Special Agent Nanny

by Linda O. Johnston

  What else did Shawn know that he had kept from her?

  Someone had to have put the papers in her desk. Someone who wanted to discredit her. Probably the same someone who’d fabricated the chart Louis had found.

  Because that someone didn’t want her to blow the whistle on her theory?

  But it wasn’t just her theory. She knew that now. Shawn and his group also suspected more.

  And Louis had mentioned altered blood tests. Could they have been altered to show the negative results for antibodies? If that were true, it would support her hypothesis.

  Yet she still had no proof. And Shawn wouldn’t help her. He didn’t believe her. He thought she was involved.

  He thought she’d set the fire.

  A horrible thought struck her. Had he gotten close to her, made love to her, so that she would let down her guard? So that he could interrogate her, get her to spill all about her purported conspiracy?

  He was a man, wasn’t he? A damned, controlling man. She should have expected something this contemptible. She should have known.

  Pain slashed through her as sharply as if she’d been ignited by a fireball. She’d allowed herself to care for yet another man who hurt her. But she would get through it. Somehow.

  She forced herself to rise. What should she do now? She paced, considering her options. None was good.

  It would be easy to fall apart. To simply run…

  No. She had to get control of this situation. She had to fix things for herself.

  She had to.

  But not here. She needed to get away. Go home, to think. To strategize.

  At least, she thought wryly as she hurried toward KidClub for Jenny, things today couldn’t get any worse.

  Only she was wrong. For when she arrived at KidClub, Jenny was in the middle of a screaming fit.

  Marge, nearly at wit’s end, was trying to calm her. She ran over to Kelley, a large paper in her hand.

  “She’s so upset, Kelley,” Marge said. “Look what she’s drawn today, over and over.”

  The page had one large brown line down the middle. It seemed to have whiskers.

  But the rest of the paper was filled with jagged red and orange streaks.

  Fire.

  SHAWN HAD HEADED for the ICU office after finding the paperwork in Kelley’s desk. He put the new materials into a sealed envelope and directed office manager Becky Morris to have it messengered to Colleen, who’d returned to the Royal Flush. Better yet, Becky could take it herself.

  Shawn needed to return to Gilpin Hospital. He still couldn’t completely blow his cover there, though he figured his assignment was nearly over.

  Back in his SUV, he drove with his hands clenched as tightly on the steering wheel as if they had Kelley by the throat.

  Kelley was the arsonist. Not because she wanted to hide evidence of her negligent treatment of patients, but because she was involved with covering up the origin of the Silver Rapids flu. And as suspected, the outbreak was probably tied in with Colorado Confidential’s major case—the kidnapping of the Langworthy baby. But how were the flu and the possible biological experiments at the Gettys sheep ranch related to the kidnapping?

  Damn!

  Why would Kelley set the fire but keep incriminating papers? So that no one would look for evidence? Because she could somehow use the material against some coconspirator? Or blackmailer? Could she have been a victim of some kind of threat or coercion after all? Someone had tried to run her down with that ambulance.

  Or had that been only for show, staged by one of her fellow schemers to throw him off the track?

  He still had too many questions. But whatever the answers, he should have known better than to get involved with a suspect. Getting close to anyone was out of line for an undercover operative. But for him, of all people, to get close to a suspected arsonist…

  An actual arsonist. He was a total fool for letting himself wonder whether a future with her and her daughter was possible, falling in love with—

  Where had that come from? Love? Hell, he didn’t even know what it meant. And he was damned if he would allow himself to feel it for the duplicitous Dr. Kelley Stanton.

  In the hospital parking lot, he simply sat for a moment. He had to question her further, but since he’d tipped his hand, it would take finesse.

  How would he handle her now?

  He still didn’t know by the time he reached KidClub.

  So maybe it was just as well that he had time to think about it. Kelley had picked up Jenny and left.

  THEY WERE AT A PLAYGROUND. Jenny sat beside Kelley on a park bench in the shade of a tall, fragrant pine tree. She leaned against Kelley, refusing to go play.

