A Doctor's Secret (Lifeline Air Rescue Book 2)

by Scott, Laura

  She would miss flying, miss the responsibility of being a flight physician, but leaving would be the best thing for the rest of the Lifeline staff.

  Especially Reese.

  MONDAY MORNING, she hurried into Lifeline, anxious to see Jared before he was swamped with other problems or was called out on a pediatric flight.

  When she burst into his office, though, she found him already deep in conversation with Reese. Her stomach clenched painfully. She didn’t doubt Reese was filling Jared in on what a huge security risk she’d become.

  “Samantha.” Reese quickly stood. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Her sarcasm made him wince. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather discuss my personal problems with Jared—alone.”

  “Samantha, sit down. Please.” Jared’s voice held enough authority to make her drop into the chair next to Reese. ”Reese was filling me in on your ex-husband, and I must say I agree. Increasing security around here is the first order of business. Then we’ll—”

  “You don’t need to do anything, Jared,” Samantha interrupted. “Except find someone to replace me. I’m formally requesting a reassignment.”

  “Request denied.” Jared didn’t even blink. “There’s a private investigator I know, a guy by the name of Brandon Rafter. I think he can help us find your ex.”

  What was he talking about? “You can’t deny my request.”

  “Sure, I can.” Jared smiled. “We’ve spent weeks training you. I can’t replace you on a whim. Spring is coming, and when the weather warms, the trauma calls will double, if not triple. Besides, you’re safer here where we already have specialized security than in another rotation.”

  “A whim?” her voice sharpened. “A transfer is best for everyone’s safety.”

  “And it’s better for you to stay.” Jared’s tone brooked no argument.

  “Do you have a recent picture of Markowitz?” Reese wanted to know. “I think Brandon will need a photo to use during his investigation.”

  Sam reached up to rub her aching temples. They weren’t listening to her. “I don’t have a picture. I didn’t keep anything of our marriage.” She looked up at Jared. “Please think about this. I can stay long enough for you to train my replacement, then I’ll leave.”

  “Last night you refused to run,” Reese pointed out quietly. “Why don’t you give Rafter a chance? He can do exactly what the police can’t, follow Markowitz and catch him in the act. Once he’s been arrested, you’ll be safe.”

  Samantha could hardly imagine her life without Dennis the Menace looming in the background. The lure of possibly catching Dennis in the act was one she couldn’t resist. Heaven knew, she wanted her life back.

  But if anything happened to the Lifeline crew, especially to Reese, she wasn’t sure she could live with yourself.

  9

  Indecision warred deep within. Sam hated feeling backed into a corner, but she finally nodded. “Okay. I won’t run.” At least, not yet, she silently amended. If the threats escalated, all bets were off.

  As the men discussed hiring Brandon Rafter and outlining the private investigator’s duties, a ray of hope filtered into her heart. Maybe they were onto something. Reese was right. This guy could do things the police couldn’t. Why hadn’t she thought of hiring a private investigator before now?

  Because she’d been too busy running. The realization made her squirm. She’d worked so hard to get through medical school, to get accepted into an emergency medicine residency program. Now she was so close to graduating, to actually achieving success, that she’d chosen to keep running rather than to dig her heels in and fight.

  “Since you don’t have a picture, we’ll need you to search for one on various social media sites,” Jared said, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Is that necessary? I mean, Dennis works at Weller Pharmaceuticals. His identity isn’t a secret.” She paused. “At least, he used to work there,” she amended. “By now he may have a job with another company.” It hadn’t occurred to her that if Dennis had changed jobs to be with a different company, his territory may in fact include selling pharmaceutical products to the emergency medicine doctors here on campus. It would also explain why he’d met with Ben, her boss.

  “Honestly, I think the social media is our best way to get a quick picture,” Jared said. “Since you know what he looks like, it shouldn’t take you too long to find him.” Jared glanced at his watch. “You can use the computers here to do that search before you fly.”

