“She’s all right today, isn’t she?” Kelley demanded quickly. Shawn felt an uncharacteristic pang of guilt gouge through him as the obvious pain in Kelley’s expression deepened. He hadn’t intended to add to her worries.
He just wanted to find out what they were.
“Better than ever,” he assured her, hoping he was right. The kid was definitely cute. Loved to draw “an’mals.” And he’d found he enjoyed drawing her every kind of “an’mal” she could think of. Even some she’d never heard of. But he hadn’t the slightest idea of what was normal for a three-year-old.
“I—er, for my internship, I’ve been told to get to know the parents of the kids in my charge. Discuss their children’s strengths and weaknesses, what I can do to help their learning process, that kind of thing.” Whew! He’d been reaching for that. But wasn’t it the sort of claptrap that real childcare workers said?
“Of course.” Kelley glanced down at her clipboard, flipped through the pages. “I’m not really sure of my schedule, but maybe I can drop by KidClub between two and two-thirty. I’ll have a better idea then if I can fit in a chat.”
“Fine.”
She gave him a small smile that her eyes failed to mirror, then turned and headed away, leaving him totally unsatisfied with how their meeting had gone. He’d have to do better.
Well, he had some free time now, since he’d arranged for enough to have coffee with her. He sure as hell couldn’t go snooping in the burned-out records room at this hour. The next best thing to talking with his chief suspect would be to watch her. Closely.
A surge of something he did not want to recognize shot through him. Sexual heat. A fire almost as inappropriate as arson.
Sure, he would watch the extraordinary Dr. Stanton. Learn all he could about her.
Use it against her, if appropriate.
Against her… That had a nice ring to it. He laughed aloud at his own folly, then winked when he met the eye of a sweet-looking nurse who stood near him. She smiled, but he did not follow up on the flirtation.
He had work to do.
SHAWN PICKED OUT SOME snacks to carry as he wandered the halls. If Kelley spotted him, he’d say he’d been sent back to the cafeteria for the food and took the long way back to KidClub.
Of course, it took so long to pay for the stuff that he wasn’t sure he could find her. Fortunately, he spotted her talking to a janitor in a crowded hall near the elevator on the main floor. Her back was to him. Drawing closer, he used the opportunity to study her.
The janitor, whose name badge said he was Juan Cortes, was studying her, too. His smile was wide, his look adoring. If Shawn was any judge of such things—and he was—the guy had a crush on her.
Shawn suddenly had an urge to slug the man.
“Friday,” Kelley was saying. “That will be our new day to bring morning treats to KidClub, okay, Juan? Jenny will be thrilled. I’ll let her help peel the fruit. Better yet, she can be the one to dip the slices in lemon juice to keep them fresh.”
“You really don’t need to bother, Dr. Stanton.”
“It’s no bother,” Kelley said.
The janitor pushed his cart away just as an elevator bell dinged, and Kelley turned—toward Shawn.
He forced a grin and lifted the bag. “Emergency afternoon rations for KidClub.”
He did not get on an elevator immediately but waited until she entered a car. He watched the display above its door after it closed. The car stopped on several floors. One would lead to the hall to the administrative wing. Others would take her to patients’ rooms.
Stupid idea, Jameson, he told himself. Surreptitious surveillance on a suspect didn’t work well in hospital corridors. Interrogation was more promising.
Maybe.
He would have to convince Kelley this afternoon that she did have time to meet with him.
In the meantime, he’d continue his investigation in other ways.
ON HER WAY TO Louis Paxler’s office, Kelley felt as if each footstep was one pace closer to doom.
She hadn’t forgotten that the hospital administrator had commanded her to call for an appointment, but she’d planned to put it off as long as possible.
But he had left a message at her office that she was to see him immediately. Without consulting her, he had even insisted that the receptionist she shared with three other doctors reschedule a couple of patients.
She was not looking forward to this. She looked down at the pager on her pocket. Beep, damn you. But it remained silent.
