A couple of minutes later, a doctor enters.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Fine. Her urine sample shows she’s been given a very strong sedative.”
Steele curses.
“She wasn’t sexually abused.”
“Thank God.” I break down and cry in Steele’s arms.
“She’s okay, sweetheart. That’s the important thing.”
“We’re giving her oxygen to counteract her reduced respiratory rate. We also gave her activated charcoal to absorb the drug. But she’s strong and healthy. She’ll be up and about in a couple of days. We’d like to keep her until then.”
“Of course. Whatever she needs. Thank you, Dr.—” Somehow, I missed his name.
“Young.”
“Thank you, Dr. Young.”
“The nurse will bring you back in a few minutes so you can see her before she’s moved to a regular room.”
“I’d like to spend the night.”
“Of course.”
After she’s settled in, Steele and I bunk in Madison’s room, cuddling in the bed next to hers. She sleeps; we don’t. We spend the night checking on her to make sure she’s still breathing.
In the morning, Steele volunteers to go to the cafeteria and bring back some much-needed coffee and something to eat. Neither of us has eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. Before he returns, Madison wakes up with no apparent lasting effects from her ordeal. Great. She looks fine. I resemble roadkill.
“What happened to you?” Madison asks.
I stretch, and something creaks in my back. “Couldn’t sleep. Worried about you.”
“I’m fine. My stomach’s a little sore, that’s all.”
No sooner does she say that than a nurse arrives to take her vitals. “You’re looking good.”
“Feeling good.”
“Um. The doctor may send you home today after all.”
“I hope so. I hate hospitals.”
I yell “Maddy!” but the nurse just chuckles.
“Nothing I haven’t heard before. Now if you would kindly step out of the room,” she says to me. “I need to check her urine output.”
“Eww,” Madison says.
“Serves you right for being so rude.”
I step into the corridor in time to see Steele return with two cups of coffee and Danishes. I gobble mine down and am thinking about sending him back for more when a cry erupts from the room.
I rush in. “What happened?”
“I removed her catheter,” the nurse says calmly.
“That hurt.” Maddy’s expression is priceless.
We hang out at the hospital, but it’s pretty clear Madison’s getting antsy. An hour later the doctor shows up and examines her. Pleased with her progress, he announces she can go home.
“Yippee,” Madison yells.
Not long afterward she’s wheeled out to the front where Hunter waits for us in the SUV. After Madison’s settled in the back next to me, we head away from the hospital toward Route 7 and home.
“So does this mean I can finally stop taking all those pills?” Madison asks.
“More than likely, but you can’t quit cold turkey. I’ll call Dr. Durham and explain what Dr. Holcomb said. She’ll figure out the safest way to reduce the dosage.”
“Just so you know, the press is camped out in front of the estate,” Hunter says.
“Really?” Madison cheers up.
“They want a quote or two.”
“I’ll handle it,” Steele says. “You take them inside. Neither of you should be on camera.”
“Why not?” Madison asks.
I stare at her. “Haven’t you learned anything from your ordeal? What if another crackpot gets it into his head to kidnap you? I can’t go through this again, Maddy.” Tears roll down my face.
“Hey, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll keep a low profile over the next couple of days. I won’t even go horseback riding.”
“You can’t. Alicia’s been shot, remember?”
“It all happened so fast. One second she was standing next to me; the next she had blood pouring from her shoulder. It was horrible. Is she going to be okay?” Her former bravado has disappeared. All that’s left behind is a scared little girl.
“Yes,” Hunter says from the front. “She’ll be out of commission for a little while, but if I know her, and I do, she’ll be back in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I’ll try to find someone else to go horseback riding with you.”
“Philippe can ride with me.”
“Philippe’s not a bodyguard, Maddy. You don’t want to expose him to danger.”
Hunter joins our conversation. “If she’s up to it, Agent O’Connor needs to interview her as soon as she gets home. He’ll need the details of her ordeal.”
“How do you feel about that, Maddy?” Madrigal asks.
“Okay, I guess,” Madison says. Subdued, she stares out the window. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand how serious this is. From what she shared in the hospital, she was kept drugged most of the time, so she remembers very little, which is a blessing, really. If she can’t remember, she won’t be traumatized by the event.
When we get home, Hunter drops off Steele at the gate where the press is camped out. I probably should accompany him. I am the head of the family, after all. But all I want is to help Maddy through the FBI interview, put her to bed, get something to eat, and take a nap. But first I gotta take a bath.
No sooner do I get out of the bathroom than Cristina calls. “Querida. I just saw the news. Is Madison all right? Are you all right?”
“She’s fine. Hungry as usual. Scarfing down her lunch. Philippe’s back, so she invited him to dinner tomorrow night. That will give her something to look forward to.” After I give her the brief version of last night’s events, I say, “Honestly, I think I’m more upset than she is.”