  “I’m working nights tonight, so the search won’t interfere with my ability to fly.” Especially since searching social media probably wouldn’t take long. “Anything else?”

  “Once you have Markowitz’s photo, you’ll need to give all the information you have to Rafter so he can do his job.” Reese stared intently at her face as if gauging her reaction.

  She kept her expression impassive, not sure she was ready to forgive him for coming to Jared without even talking to her about it first. “I will.”

  “Great. It’s settled. I’ll call Rafter.” Jared reached for his phone.

  Samantha went over to use the computer in the Lifeline lounge. It didn’t take her long to find a recent picture of Dennis Markowitz. Just seeing his face on the screen was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach. When she found a photo that included a close-up of his face, she printed it on the color printer sitting adjacent to the computer.

  While she had been doing her searching, Jared must’ve asked Brandon Rafter to meet them at Lifeline. Jared asked Sam to come into his office and introduced her to Brandon.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, offering her hand.

  Brandon shook it solemnly. “Same here.”

  She looked pointedly at Jared, who thankfully left her alone in his office with the private investigator.

  “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances,” Brandon said.

  “Yeah. Well.” She shifted awkwardly. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I have time.”

  Sam found it surprisingly easy to talk to the quiet private investigator. He was young, maybe in his thirties, and handsome in a rugged sort of way. It wasn’t easy for her to describe the events that led to the dissolution of her marriage, but Brandon didn’t pass judgment or gush with sympathy. He was an excellent listener. At least, until the end when she asked about his fees. At that point, he abruptly stood.

  “You’ll have to discuss the bill with Dr. O’Connor,” he told her hastily. “For now, you’ve given me exactly what I need to work with. This photo and the details of Dennis Markowitz’s background should make it easy enough for me to find him.”

  Samantha stood, secretly annoyed with Jared. Was he really paying the bill or charging Lifeline for the private investigator’s services? Either way wasn’t right. This was her personal problem, no one else’s. “You’ll give me updates on what you find out?”

  “As often as I can. Every few days to start, more often if I find something worth bothering you about,” he promised.

  Samantha knew he would, and the fact that Jared trusted him fueled her confidence. “Thanks.”

  SAMANTHA RETURNED to Lifeline a half hour prior to the start of her 1900 night shift. When she arrived, she sought out the printed version of the master schedule. Jared had given up on the electronic scheduling program after it had messed up his schedules, leaving him short a physician on a critical flight. The paper version was annoying but adequate. She looked at what she had coming up, only to notice Reese’s name was written in alongside hers as the pilot on duty.

  And not just for the upcoming shift. No, from the looks of things, he’d managed to manipulate his entire schedule to the point where it mirrored hers. Between Reese and Jared, she was beginning to feel her hard-earned independence slip away.

  She found Reese in the debriefing room but didn’t confront him right away. The off-going shift was still there, updating the oncoming sh
ift on their day’s activities.

  “Weather is supposed to turn foggy later,” Nate, the day shift pilot, informed them. “Hope it holds off for a while.”

  “Me, too,” Samantha agreed. Night shifts were long enough on their own without adding flight delays. The minutes would crawl if they didn’t get a chance to fly.

  Ivan, the paramedic on duty with them, stifled a wide yawn. “I wouldn’t mind a nap. Bethany is cutting teeth, so I didn’t get much sleep today.”

  Sam smiled, having seen recent pictures of Ivan’s beautiful six-month-old daughter. She imagined it would be a challenge to sleep during the day with the baby in the house. “Did you work last night, too?”

  Wearily, Ivan nodded. “Didn’t get much sleep the day before either.” His tone was heavy with regret.

  Their first flight call came in within the first hour of their shift. A single vehicle crash, car versus tree, made Sam suspect alcohol was involved. They weren’t often called to routine accident sites, but from what they’d heard, the driver was on death’s door. But that wasn’t exactly the case.

