Not that she had any interest in seeing the handsome caricature-drawing cowboy again. But she fretted about her daughter and Jenny’s transition back into day care, today and every day.
No, things would be fine. She had to stop worrying so much.
As if she could. About Jenny or anything else in her life lately.
Resolutely, she picked up her pace.
The scent of fresh paint still hung in the air. The repaired walls were a lighter shade this time, though still a pale peach. After the fire, they’d been smoke-stained and dark, and the place had smelled awful. Most of the signs and fixtures had had to be replaced, too.
She turned the corner at the end of the hall and nearly ran into a cart full of cleaning supplies.
“Hello, Dr. Stanton.”
“Good morning, Juan,” she said to the tall, thin man beside the cart. Juan Cortes was one of Gilpin Hospital’s janitors, a pleasant man in his thirties who always wore a toothy smile beneath his neat, dark mustache. He had a faint Spanish accent. Relatively new at the hospital, he apparently loved kids. Each morning, before most people arrived, he came by KidClub with sliced fruit plus a box of doughnuts, each carefully dissected into several pieces to appease parents’ concerns about too many sweets.
“I saw the treats you left on the desk,” Kelley told him. “Thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome again,” Juan said. His grin sobered. “How is Jenny?”
Like the rest of the staff, Juan knew Jenny had been in the childcare center when the fire broke out.
Inside KidClub. That was what Kelley told everyone, to protect her daughter. The fire had at first been called accidental, but the official cause was later ruled arson. So far no one had been arrested. Kelley had no reason to think Jenny had seen what happened, but just in case…
“She’s doing better,” she told Juan, “but it’ll take time before she can put it all behind her.”
“Of course. Well, I made sure I got her favorite today, a twisty glazed doughnut. She can have the whole thing if she wants, not just a piece of it.”
“That’s sweet of you, Juan.” Kelley hesitated. She suspected that providing doughnuts and fruit every day might create a dent in the janitor’s salary. “How about if Jenny and I bring the treats tomorrow morning?”
“Well…” Juan didn’t look keen on the idea.
Kelley did not want to make him feel bad, though she had been meaning to make this offer for a while. “Another day, then,” she said quickly. “You know I always teach her to take turns. If you tell me what kind your favorite doughnut is, we’ll be sure to bring you one. Okay?”
“Maybe next week sometime,” he said without enthusiasm. But he added, “My favorite is chocolate with peanuts.”
“Good. We’ll work out when soon.” She should probably also find out what kind of treats Shawn Jameson preferred, she thought as she continued down the hall.
The way he looked, his preference in treats probably had nothing to do with sweet rolls.
She shook her head. Why was the new childcare attendant so much on her mind this morning?
She turned the corner to the main hallway and glimpsed the back of Dr. Madelyne Younger. The short, platinum-blond cap of hair over the signature purple lab jacket was a giveaway.
Kelley’s own lab coats were light in color. Conservative. Unlike Madelyne’s.
“Hey, Madelyne, wait up,” Kelley called, but not too loudly.
Though this was the administration wing, it was still part of a hospital.
Her voice had apparently been loud enough. Madelyne, an internist who specialized in infectious diseases as did Kelley, turned to face her. She didn’t have the same compunction about raising her voice, which boomed down the hall. “Hey, kiddo, how ya’ doing this morning?”
“Not bad.” Kelley, smiling, caught up with the older woman.
“Not good, either, I’d say.” Madelyne’s narrow face screwed into a frown as she studied Kelley. Lines radiated from the edges of her barely made-up eyes. She gestured for Kelley to join her at the hall’s periphery to let the crowd of hospital staff and visitors pass by. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”
Kelley moved to the wall and shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing new. It’s just hard to leave Jenny these days.”
“I figured. Are things around here improving?”
Kelley didn’t want to think about that but replied with a sigh. “Not really. All the innuendoes appear to be taking on a life of their own and sneaking into every corner of this place.”
