A Temporary Arrangement

by Roxanne Rustand

  "The situation Leland mentioned a couple weeks ago."

  "I haven't worked a clinical shift since then, so I haven't been involved in direct patient care." Distributing the last of the handouts, Abby glanced at the open doorway and lowered her voice. "No harm came from what happened with my charting, thank God, but I did remind the nurses that tampering with documentation is grounds for immediate dismissal. Perhaps even a formal reprimand or loss of state licensure. I would certainly pursue it to the fullest extent."

  "Good. Has there been any more trouble?"

  "Not that we've found." Abby glanced around the

  room. "But knowing that someone tried to frame me is more than a little frightening."

  "Why would anyone do that? Could it have just been inadvertent?"

  "I wish I could believe it was. But someone had to physically remove those assessments from the charts in the ER. And there's no way altering progress notes could be accidental. Every nurse and aide knows documentation is inviolable. It's why we all use black, waterproof ink—mandated by administration and stated in the policy manual."

  'Then back to my question. Why would anyone—"

  Gwen and Carl, representing the nursing staff, walked in the door, followed by Marge from the business office, Erin Reynolds and Dr. Leland Anderson. By the time they were settled at the table, Dr. Connor Reynolds appeared, trailed by Leo Crupper, a local businessman who'd been on the hospital board for years.

  "We're going to keep this to a half hour," Erin announced from the front of the room. "I know you're all busy, and we've had these plans set up for some time. I just want to make sure we're ready for the fund-raiser next week. We don't want any surprises."

  Leo stood and nodded to the others. "The food committee has the menu all set. We've got the hospital kitchen staff preparing the buffet, and we've got a nice cake donated by Ellen's Bakery—a big fancy one. The M & B Liquor store donated two cases of champagne. No new problems that I can see at this point."

  Erin nodded and Leo sat. "Good news. Decorations?"

  Carl scowled and nudged Gwen's arm, and settled deeper in his chair.

  Obviously nervous about speaking in front of the others, Gwen stood and twisted her fingers together, her gaze fastened on the table in front of her. "Urn.. .the Floral Experience promised a big bouquet for the head table and a single rose with fern in a crystal vase for each of the smaller ones. They suggested a raffle for the decorations, which will bring in more money."

  "Great. Thanks." Erin jotted a few notes and then searched the room. "Music—that would be you, Dr. Anderson."

  "All set. As you know, last month, my wife lined up the five-piece orchestra that played for our son's wedding. They're still on and have agreed to donate their services from nine until eleven that night." He smiled thinly. "Since I have two daughters getting married next year and I head up the entertainment committee at our club, they probably figured it's a smart investment."

  Erin laughed. "Good for you, Leland. Marge?"

  The older woman lumbered to her feet. "The silent auction plans are on schedule. We've got forty donations so far, ranging from home cleaning services to weekends at time-shares in Florida, Denver and the Bahamas, and the online bids are already starting to climb on those."

  "And what about the car?"

  "Fantastic. The bids are already up to seven thousand, and we've still got nine days to go. A lot of people are probably holding back until the night of the dinner, hoping they'll get a good deal."

  'Thanks, Marge." Erin flipped to another page in her notebook. "We've got volunteers canvassing the county, selling tickets. So far, they've sold over three hundred for the dinner dance. At twenty dollars each, that's..."

  Leo snorted. "Now where in creation are you gonna put three hundred people, much less feed 'em? I thought there was going to be a cap of two seventy-five."

  "The pavilion at the county fairgrounds should still work fine," Erin said. "There've been wedding dances out there with four hundred guests. But not everybody will show up. There's a place on the ticket to mark if the purchase is just a donation rather than a plan to attend, and there've been about twenty of those so far." She looked around the room. "Any questions?"

  Carl frowned at the clock and shifted in his chair. "I need to get back to the unit."

  Abby watched him head for the door. She caught Jill watching him go, as well, her mouth pursed. Their eyes met.

  Carl?