When she reached Paxler’s office, she was ushered in immediately by his receptionist, a no-nonsense older woman named Hilda. Paxler was not alone.
“Ah, Dr. Stanton,” he said in a booming, cheerful voice. His suit jacket was buttoned.
Kelley took a deep breath. This meeting must be important.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestured expansively toward one of the two chairs facing his vast oak desk.
The other was occupied by a gray-haired woman with a square jaw, dangling gold earrings, and a scowl aimed at Kelley. Kelley couldn’t place her, but the woman looked familiar.
“Do you remember Mrs. Borand?” Paxler asked.
Borand. Oh, yes—the wife of a former patient. Kelley had treated Ben Borand for an infection after his extensive cardiac bypass surgery. The poor man had nearly died, but fortunately the treatment she prescribed had ultimately been effective. He had been effusive in his thanks when finally released to go home.
“Of course I remember Mrs. Borand,” Kelley said with a smile. “How are you? And how is Ben doing?”
“He’s well now, thank you.” The woman’s voice was curt, and she quickly turned from Kelley to face Louis.
The administrator’s mouth still smiled, but his thin brows, beneath wire-rimmed glasses, were knit fretfully. He ran fingers through the edge of his dark brown hair and let the palm of his hand cup his loose jowls for an instant. The gesture showed a nervousness uncharacteristic of the man.
And that made Kelley nervous.
“Dr. Stanton, Mrs. Borand is here as a courtesy,” Paxler said. “She and her husband are planning to sue Gilpin Hospital for negligence in his treatment here.”
Kelley felt the blood drain from her face. She knew now why she had been summoned.
Once again, she was about to be blamed for incompetence.
It’s not true, she wanted to cry out. But how could she know for certain until she heard the claim and reviewed the files?
She recalled Cheryl Marten’s nasty words from that morning regarding files. If something happens to them, I’ve got a friend in the fire department. I’ll alert him that our records department is in jeopardy again.
“If Ben had received adequate treatment—” Etta Borand interrupted Kelley’s thoughts with a voice that grated at her nerves like a shrill car alarm “—that terrible infection would have been dealt with quickly, and he’d have been out of here quicker and suffered a lot less pain.”
Kelley hoped her expression reflected peace, sympathy—and a detachment she did not feel.
“Do you have anything to say, Dr. Stanton?” Louis Paxler demanded. He wasn’t smiling now. In fact, his thick lower lip trembled as if he were outraged.
With dignity, Kelley stood and faced them both. “I am sorry Mr. Borand endured discomfort. Despite our efforts, infection does set in from time to time. Fortunately, he responded to the treatment. I do not know any reason to claim fault in how his case was handled.”
With a nod in the general direction of both of them, Kelley left the room.
Only when she had found her way into the rest room and ascertained that she was alone did she lock herself in a stall and collapse against the wall. Shaking so hard she could barely stand, she began to cry.
Chapter Five
Shawn had been at Gilpin Hospital long enough to suspect the origin of at least some of the allegations against the beautiful Dr. Kelley Stanton. Maybe all of them, true or not.
He strode quick
ly through the bustling, pastel-painted halls toward the high-rise medical office building connected to the hospital, boot heels clomping on the polished linoleum floor.
His mind wrapped around his questions for Dr. Randall Stanton. Sure, Kelley’s ex-husband probably had an ax to grind. Maybe a tool chest full of axes that, given an opportunity, he’d gladly wield against his former wife. Figuratively, of course.
But while Shawn considered that clichés often had a basis in reality, another came to mind. One that was Shawn’s very own motto: Where there was smoke, there was fire.
Sure, Randall might have been looking for reasons to discredit the ex-wife against whom resentments may have simmered for years. But that didn’t mean the reasons did not exist.
While Shawn was at it, he would learn if Randall had any idea what was bothering his ex today. He was determined to learn what had sucked the blood from Kelley’s too-pale complexion and thrust a haunted look into those gorgeous brown eyes.
He almost growled in frustration when the receptionist at Randall’s medical office informed him that the doctor was in surgery for the rest of the morning.