“I’m in Miami with my folks, but I can be on the next plane if you need me.”
“No. We’re fine. Steele’s talking to the press, and Hunter is handling security.”
“Look, with everything going on, you don’t want me under your feet. I’ll find a place as soon as I can.”
“Please don’t. I like having you around the house. With all the craziness, you’re a bit of normal.”
“Well, to tell the truth, I like being there. Are you sure it’s not too much of an imposition?”
“Of course not. When are you coming back?”
“Tomorrow night. My flight arrives at Dulles around five.”
“Great. You can join us for dinner then. Should I send Hunter to pick you up? You can enjoy his fine ass on the way here.”
“He’s more than a fine ass, Madrigal.”
Uh-oh, she sounds offended. Where did that come from? “I didn’t mean to make fun of him. I know what a great guy he is. He helped with Madison’s rescue.”
“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s just—never mind. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll text you the flight details.”
“Great. See you then.” After I hang up, I wonder about her reaction. I thought she’d enjoy my comment, but maybe after Scott’s betrayal, she’s touchy about men. I shake my head. Too much to worry about at the moment to deal with that as well.
After I get dressed, I check in with Madison. Instead of resting, she’s Skyping with a friend. She’s been warned not to share any details, so I remind her of that before heading down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. A ham sandwich and a glass of milk should fill the hole in my stomach just fine. I reach the kitchen to find Olivia talking to Helga.
“You’re back!” I hug her. It’s nice to see her again. Maybe her arrival will bring back a sense of normalcy to our lives.
“Yes. Returned this morning.”
“How did you enjoy your time with your sister?”
“It was good to catch up.”
I fill her in on the events of the last week, especially last night’s.
“My poor lamb. Sh
ould I check on her?”
“No. Better leave her alone. She needs to get back to her usual routine.” Unfortunately, as future events would unfold, normal would become a thing of the past.
Chapter 34
Trenton
Since Madison needs to be debriefed after we get home, Madrigal allows the FBI to question her. A half hour later after Madrigal arranges for a meal to be brought to her, she bundles Madison upstairs for a much-needed hot bath and sleep.
Finally, the house quiets. After the harried hours of the night before, it’s a welcome change. Once I make sure Madrigal’s asleep, I head to Hunter’s room. He offered to move in, claiming he could provide more effective protection if he was available round the clock. Madrigal was more than happy to agree. I can’t blame her. Not with the three-ring circus going on outside the main gate to the estate. Between Hunter and me, we can play interference for her.
I knock on the door to his room.
“Come in.”
“Did I disturb you?” I ask, stepping in. He’s lounging on the bed, reading something on his phone.
“Not at all,” he says, sitting up. “I’m too wired to sleep. I called in an extra operative to replace Alicia. She’ll be here at eight. She doesn’t ride horses, so Madison will need to remain indoors.”
“I don’t think she’ll object. At least for a day or two.”
“I’ll find someone else to accompany her. Shouldn’t take longer than that.”
I tuck my hands into my pockets and fix my gaze on him. “Are you going to tell me the truth?”
“About?”
“Your real identity.”
Staring down at the floor, he clutches the side of the bed so hard his knuckles turn white. “I can’t. Lives other than mine are at stake. If I told you, I’d put them in danger.”
“Would it help if I told you I already know?”
His head comes up at that. “You can’t possibly.”
“You think I don’t know my own brother?”
“I’m not,” he chokes out.
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand to stop him. “You had work done on your face. Probably on your body as well. More than likely, the authorities put out the story that you died to save you. And then they relocated you somewhere. Maybe to another state. How am I doing so far?”
His lips quirk. “You always were a smart son of a bitch.”
“We weren’t together that long.”
He comes to his feet. “Six years. But I always remembered you. I never forgot.”
“Neither did I.” I grab him by the neck, pull him toward me as hot tears roll down my cheeks.
As he squeezes me back and tucks his head against my neck, I can feel the hot moisture on his face. “You can’t tell anybody, not even Madrigal.”
“I won’t.”
Coming upright again, he wipes his face. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” I cup his cheek. Last time I saw him, he was six. And now he’s a grown man with whiskers on his face. “Will I find out the truth one day?”
“Maybe when things clear up.”
“You’re not just a bodyguard, are you?”
All I get is silence.
“Fine. If you ever need anything, anything at all, let me know. I have money, millions.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Playing the stock market. I have Mitch to thank for that.”
His face takes on a dark tone.
“Does Mitch have anything to do with whatever you’re investigating?”
“I can’t talk about it,” he says.
“Damn.” Figures that I just find my brother and he’s investigating Mitch, or at least it seems like he is.
“Well, I better go to bed. For what remains of the night anyway.”
“Wait. Cristina Sanchez?”
“What about her?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not interested in her, are you?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
I squint my eyes. “Okay. Well, good-night.” I hug him again.
“Night.”