  At least she had calmed down.

  “Would you like me to push you on a swing, sweetheart?” Kelley asked, her heart shredded from her small daughter’s obvious pain.

  “No, Mommy.” There was such sadness in Jenny’s sweet and solemn face that Kelley could hardly stand it.

  Jenny had shrieked and carried on from the moment Kelley had strapped her into her car seat, and Kelley had decided to drive to one of Jenny’s favorite places. At least that had calmed her.

  This park was near an elementary school—the one her daughter would have attended in a few years, if they had still been around.

  But they wouldn’t be.

  Kelley liked it here, in this pleasant Denver suburb, but now they would have to move.

  The best case would be to someplace far from here that Kelley chose. The worst case…? She could wind up in prison if Shawn’s accusations of arson and worse gained momentum. And Randall would get sole custody of Jenny.

  She couldn’t think about that now.

  “Honey, I want to know why you were so upset at KidClub today. Please tell me.”

  Jenny’s head shook in a vehement “no” that mussed her pale blond hair.

  “You’ll feel better if you do.”

  Again, a shake of the head. This time, two tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Responsive wetness pooled in Kelley’s eyes.

  “Do you want to talk about the fire?” she asked. “Or the pictures you drew?” She’d left them at KidClub, with their jagged red lines and odd, shaggy brown ones.

  “No!” Jenny leaped off the bench and stood facing Kelley, her hands on her small hips. If Kelley hadn’t been so concerned for her, she’d have smiled at the very adult pose.

  She stooped and hugged her daughter tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything will be all right.” Her vow was as much to herself as to Jenny.

  She only hoped it was true.

  LATER, KELLEY REALIZED her bed had never felt so lonely.

  For the umpteenth time that night, she rose, flicked on the light and slipped a light cotton robe around her. She looked through a crack in her closed draperies at the street in front of her house.

  No big blue SUV in her driveway. Or parked nearby. And why should there be? Shawn had played her protector—or at least pretended to—as long as he’d thought she needed protection.

  Now, he was certain she was one of the bad guys.

  And she was certain he was…what? She’d given up conjuring epithets to hurl at him if he dared to appear.

  Which he wouldn’t.

  Right now, she had decisions to make. Alone.

  Without the interference of her attraction—former attraction—to Shawn.

  With the best interests of her daughter at the forefront.

  What had hurt her? Why was she drawing such alarming pictures? Had she, after all, seen who set the fire? How could they know, if she refused to talk about it?

  How could Kelley protect her?

  What would happen to her if Kelley wound up in prison?

  Kelley closed her dampening eyes. No use crying or worrying now. Time enough for that tomorrow.

  But one thing was for certain. She’d spent too much time with her head down, hoping she’d simply be able to practice her profession.

  She had t
o go out with a bang.

  A loud one.

  SHAWN DIDN’T EVEN TRY to sleep that night. Instead, he paced his damned puny apartment. He’d figured it was tiny before, but he could barely fit six good strides into it, the way he was going. He’d stripped down to his boxers hours ago, after losing count of the push-ups he’d done to work off excess energy.

  It hadn’t been enough.

  He pitied the guy with the flat below him. He’d probably get complaints in the morning. But that didn’t stop him.

  Damn. He’d had plenty of time to figure out how to deal with Kelley. Plenty of time to realize he’d handled it all wrong with her. Some smooth undercover operative he was.

  He shouldn’t have confronted her with the damning evidence. Instead, he should have been subtle. Told her that the ICU team had determined there were papers missing from the files. Did she know anything about them?

  And if she said no, when she said no, he could push harder till she admitted that she’d sanitized them. That she’d—

  Lied. About everything.

  Hell, he’d even assumed that, with all their lovemaking, she had feelings for him. But that had been part of her deception.

  “Irrelevant, Jameson,” he muttered. “Keep your mind on the job.” And not on the way his groin throbbed painfully every time he thought about Dr. Kelley Stanton. Or the way his heart ached even more.

  Damn.

  “Okay, pea-brain,” he continued. “Concentrate.”

