by Diana Palmer
She frowned. “I’ll have to phone somebody at my office, to tell them what’s happened.”
“Everybody at your office already knows what happened,” Cash told her. “Well, except your boss,” he added, just when her heart had skipped two beats. “He had to fly to Denver on some sort of personal business. Something to do with his stepfather.”
“Oh.” It was just as well, she thought. Now she wouldn’t have to see him again. Kell didn’t know Dr. Rydel had fired her, but this wasn’t really the time to tell him. It could wait. “What about our house?”
“Kell gave me the key,” he said. “I’ll get it to Keely. She’ll make sure the lights are off and everything’s locked up and the fridge is cleaned out.”
“I don’t want to live there anymore,” she told Kell in a subdued tone.
“We don’t have to make decisions right now,” he replied, wincing as he moved. “Hell, I think it was better when I couldn’t feel my legs!”
“You’ll enjoy walking again,” Cappie said gently. “Kell, it would be like a miracle. At least some good would have come out of all this.”
“Just what I was thinking.” He smiled at her. “Now don’t worry. It’s going to work out.”
“Yes, it is,” Cash agreed. “Rick Marquez is going to make sure every cop in San Antonio has a personal description of Frank Bartlett, and he’s talked to a reporter he knows at one of the news stations. Your nemesis Frank is going to be so famous that if he walks into a convenience store, ten people are going to tackle him and yell for the police.”
“Really? But why?”
“Did I mention that there’s a reward for his capture?” Cash added. “We took up a little collection.”
“How kind!”
“You should stay here,” Cash said seriously. “It’s a good town. Good people.”
Her face closed up. “I’m not living in any town that also houses Dr. Rydel.”
Cash and Kell exchanged a long look.
“But Kell might like to stay,” she added.
Kell wondered what was going on. Cappie had been crazy about her boss until today. “I think we need to have a talk about why you’re down on your boss,” he told her.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “First thing.”
“I’ll probably be in surgery tomorrow, first thing,” Kell replied.
She smiled wanly. “Then I’ll tell you while you’re unconscious. When do we leave?” she added.
Kell wanted to argue, but they’d given him something for pain, and he was already drooping. “As soon as the helicopter gets here. Need anything from the house? I’m sure Cash would run you over there.”
She shook her head. “I’ve got my purse and my phone. Oh, here’s the house key,” she added, pulling it off her key ring and handing it to Cash. “I know you gave Kell’s to Keely, but you may need mine. Thanks a lot.”
“If you need anything, you can call Keely. She’ll run it up to you, or her husband or her sister-in-law will.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And try not to worry,” Cash added, moving away from the window. “Things always seem darkest before the dawn. Believe me, I should know,” he added with a smile. “I’ve seen my share of darkness.”
“You’re a wonderful police chief,” she told him.
“Another good reason to stay in Jacobs County,” he advised.
“We can agree to disagree on that point,” she replied. “I might reconsider if you’d lock Dr. Rydel up and throw away the key.”
“Can’t do that. He’s the best veterinarian around.”
“I guess he is, at that.”
Cash wisely didn’t add to his former statement.
The trip in the helicopter was fascinating to Cappie, who’d never flown in one, despite Kell’s years in the military. She’d had the opportunity, but she was afraid of the machines. Now, knowing that it was helping to save Kell’s legs, she changed her opinion of them.
She sat quietly in her seat, smiling at the med techs, but not talking to them. She’d had just about all she could stand of men, she decided, for at least the next twenty years. She only hoped and prayed that Kell would be able to walk again. And that somebody would find Frank Bartlett before he came back to finish what he’d started.
Bentley Rydel walked into his office three days later, out of sorts and even more irritable than he’d been when he left. His stepfather had suffered a stroke. It hadn’t killed him, but he was temporarily paralyzed on one side and in a nursing home for the foreseeable future. Bentley had tracked down the man’s younger brother and made arrangements to fly him to Denver to look after his sibling. All that had taken time. He didn’t begrudge giving help, but he was still upset about Cappie. Why had he been stupid enough to get involved with her? Hadn’t he learned his lesson about women by now?
The office hadn’t officially opened for business; it was ten minutes until it did. He found every employee in the place standing behind the counter glaring at him as if he’d invented disease.
His eyebrows arched. “What’s going on?” His face tautened. “Cappie’s suing me for asking her to quit, is she?” he asked with cold sarcasm.
Dr. King glared back. “Cappie’s in San Antonio with her brother,” she said. “Her ex-boyfriend and two of his friends beat Kell within an inch of his life.”
He felt the blood drain out of his face. “What?”
“They’ve got Cappie surrounded by police and volunteers, trying to keep the same thing from happening to her,” Keely added curtly. “Sheriff Carson checked into Frank Bartlett’s background and found several priors for battery against women, but nobody was willing to press charges until Cappie did. She wasn’t exactly willing at that—her brother forced her to, when she got out of the hospital. Bartlett beat her bloody and broke her arm. She said that she’d probably be dead if Kell hadn’t managed to knock out Bartlett in time.”
