“The doctor ran blood tests while you were unconscious.”
Liz frowned. The last thing she remembered was driving away from the hotel. Why would she need a blood test?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pressing her fingertips into her eyes, she sighed. “It’s all dark.” She tried to grab hold of what came next but there was nothing other than aching ribs and sore arms.
Why was she there and not at the Stagecoach? She reached out and grasped the woman’s hand. “How long have I been here?”
“Six hours. You had a nasty bump from your accident. Plus the Rohypnol in your system.”
“Accident?” She probed her head with careful fingers. “Wait—Rohypnol?”
“Mmm-hmm. Date-rape drug.”
There was a fly on the ceiling. She watched it fly from drop-tile to drop-tile. “Not possible.”
“Blood tests don’t lie, sweetheart.”
She should be on the way home to Lucas. Not drugged in a hospital. The fly landed on her knee. Kat was right. She’d dropped another ball. “When can I leave? I have a son.”
“We’d like to keep an eye on you a bit longer.”
Liz bunched the scratchy hospital sheets into a wad. “I need my phone.” Her eyes whizzed around her stark room.
“The cute cop dropped your stuff on the chair. I’ll check your vitals then find your phone.”
Liz shuddered as the blood pressure sleeve tightened around her arm. It wouldn’t be one twenty over eighty now. “The cute cop?”
“He’s down in the cafeteria. Asked me to page him when you woke up.” The nurse slid the blood pressure sleeve from Liz’s arm at the same time her eyelid slid closed in a wink. “You’re blessed he was on duty.”
Being ambushed by an attacker and blindsided by a missing fiancé wasn’t the kind of blessing she was looking for.
The nurse rustled through Liz’s purse and pulled out the cell, humming low in her throat. “Looks like you did a number on this little baby.” She handed Liz the shattered phone.
Liz clicked the power button and stared into Lucas’s sweet face. She should be home with him, packing.
Her notifications showed five missed calls from Kat. Heat filled her face while her insides twisted in knots. She slid the open button, cautiously. The bars on her phone were low. She looked up. Only flies could get through those ceilings.
Helplessness flooded her as Kat’s voice mails berated her: she was late, she was unreliable, she was irresponsible and Kat was better for Lucas.
* * *
Riggen hated hospital cafeterias. He’d spent so many hours under their bright lights, waiting to hear if Mom would improve.
As he reread the nurse’s text, he choked down the last of his processed burger and fries. Liz’s blood tests were back. Rohypnol. Date-rape drug?
Anger jolted through him like lightning through a wet summer night. The same drug used on his mother by her abusers. Calculating the dose and efficacy, their attacker now sitting in county jail couldn’t have slipped Liz the drug.
They were dealing with a larger-scale threat.
He grabbed his tray and slammed it on the trash receptacle. He needed to be at Liz’s side whether she was awake or not. And whether she welcomed his presence or not. She was alone. There was no one else to watch over her.
He strode through the corridors that buzzed with endless activity and studied each face he passed. Memorial Hospital was the busiest hospital in the state. Tonight was no exception.
He wasn’t a stranger to the place, but he shouldn’t be there for this. Two attacks on Elizabeth Hart in a single twenty-four-hour period? This couldn’t be coincidence. He swiped open his phone and shot off a text to Rosche.
Liz in hospital. Rohypnol in her system.
Rosche’s response flew back.
We need 2 question suspect again.
They sure did. His boots thundered against polished floors as he hit the emergency wing. The nurse manning the reception desk eyed him through the glass-paned doors. Her brows drew down.
He slowed and waved. Her expression lightened, recognition spreading across her face as the doors slid open. “Did you hear the news, Officer Price? Your girl is awake. She said you could go on in.”
He nodded, not stopping for small talk. “Thanks.”
His strides covered the distance to Liz’s partition in seconds and he pushed aside the curtained divider. Metal grommets bounced along the ceiling rods in brash protest. The anxiety that had been nipping his heels calmed when he laid eyes on Liz.
She turned. Her cheeks matched the sheets she was sitting on. Her bottom lip quivered and she tugged it between her teeth.
He approached, angled sideways and held one hand toward her, as if she were a wounded animal. “What’s wrong?”
She thrust her broken phone into the space between them. “She wants to take our son.”
FIVE
Quaking had started deep in Liz’s core as soon as Kat’s tirade spewed from her voice mail like unbridled wildfire. The words scorched her heart.
They hurt so much worse because they were true. If she were reliable and responsible—like Kat—she’d already have a steady job instead of random deposits whenever a contracting job finished. The affiliate links on her blog were barely enough to pay her car and insurance payments. How did she expect to cover monthly rent?
Yeah, the link income was climbing, but she needed money now. Kat would just get the nine-to-five job. She couldn’t fathom why Liz wouldn’t do the same.
If she loved Lucas.
Those words had seared her soul more than every other fiery dart. She cradled her head in her hands.