“Remember they’re only that—innuendoes. I was there. I didn’t see you do a damned thing wrong. That influenza epidemic was a beast and a half, and those two older patients who died—well, they simply arrived too late to be helped. Got it?”
“Got it,” Kelley affirmed, unable to stop herself from grinning back at her irrepressible friend. But she’d noticed the way Madelyne had phrased her reply. She hadn’t seen Kelley do anything wrong.
That didn’t mean she would swear that Kelley hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Anyway, there’s nothing—oh, puffballs. There’s the chief innuendo manufacturer now. Just remember the source, kiddo.”
Kelley sighed. Madelyne was glaring over her shoulder, and Kelley chose not to turn to see who she was looking at.
She already knew.
“Good morning, Kelley. Madelyne.”
The stilted masculine voice that had once been the stuff of her daydreams was now one of her worst nightmares.
Slowly, Kelley turned and found herself looking up into the face of Dr. Randall Stanton, cardiologist extraordinaire. Star of Gilpin Hospital’s surgical staff.
And her blasted ex-husband.
Randall wore a lab jacket with as much finesse as most gentlemen wore tuxedos. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, but Kelley, at five foot three, had to look up at him—a fact that suited him just fine. Silver-haired, silver-tongued Randall thrived on adulation the way sports stars did. Though the hallway was broad here, he seemed to take up its entire width with his presence. And of course he wasn’t by himself.
“Good morning, Randall,” Kelley said with forced civility, adding through gritted teeth, “You, too, Cheryl.” Even more than Kelley disliked her ex, she loathed the woman by his side.
“Yeah. Hiya.” Madelyne sounded even less enthusiastic than Kelley.
Kelley’s ex seldom traveled alone, even through hospital halls. His most constant companion these days was his assistant, cardiac nurse Cheryl Marten.
Cheryl was a little taller than Kelley, but she, too, had to look up at her boss. And lover, if Kelley was any judge. Cheryl carried a clipboard—most likely Randall’s.
Other than her height, Cheryl was not at all similar to Kelley. The nurse was more voluptuous and flaunted it. Though she wore an unprepossessing colorful smock over her clean white slacks, its top buttons were undone, revealing a hint of substantial cleavage.
She was probably a year or two younger than Kelley, which made her ten years younger than Randall. She radiated Randall’s air of superiority. More than once an irritated Kelley had itched to remind the woman that she was a nurse, while Kelley was a doctor. But Kelley always swallowed the urge. There was enough animosity between them without giving in to the woman’s obvious baiting. And Kelley knew that, with the esteemed Randall on her side, Cheryl would prevail in any catfight. Even with what she’d done.
Especially since Kelley’s formerly rising star at Gilpin Hospital had lost its luster.
“How is our daughter this morning?” Randall asked, pointedly ignoring Madelyne.
As if you care. Though they shared joint custody, Kelley had primary physical custody, which suited her fine. Randall was supposed to have visitation on certain nights and weekends, but often claimed to be too busy to take sweet little Jenny.
Kelley always made excuses for him, more to soothe Jenny than to protect Randall.
She had done enough of the latter when they were married.
“Jenny’s fine,” Kelley said. “I’ll bet she’d love for you to ask her yourself. Do you plan to take her tomorrow night?”
Randall didn’t answer until he had glanced at Cheryl, whose smile looked forced to Kelley, but no matter. Apparently it had been the permission Randall needed.
More likely, he had just made sure a baby-sitter was available.
“Of course,” his voice boomed. “I can’t wait.”
I’ll bet. “Great,” Kelley forced herself to say.
“Umm—and your caseload these days? Can you handle it?”
“My caseload is growing, Randall.” An exaggeration, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “And my patients are doing fine. Thank you for asking.” You nasty, vindictive jerk.
She hadn’t even been the one who’d demanded the divorce. She’d simply not knuckled under to his insistence that she change her lifestyle to suit Randall and his image.
“See you later, Kelley,” Randall said. “Madelyne.” He nodded toward the other doctor and headed down the hall, Cheryl trailing in his wake.
