hood of her car, trying to decide how much to tell her. “One of the doctors believed her patient was murdered tonight.”
She grabbed his arm. “Who?”
News would get out soon enough. “Her name was Stephanie Osmond. She died an hour ago.”
Amber sank back against the car, and when her knees buckled, he ignored his early warning and clasped her shoulders. She wasn’t fit to go anywhere. “Stay here. Okay?”
She stared straight ahead. “Stephanie?”
“Did you know her?”
“Not personally, but every death is tragic.”
Other than when his grandparents had passed, he wasn’t an expert on dying, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was reliving her brother’s death right now. “Can you walk a block?” He couldn’t leave her.
Her legs straightened, and he let go. “Yes.”
“You’re coming with me.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “I thought you said I wasn’t a suspect anymore.”
Why did he keep royally fucking things up with her? “I don’t. I thought I’d take you home.”
She squinted. “What about the murder?”
“It can wait. I don’t want you driving by yourself.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not going home. I need to be at the hospital. Whoever was Stephanie’s nurse will be upset. I know what she’s going through.”
She wasn’t going to give in. “Come on then.” It might be against department policy to bring a civilian to a crime scene, but he bet she could help.
“Where?”
From her tentative tone, she probably had no idea about his agenda. He faced her, working hard to keep his voice calm. “I could really use your help. You said you wanted to go to the hospital, and I’d feel better with you by my side.” That didn’t come out right. “I don’t want Sam to start drinking and decide he needs to teach you a lesson.” That sounded even worse.
She bristled. “You think he would?”
His shoulders slumped. “No. I just said that. I’m sorry. Nothing is coming out right. Can we go and talk later?” She’s reduced me to pleading.
“Sure.”
She seemed to have recovered because her strides kept up with his. Once they reached his SUV, he opened the passenger door and helped her in. When he leaned close to make sure she was in safely, her light rose scent stirred something inside him. It was the same reaction he’d had the first time he’d interviewed her, before he’d gotten carried away and tho
ught she might be guilty.
He climbed in the front seat, jammed the key in the ignition, and prayed this time he’d find the bastard.
Chapter Ten
At the thought of what Sam could have done to her, Amber squeezed her thighs together. She was more shaken than she wanted to let on. Having two horrible events happen at the same time threw her way off balance. She’d only had a glass and a half of sangria when she’d spotted Cade entering the bar. She’d wanted to show him that his terrible interrogation hadn’t stopped her from living again. She wasn’t guilty of murder, and she told herself she deserved to have a good time.
Sam was a good-looking man, but he didn’t excite her in the least. Stone did.
Be honest. Okay, Cade did too, but in a different way. The detective was big, hard, stern, and powerful. She shouldn’t have been drawn to someone who thought so little of her or who believed she was capable of murder. But she was. Maybe if Stone hadn’t told her what a great guy his roommate was, she might have felt differently.
Then, when she’d feared she’d walk up to Cade and tell him what a jerk he was for drawing unwarranted conclusions, she left. Sam had followed her out. Even after she told the guy she wasn’t interested, he didn’t seem to care.
She shivered at the thought of that creep’s hands on her. She needed to forget about him and think how Cade had come to her defense instead.
“You okay?” he asked.
She glanced over at him, realizing she was in his car. “Yes. Do you know anything else about the new murder?” Thinking about the death was almost more preferable to focusing on what Sam might have done to her had Cade not intervened.
His lips thinned. “No. It’s enough that a woman is dead and having it occur in a hospital makes it worse.”
“Why?”
“It’s the perfect place for a murder to go undetected. People are going in and out of rooms all the time. If he or she was wearing a uniform, no one would have even noticed.” He slammed his palm against the wheel.
Unfortunately, his assessment was true. Nurses drew blood and took vitals all hours of the day and night. The arrival of a doctor was less common, but they did check on their patients when necessary. “Do you know what floor she was on?” She prayed it wasn’t the fourth.
“Third.”
For the rest of the trip, Amber tried to sober up, though Sam’s attack had done a good job of that. Less than ten minutes later, Cade pulled close to the Emergency Entrance and parked. In case he told her to stay in the car, she pushed open the door before he could stop her. He was there in a flash with his hand extended. He did act as if he truly believed she was innocent. It sucked that it took another murder to prove she wasn’t guilty.
He blew out a breath after he helped her stand. “Let’s do this.”
She walked by his side, working hard to keep up with his long stride. “How can you do this day in and day out, if every call means a dead body?”
He cocked a brow. “Whoa. Until last month, Rock Hard had only one murder all year. I work mostly thefts, burglaries, and some assaults. The low murder rate was one of the reasons why I never went to a large city.”
As soon as they stepped into the trauma bay, Cade held out his badge, although she bet everyone knew him without the ID. When they arrived on the third floor, the atmosphere seemed drastically different—no loud chatter, only hushed voices that seemed hurried.
A tall policeman, standing in front of the reception desk, directed them. “Victim’s in 324.”
As they headed down the hall, the creases around Cade’s eyes tightened. When they reached the victim’s room, he faced her. “Maybe you should wait out here.”
“I’ve seen dead bodies. More times than I can count.” She didn’t want to be shut out.
“I’m sure you have, but there are rules.” He exhaled and tilted his head. “You could help me a lot by asking around. See what people know. The workers don’t like to volunteer anything to cops.”