  He was a highly competent nurse, but he'd pulled a lot of sick time over the past six months and his

  veiled, sarcastic attitude had recently ruffled feathers at the hospital more than once.

  Marcia had actually asked to change her shift so she wouldn't have to work with him again.

  Could he be the one who'd tried to discredit Abby?Butw/ry?

  178 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

  At the sound of a key in the back door she grabbed her robe, cinched it tight and leaned against the door frame of her bedroom to watch him come in. "Hi."

  He shucked off his boots and turned, surprise lighting his weary face. "You're up late. How come?"

  "Couldn't sleep." She lifted a shoulder, wondering if she dared ask the question that had been on the tip of her tongue all week. "Things at work, I guess."

  "Not going well?"

  "Just.. .busy. The usual, plus the last-minute preparations for the dinner dance and silent auction this Saturday. If it goes well enough, we'll be able to replace a lot of the outdated equipment in the ER."

  "I read about it in the paper. Good cause." He opened the refrigerator and looked inside, then shut the door and touched the side of the coffeepot on the counter.

  "It's still warm, but it's decaf. If you want some chocolate-chip cookies, Keifer and I baked them tonight before he went to bed."

  Ethan retrieved several from the cookie jar, poured himself a cup and turned to face her. "You've been wonderful for him. I don't know if I've thanked you for how you've taken over things around here."

  "You have. Just about every day." She smiled, then took a deep breath. "So now I have a favor to ask you."

  "Shoot."

  "Frankly, I need a date for Saturday night, or I'm going to be dodging Leo Crupper and one of the retired doctors most of the night. You don't have 10

  appear romantic," she added hastily when he raised a brow. "You don't even have to dance, but if you're there, I can tactfully fend them off."

  Ethan chuckled. "Fend them off?"

  "I'm just not in the market for a relationship with someone a good forty years older than I am."

  "Sounds like fun," he said dryly. "But I couldn't leave Keifer alone, and that would be a long night."

  "Erin offered to invite him to a sleepover with her kids on Saturday. She's got a dependable babysitter."

  "I can talk to Keifer and see what he thinks." Ethan hesitated. "You do know this would give the gossips more fuel if you and I arrive together."

  "They haven't needed any. I hear I'm still quite the topic at the water cooler. Long after I leave town, I'll be remembered as that floozy from Detroit."

  He laughed. The deep rich sound of it rolled over her, reminding her how truly sexy the man was.

  "Then again, perhaps this isn't such a good idea. Maybe you've got your eye on somebody in town, and she could get the wrong idea."

  "If that were the case, I think the horse is already out of the barn," he said with a smile. "But I'm not too concerned."

  She fingered the collar of her robe. "This whole arrangement was your idea."

  "That it was."

  "I promise, I've never led anyone to believe there's anything going on between us."

  "I haven't had any doubt on that score. Believe

  180 A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

  me." The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. "And if Keifer is comfortable about an overnight at Erin's, I'd be honored to go with you."

  "Thanks. I—" A faint, keening sound rose outside the back door
. "Is that Rufus?"

  "Shouldn't be. I close her and the pups in the shed every night so they can't wander off."

  They heard the eerie sound again, and she was suddenly very glad Ethan was here. "Maybe it's the wind."

  He flipped on the porch light and looked outside. "Well, I'll be."

  He pushed open the screen door, knelt and held out his hand. "C'mon, old girl, I'll bet someone here will be really glad to see you."

  Belle.

  Though from her muddy and bedraggled coat, it was hard to tell. She took one wary step forward. Then another, gingerly moving each paw. She'd been gaunt before, but now her ribs showed through her hide like the bars of an old-fashioned radiator, and her eyes were sunken. With each faltering step she left a smear of blood on the floor.

  "Oh, my God," Abby breathed. "What happened to her?"

  "Nothing good," Ethan growled. He grabbed a cereal bowl from the cupboard, filled it with water and put in front of her.

  She licked it dry and looked up at him, pleading for more.

