“Easy there. I’ve got you.” He looped an arm around her waist, and this time when she tried to pull free he merely tightened his hold. “Don’t be stupid. It’s okay to lean sometimes.”
Since when? she thought with a snort at the memory of long-ago conversations that were suddenly too fresh in her mind. But she didn’t ask the question aloud, because she’d be damned if she went back there. It was one thing for a few memories to break through in a stressful situation, quite another to acknowledge the memories to the man who starred in them.
So instead, she said, “Where are we going?”
“The Chinatown police station. We’ll need to go over your statement.” The growl in his voice made Mandy aware of a subtle tension that vibrated through his body.
That, combined with too many other things not lining up, brought latent suspicions flaring to life. A slew of questions suddenly jammed her brain, but she held silent as he led her out of the alley and over to an empty patrol car and ushered her into the backseat, then motioned for her to slide over so he could climb in.
The moment he shut the door, a uniformed officer climbed into the driver’s seat, fired up the engine and pulled away from the scene, without a word spoken between the two men. The silent orchestration made Mandy nervous, made her feel as though some unclear fate had already been decided for her.
None of it made any sense. Why had Radcliff been following her? Why the massive police response for a mugging?
And why did the head of the BoGen Emergency Services Department have a police detective on speed-dial?
Making a desperate stab at organizing the questions that spun through her already rattled brain, she said, “Radcliff, what the—”
He held up a hand, cutting her off midquestion. “Not yet, okay? Stankowski will do a better job explaining. He’s meeting us at the station.”
But though there was a certain logic to that, she got the impression it wasn’t the real reason he’d cut her off. When his eyes flicked over to her and away in the glow of passing streetlights, she thought she saw a stir of something in his normally chill expression, making her wonder if he’d felt the faint shimmer of attraction sparking between them back in the alley.
Right. And he’s really been pining for you all these years, too, snapped her more rational side. Grow up.
Those last two words resonated from the memory of their last night together, making her lean away from him and stare out the window as she fought to reorient herself, knowing that no matter how much she might’ve wanted to romanticize what had happened between them, he hadn’t really wanted her in his life back then any more than he did now. That was fine with her, too, because he was firmly entrenched in the city and its largest hospital. She, on the other hand, was out of there the moment the Meade Fellowship came through.
“We’re here,” he announced as the officer pulled the patrol car to the curb outside the Chinatown police station. “Come on.”
Once the officer opened the rear door, Radcliff climbed out, then held out a hand and waited for her, as though he thought she might collapse, or maybe make a run for it. But she did neither, ignoring his proffered hand to climb out of the car under her own power and stalk up the carved granite steps leading to the police station, leaving him to follow at her heels.
She paused when she reached the main lobby, where a cross-section of Bostonians waited on padded benches, some chatting or reading dog-eared magazines, others glaring off into space.
“Through here.” Radcliff led her across the lobby, waving to the two uniformed desk officers, who were attending to a straggling line of people from behind the safety of a chest-high desk and a slab of clear, bulletproof Plexiglas.
The thought of someone walking into the lobby and shooting up a police station didn’t seem nearly as far-fetched to Mandy as it might have only hours earlier, and she suppressed a shiver as she headed down a short hallway in Radcliff’s wake.
Nearly to the end of the hall, past a rest room and several offices, Radcliff paused, opened a door and ushered her through into what proved to be a small conference room. The walls were lined with file-stuffed bookshelves, and a large table filled the center of the space, surrounded by a dozen or so utilitarian chairs. An American flag hung in one corner, adding a patriotic dash to the functional space.
There was a second door in the far wall, and before Mandy had gotten her bearings, it swung open and Detective Stankowski strode through.
As before, her first impression was of a darkly handsome man in his early thirties, maybe two or three years older than her. This time, though, she noticed that when his eyes flicked from her to Radcliff and back, the world-weariness in them shifted ever so slightly, giving her the feeling that she was missing something when he took her hand and once again held it a beat too long before guiding her to a chair. As she sat, he said, “Are you sure you’re up for this, Dr. Sparks? Parker says you took a pretty good crack to the head back in that alley.”
“She’s fine,” Radcliff broke in. He stepped in front of Stankowski to pull out the chair beside hers, forcing the detective to give way. “Let’s get on with this.”
Deciding to ignore the brittle undercurrent between the two men for the time being, Mandy waited until Stankowski had taken a seat opposite her, where he arranged a stack of folders and then popped open a slim laptop computer and tapped a few keys. Turning toward Radcliff—she wouldn’t think of him as Parker because that was a name he reserved for his friends and she was feeling far from friendly—she narrowed her eyes. “Okay, we’re here, so let’s have your explanation, and make it good. How about starting with why you followed me tonight?”
Radcliff leaned back in his chair. “You’ve got it backward—I didn’t follow you. I headed for the alley after work for the same reason you did. Lucky for you, we were on the same schedule.”
“You—” Mandy broke off, confused. “Why would you care about that alley?”
“For the same reason you do—because that’s where Irene Dulbecco was attacked a few days before she died.”
“You read my notes?”