Kat was right. If she were more like her sister, she wouldn’t be stuck in this hospital bed with danger swirling around her.
Riggen cleared his throat. “Liz?”
He was still there. She held her phone aloft, her tiny world shaking.
Riggen moved to her side. Restrained energy spiraled around him like steam off a hot spring. He rubbed his palms up and down his pant legs. “What’s happened?” His voice was low. Calm. Controlled.
She hit Speaker. Kat’s voice penetrated the air. With each accusation Kat lobbed at her, Riggen tensed. He looked as though he were carved of stone, as unyielding as Pikes Peak.
For a second, Liz wished back his earlier warmth. Did he agree with Kat? She shrank into the thin hospital pillow.
If she closed her eyes and prayed hard enough, would the warmth return? Because at this moment, she was scared and hurt, and the only other person who had as much of a right to speak an opinion about Lucas’s life was unapproachable.
Her heart bristled. Unapproachable and untrustworthy. She pulled the thin blanket up under her chin. The days of finding comfort in Riggen’s arms had vanished into their past. “I don’t know what to do.” The words ripped her raw.
She’d been struggling under this load—this uncertainty—for five years. More like her whole life. Kat had always been the strong one. Liz was the one who couldn’t hold anything together.
She couldn’t stop the weakness that pushed her to share a portion of that weight with the man standing next to her.
“My sister and brother-in-law are leaving Colorado. This week. He’s got a new job in California. As you can hear, Kat thinks I’m not fit to be a mother. That my baby would be happier, better off, in a more stable environment. With them.” Her mind clouded from an entire lifetime of self-doubt. “I can’t provide stability. Maybe she’s right.”
Riggen tilted his head to the left as if working out tension. “That’s not true. Look at what you’ve accomplished all by yourself. Just because your life doesn’t look how Kat thinks it should look doesn’t make you irresponsible.” His brows snapped together. “And it definitely doesn’t make you unfit.”
“Look at m
e, Riggen.” She tried to wave one bandaged arm in his face, but it got stuck in the blanket. She ripped the blanket off and jabbed her arm his way. “I can’t even keep myself safe. This isn’t what he deserves.”
“That’s Kat’s voice coming out of you. She is so wrong.” Riggen slowly enunciated each word as he sank down on the bed.
“What about stalkers, Riggen?” Her voice squeaked. “I wouldn’t have stalkers if I had a Kat-approved job.”
“I don’t want to discount the danger, but at this point, the stalker story is falling flat.” He pulled his phone out and tapped the screen. “The attacker knew you’d be on the mountain. Knew you’d be alone. He came prepared. So why—after all the prep—did he leave you basically unharmed?”
Liz’s heart pounded in her ears. “He shot at us.”
“And missed.” Riggen pulled up a photo on his phone and showed her a lethal-looking rifle and scope. “M&P10. Scary accurate gun. If he wanted to hit us, we wouldn’t be sitting here discussing his motives. We’d be dead.”
Liz pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from being sick. Dead. What would Kat say to that? She grabbed at hope. “But we’re not dead. And the drugs in my system...the nurse said it wasn’t a fatal dose.”
“True.” Riggen scratched the scruff on his chin. “So why drug you? Why are you being targeted but not taken out? And by whom? This morning’s perp is still locked up.” He reached over and engulfed her hand in his, catapulting her back to starry nights and safe arms.
Her heart rate steadied. Warmth surrounded her despite the danger. “This all seems to be connected to the Sagebrush, but why?”
He intertwined their fingers. “Obviously whoever is sitting in El Paso County Jail is miscast as a stalker. We need to consider the possibility that there’s a bigger threat here.”
His hand was so warm and she was so tired. Could she trust him? Turn to him? She closed her eyes and shook her head. Kat always said parenting wasn’t a lone job. Well, Lucas had more than one parent and that other parent wasn’t Kat. That parent was the man sitting right in front of her. Had God thrown him back into her life for this moment?
She pulled back her hand to wipe the tears that snuck from behind her closed lids. She was tired of shouldering the weight of her world. Tired of always being on duty. Tired of standing alone.
She studied Riggen. His eyes narrowed under her perusal and he shifted closer. The fabric of his duty shirt drew taut across shoulders that had seen war and combat and who knew what else. Maybe she couldn’t trust him with her heart, but she could trust his ability to keep her and Lucas safe. At least until this threat passed.
Liz felt her emotional footing falter as she stepped out onto the slippery slope of security. If she could guard her heart, then she and Lucas could take advantage of the protection Riggen would provide.
At the end of the day, it was either her heart’s safety or her son’s well-being. There was only one answer.
She swallowed the sensation that told her this was a bad idea and faced the man who had haunted every lonely dream. “We need you, Riggen.”
* * *
Liz’s vulnerability hit Riggen with a nagging sensation. Maybe this entire circumstance was more than coincidence. Maybe he didn’t understand God at all.