  Before he’d left KidClub, he’d gotten an earful from Marge about how Jenny had acted up that day. She’d shown him more pictures that the little girl had drawn.

  Jenny’s pages contained a few straight brown lines that turned fuzzy at the bottom, and jagged ones, like those she had smashed onto drawings made by the other kids and him.

  Red lines that must mean fire.

  He of all people knew how terrifying fire could be to a child. And he hadn’t even experienced it himself.

  He’d only had his whole life affected by it.

  Had Jenny seen the arsonist?

  And had it been Kelley, as the papers he’d found indicated?

  Damn it, he hadn’t wanted it to be her. Still didn’t. But arsonists always pushed his hot button. “Hah, hah,” he muttered. “Funny, Jameson.”

  Kelley had told him that the materials Louis Paxler accidentally found in another patient’s file were false. Planted to frame her.

  Maybe. Maybe not. But if it was true, then maybe she hadn’t hidden pieces of the files in her locked desk drawer.

  Maybe someone else had.

  That same someone who had allegedly stuck the pages into the other patient’s file.

  Might Kelley in fact be innocent of everything? Or was he again thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy?

  “Damn it, Kelley,” he groaned aloud, and, sitting on the sofa, plopped his head into his hands.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Kelley prepared, as she walked with Jenny to KidClub, what to say to Shawn if he was there. She would be as cool as he once was. Cordial but remote.

  She had dressed in one of her favorite professional outfits, a deep green pantsuit that went well with the auburn highlights in her hair. Not that it mattered, but she wanted to look her best that day.

  Jenny wore a pale blue T-shirt with lacy trim over blue jeans. She looked adorable. Despite her behavior at KidClub yesterday and the frightful drawings she had made, she pranced beside her mother as if eager to face the day. Kelley was grateful for that, at least. She would have left Jenny with a sitter if she’d been able, but the kind neighbor who usually helped in a pinch was out of town.

  Kelley wasn’t eager for this day to begin. But what she’d planned had to be done.

  Maybe she should wait and see what happened before confronting anyone. Maybe Louis’s threat of suspension wouldn’t be imposed, or she could scare him into backing off. Maybe—

  “Get real,” she told herself. And prepared herself for battle.

  At least one thing went right, to start with. Marge Ralston greeted the children that day. Kelley didn’t see Shawn. That should have made her feel better, for she’d been concerned that facing him first might make her lose her nerve for the rest. “Have a happy day, sweetheart,” she told Jenny and gave her a kiss.

  Jenny clutched her hand as if preparing for one of her farewell scenes, but, seeing her friend Claire, hurried inside.

  Kelley breathed a sigh of relief. Two things had gone well.

  She waved good morning to Juan Cortes as she passed him near the entrance to the medical office building, not stopping to talk.

  She went to her office. Unlocked her desk, to see if anything else had been planted to implicate her in something even more nefarious, like spying against the U.S.

  The bottom drawer was empty. Apparently Shawn had taken back the Silver Rapids flu files, along with the “missing” pages he had found.

  She took off her suit jacket and replaced it with her white lab coat. She had rounds to do.

  Madelyne Younger was in the first room Kelley visited, seeing the patient in the other bed. They walked into the hall together. “You look awful, kiddo,” the older doctor said, her hands in the pockets of her purple lab jacket. “What’s wrong?”

  “You mean the hospital grapevine hasn’t passed along the latest?”

  Madelyne’s grin scrunched together the lines radiating from her kind eyes. “Are you accusing me of being a gossip? I resemble that remark,” she quipped. And then she grew serious. “I haven’t heard details, but there is a rumor circulating that you’re on the big guy’s least favored persons list again. Is he gunning for you?”

  “Well, he’s not exactly my best friend. That Etta Borand visited yesterday brandishing court papers.” Kelley reminded Madelyne about that nasty situation, shaking her head. “My days here are numbered, Madelyne. I’m not harboring any illusions about it. But I know a few things about some other people around here, and I won’t just go quietly.”