That part was true. When Emma Luther had been killed, a few of the staff had been hesitant to speak. “I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.” He reached out a hand and gently clasped her shoulder. “I mean it.”
His gratitude broke the tentative barrier that existed between them.
Amber nodded. Once Cade slipped into the dead woman’s room, she forced herself to push aside the horrible death and focus on finding out who might have killed her.
Fewer nurses than normal were rushing about, so she went into the break room. Dr. Wendy Harrison, a gynecologist, had her head in her hands. Three other nurses were gathered around her, whispering and patting her hand. Now probably wasn’t the time to disturb her. Her heart pulled in a tug of war.
Amber turned on her heels to leave when Doug Lambert, an OB-GYN nurse, came up to her. “You hear about Wendy’s patient?” he asked.
“You mean Stephanie Osmond?” Doug nodded. She leaned closer. “What exactly happened?”
He shrugged. “From what the doc said, the woman had an allergic reaction from the Flagyl she gave her, which caused Stephanie to suffer from Guillain-Barré syndrome.”
“That’s like one in one-hundred thousand cases.”
“I know, but Stephanie was the rare exception.”
Something had been niggling at her since she’d heard about the death. “How did Wendy know she’d been murdered?”
“I don’t know.” He tapped his watch. “I need to get back to work.”
Not having any idea how long an investigation like this took, Amber wanted to ask Cade to text her when he was ready to go. She could have asked one of the staff to drive her back to her car, but she wanted to learn what he’d found out.
When she reached room 324, the same tall policeman who’d been posted by the reception desk stood by the door. “Is Detective Carter inside?” she asked.
“He is.” His brow cocked.
“Could you have him text me when he’s ready to leave?” He nodded. “I’m Amber.”
“I know.”
Really? She wondered what Cade told the man about her. It didn’t matter except if he’d said she’d been a suspect. Her reputation meant the world to her.
Amber was halfway back to the break room when she realized she hadn’t let Stone know what happened. She texted him about Stephanie’s death, the fact both she and Cade had been in the bar when the murder occurred, and that Cade admitted she was no longer a suspect. She knew Stone would be happy for her. Amber decided to leave out the whole Sam Richland event until she spoke with Stone in person.
No one was in the break room when she returned. Darn. There goes any chance of learning more. She fixed herself a cup of tea, then plopped down on the sofa and browsed through some of the medical journals to help pass the time.
Less than half an hour later, her cell buzzed. It was a text from Cade asking her to meet him by the reception desk. She gathered her purse and headed to the front.
When she rounded the corner, Cade was scribbling something into a folder. She doubted he’d tell her much about the ongoing investigation, but he might share something. “Well?” Hell, she probably knew more than he did.
“The woman is indeed dead.”
Amber thought she caught a bit of police humor skate across his face. “Not funny.” She quickly sobered and leaned closer. “How did they know it was murder?”
“I see your mind’s been active.” A muscle tightened around his eye as if he debated telling her. “This is not for publication.”
Publication. Right. “I won’t tell anyone.” He lowered his chin as if he didn’t believe her. “I promise.” She held up three fingers as if she were back in Girl Scouts.
“There was an empty vial that had contained a neuromuscular blocker under the bed.”
She gasped and then her breath whooshed out. “So that’s how Wendy knew. The killer must have believed he or she was about to be caught and dropped it.”
“Or else the person was just careless.” Cade leaned
back against the desk. Dark shadows circled his eyes. He pushed off from the counter. “I’ve got a hankering for a thick steak. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Care to join me? It’s on me for the way I’ve treated you.”
Taken unaware, she studied his eyes. Whereas Stone’s were a beautiful spring green, Cade’s were closer to blue. Maybe even turquoise. Sincerity shone, but they also were tinged with something that looked liked regret.
She had three choices. Yes, no, and some other time.
Cade had come to her rescue when he didn’t have to. He also was Stone’s best friend, and she certainly didn’t want to cause a problem between them.
Admit it. You’re intrigued by him.
“Yes. Thank you.” This was his way of erasing his guilt—a payback of sorts and nothing more.
The tall cop returned and nodded to Cade. “Got a sec?” he asked and motioned they step to the opposite side of the hallway.
Cade walked ten feet and huddled with the other cop. Keeping his back to her, she couldn’t hear their conversation. Damn.
Within seconds, he returned. “Ready?”
Hunger pains had periodically stabbed at her in the last hour, so she was actually looking forward to the food. “Yes.”
The drive to Third and Wakefield didn’t take long. When she asked him another question about the case, he gave her the standard response about not being able to talk about it. She didn’t press him since she really didn’t want to dwell on the horror anymore either.
As luck would have it, he found a spot in front of the Steerhouse Restaurant. Cade cut the engine, strode to her side, and opened her door. Maybe it was only men in uniform who were overly polite, but she enjoyed the attention.
She’d never eaten at the Steerhouse before. “You come here often?” she asked.
“Not as often as I’d like even though I can attest to the fact they have the best steak in town.” He placed a palm on her back and some strange sensation rippled up her spine. She’d spent days disliking this man, yet this person was totally different.
They stepped inside and she glanced around. The lattice back chairs, low-hung lights, and bar added to the cozy atmosphere. “I like the wooden vaulted ceiling. It gives the place a rustic look.”