  When Sam arrived, the driver was unconscious with the strong odor of alcohol on his breath. As she performed a quick head-to-toe assessment while Ivan connected their patient to their equipment, she realized the initial call had been off base. Other than a large bump on his head, the patient was surprisingly uninjured.

  The police at the scene wanted to arrest him, but Sam overrode their wishes, insisting he go to Trinity for evaluation first. After a light debate, the officers agreed to meet them in the emergency department. She knew, from personal experience, that they would hang around until a decision was made to admit him to the hospital or discharge him. If the decision was the latter, he wouldn’t be allowed to go home but would be escorted by the officers straight to jail.

  She and Ivan quickly loaded their patient into the chopper.

  “How are things back there?” Reese asked as they headed toward Trinity.

  “Fine. His head hurts too much for him to be a problem,” Samantha replied. It wasn’t unusual for patients to become combative, especially after sustaining a head injury under the influence of alcohol. But while her patient moaned frequently, he didn’t thrash against the restraints.

  They dropped him off at Trinity without mishap. The police arrived ten minutes later. Samantha and Ivan completed their paperwork, then returned to the helicopter.

  Reese flew them back to the Lifeline hangar to wait for another call. True to his word, Ivan stretched out on the sofa in the lounge, taking advantage of the downtime to close his eyes for some desperately needed rest.

  Samantha left him alone and returned to the debriefing room. She found Reese watching the satellite monitor.

  “How’s the weather holding?”

  “Not too good. Cloud ceiling has dropped, with intermittent patches of fog. If it drops anymore, we won’t be able to fly.”

  Sam hoped the clouds would cooperate, then turned her attention from the monitor. “I noticed you managed to finesse your schedule to match mine. Didn’t I tell you I don’t need a babysitter?”

  “This is work, Samantha. I’m paid to fly, just as you are.” She almost laughed at his comparison. As a resident, her pay was probably half what a pilot earned if not less. “So what if my shifts are the same as yours?” His gaze darkened, and he lowered his tone. “I prefer flying with you.”

  His simple admission made her breath catch in her throat. “I prefer flying with you, too, but that isn’t the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” He stood, stepped closer, then reached up to smooth away a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. “You need to clarify it for me because I must be dense.”

  Her protest died at the brush of his fingertips on her cheek. While she knew he was the wrong man at the wrong time, she yearned for more. His strength, his caring.

  His touch.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She finally pushed the words past her constricted throat. “I’m afraid Dennis may turn his anger toward you.”

  A feral grin tugged at his mouth. “Good. I hope he does just that.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” she said sharply, slapping her hand against his chest encased in the navy blue flight suit.

  His smile vanished. His hands settled on her waist, pulling her toward him. “I wasn’t joking, Samantha. I trained in the military, remember? I can handle myself. What I don’t understand is why you can’t trust me to protect you?”

  “I trust you more than I’ve trusted any man.” She didn’t see the point of hiding the truth. “And you don’t understand what it will do to me if Dennis tries to hurt you.”

  “Your ex-husband is too much of a coward to come after me.” He drew her closer, and she didn’t resist. His arms were strong, and the urge to rest her head on his chest was oh so tempting.

  Maybe Reese would protect her physically, but who would protect her heart? “Reese,” she whispered, splaying her hands wide on his chest. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Kiss me.” He inched her closer until she was pressed against him, and his mouth lowered to hers. This was no tentative brush of his lips against hers. Nope, this time he flat-out kissed her, his mouth parting her lips, tongue delving deep, urging her to respond.

  She did. A thrill of excitement zipped along her nerves as his taste went straight to her head faster than champagne. She’d never felt so on edge yet so protected at the same time. His hands stroked her back, cupped her shoulders, drawing her even closer.

  Her mind went blank under his sensual kiss. When she couldn’t breathe a minute longer, he released her mouth, tipped her head up, and trailed hot sizzling kisses down the line of her jaw. He pushed the fabric of her turtleneck sweater out of the way to press a kiss in the hollow of her throat.