He felt a crocodile smile emerge, though, when, back in the hall, he nearly ran into nurse Cheryl Marten. Shawn had been at KidClub last night when Cheryl had come in to pick up Jenny. She’d made it clear she was the esteemed Dr. Randall Stanton’s agent, with authority to sign his daughter out. Before Shawn had given up the kid to her, though, Randall had joined them.
That had all occurred before Kelley had caught Shawn in the destroyed file room.
“Ms. Marten,” he said now, “glad you’re here. I was hoping to speak to Dr. Stanton about Jenny, but he isn’t available. I know you’re close to both of them.”
She glanced up from beneath lashes too long and thick to be real. He didn’t notice her move, yet it seemed suddenly as if her bustline was displayed more prominently at the open neck of her colorful nurse’s smock. “Of course Randall is very dear to me,” she said. Then, obviously as an afterthought, she added, “His daughter, too.”
Shawn felt only contempt that this woman could profess closeness to one man while flirting with another. But he needed to talk to her. She was undoubtedly the second-best source of information about Kelley, after Randall.
According to the information Shawn had received from Colleen, there was an ongoing dispute regarding the night of the Gilpin Hospital fire. Cheryl Marten had signed Jenny out from KidClub. No one questioned that. But there was plenty of uncertainty about what happened next. Had Cheryl left the three-year-old there alone? Or had Kelley dropped the ball and neglected to pick up her daughter…until after she had set the fire?
Shawn stopped himself from shaking his head. No matter what he might believe about Dr. Stanton, Kelley endangering her child was the least credible possibility.
“Is something wrong with Jenny?” Cheryl asked, bringing Shawn’s thoughts back to her.
“No, but I’d like you to answer some questions. You know I’m here on a college internship? I’m studying child psychology and want to learn as much about each child as possible. Do you have time to join me for a cup of coffee?” He looked into her pale blue eyes and grinned, though flirting with this woman scraped at every nerve in his body.
“Well…” She glanced at the oversize watch on her wrist, then back at Shawn. “Sure.” Her feline smile revealed small but perfect teeth.
He followed her sashay through the office tower and into the crowded hospital halls. In a few minutes, they were seated at a table in the cafeteria—right where Shawn had hoped to interrogate Kelley that morning. He sighed as he took a sip of the coffee into which he had poured only enough cream to keep it from being starkly brown.
Cheryl had chosen a big, foamy cappuccino. After taking a drink, she smiled at him. “What would you like to know?”
She didn’t refer to Jenny. Was she hoping he would ask something about her? Her ample measurements? Her phone number?
He had been a private detective for a few years before ICU had formed its covert Colorado Confidential arm. Long before that, as a child whose sole defense, besides drawing caricatures, was to hide emotions, he’d learned not to react to anything—getting kicked out of his latest foster home, whatever. Not revealing his real thoughts was a piece of cake.
He aimed one of his most disarming smiles at her. “I’m new here, Ms. Marten, so though I’ve seen you pick Jenny up, I don’t know if you ever drop her off at KidClub in the morning.”
“Call me Cheryl,” she said, her grin even more come-hither.
Shawn responded by drawing a little closer across the table. But not too close.
“Sometimes after Jenny has spent the night with her father,” she continued, “he asks me to drop her off.”
“Then you know she isn’t always…well, happy to be left.” He didn’t mention that Jenny had improved considerably in the couple of days since he had started showing her how to draw “an’mals.” A small sense of pride shot through him, but he squelched it. No sense becoming too confident just because the child had been distracted for a day or two. Who knew how she’d be in the future?
Besides, this was just a segue into a more important discussion.
“Yes,” Cheryl said, “I know she’s sometimes a little br—er, she’s a little reluctant.”
At the hard look on Cheryl’s face, Shawn filled in the word she’d censored. Brat. He swallowed his impulse to tell the woman off. Jenny might have difficult moments, but the cute kid was hardly a brat. And she had been through an ordeal.