He nodded, expression still giving nothing away. “I was in a meeting when she came in, or I would’ve grabbed her case. As it was, I didn’t hear about her until it was too late.”
A chill chased its way down Mandy’s spine as she began to add it up.
“You’ve seen something like this before.” She glanced at the detective, who was watching her as if expecting—what? What sort of response could she possibly have? “You’re working together,” she finally said. “But why? Radcliff isn’t a cop. At least he wasn’t back when—”
“I’m not,” he interrupted quickly, making her think he didn’t want the detective to know about their past history. He continued, “I dug a bullet out of Stankowski here a few years ago. Ever since then, he’s called me when he gets a case that involves something medical.” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s a nice change from grant writing. But I work very hard to keep this stuff separate from BoGen.”
“Until now,” Stankowski said. He spun the laptop around to face Mandy. On the screen was a computer-generated sketch of a figure wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt and a surgical mask. Above the mask, his eyes were light gray and coldly calculating.
Or maybe the calculation was in her mind, borne on the shiver that started in her gut and worked its way through her body, squeezing the air from her lungs until she was almost unable to breathe. “Oh God. That’s him. That’s the man who attacked me in the alley.” She closed her eyes, trying to blot out the fear of memory. “But you already knew that.”
When she opened her eyes, the detective had closed the laptop. He nodded.
“How many other people has he attacked?” she whispered through a suddenly dry throat.
“Four including you,” Radcliff said, his voice resonating with the deadly sort of calm she’d heard from him only once before, when he’d told her it was over between them. “Of the other three, two ar
e dead and one is missing.” He paused a beat. “You know what that makes you?”
Fear spiked, followed by numbing disbelief, but she nodded, glancing from Radcliff to the detective and back. “That makes me your star witness.”
“As far as we’re concerned, you’re a witness,” Radcliff said. “As far as the killer is concerned, you’re a liability.” His voice changed, roughening. “Damn it, why didn’t you listen to me? I told you to leave the Dulbecco case alone.”
“I couldn’t,” Mandy whispered. Her breath backed up in her lungs when she remembered the syringe, and that terrible moment when the man had held her down and aimed the needle. If he’d managed to inject her with the clear fluid…
She thought of Irene, who’d writhed in pain despite heavy doses of morphine, and the battery of tests she’d run, only to have all the levels come back within normal limits. Her brain spun with terrible questions, like what in God’s name was in that syringe? What would have happened to her if Radcliff hadn’t gotten there in time to save her?
More importantly, what was going to happen next?
Chapter Three
“I want you out of here starting now,” Parker said. “Take a couple of weeks off. Go someplace nice and chill out.” He managed to dredge up what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll clear it with your boss.”
But instead of jumping at the chance, as any other member of his staff would have, she shook her head, her face set in familiar stubborn lines. “Not on your life. I’m a doctor and Irene Dulbecco was my patient. If there’s any way I can help figure out what was done to her and prevent it from happening to someone else, then that’s what I need to do.”
And there it is, Parker thought on a bite of temper. He’d once warned her that her damned wide-eyed idealism was going to get her in trouble. He hadn’t figured on being there to watch it happen, though, and he hadn’t expected the trouble would be of the life-or-death variety.
Maybe he should’ve known better. Mandy was the sort of person who attracted controversy and chaos—heck, as far as he could tell, she went looking for it. Why else would a prominent surgeon’s daughter become the sort of doctor who’d rather prescribe acupuncture than antibiotics? And that was only the latest incarnation of her hidden rebellious streak as far as he was concerned. Back during her rotation through Boston General, she’d driven him crazy by…well, that was just it. She’d driven him crazy at a time when he’d needed to concentrate on himself, and the job.
Now, she was just plain crazy herself. Only a whacko would’ve gone into that alley alone. If he hadn’t been there—
His mind locked on the image of Mandy hospitalized, writhing with a pain he couldn’t control, couldn’t cure, and the hell of it roughened his tone. “The time off wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. I want you out of here, and I’ll see that it happens if I have to load you on a plane to California myself.”
“Why California, so I can hide at my daddy’s place?” Instead of looking angry or defensive, or any of the half-dozen other emotions he’d been trying to provoke, she rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been far too impressed with my father and his reputation. Why is that, I wonder?”
Parker gritted his teeth. “What part of you could be dying right now do you not understand?”
“I understand it just fine. I’m just not letting it chase me off.”
Her words might be defiant, but she paled as she said them, and the pallor brought out the dark smudge of a bruise high on her cheek.
Instead of marring her classic beauty, the injury only enhanced it, reminding Parker that she might be tough enough to stand up to him in the hospital, but she was no physical match for a madman determined to do her harm.
Knowing it, he stood up and leaned over her, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair and crowding her with his body until she leaned back to avoid him. “You’re too smart to be this stupid, Mandy. You saw Irene Dulbecco. Do you really want to end up just like her?”
In the wake of his shout, angry silence vibrated in the room.
Stankowski finally stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough. Parker, sit down and stop being a jerk. And you—” he turned to Mandy “—don’t try to be a hero. Parker and I have this under control, and we’ll have a better chance of finding this guy if he’s not worrying about your safety.”
