She stood slightly in front of him. Her posture, with shoulders slumped, attested to her exhaustion. He’d cared so much for her while they’d grown up together. But at her wedding, he’d known he had to move on. The hardest thing he’d had to do was watch her marry another man. That day at the reception, as Rebecca and Garrett toasted each other, he’d sealed his heart against getting hurt again. He had left San Antonio, made a life for himself, dated, and even got engaged. His job had interfered with that relationship, and he and his fiancée had ended up deciding not to get married.
The doors slid open, and he pushed away from the wall and placed his hand at the small of Rebecca’s back as they exited the elevator. At the end of the corridor, the police officer sat in a chair outside Thomas’s room. The lights in the hallway were dimmed. Quiet reigned, except for two staff members talking behind the counter at the nurses’ station.
At least he didn’t have to admit his dad tonight.
Rebecca stopped at the counter. “How’s Thomas Sinclair been doing? I’m his sister and thought I would stop in to see him. I know it’s in the middle of the night, but I was with a friend in the ER.”
The older woman set aside a chart she was holding. “I recognize your picture from the news about the Petrov trial. I hope he’s put away for good. Your brother’s status hasn’t changed. Holding his own.”
“Thanks. I won’t be long.”
After they both showed proper ID to the officer, Brody held the door open for Rebecca. Although the young man knew who she was, Brody was glad he asked for identification.
Inside, only one light illuminated the area, but machines continued to monitor Thomas, who lay in the bed, cocooned in a white sheet and blue blanket. Seeing his childhood friend like that made his throat tighten. What if he woke up and couldn’t walk again? What if he never woke up? Thomas had always been so full of life. He was a good man who loved the Lord and tried to live as Christ would want him to, giving a helping hand to others when they needed it.
Was that why he couldn’t bring himself to believe this wasn’t anything but an accident?
Rebecca stood next to the bed, her face in the soft shadows created by the dim lighting, her long auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, the way she liked to wear it when she wasn’t in court. “He looks peaceful. The doctors assure me he isn’t in any pain. That makes the waiting a little better.” She looked up at Brody, her eyes shimmering. “But not much.”
Brody came to her side and took her hand. “I know it seems we can’t do much for him, but we can pray.”
“I need to do more than that. My prayers haven’t helped so far.”
“How do you know? He’s alive and stable. A week ago we thought he would die.”
“You’re right. That’s my frustration talking.”
“And the fact is, you haven’t had much sleep.” Lifting her hand, he placed it against his chest. “Father, please heal Thomas and make him whole and well again. He is in Your capable and loving hands.”
With her head bowed and eyes closed, Rebecca whispered, “Amen.”
A tear leaked out from between her eyelashes and ran down her cheek. The sight of it constricted his chest until it was difficult to draw in even a shallow breath. He hated seeing her hurt. He hated being helpless to change the situation.
He turned her toward him and brushed his finger across her cheek. Their gazes locked together, he cradled her face between his hands. “It’s hard having to stand back and let God do His work.”
“I’m used to being in control. As a judge. As a prosecutor. But with this situation, I have no control. Not with my brother. Not with what’s happening around me. It makes me sympathize with the people whom these gangs have terrorized and have robbed of control over their own lives.”
“You think you have control? Really? What about three years ago?”
She frowned. “When my life fell apart?” She dropped her head for a few seconds.
When she looked at him again, he glimpsed fear in her expression. “How much time do you spend worrying about that control—planning your life down to the smallest detail?”
“I’ve always been a very organized person,” Rebecca replied.
“I’m not talking about organization. I’m talking about setting down plans and getting uptight when they don’t work out the way you want.”
Her mouth quirked into a grin. “Lately—this past week—not much at all, especially with Kim and Aubrey. It’s not easy with children around.”
“I can imagine. Why didn’t you have children? You’re good with your nieces.”
“My plan,” her chuckle full of derision filled the air, “was to wait until after I was thirty, then the judgeship came up and I wanted to get settled in the job before we started a family. I thought I had all the time in the world.”
“Do you want children?” he asked and regretted the question the second it left his mouth.
“Yes. How about you?”
“I haven’t thought about it much lately.”
“But you used to?”
“I was engaged in Amarillo. We talked about having a family.”
“You were engaged? Thomas never told me that.”
“Because I didn’t tell him.”
“Why not?”
“We were engaged a month and decided to break it off. Or rather I decided.” The tense set of his shoulders made them throb with pain. He didn’t want to get into this conversation with her.
“Why?”
He’d known she would ask and he still couldn’t come up with an answer he wanted to give her. Her gaze was fixed on him, demanding the truth. “She wasn’t you.”
Rebecca’s mouth fell open.
He gently closed her mouth and gave her a smile, meant to reassure her that it was all right. “It was a year after I left here. I dated Emily on the rebound. I thought I’d accepted your marriage and the fact that you didn’t want to date me because we were good friends.”
“I could talk to you about anything. I didn’t want to ruin that. I didn’t . . .” Her voice came to a quavering halt. “I’m sorry. Your friendship meant so much to me. I didn’t want to change it.”
