A Stranger She Can Trust

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A Stranger She Can Trust Page 18

by Regan Black


  “Looks like the knee’s improved,” Grant said, giving him a pleased nod.

  Carson hadn’t thought about his knee since... Well, he didn’t remember when he’d stopped thinking about it. At Lissa’s house, he realized. Not once had he felt so much as an unfavorable twinge going up and down her stairs. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the analysis would have to wait. “Guess I am feeling good.”

  “Time heals all wounds.” Grant delivered the line with the irreverence of a man who knew he was spouting crap. “Jennings tells me you’re an asset out here.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to come by personally. You, ah, deserve a heads-up on this.” Grant paced away from the house, giving Carson time to follow.

  “On what?” The good sweat he’d worked up while laying the floor went cold on his skin.

  “Werner called. He found a connection between Sarah and Noelle.”

  “Sarah and I transported several patients to the hospital where Noelle worked.”

  “But you didn’t know Noelle,” Grant pointed out. “Not by name or by face when Werner showed you the pictures at the police station.”

  “Well, that hardly signifies.” Carson stopped himself before he blathered on defending Sarah when no defense was needed. “How does the detective think they know each other?”

  Grant looked out over the street, up at the house, and sighed. “He tells me he’s looking into them both as suppliers.”

  “No.” Carson reared back as if Grant had thrown a punch at him. “That’s not Sarah. No,” he repeated.

  “It explains the attack on your rig,” Grant began.

  “So does the truth. That was a crime of opportunity.” He swiped at the sweat gathering on his forehead. “That’s what they said, officially. Crime of opportunity.”

  “I’m just telling you how it’s shaping up for the investigation.”

  “He’d better keep right on looking until he finds the criminals responsible. You knew Sarah. Her worst offense was sarcasm.”

  “I know this isn’t welcome news.” Grant pitched his voice low. “You know how these things go. Cop work is all about pulling strings and following them, one after another.”

  “He can damn well pull another string.” Carson’s hands fisted at his sides. “Sarah wasn’t working with any drug dealer.” He choked back the indignation and temper clawing for an outlet. “Noelle and Lissa were best friends. If Sarah had been connected to Noelle, Lissa would’ve known her or heard the name, something.”

  Grant’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve told Lissa about Sarah?”

  “A little,” Carson said, not liking the look on Grant’s face. The expression, a mixture of wonder and hope, made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t ready to analyze whatever was happening on a personal level with Lissa. “She dug up the obituary and news articles. The point is, this is a wild-goose chase.”

  “Noelle protected Lissa from her unsavory side work,” Grant interjected. “Unless she’s remembered something else you haven’t had a chance to mention.”

  Carson shook his head, folding his arms over his chest and daring Grant to push him further. “Sarah was not dealing drugs.”

  “I understand.” The older man turned to face the house. His salt-and-pepper hair, close-cropped, didn’t shift as Carson’s did in the morning breeze. “Werner is one of the good guys,” he said.

  “So was Sarah.” He told himself her memory, her honor were worth every ounce of his belligerence. “I’ll cooperate if the detective has valid questions.”

  “That’s all any of us can do.”

  “Is he doing anything to find the crew that tried to kidnap Lissa?”

  “It’s all part and parcel,” Grant said.

  When Grant didn’t elaborate, Carson shifted his feet. He didn’t need more pregnant pauses today. “This connection between Noelle and Sarah is why Evelyn wants me to come in to headquarters?”

  “Can’t say. The woman is determined to get you back full-time.”

  “I’m not ready,” Carson said, feeling like he was chewing rocks. Caught without the excuse of a pained knee, he knew he’d just given Grant more information than he planned on. Better Grant think him smitten and distracted with Lissa than a coward who couldn’t overcome a tragedy on the job. Everyone had to deal with challenges along the way. It came with a career in public service.

  Grant shoved his hands into his pockets. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

  Carson felt like a jerk, snapping at the one person who’d been more help than anyone since Sarah’s murder. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Frustrated, Carson checked the time on his phone and stalked back into the house. He’d finish the master-bedroom floor and then make time to stop by Evelyn’s office. The sooner he cleared up whatever had them looking at Sarah as an accomplice or whatever, the sooner Werner would get back on the right trail.

  * * *

  Lissa was in the midst of a highly productive day when a summons from security interrupted her as she was wrapping up her afternoon break. It seemed Detective Werner needed a word.

  Elaine, along with everyone else on the team, was curious as Lissa met him at the elevator and led him to the conference room, where they could speak privately.

  “How are you feeling today?” There was a concern in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, and strangely enough, it put her on edge.

  “I’m well, thank you. It helps knowing you have someone close by watching out for me.”

  “There were a couple of details in your statement I’ve been trying to confirm,” he said.

  “Okay.” She didn’t have anything to hide, but she wasn’t sure what she could add.

  “The cab driver picked you up on the Penn campus.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “I woke up in the parking garage bathroom near the hospital and stumbled out into the street. It’s a little blurry, but when a cab pulled over, I showed the driver the Escape Club matchbook. What are you getting at?”