“Son of a boring snitch,” Madelyne hissed in an under-tone after them, making Kelley laugh despite all the malaise turning ugly cartwheels inside her. “Ignore him, kiddo.” She paused for only a second before continuing, “But there’s someone no red-blooded American woman can ignore. If I could whistle, I’d do it right about now. Who the heck is he?”
Kelley inhaled sharply. She knew just who Madelyne was talking about but didn’t let on. Instead, she turned to look in the direction her friend was facing. “Oh,” she said as she spotted Shawn Jameson coming down the hall toward them. “He’s the new childcare attendant at KidClub.”
“Well, damn. If I’d known that, I’d have had myself a kid or two to leave with him.” As Shawn reached them, Madelyne looked at Kelley expectantly.
What could she do but introduce them? “Hi, Shawn. This is my colleague, Dr. Madelyne Younger. Madelyne, this man is a genius with crayons. He staved off an entire room of fussy children this morning by drawing them into submission. Including Jenny.”
“No kidding?” Madelyne said. Kelley was almost embarrassed by the frank way her colleague looked Shawn up and down.
He appeared both amused and uncomfortable. Kelley considered rescuing him, but he did it himself.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Younger, but—”
“Madelyne,” she corrected swiftly.
“Madelyne,” he said. “But I’m off to a meeting. I’ll see you around, I’m sure. And I’ll be at KidClub later when you pick Jenny up, Dr. Stanton.” The look he turned on her with his cool blue eyes seemed to impart a message that Kelley could not decipher.
She wasn’t certain she wanted to.
In fact, she suspected, with the way things were going around here, that even from the new guy on the block, a great-looking man who couldn’t possibly blame her for anything, the message would not be one she wanted to hear.
“SO YOU’VE STARTED working at KidClub?”
Shawn, sitting casually in the small but luxuriously appointed hospital administrator’s office, nodded at Louis Paxler.
The hospital administrator, fiftyish, had a sweep of hair several shades darker than his thin brown brows. It looked real but not natural, probably dyed rather than a hairpiece. He wore a dark suit, and the red tie fastened over his white shirt appeared to lift up the extra flesh beneath his chin.
“I got there early this morning.” Shawn leaned back in the tall leather chair facing Paxler’s mahogany desk. “Marge showed me around.” Marge Ralston, head of KidClub, had no sooner arrived than there was a minor emergency in the kitchen. She had hurriedly left Shawn in charge of greeting the children. The way his credentials had been presented to her, she’d obviously had no concern about dumping that small responsibility on him.
If only she’d known…
Louis Paxler knew the truth—a version of it. He watched Shawn as if trying to analyze him from beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. “Does she suspect who you are?”
“If so, she didn’t let on.”
“Fine. So…who did you meet there?”
Shawn hid his amusement at the administrator’s thinly veiled question. He knew who Paxler meant. He decided to play him for a minute. “Well, there were about a dozen kids. Can’t tell you their names offhand, but I’ll learn them. And—”
“Any of their parents?”
“A couple.” Enough of this game, Shawn told himself. Stringing the administrator along wouldn’t get him answers he needed. “One was Dr. Kelley Stanton.” The lovely, sexy Dr. Kelley Stanton….
“Ah, yes, Dr. Stanton.” Paxler’s tone was decidedly chilly. “I’m not sure how much you know, Mr. Jameson, but—”
“Call me Shawn. And I was told you relayed your suspicions about Dr. Stanton and her involvement with the blaze to the fire department’s Fire Investigation Bureau. Right?”
Paxler nodded, grim satisfaction narrowing his mouth. “Of course, they first thought it was an accident, but then decided it could be arson. They didn’t find enough evidence to accuse anyone, though.”
“And you thought it might be Dr. Stanton? Why don’t you fill me in?”
“Of course, Mr.—er, Shawn. Except…the hospital will still collect on its insurance claim, won’t it?”