Had maybe even seen her mother set a fire….
Of course, having met Kelley, he found that hard to believe.
Hard, but not impossible.
“I gathered that Jenny has had a difficult time for such a young child,” he said. “Her parents are divorced…” He allowed his voice to trail off, waiting for Cheryl to pick up the line and run with it.
Her fingers were tipped with long red nails that contrasted with her white coffee mug. She clenched the cup so hard that her hands paled nearly to match it. “Yes,” she said coolly. “They are. Randall has been so patient with that bitch—I’m sorry.” She caught Shawn’s gaze, then looked down as if she rued what she’d said. Her tone as she continued, though, suggested otherwise. “The thing is, she’s still in his life, whether he likes it or not. She’s Jenny’s mom, even if she’s a horrible one, and—”
Here was his opening! “I heard something about her abandoning Jenny at KidClub the night of the fire…?” He shook his head as if totally disgusted at the idea. Which he was. But he suspected that the disgust should be aimed at the woman sitting before him.
She ran her fingers through her short blond hair. “That’s right. And she had the nerve to say I was the one who left Jenny.” Rage turned her pale blue eyes into hard, sparkling nuggets.
“Really?”
“She still hasn’t admitted that she and I spoke earlier that evening. I told her I would sign Jenny out but that she had to pick her up, since Randall and I had plans.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Shawn agreed noncommittally. “I heard that. And there are also rumors that she set the fire in the records room.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Cheryl spat.
But that was another innuendo, not an eyewitness account. It wasn’t something Shawn could accept as a statement of fact. “To hide something?” he asked.
“She killed some patients, did you hear that?” Cheryl had started to breathe audibly. Her spite was getting the better of her. But she apparently realized she might be going too far. “Er—of course, the flu patients who died here just might not have reached the hospital on time. They were pretty sick. And it’s not really clear why some got worse. But there are other patients, even now…” She tapered off.
“Really?” he prompted. “Are there patients now that Dr. Stanton might be…well, not treating as she should?”
“I shouldn’t tell you, but just today a family threw her off a case.
Called in another doctor to treat a man for a postop infection since they didn’t trust Dr. Stanton’s judgment.”
Ah! That might explain why Kelley seemed so upset. On the other hand, doctors probably got taken off cases a lot. Her reaction could still have other causes.
Could be that wasn’t all she was dealing with that day.
“Anyway, enough about her. Tell me about you,” Cheryl said in a near purr. She leaned over the table almost enough to rest her cleavage upon it.
I’m an undercover government agent, he thought, and I’ll throw that pretty little butt you like to flaunt in prison for child endangerment, if I find you left Jenny alone when the fire was set. And if you set it—well, your butt’ll be toast.
But he said with a glance at his watch and an apologetic grin, “Sorry, but I have to get back to KidClub. We’ll have to leave that to another day.” Like, when I figure out the right questions to get you to spill your guts.
“Any time,” said nurse Cheryl Marten with an I-want-to-kiss-you smile in return.
KELLEY SAT ALONE in her compact office. Her metal desk was cluttered with charts to be updated and files to be reviewed. Her next patient wasn’t due for another half hour.
If that patient didn’t fire her, too. Or the other half dozen patients she was to see that day.
I am a good doctor, she reassured herself as she reached for the phone to listen to messages. They were all from other doctors, nurses and pharmaceutical companies.
None were from other patients leveling claims of incompetence against her.
And none was the return phone call she had been awaiting for weeks now, in response to her own multiple messages.
If she was really a good doctor, would she be in this kind of a mess? Why did everything seem to be going wrong?
She stood and walked to the window, where she stared out without registering the view of the street.
She had been removed from one case today. Another patient was suing her for incompetence.
“Damn.” She returned to her squeaking chair and glanced around the room. It was cramped and in need of renovation, like her examination room. The offices of a doctor with no seniority, though she had been on staff for several years. She’d planned to leave when she and Randall had split, but she hadn’t had time to look for something else.
Special Agent Nanny Page 6