  "In a while, girl, or it'll come back up." He frowned as he headed out the back door. "I'll go get some of Rufus's dog food from the shed."

  Abby pulled the entryway rug over and coaxed Belle onto it. The dog gingerly dropped down, her head on her extended front paws. The pads of her feet were worn raw and cut, as if she'd traveled a great distance. The skin and hair had been rubbed away over the angles of her hips and shoulders.

  Abby ran a gentle hand over the dog's head and neck. "Why did you run away?"

  Her fingers hit something sticky, wet. Belle flinched.

  "Look at this," she whispered as Ethan came back inside. "It's awful."

  A band of raw, abraded skin encircled the dog's neck, weeping blood where the wounds went deep.

  Ethan swore under his breath. "Looks like someone tied her with a rope.. .maybe even dragged her behind a car. Call the sheriff, will you? We're going to report this right now, and we'll take her to a vet first thing in the morning."

  She made the call, dialing with shaky fingers, then took a deep breath and turned back to Ethan and Belle.

  He was on the floor, cradling the dog's head in his lap, crooning to her so softly, Abby could barely hear. When Abby came closer he looked up at her with anger blazing in his eyes.

  "The bastard who did this is a dangerous man, Abby. I wonder if he unlocked the gate and stole her.

  If I'm right, he's caused trouble here before and he could decide to come back. Maybe you'd better find a safer place to stay."

  The next morning Abby called the hospital to tell them she'd be a few hours late, then she followed Ethan and Keifer into town. The vet examined and X-rayed Belle, cleansed her wounds and discovered she had areas of blunt trauma—possibly from being kicked, given the shape and size of them—and an abscess. They left the clinic with ten days of sulfa pills, antibiotic cream and directions to bring her back if she wasn't eating or drinking well.

  At the sheriff's office, the deputy came outside to take a look at her.

  "Unbelievable," Milt concluded as he ran a hand over the knobs of Belle's spine. "We see cruelty from time to time, and I always wonder why on God's green earth anyone would treat an animal like this."

  Ethan waited until Keifer wandered over to stare at a gleaming, chrome-encrusted Harley parked a few parking spaces down, then lowered his voice and recounted the incident with the damaged padlocks and his suspicions about the trio of young men he'd seen at the street dance. "I wanted to talk to them, but they saw me coming and disappeared."

  Milt snorted. "Those three are trouble, and they're slippery. We found a portable meth lab last fall and we're almost sure they were involved, but they didn't leave prints and their daddies all had good alibis foi

  'em. Bobby Hawkins's dad is the local bank president. and he was outraged that we'd even question the character of his son. Buford and Rowley claimed they were up north fishing with their bo> s that weekend."

  Abby frowned. "Can you at least check into this? Talk to these people?"

  Til talk to Sheriff Johnson. Maybe we can go out together and visit each of the families. But without proof..." He raised a brow and looked from Abby to Ethan. "Well, we won't have much to go on. Maybe your dog just wandered off and got tangled up in something and couldn't get free." Milt seemed to warm to the idea. *Tf an animal struggles long enough, it can sure do itself harm.* 1

  "I have trouble imagining that." Abby said firmly. "Just look at her. The rope burn goes around her neck. I hardly think she could've found a noose and put her head through it."

  "It could also be someone else entirely. There's more'n a few farmers and townsfolk around here who've lost livestock and pets these past couple years." Milt chewed on his fleshy lower lip as he regarded Ethan. "A lot of 'em blame the wolves, and you've been real vocal about the repopulation program. Maybe there were cases you investigated If someone didn't get his money, he might've been nursing a grudge ever since."

  "i was fair, but I never authorized unsubstantiated wolf depredation claims." Ethan turned to Abby.

  "The state gives compensation for a verified wolf kill, but coyotes, bears and feral dogs kill, too."

  "How can you tell which one did it?"

  "We look for wolf tracks, scat or hair left at the site, teeth marks and method. The attack styles are very different. In one case, I just found tufts of hair and the owner seemed nervous. The sheriff and I figured the animal had been stolen or secretly sold, but we could never prove it."