“As long as you cooperate,” Shawn assured him. “But if an arsonist is found, the insurance company may be able to recoup the damages.” Which was probably correct, although Shawn wouldn’t have anything to do with that decision. But Paxler had been told only that Shawn was an investigator for Investigations, Confidential and Undercover, a private agency whose nickname seemed appropriate for an inquiry at a hospital. ICU was supposedly looking into the fire for the insurance carrier. The administrator had been told nothing about Colorado Confidential—or that the flu epidemic was the subject of deeper inquiry.
At first Paxler had resisted, but then had agreed to cooperate, particularly after getting an official call telling him that the more helpful he was, the faster the hospital’s claim—already delayed—was likely to be processed.
Colleen had contacts in a lot of useful places.
“Okay, then,” Paxler said. “About five months ago, the hospital was besieged by cases of flu transported from Silver Rapids, a town just north of here. It’s too small to have a major hospital of its own, so the people who were most ill were brought here for treatment. Two died. Older folk who had a harder time fighting off the illness. But…”
“But what?” Shawn prompted.
Paxler stood, pushing aside his desk chair, which appeared too modern to fit with the rest of the ornate furnishings. Shawn glanced around and wondered where the three doors at the room’s perimeter led to.
The administrator walked to a window, peered out as if looking for an answer on the Denver street below, then turned back. His gut made his belt protrude, but he otherwise did not appear heavy. “Look, Shawn. Though I expressed my concerns to the authorities, I didn’t intend to. Not exactly. I mean, if what I fear is correct, the hospital could have liability here. But if I am right… Well, it just can’t happen again. In my position, I simply can’t allow it.”
“And your fear is…?”
“That Dr. Kelley Stanton was negligent in her treatment of those patients. Now, look.” He raised his hands as if trying to halt Shawn, though Shawn hadn’t moved. “I can’t prove anything, but the couple who died, their course of treatment—well, I think the most telling thing is the fire in the records office.”
“It’s why you can’t prove Dr. Stanton was negligent?” Shawn knew the background. But after having met Kelley Stanton, even briefly, he couldn’t believe she was less than an excellent
doctor. Yet he had nothing to base that feeling on other than a first impression that had left him wanting to get to know her better. Much better. And not entirely because she was a suspect.
Which meant he had to pay attention to what Paxler said, to steer his irrelevant, unscientific impressions back on track.
Paxler nodded. “I’d begun to make inquiries. Randall… Are you aware Dr. Kelley Stanton was previously married to one of our most esteemed physicians, Dr. Randall Stanton?”
Shawn nodded. He hadn’t met the man yet but he already despised him—the esteemed Dr. Stanton.
What man in his right mind would have let Kelley Stanton go?
Stay objective, Jameson.
“Of course there’s bound to be some animosity,” Paxler continued, “and I certainly don’t know the reasons for their marital difficulties, but since their divorce Randall has hinted that it was at least partly due to his concern over Kelley’s…er, her lack of abilities. At first I chalked that up to hard feelings. I had no reason—then—to doubt Kelley’s skill. But after the deaths I couldn’t ignore Randall’s intimations. I had just begun to conduct an inquiry when the fire occurred.”
“And Dr. Kelley Stanton was aware of the investigation?”
“Of course. I questioned her and began to put together a panel of her peers to look into the situation. I personally don’t have the medical expertise to determine whether the treatment she prescribed was substandard.”
“Would the medical records have supplied the answers?” They might also have contained other answers Shawn needed.
“Possibly.” Paxler resumed his seat and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. “Now we’ll have to rely on Kelley’s recollection of what she prescribed, plus the memories of the attending nurses. Those can get colored by time—and by personal relationships, since Kelley has friends here who might protect her.”
“I see.” And Shawn could see that someone who seemed as warm a mother and as friendly a person as Kelley Stanton could have a cheering section. But looks could be deceiving. And if Paxler was right, the warmth he thought he’d seen in Kelley could instead be a tendency toward playing with fire. Real fire.
Special Agent Nanny Page 3