  “I’m concerned about the order of events. You were drugged and beaten. Aware of what they were doing to Noelle.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “I guess they thought they gave me a lethal dose and dumped me in the bathroom.”

  “Why didn’t they kill you with Noelle when they had the chance to tie up loose ends?”

  A question she’d been wrestling with, as well. “Isn’t it your job to figure that out? Have you found the man and woman who attacked me?”

  “I’ve got a team on that, but the crew has crawled under a very quiet rock,” Werner said.

  Lissa discovered she was burned out on tears and fearfulness. She didn’t feel courageous, but she would not cower or hide until it was over. “Is there anything else?”

  “I’ll go speak with the Ansons by the end of the week.” The detective drummed his fingers lightly on his notebook. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not eager to dump bad news on grieving families.”

  “You have a difficult job,” Lissa said.

  He snorted. “Do you recall Noelle ever mentioning Sarah Neely’s name?”

  Lissa was tempted to give him a quick answer and forced herself to take her time. “No. I’ve heard the name only from Carson and you, after someone shot at us on the roof.”

  Sarah’s face was burned into her memory after she’d gone looking for information on Monday, but she didn’t recall any connection to Noelle. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m still following leads, making connections.” He stood up, handed her another business card. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

  She didn’t know how to convince him she wasn’t hiding anything. “The break-in and fire must be connected to Noelle,” she said.

  “I believe so,” he agreed.

 
“And they came after me because Noelle told them she left something there.”

  “That’s not a bad bet.” He sighed. “It only makes sense to come after you for information or to silence you,” he admitted.

  “I’ve told you everything.” She met his gaze, willing him to understand. “Noelle hid this part of her life from me. I can’t figure out how anyone convinced her to do this.”

  “Unfortunately, that makes two of us.”

  He walked out, leaving Lissa at the elevator, wondering if they’d ever get to the bottom of this. If they didn’t, would she ever be safe? With the skills and education to follow in the footsteps of her parents, she could leave Philly behind and keep moving. A local drug dealer couldn’t possibly have the resources or inclination to follow her, but was that choice worth the price?

  It was hard to argue against a solution that kept her alive.

  Bad people thought she knew something or had something they wanted. That was probably the only reason she was alive. Noelle had sheltered her from this side of her life, right up until they were attacked. Her friend would never have willingly led her into trouble. She knew that deep in her heart.

  Returning to her desk, Lissa opened a notebook and spent the next fifteen minutes making notes of everything she could remember about the last week of Noelle’s life. She turned the page and made a list of questions. Then she shoved the notebook into her purse and focused on the job she loved for the rest of the day.

  She was not going to run away from Noelle’s trouble, and she wasn’t going to sacrifice a career and lifestyle she loved because she was too afraid to stick it out.

  She’d planted roots, damn it, and she intended to sink them deep.

  * * *

  Carson was cooling his heels in the hallway outside Evelyn’s office. He’d gone back home and cleaned up, deliberately choosing business casual attire with a dress shirt, khakis and polished loafers over the PFD paramedic uniform.

  Her door opened and a blond man walked out, face red with temper under a fierce scowl shading his brown eyes. Both he and Carson did a quick double take. “Yardley?” Carson stood up and extended a hand, clasped his old friend’s hand.

  He and Brett Yardley had gone through training together, and both of them had counted Sarah a close friend. Sarah had crushed on Brett for a while, spending many a call discussing the pros and cons of crossing that line. As far as Carson knew, she never had.

  Yardley jerked his head toward the end of the hallway and lowered his voice. “She called you, too?” he asked, watching the hallway behind Carson.

  The bottom dropped out of Carson’s stomach, fearing the worst. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Hell if I know.” Yardley threw up his hands. “I hadn’t seen Sarah for over a month when you two were attacked.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Now Evelyn drags me away from a shift for a damn witch hunt.”

  Great. Carson wrapped one hand around the other fist, massaging at the building tension. No way was this meeting solely about convincing Carson to return to full-time, active status.

  “Just because the cops can’t find her killer doesn’t mean she was dirty,” Yardley continued, taking a step back toward the office. “Come on. The two of us can talk some sense into her.”

  Carson stepped in front of him. “Evelyn knew Sarah and respected her like we did. Whoever she calls in will say the same.” He sighed.

  Yardley muttered a curse. “Rumors and red tape. As if we don’t have enough of a challenge out there already. Good luck,” he said and stalked away.

  Uncertainty dogging his steps, Carson returned to Evelyn’s office and rapped on the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He did, and closed the door behind him. Hovering somewhere shy of fifty, Evelyn wore her decades of experience with the PFD and paramedic services well. She led her department by example in everything from physical fitness to continuing education, and it showed in her tanned skin, sleek runner’s body and bright mind. Though they were night and day in appearance, Evelyn reminded him of what Sarah might have become.