  Their pagers shrilled simultaneously. With a low groan and obvious reluctance, Reese lifted his head. Sam blinked and tried to focus.

  “Multivehicle car crash,” Sam said, reading the message on her pager. “Fifty miles north of here. I need to make sure Ivan is up.”

  “Don’t. We are not responding to this call.” Reese turned toward the phone.

  “What?” Sam swung her gaze toward the monitor to see if she’d missed something. “The cloud ceiling hasn’t moved any lower. And the peds crew is out on a call.”

  He ignored her. “Paramedic base, we are in yellow flying conditions. We are not responding at this time.” Reese’s voice was calm as he gave the directive. “You might want to contact the peds crew to let them know the changing conditions here. They may want to stay put for a while.”

  “Reese, I don’t want to fly in poor conditions any more than you do, but are you sure there isn’t a way for us to respond?” The aborted flight was still fresh in her mind, but it wasn’t even snowing, just a low cloud ceiling. “Those people need help. A few minutes ago, you said if the ceiling drops lower, we won’t fly. Well, it hasn’t dropped lower, it’s the same.” She could not keep the frustration from her voice. “I think we need to respond to this call.”

  “No. You don’t understand the weather conditions like a pilot does.” His calm voice didn’t seem to betray any hint of regret, which only ticked her off.

  “You’re the one who changed his tune,” she argued, her voice rising with anger. “So don’t tell me I don’t understand. If this is your attitude, maybe I’m better off flying with Nate or one of the other pilots.”

  Reese’s dark brown eyes turned black. “You don’t know the risks. I do. The weather can change in a heartbeat. Have you read the detailed crash reports after a fatality? Especially when one of the crew members that died happened to be someone you cared about?”

  The news caught her by the throat. Reese had always seemed cool and calm and in control. But he wasn’t cool now. “No,” she whispered.

  “Well, I have. It isn’t pretty.” Reese jammed his hands into the pockets of his flight suit. He hunched his shoulders as if e
mbarrassed by his outburst. Calmer now, he continued, “The wind is coming in from the north, right over the lake. The crash scene is also fifty miles to the north. When the warmer air over the lake hits the cold north wind, the fog will get worse. Remember the other night, when we were suddenly in the middle of a snowstorm? Lake Michigan makes the weather unpredictable. That’s why I turned down the flight. For your safety, mine, and Ivan’s.”

  “Oh.” She felt small, petty for arguing with him about something she knew so little about. Clearly Reese was the best one to make the decision either way. “You’re right. As the pilot, you should be the one making the call.”

  “Yes, but it’s not always that straightforward.” Reese rubbed his eyes, then leaned his hips against the edge of the desk. “Some pilots would fly in this weather. I’m just not one of them. But you should have the right to decide for yourself, too. Every crew member should.”

  Sam didn’t know quite what to say to that. But she remembered the sad look in his eyes a few days ago, and when combined with the most recent comments, the truth clicked. “Who was she?” she asked.

  He glanced away. “What do you mean?”

  “The woman you cared about and lost to a crash.” The signs were so clear now that she knew to look for them. Everyone joked about Reese peering over Mitch’s shoulder as their mechanic tinkered with the chopper engine and how he took flying safety so seriously. But none of them had understood why. If there had been any rumors about Reese’s past, she hadn’t heard them.

  He was silent for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Valerie. We were engaged to be married. My best friend, Greg Hasking, was the pilot. The physician on board was Jim Whelan, a guy who left behind a wife and two kids.”

  Dear heaven above. Sorrow washed over her. Samantha couldn’t imagine how the poor physician’s widow must have felt, losing her husband so young. And Reese. How had he survived, losing two people so close to him? His best friend and his fiancée? “They all died?”

  Reese slowly nodded. “They were flying to a hospital to pick up a critically ill patient and got caught in a snowstorm in the mountains of Colorado. I—they shouldn’t have been flying. The weather was too risky.”