“I get it. You couldn’t control me.”
She stepped back. “What do you mean?”
“I saw how you wrapped Garrett around your finger. Everything had to be your way.”
Her cheeks flamed. “That’s not true—okay, maybe. But I’ve mellowed over the years. I was young, had just finished law school, and was ready to take on the world.”
And he’d been there the whole time. Until he had realized he wanted more than friendship. The best thing he’d done was to move. He’d focused on his career and become a Texas Ranger on his first try.
“Don’t worry. All those imagined feelings I had died a natural death. I moved on with my life and haven’t regretted what I’ve accomplished. I realized I don’t want to get married. I like my independence. The ability to do what I need to do without answering to someone else. So you did me a favor.” Liar. He thrust that word from his mind. No, he was content.
“We’re still friends?”
“Of course. That will never change. You were right. That was the best thing for both of us.”
“Yeah, right.” She shifted toward the bed and took her brother’s hand. “Tommy, please get better. I want to hear you laugh. I miss your teasing.”
Thomas flinched, his hand falling from her light grasp.
“Did you see that? He moved.” Rebecca pressed the nurse’s call button. “Maybe he’s waking up.”
Thomas’s eyes opened wide for a second, then closed.
“He is!” Rebecca punched the button again. “Maybe they can do something to help him come out of it.”
As the nurse came into the room, Thomas twitched again.
Rebecca pointed at her brother. “He’s moving. He’s coming out of the coma.”
The nurse stood on the other side of the bed, checked the monitors, and then took his
pulse, and blood pressure. Several minutes later, she said, “Sometimes patients in a coma will move but don’t wake up. We’ll monitor him, and if he does wake up, we’ll give you a call right away.”
When the nurse left, Rebecca touched her brother’s face. “I don’t want him to wake up and no one be here for him. I’m going to stay for a while.”
Brody clasped her arms from behind. “Let’s at least sit down on the couch. I know you’re exhausted. You know the saying, a watched pot won’t boil, or something like that. Rest, and if something happens, we’ll be here.”
“You don’t have to stay. I have the officer outside if something goes wrong. You have to take your dad home.”
He tugged her toward the couch and set her down, then settled next to her. “I’m not going anywhere. His job is to protect Thomas. Mine is to protect you. If you stay, I’m staying. I’m calling my sister to pick up Dad, and he can stay with her until I’m free. I’ll let them know down in the ER.”
She gave him a tired smile. “I’m glad you’re staying. At least go downstairs and bring your dad up here until your sister arrives. I’ll be fine for that short amount of time.”
“How about you come with me? We won’t be gone more than ten minutes.” Brody pointed toward Thomas. “He’s quiet right now.”
“You really are taking this bodyguarding seriously.”
“That’s my job, ma’am.”
Rebecca snuggled closer to the warm body next to her. Visions of Garrett morphed into Brody as she tried to surrender to a deeper sleep. A woman’s voice penetrated the haze that clouded her mind. She opened her eyelids up halfway.
She saw Thomas lying in his bed, sunlight streaming through the slits in the blinds behind the couch. Suddenly the reason she was in Thomas’s hospital room and the awareness of who was with her caused her to bolt straight up.
“Has he moved anymore?”
“No. Not a twitch.” Brody reached behind him and pulled open the blinds.
She blinked, trying to adjust to the light that poured into the room. “What time is it?” she asked, as she fumbled to push back the long sleeve of her sweater that covered her watch. “Eight! The trial starts in an hour. I’ve got to change. Get ready.” Panic with a hint of disorientation overwhelmed her. She surged to her feet, looking around for her purse and for her shoes, which she’d taken off sometime last night—or rather, early this morning. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Brody rose. “Because you needed the rest more than a change of clothes. You wear a black robe. No one is going to care what you wear underneath. They might care if you nod off while listening to the lawyers and witnesses.”
Heat scored her cheeks. “I care. I need at least to swing by my house. We should have time to do that before going to the courthouse.” She started for the door. “I need to talk to the nurse in charge, and I’m going to call Tory to let her know about Thomas moving. If he wakes up today, I want to be notified as soon as possible.”
Brody caught her before she went out into the hallway. “Rebecca, you have to prepare yourself for the fact that he might not wake up anytime soon. Movement happens with coma patients. It doesn’t mean they’re going to wake up for sure.”
“He’s going to wake up.” The pitch of her voice rose several levels. If she said it enough, it might come true.
“That’s what I’m hoping, too. We’re on the same side here.”
She began to yank the door open but stopped and peered back at Brody. “I know. Sorry. Even though I got some sleep, it was obviously not enough.”
“Let’s go. The traffic will be heavy, and I don’t want you late for the trial. The sooner this trial is over, the better for you.”
After she talked with the head nurse and left instructions about how to reach her if Thomas’s status changed, Rebecca headed to the parking lot with Brody. Once in the car, she retrieved her cellphone from her purse and called Tory.