He felt as if his throat had been cut. He’d believed the man. How could he have done that to Cappie? How could he have suspected her of such deceit? She’d been the victim. Bentley had believed the lying ex-boyfriend and fired Cappie. Now she was in danger and it was his fault.
“Where is she?” he asked heavily.
“She told us not to tell you,” Dr. King said quietly. “She doesn’t want to see you again. In fact, she’s got her old job back in SanAntonio and she’s going to live there.”
He felt sick all over. No, she wouldn’t want to stay in Jacobs County now. Not after the job Bentley had done on her self-esteem. It had probably been hard for her to trust a man again, having been physically assaulted. She’d trusted Bentley. She’d been kind and sweet and trusting. And he’d kicked her in the teeth.
He didn’t answer Dr. King. He looked at his watch. “Get to work, people,” he said in a subdued tone.
Nobody answered him. They went to work. He went into his office, closed the door and picked up the telephone.
“Yes?” Cy Parks answered.
“Where’s Cappie?” he asked quietly.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to change my name and move to a foreign country,” Cy replied dryly.
“Tell me anyway. I’ll buy you a fake mustache.”
Cy chuckled. “Okay. But you can’t tell her I sold her out.”
“Fair enough.”
Cappie was worn-out. She’d been in the waiting room around the clock until Kell was through surgery, and it had taken a long time. The chairs must have been selected for their comfort level, she decided, to make sure nobody wanted to stay in them longer than a few minutes. It was impossible to sleep in one, or even to doze. Her back was killing her. She needed sleep, but she couldn’t leave the hospital until she knew Kell was out of the recovery room.
Beside her, two tall, somber men sat waiting also. One of them was dark-eyed and dark-headed, and he never seemed to smile. The other one had long blond hair in a ponytail and one pale brown eye and an eye-patch on the other. He was good-natured about his disability and referred to
himself as Dead-Eye. He chuckled as he said it. She didn’t know their names.
Detective Sergeant Rick Marquez had dropped by earlier in the day to talk to her about Frank Bartlett’s family and friends. She did know about Frank’s sister, but she hadn’t met any of his friends. Detective Marquez was, she thought, really good-looking. She wondered why he didn’t have a steady girlfriend.
Marquez had assured her that he was doing everything possible to track down Frank Bartlett, and that a friend of his who was a news anchor was going to broadcast a description of Bartlett and ask for help from the public to apprehend him. There was a two-thousand-dollar reward being offered for information leading to his arrest and conviction.
Brenda came with her to the hospital and stayed until she was called into her own office for an emergency surgery on a dog patient. She’d promised to return as soon as she could. She was upset that Cappie wasn’t going to stay with her. She could borrow a gun, she muttered, and shoot that two-legged snake if he came near the apartment. But Cappie smiled and said she hadn’t been thinking straight when she’d called and asked for a place to stay. She wasn’t risking Brenda. Besides, she had security. Brenda gave the two men a long, curious glance. She did mention that she wouldn’t want to mess with them, if she was a bad man. The one with the ponytail grinned at her.
After Brenda left, Cappie sat with her two somber male attachments while people came and went in the waiting room. She drank endless cups of black coffee and tried not to dwell on her fears. If Kell could just walk again, she told herself, the misery of the past few days would be worth it. If only!
Finally the surgeon on Kell’s case came out to speak with her, smiling in his surgical greens.
“We removed the shrapnel,” he told her. “I’m confident that we got it all. Now we wait for results, once your brother has time to heal. But I’m cautiously optimistic that he’ll walk again.”
“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, giving way to tears. “Thank God!”
“Now, will you please go and get some sleep?” he asked. “You look like death walking.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you, Dr. Sims. Thank you so much!”
“You’re very welcome. Leave your cell phone number at the nurses’ desk and they’ll phone you if they need you.”
“I’ll do that right now.”
She went to the nurses’ desk with her two companions flanking her and looking all around them covertly.
“I’m Kell Drake’s sister,” she told a nurse. “I want to give you my cell phone number in case you need to get in touch with me.”
“Certainly,” a little brunette replied, smiling. She pulled a pad over to her and held a pen poised over it. “Go ahead.”
Cappie gave the number to her. “I’ll always have it with me, and I won’t turn it off.”
The brunette looked from one man to the other curiously.
“They’re with me,” Cappie told her. She leaned over the counter. “You see, they’re in terrible danger and I have to protect them.”
The two men gave her a simultaneous glare that could have stopped traffic. The brunette managed to smother a giggle.
“Okay, guys, I’m ready whenever you are,” she told them.
The one with the eye-patch pursed his lips. “Want a head start?” he asked pointedly.
She grinned up at him. “You want one?” she countered.
He chuckled, and indicated that she could go first. He turned and winked at the little brunette, who flushed with pleasure. He was whistling as he followed Cappie out through the waiting room.
“You, protect us,” the other man scoffed. “From what…bug bites?”
“Keep that up,” Cappie told him, “and I’ll show you a bite.”
“Now, now, let’s try to get along,” Dead-Eye murmured as they waited for the elevator to come back up.
“I’m getting along. She’s the one with the attitude problem,” the other man muttered.
“Says you,” Cappie told him.