I jump in the shower before climbing into bed with Madrigal. When I do, she rolls to my side. “Where were you?”
“Talking to Ree—Hunter.”
“About?”
“Getting his take on things.”
“What things?”
“What Holcomb blurted out about making you and Madison forget, about killing patients. I asked him to investigate.” I’ll have to remember to talk to him about it in the morning.
“Charlie’s investigating as well. We’ll put both of them on the job. See what they can find out.”
“Yes, but that’s for tomorrow and the day beyond. Let’s go to sleep. A new day’s dawning. I’d like to get at least some rest.”
But the hours roll by with thoughts of my brother and Mitch. Fuck. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, something else may blindside me as far as Mitch’s concerned. I’ve put it off as long as possible. But I can’t. Not anymore. I’ll have to investigate Mitch. See what he’s been up to. Only then will I get to the truth.
Chapter 35
Madrigal
“I’m so happy to see you!” I exclaim as soon as Cristina walks through the door with Hunter trailing after her. “How was your flight?”
“Uneventful,” she says, hugging me back. “The same can’t be said for the ride here.”
“Yeah, rush-hour traffic on Route 50 can be a bear. Take a load off and freshen up. Cocktails will be served in half an hour and dinner in an hour.”
“Great. I’ll just take a quick shower.”
“You want me to take your suitcase up to your room, Ms. Sanchez?”
She scrunches up her face. “Honestly, Hunter, you can call me Cristina.”
Stone-faced, he replies, “Very well.”
“Yes, please. I’ll see you later, tesoro.” She climbs the stairs, swishing her rump all the way. She’s pissed. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know it has something to do with Hunter.
What’s going on between those two? I never did get the story about why it took them so long to get here after she walked out on Scott. They should have beaten Steele and me back to the house. Knowing Cristina, she’ll spill the beans sooner or later. She never could keep the deets about her dealings with men to herself.
A door opens and closes upstairs, but Hunter does not return. Well, well, well. I turn with a grin on my face and bump into Steele. “Oops.”
“What put that smile on your face?”
“Nothing.” I throw my arms around his neck. “You’re home.”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.” Pulling him down to me, I suckle his lip. “Mmm. You taste good.”
“Not in front of the children, dear.”
“Good evening, Trenton,” Madison says, passing us by.
“Good evening.”
Without a glance back, she heads for the kitchen, probably in need of a snack before dinner.
“She seems to be doing well,” he says.
“Yes. Amazing, given everything she’s gone through.”
“I told you she’s strong and resilient,” Steele says.
“And happy. Philippe’s coming to dinner.”
“Do I have time for a quick shower?”
“Of course.” He wraps an arm around me, and together we climb the stairs. As we pass Cristina’s room, the sounds of an argument reach us.
“Cristina’s back?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Who’s in there with her?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
“Hunter?”
“Yep. There’s something going on between those two.”
“I didn’t think she was his type—or he hers, for that matter. I thought she liked her men more sophisticated.”
“So did I, but apparently she’s developed a liking for a more primitive male.”
A harried-looking Hunter opens the door and steps out.
His eyes widen when he spots us. “Good evening.”
Trying hard to keep from laughing, Steele asks, “Anything wrong?”
“No. Nothing,” he says, closing the door. “Why do you ask?”
Something smashes against the wood. Oh, dear. I hope it’s not one of the antiques.
“No particular reason,” Steele says.
“Will you join us for dinner, Hunter?” I ask, trying to ignore the obvious tension in the air.
“Are you sure that’s for the best?” he asks.
“Yes, I do. I’d like to thank you for the help you provided during the rescue. I don’t think of you as hired help anymore, but as a friend.”
“Thank you for that.” He nods. “Yes, I’d love to join you for dinner.”
“Great. Cocktails in”—I glance at my watch—“twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.” And then he proceeds down the hall to the stairs, where he disappears from sight.
“Well, I’d say there’s definitely something going on between those two.”
“Great bit of deduction, Mr. Steele. No wonder you have such a great reputation.”
“Are you sassing me?”
“No,” I say innocently.
“Yes, you are.”
He gets this spark in his eyes, and I run toward our bedroom.
I hold up my hands, trying to keep him back. Not that it does any good when he pulls me against him. “You can’t start anything. We don’t have time. Besides, I’m all dressed, and I don’t want you to muss me up.”
“Fine,” he says, unknotting his tie and tossing it on the bed. “But after dinner, there will be plenty of mussing up.”
“Looking forward to it, Mr. Steele.”
“So how was France, Philippe?”
“Fine. We visited our family in Paris and Lorraine.”
“I want to go to Paris someday,” Madison exclaims.
Of course she does. “After you graduate from high school next year, we’ll go for the summer,” I say.
“So how are things with you, Cristina?” Steele asks.
“I was offered a permanent job with the Department of Justice.”
Shattered Trust (Shattered #2) Page 20