Her sister-in-law answered on the second ring. “Why didn’t you come home last night? Is Brody’s dad all right? Hattie told me you went with Brody to the hospital and that he had called to let her know his dad only had indigestion. She was expecting you to come home.”
“I was going to but decided to stay because I went up to see Thomas and he moved. He even opened his eyes.”
“He did?”
“Yes, only a second but surely that means something. I wanted you to know. I hate for him to wake up and not have someone there.”
“I’m on my way there right now. I’ll talk with his doctor and find out what’s going on.”
“The trial will start at nine, so let Laura know if he wakes up.”
“I will,” Tory murmured in a lackluster-sounding voice.
“Are you okay?” Rebecca shifted the cellphone to her other ear.
“Tired.”
“I hope you got more rest last night than I did.”
“I wish I could say I did. I haven’t slept well since Thomas’s accident.”
“I know. Maybe this is the beginning of his full recovery.”
“Yeah. I’ll let Hattie know what’s going on.”
“You might not say anything to the girls yet. I’d hate to get their hopes up and nothing happen for a while.”
“I agree.” Tory hung up.
Rebecca relaxed against the seat. “I know what happened last night is a good sign.”
“I hope so.” Brody turned into her subdivision.
A minute later, he had parked in Rebecca’s driveway. In this upscale area of town, her medium-sized adobe home with a tile roof fit in with the surrounding houses and their manicured yards.
Rebecca climbed from Brody’s rented car and hurried toward her front door. “It shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes.”
“Great. That’s probably all you have if you’re going to make it on time.”
Inside, as Rebecca hurriedly set her purse on the table by the entrance, she abruptly perceived the scent of rotting meat. Did I leave some meat out? I wouldn’t be surprised, with all that has happened lately. I’ve got to remember to throw it away before leaving.
She made her way toward her bedroom, her pace slowing as she neared the entrance. I didn’t turn off my alarm. I’m sure I set it when I left the last time. I think. I know . . .
She stepped into the doorway while looking back down the hall toward her control panel. An unpleasant scent accosted her nostrils at the exact moment she scrunched something beneath her shoe. Her gaze swung to the chaos before her.
Then she saw the man and screamed.
12
Rebecca froze in the entrance to her bedroom.
Blood everywhere. The scent of rotting meat stronger, nauseating.
Nothing left untouched.
A man propped up on her bed, his death-filled eyes staring right at her.
A hand clamped on her shoulder and dragged her out of the doorway. “Go into the living room. I’ll take care of this.”
“No, I’m not leaving your side.”
“Then stay right there.” Brody picked his way across the room to the bed and examined the body carefully staged on top of her rumpled sheets. “Do you know this man?”
She had avoided looking at him after the initial few seconds. Slowly she ran her gaze up the length of the man, flinching at the blood covering him. Then she spied his gutted stomach, and her own stomach roiled. She swiveled away. Bile rose in her throat, and she covered her mouth to keep from getting sick. She couldn’t. She raced for the bathroom down the hall and barely made it to the sink before throwing up.
She couldn’t rid her mind of the picture of the mutilated dead man in the very bed she slept in. But his face had been left intact—enough, at least, that she knew who it was.
The witness who had given his protection team the slip.
Or had he?
“Rebecca, I’m so sorry you had to see that.” Brody wrapped her in an embrace.
She burrowed deep into the shelter of his arms for a moment.
As a prosecutor, she had witnessed horrible crime scenes, but nothing like what she’d just seen in her own home. The body, not of a stranger, but of someone she had interacted with in the courtroom. So much death. When will it end?
“C’mon. I’ll call it in and get you out of here.”
She pulled back. “Give me a sec.”
He backed out of the bathroom and gave her some privacy. She rinsed the sink out, then splashed some cold water onto her face before brushing her teeth, each action done as though on autopilot. She wished she could wash the memories away as easily. But she would never forget what she’d seen.
When she left the bathroom, Brody stood right outside the door. He finished a call and put his cell away. “I’m checking the rest of the house. The man has been dead for a while, so I doubt anyone else is here, but I want to make sure.”
“I’m tagging along.”
“That’s what I thought you would say.” Brody quickly moved through the rooms, examining any place a person could hide.
When they ended up in the living room, she sank down on the couch. The short survey left her drained. She’d half-expected to find someone in the house, waiting. “That’s the missing witness. One mystery solved.”
“And another opened.”
“Isn’t it obvious who killed this man? Why else put him in my bed for me to find? A loud and clear message has been sent.”
“This man was killed in the same manner as the one left in the alley behind Alexandrov’s pawnshop.”
“So the same man killed both of them. One a traitor to the Russian Mafia. The other not competent in doing his job. But I’m still alive.” A bubble of hysteria swelled inside her, coming toward the surface. She couldn’t fall apart. Too many people depended on her.
“As much as I would love to pin this on Alexandrov and his men, I don’t know if they did it. Some things didn’t add up at the other crime scene.”
Scorned Justice: The Men of Texas Rangers Series #3 (Men of the Texas Rangers) Page 14