  "That might be," the deputy said, "but folks around here get pretty tense about these things, whether there's proof or not."

  Ethan nodded, ignoring the warning in the deputy's tone. "That's true. But you know as well as I do, there's always someone trying to abuse the system, no matter what the situation."

  "Right." Apparently mollified, the deputy adjusted his service belt and gave Belle a final glance before turning to go back into the building. "I'll let you know what the sheriff and I find out."

  Abby waited until he disappeared inside. "He sure didn't seem very concerned."

  "One sheriff and two part-time deputies cover the whole county. They've got a lot on their plate already, and a case like this is hard to solve and hard to bring to court. It might be different if we'd caught a license plate or had a witness."

  "So he won't do anything." She tried and failed to rein in the bitterness in her voice. "It doesn't matter?"

  "It matters. Anyone who'd mistreat an animal like

  this isn't normal, Abby. Maybe he got a kick out of it. And if he did this as some sort of retaliation, it could escalate and he could come back for even bigger stakes."

  She shivered, thinking about the many miles between Ethan's house and the nearest neighbors. The deep, dark woods surrounding his place, and the vast government land beyond it to the north.

  "I can only hope that next time, I'll be there to get him." Ethan glanced protectively at Keifer, who was still eyeing the motorcycle. His voice turned soft. Deadly. "Because no one is going to threaten my family, livestock or me and get away with it."

  Ethan had encouraged Abby to move to a safer place in town, and she'd thought about it. Carefully.

  But she'd said she'd stay. There were, after all, good locks on the doors. There was a steady stream of fishermen renting the two cabins, and they were within calling distance during the night.

  Besides, she really had nowhere else to go.

  Hooking a crystal chandelier earring into place, she went to the living room doorway. "So, are you packed for your overnight?" she asked. "We need to leave in a few minutes."

  Keifer slumped lower in the sofa and didn't look up from the video game he was playing. "I don't want to."

  "You've met the Reynolds kids in town. Remember? We saw them in the grocery store. Twice."

  No answer.

  "I know those kids, and I promise you, you're going to have lots of fun."

  He stared at the screen.

  "T
he thing is, this is a great chance to get to know them. They like video games, too, and they're..." She thought back to the night she'd had them all over at her apartment in Hubert's house. "Very energetic."

  Abby glanced nervously at her watch. Ethan had returned from fishing an hour later than he'd expected, after having some sort of problems with his boat's motor. He'd disappeared into his room, tired and drawn, and she'd been anxiously pacing ever since.

  Though she'd helped with the decorations out at the pavilion until almost one o'clock this morning, there were still last-minute preparations, and they needed to drop Keifer at Erin's house first.

  On the verge of asking Keifer to go in and check on his dad, she looked over to see Ethan standing in the door of his bedroom.

  Her breath caught in her throat. OK my.

  In a perfectly cut black blazer and crisp charcoal slacks, with a black shirt and a burgundy tie, he looked as sophisticated as any city guy heading to an art gallery.

  Finally remembering to breathe, she reached for her silver-beaded evening bag. "You look wonderful," she told him.

  He looked her over slowly, head to toe. "Very, very nice. Red is definitely your color."

  Red, actually, had been her only color, as this was

  the only dressy outfit she'd packed for the summer. Why on earth had she brought this one?

  She tugged at the low scooped neckline—which dropped even lower in the back—and wished the hemline was a few inches longer. "I sure hope this is appropriate for Blackberry Hill. If not—" she grabbed her lacy black shawl from the back of the sofa "—then I'll be swathed in this thing the entire evening."

  Ethan's appreciative grin widened. "Let's hope not. I'd sure like to see what those elderly beaus of yours do when they see you. They might just trample me."

  Now that she'd seen Ethan, she realized fending off the old folks might have been a better choice.

  "You look a little.. .warm," he said. "We'd better get going. The truck is air-conditioned."