  Her head down, short cap of blond hair gleaming under the overhead light, she continued making notes by hand in a file. “Take a seat,” she added without looking up. “Just need to finish my thought.”

  Carson waited until she looked up. “I made time.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled, but it wasn’t the bright, near-cocky expression he was used to. No, this smile was fatigued, until she glanced at her notes and it faded entirely. “I need to ask you some tough questions.” She rolled her pen between her thumb and fingers. “The police believe they have a link between a recent murder victim and Sarah.”

  He bit back a spontaneous defense of his partner. It wasn’t as if he’d been blind to Sarah’s faults. Since Grant’s warning, he’d run through several potential versions of this conversation. “You’re referring to the Noelle Anson case?”

  Her pale eyebrows climbed high on her forehead. “You knew Noelle?”

  “No,” Carson replied immediately. “I know her best friend, Melissa Baxter.” He decided to keep it clinical. “Miss Baxter showed up at the club on Friday night, disoriented and battered. Grant Sullivan and I gave her assistance.”

  Evelyn pursed her lips. “You’re still helping her, according to Detective Werner, who ruined my schedule first thing this morning.”

  Carson waited her out this time.

  “He’s convinced Sarah knew Noelle.” Evelyn closed her eyes and rubbed the pressure point between her eyebrows with her thumb. “Can you shed any light on that for me?”

  “No. I never saw them together.”

  Evelyn reviewed specific incidents and reports until her questions eventually veered toward the protocols on the ambulance. Definitely a witch hunt. Carson told her in several different ways that he couldn’t recall a single instance in which Sarah had acted inappropriately during a call or they’d found errors in the ambulance inventory.

  “You never saw her speaking to anyone near the rig who had no reason to be there?” Evelyn pressed.

  “No.” Carson gripped the arms of the chair, prepared to stand. “Are we done?”

  Evelyn’s lips pursed again. “Not yet.”

  He remained at the edge of the seat. “What else can I tell you? Sarah wasn’t a perfect person, but she was clean.”

  Evelyn continued to roll the pen between thumb and fingers, back and forth. “Walk me through your routine after patients were transferred to ER care.”

  “What?”

  “I believe you understand the question, Carson. Did Sarah stay with you, take a minute to chat with friends, grab a soda?” She leaned forward. “Walk me through it.”

  It had been over eight months since he’d handled a routine patient transfer with Sarah, but that was no excuse. “Sarah believed in helping people. She was direct to a fault, but honest. You know that.”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  In his head he spewed an ugly curse. “All right,” he replied with far more calm than he felt as his gut churned. “Neither of us made a habit of wasting time with socializing after a transfer, although both of us often exchanged words with individuals we knew. We took our bathroom breaks separately. Typically we were together for the paperwork, the cleaning and restocking. You remember how that goes. We weren’t glued at the hip every hour, but she didn’t disappear frequently, either.”

  “No phone calls she didn’t want to explain?”

  “No.” Toward the end there had been days when she texted like crazy. Carson shoved the thought aside. They were making him paranoid, forcing him to second-guess every action his best friend had ever made. No one held up to that kind of scrutiny if the end goal was perfection. “You realize it’s professional coincidence that as health care experts, Noelle and Sar
ah were in similar places at similar times.”

  “Carson, I should warn you, the detective has more than that to support his claim. If you’re hiding something to protect Sarah or Melissa, now’s the time to come clean.”

  He understood why Yardley had left the meeting in a temper. “I’ve got nothing to add. Whatever they think they have on Sarah, I never saw her do anything remotely illegal. Not even borderline. She was a fine paramedic, and she pushed me to give my best every day. I’m glad I worked with her.”

  He pushed up and out of the chair, not waiting to be excused this time.

  “Carson.”

  He stopped, barely, one hand on the doorknob.

  “You gave your best every day, every shift,” Evelyn said. “The two of you were an excellent team.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “We can agree on that.”

  “No one in this department blamed you when she died,” she added. “If the incident had happened to any other paramedics, you would have pointed out everything they’d done right, yet you won’t consider giving yourself the same grace.”

  Incident. The word was too clean for the nasty attack. “Don’t try to tell me it was her fault.”

  “I’m not.” Evelyn sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Like you, I can’t find a single cause for concern in her record, and yet the police are sure they are on the right track.”

  He strode back to the guest chair, bracing his hand on the backrest. “They can’t be, Evelyn.”

  “Your rig was robbed, your partner shot. If it wasn’t a random criminal act, if there is a bigger threat at work here, you know I’ll do everything in my power to protect this department.”

  “That I understand,” he admitted. “But it’s been eight months.” He stopped short, working to recall the exact number of days. “If there was something bigger going on, wouldn’t you have your hands full with other attacks on ambulances?”

  “I’d think so. The police aren’t so sure.” She swiveled from side to side in her chair. “I appreciate you coming in. This wasn’t easy for either of us.”

  He didn’t envy her position. “Have a good day, Evelyn.”

 

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