She snorted, but didn’t contradict him, instead saying, “I know it’s probably no use telling you guys not to worry about me, given the circumstances. But you’re not considering the other option.”
“There is no other option,” Parker said flatly.
“Of course there is,” Mandy countered. “In fact I see two.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “One, you let me help you. I assume you’ve tested the bodies for the most common pain-inducing toxins?”
Parker nodded reluctantly. “Yes, we have. That doesn’t mean we’re looking for an herb, though.”
“Aha!” She stabbed a finger at him. “That means you’ve thought it might be a botanical, or you wouldn’t even mention the possibility. Since I know far more than you do about traditional medicine, I can help, and I’m darned well volunteering whether you like it or not. It’s my job to heal my patients, and if possible prevent them from becoming patients in the first place.”
Parker wanted to argue the point but couldn’t, because that was pretty much what he’d told himself when he’d first started taking time away from his duties at BoGen in order to help Stankowski. That, and it had appealed to his sense of duty. He’d never wanted to be a cop like his mother had been, but somehow he’d wound up in that world accidentally, and had found he liked it. It had filled a void, offering a challenge he hadn’t known he was looking for until it had appeared.
But that was him, not Mandy. She didn’t belong in this world any more than he belonged in hers.
“You said there were two options,” Stankowski said cautiously. “What’s the second?”
“It’s simple,” she said, though Parker noticed that she’d knotted her fingers tightly together in her lap. “You said it yourself, I’m unfinished business. I’ve seen the killer’s face, at least some of it, and he has my purse and keys. You want to catch him, and there’s a pretty good bet he’ll come for me sooner or later. Why not use me—and my apartment—as bait?”
Mandy braced herself for Radcliff to erupt. Instead the very air around him seemed to drop a few degrees in temperature. He gritted his teeth and growled. “Not. An. Option.”
Under any other circumstance, with any other man, she would’ve snapped at the dictatorial tone. As it was, she found herself hesitating.
The Radcliff she remembered hadn’t possessed such chill control. He’d been loud and domineering, but she’d quickly learned that a big chunk of it was a shield, that beneath the prickles and bluster was a man of fiery temper and a rare but wonderful humor. At the time, he’d said that wasn’t the real Parker Radcliff, that she’d brought out something in him that he couldn’t explain. Before things between them had fallen apart, she’d tried to help him believe that the other, warmer man was the real him.
Now, she realized she’d been the one living in a delusion, or maybe he’d made his belief into a reality, because there was no warmth in the man looking at her now. There was no fire, practically no life in his cold, dark eyes.
A huge shiver crawled up the back of her neck, but she kept her voice even. “I’m not leaving. I think you know I can be as stubborn as you. You can either accept my help, or…” She trailed off, then said simply, “Please let me help. I want to do this. I need to do this. I know how it feels not to have answers.”
Though there had been plenty of evidence in her mother’s death, the LAPD had been unable to make an arrest. Eventually they—and her father—had just let it go.
Mandy, however, still saw her mother’s body in her dreams.
Stankowski held up a hand. “Okay, let’s take a time-out here.” He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “It’s nearly midnight and I came on s
hift early this morning…The crime scene techs will let me know if they get anything from the alley. We’re still waiting on some of the tests from Dulbecco’s body, but so far the info from her hasn’t added anything we didn’t already know.” He exhaled a frustrated breath. “I’m tired, and I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere tonight. I vote we call it a night and sleep on things, then reconvene in the morning and make some decisions about Dr. Sparks.”
“Call me Mandy, please, and that sounds like a plan to me.” Relieved by the prospect of rest, but more determined than ever to be part of the investigation, she said, “I’d like to take a look at the other victims’ medical files tonight, if that’s okay. Maybe I’ll see something that you guys missed.” If she could prove her worth, she thought, maybe Stankowski would overrule Radcliff’s objections to her involvement.
Why are you so determined to put yourself in the middle of this? her insidious voice of reason asked.
Mandy gritted her teeth and told herself that Irene’s husband and kids deserved to know what happened. More importantly, she couldn’t just let other people die if there was some way she could help prevent it—she knew how it felt when a family member was murdered. But those answers rang vaguely false because she knew there was a good chance she’d be endangering her own life in the process, making her wonder exactly why she wasn’t already halfway to Logan Airport.
She glanced at Radcliff’s set profile, and a hard knot gathered in her stomach at the suspicion that she wasn’t doing this despite him, but rather because of him. Because she felt excited and completely, totally alive for the first time in the four years since she’d left Boston.
“What do you think?” Stankowski asked Radcliff now, seeming immune to his steely-eyed glare. Apparently taking the lack of response as an affirmative, he nodded. “Fine. Mandy can take the charts with her, and we’ll meet back here at nine tomorrow to see if she’s come up with something we missed.”
Mandy exhaled a breath of relief mixed with nerves, and started to rise. Then she hesitated. “Oh, heck. Where am I supposed to stay tonight?” She turned to Stankowski. “Can you have some men watch my apartment?”
Doctor's Orders Page 3