He stared at Dead-Eye and pointed at Cappie.
“I never take sides in family squabbles,” Dead-Eye told him.
“She is not a member of my family!” the other man said.
“A likely story,” Dead-Eye said. “Anyway, how can you be sure? Have you had your DNA compared to hers?”
“I know I’m not related to you,” the man told Dead-Eye.
“How do you know that?” came the dry retort.
“Because you’re too ugly to be any kin to me.”
“Well, I never,” Dead-Eye harrumphed. “Look who’s calling who ugly.”
“Your mother dresses you funny, too.”
Cappie was already light-headed with relief. These two were setting off her quirky sense of humor. “I can’t take the two of you anywhere,” she complained. “You embarrass me to tears.”
“Can I help it if he’s ugly?” the second man said. “I was only stating a fact.”
“He’s not ugly,” Cappie defended Dead-Eye. “He’s just unique.”
Dead-Eye grinned at her. “We can get married first thing in the morning,” he said. “I’ve been keeping a wedding ring in my chest of drawers for just such an emergency.”
Cappie shook her head. “Sorry. I can’t marry you tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“My brother won’t let me date ugly men.”
“You just said I wasn’t ugly!” he protested.
“I lied.”
“I can have my nose fixed.”
She frowned. It was a very nice nose.
“I can alter it for you with my fist,” the other man volunteered.
“I can alter you first,” Dead-Eye informed him.
“No fighting,” Cappie protested. “We’ll all end up in jail.”
“Some of us have probably escaped from one recently,” the other man said with a pointed look at Dead-Eye.
“I didn’t have to escape. They let me out on account of my extreme good looks,” Dead-Eye scoffed.
“Your looks are extreme,” came the reply. “Just not good.”
“If you two don’t stop arguing, I’m going to have my best friend come over to spend the night with us, and you two will be sharing the sofa,” she assured them.
“Just shoot me now,” Dead-Eye muttered, “and be done with it. I’m not sharing anything with him. Not unless he’s got proof he isn’t rabid.”
The elevator door had opened while they were arguing. Dr. Bentley Rydel stepped off it and stared at the younger man while Cappie gaped at his sudden appearance.
“He isn’t rabid,” Bentley assured Dead-Eye.
“And how would you know?” Dead-Eye asked.
“I’m a veterinarian,” Bentley replied curtly.
“We should go,” Cappie said, avoiding Bentley’s eyes.
“We?” he asked, scowling.
“These are my two new boyfriends,” Cappie told him with a cold scowl. “We’re sharing a room.”
He knew she wasn’t involved with two strangers. He had a pretty good idea of who they were and why she was with them. She probably expected him to believe the bald statement, with his track record.
“I heard about Kell,” he said quietly. “How is he?”
“Out of surgery and resting comfortably, thank you,” she said formally. “We have to go.”
“Can we talk?” Bentley asked somberly.
“If you can get them,” she indicated her companions, “to tie me up and gag me, sure. Let’s go, guys.”
She walked into the elevator and stood with her back to the door until she heard it close.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CAPPIE DIDN’T sleep, of course. She was replaying the last forty-eight hours in her mind all night, sick with worry about Kell. It was her fault that Frank Bartlett had ever gotten near them. If only she hadn’t been so flattered by his attention, so crazy about him that she ignored Kell’s warnings. If only she hadn’t gone out with him at all.
Pity, she thought, that people
couldn’t set the clock backward and erase all the stupid things they did. Like getting involved with Dr. Bentley Rydel, for example, she told herself. It had surprised her to find him at the hospital. Somebody in Jacobsville must have told him what had happened, and he felt sorry for her. Maybe he was willing to overlook her smarmy past long enough to check on her brother’s condition. That didn’t mean he believed her innocence or wanted to get involved with her again. Which was just as well, she told herself, because she certainly wanted nothing more to do with him!
She got up and dressed…in the same clothes she’d worn the day before. She hadn’t packed anything. She’d have to call Keely and ask her to go to the house and pack a few items of clothing for her and Kell. But she’d make sure Keely got an armed person to go with her, in case Frank was waiting around to see if Cappie turned back up.
When she opened her bedroom door, the two men were arguing over the coffee in the tiny little coffeepot that came, with coffee, as a perk for staying in the hotel.
“There’s not enough for three people,” Dead-Eye was muttering, refusing to let go of the pot.
“Then you can get yours at a café, because I’m having mine here,” the other man said coldly.
“We’re all having ours at the hospital, because I’m leaving right now,” Cappie informed them, starting for the door.
“See what you get for starting a fight? Now neither of us is having coffee,” Dead-Eye scoffed as he turned off the coffeepot and put the little carafe back in it.
“You started it first,” the other man said coolly.
Cappie ignored the banter and opened the door.
“Hold it right there.”
Dead-Eye was in front of her in a heartbeat, his hand under his jacket as a tall man walked into view in the hall. He stood immobile, waiting.
But it wasn’t Frank. It was another man, and a woman and child suddenly appeared behind him and started talking to him.
“Nice day,” Dead-Eye told them with a smile.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” The man smiled back and herded his family ahead of him down the hall.