  A look of consternation passed over Madelyne’s face. Or maybe Kelley just imagined it. “Go get ’em, kiddo,” Madelyne said with a grin.

  “I will,” Kelley replied, pumping up her determination. It was the only thing she had left.

  AFTER KELLEY HAD visited most of her hospital patients, she ran into Randall and Cheryl, as she’d hoped to.

  “May I talk to you both?” She tried to insert the right touch of defeat and plea into her tone. Randall in particular would respond. The more groveling she did, the better.

  Little did he know.

  They found an empty patient room. “What’s up, Kelley?” Randall demanded. “Make it quick. I have surgery scheduled later this morning.”

  She leaned against the nearest of the two patient beds, attempting to project dejection. Which wasn’t hard. She wasn’t exactly full of optimism. Just determination.

  Cheryl, in a shocking pink smock a size or two too tight, did not try hard at all to hide her condescending, smug smile. She stood near Randall beside the closed door, as if asserting her territory.

  Kelley ignored her as she addressed her ex-husband. “Have you talked to Louis since yesterday about…about my status?”

  Randall, impatient, had crossed his arms over the stethoscope that hung around his neck. He stared down his prominent nose at her. “You mean that he’s considering suspending you? I didn’t hear it directly from him, but, yes, I’ve heard.”

  “Have you heard why?”

  “Something about that Borand claim, isn’t it?”

  Kelley nodded gloomily. “Right. It’s going to court.” And then she straightened and looked up directly into Randall’s face. “Of course if it does, I’ll have to tell the truth—that there are entirely too many postoperative cardiac cases around here that develop infections.”

  “What?” That got his attention. Randall’s eyes widened, and he looked at her as if a dummy used for practicing cardio-pulmonary resuscitation had suddenly begun to yodel.

  “I
wonder if it’s something to do with the surgery itself,” she said calmly as Randall’s hands clenched in fists at his sides. Could his silvery hair have gone more gray that quickly?

  “Since I believe it’s a possibility, I’ll have to say so when I’m under oath.”

  “This is preposterous,” Randall shouted. “If this is a ploy to get me to vouch for you and prevent your suspension, forget it. I’ll never—”

  “It’s not a ploy,” Kelley said calmly. “Of course, I’m more inclined to think it’s the postoperative care from the cardiac nursing staff. Right, Cheryl?”

  “Don’t you dare accuse me,” the nurse sputtered. But her face, beneath its model-perfect makeup, had lost color.

  “I’m not accusing anyone,” Kelley said in mock dismay. “I wouldn’t want to do that to all my kind supporters here at Gilpin Hospital. I mean, I’m sure neither of you started the rumors that I did something wrong with those Silver Rapids patients…did you?” She touched her chin and looked up in feigned pensiveness. “I wonder if those rumors might have been started to hide the negligence of some others on Gilpin’s staff. Or maybe the downright intentional ignoring of our strict anti-infection policies. Would you know anything about that?” She looked pointedly at Cheryl, whose pale blue eyes looked shocked—and nervous.

  “Cut it out, Kelley,” Randall roared. “No one in the cardiology department did anything to cause any infections, including Mr. Borand’s problems.”

  “And do you think I did something wrong there?” she demanded. “Since you performed the surgery, you must have reviewed his files. Did you see anything in them that indicated I committed malpractice?”

  “Not that I recall,” he said, obviously reluctant.

  “I, on the other hand, remember having questions about some procedures, including postop,” Kelley went on. “Genuine concerns, and I relayed them to Cheryl. Right?” She looked at the nurse. “So that it wouldn’t happen again. My notes should have been in the file.” Which made Kelley wonder why Louis hadn’t brought them up. Why she, and not Randall or Cheryl, was being blamed.

  Because Randall was the hospital’s star surgeon, wielding all the power of the big bucks his renowned skill brought in?

  The notes should come out in the lawsuit, at least, if they hadn’t been destroyed in the fire. She thought Ben Borand’s case was recent enough that his records hadn’t been filed yet, but she wasn’t certain. And if they had been destroyed…could Cheryl have been the arsonist?