She couldn’t sit still. Or hide the pain and fear that clashed in the brown and green depths of her eyes. He could see she was trying, but every few moments her hands would flit from her lap to her face and back again in an agitated dance. Her helplessness touched parts of his heart that he thought had died in the dust with his squad.
He shifted to the edge of the bed and caught her hand before it flitted back to her hair. Game face, soldier. “Where is he?” His voice cracked. “Our—”
He couldn’t push it out.
Shame flooded him. Yes, he’d thought God had punished him for his failure and that the only way he could keep his mistakes from hurting Liz was to disappear. But a new picture was being painted for him in real time. When he gave up on life, he gave up on them both.
Now, sitting with the mother of his son, harsh truth blinded him. Maybe it had been him, not a divine sentencing, that had killed their dreams. He shook his head. Either way, dead was dead.
“Kat lives just southeast of Colorado Springs. She’s married to a pastor.” Her answer dragged him from exploring this new and excruciating truth.
He hadn’t seen that one coming. The sisters had never been what he’d consider religious. “Pastor?”
“A lot can change in five years.” She took back her hand and turned to look out the darkening window. “For the better.”
For the better. Did she mean Lucas and God? Or did she mean that she’d built a life without him?
His teeth ached and he relaxed his jaw. He didn’t want to know the answer.
Rising from the bed, he walked to the curtained opening and watched the endless hospital activity. “I’m sure my boss would understand if I need to take time off.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Jones would love this. He could feel the promotion slip from his fingers. “I’ll stay with you until this clears up.”
The chaos outside their partition subsided for a moment and Riggen locked eyes with a man who was exiting the elevator. He stared straight through Riggen.
The air between them radiated with something undefinable. Recognition? A slow smile lifted the man’s lips, raising sallow cheeks. It never reached his eyes.
An ER nurse pushed her computer cart between them, cutting off Riggen’s view. Had he met the man before?
“How much time can you take off?” Liz’s question came from behind him.
He turned to answer. “Couple weeks at least. I was going to use it to work on Dad’s ranch, but that’ll wait. The excursions aren’t bringing in the money they used to. I’ve been living at the cabin and fixing up the property as a way to bring in more clients. Overnight bookings.”
He pressed fingers into his temples. He didn’t want to drain the family business if it couldn’t employ two people. There had to be a way to get Dad’s business on solid footing again.
He’d figure it out, but now wasn’t the time. He turned back to the bustling hallway and searched the faces again. The man was gone.
Crossing his arms, he pushed away the ache that surfaced when he thought of Dad. “So, why did you stay with your sister if she was this controlling?”
Liz climbed from the bed and stood. She swayed and sat back on the edge, pulling her purse strap over her shoulder. “She took me in when I couldn’t take care of myself. You think I should have repaid that by abandoning her?”
He held up his hands. “Touché. I’m not trying to find fault with your parenting. I’m the last person who should question your decisions. I didn’t even know I had a son when I woke up this morning.”
He froze. Opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Liz rose from the bed and edged closer. What must he look like to cause the expression of alarm that swept over her face?
“I...” He swallowed regret the size of a boulder. “I don’t know his name.”
She was close enough to slip her hand down his arm. “Lucas James.”
Her answer knocked him back. Lucas. After Dad.
Her fingers stroked up and down his bicep. She was so close, he could feel the heat of her body. “I read about his death. I’m so sorry.”
His vision blurred and he stared up at the ceiling, unprepared for the emotions that washed through him. Soft fingers sneaked into his hand, pulling him back to reality.
Somehow, this woman who he didn’t deserve and no longer knew, understood him better than anyone else did.
Then she stepped back, her eyes blanked as if she’d spent her emotions and had nothing left to give. “Don’t think that means I got over what you did. I need—” she gripped her purse strap so tight her fingers turn
ed white “—answers.”
The emotional tidal wave that came with the revelation of his son’s name crashed against the blunt edge of her words. He nodded. “Thank you. For the name, I mean. As for the answers, we’ll talk when we—” His words were swallowed in the explosion that threw him across the room.
* * *
“It’s safe to say that our guy in lockup didn’t do this.” Rosche’s irony bounced off the hospital’s surveillance monitor as she squinted at the frozen footage.
Riggen’s ears still hadn’t stopped ringing. They had started as he’d watched Liz crumple to the floor after an explosion that was too close to his past. He’d failed again. Did he really think he could ever keep them safe?
Well, there was no going back now. He squirmed in his chair and focused on Rosche. “Safe bet. And—” he moved the ice pack from his eye to get a better look “—I think it’s also safe to say that this, along with the Rohypnol, proves we’re not dealing with a single stalker.”
Rosche hit Pause as the screen showed the man who had made eye contact with Riggen in the hospital corridor attach a detonation device on the half wall surrounding the nurses’ station. He’d then blended in with a group of interns and disappeared.
Thankfully, only one employee had been within the blast radius. Last he had heard, she had escaped with a minor concussion and a few stitches.
“We’ll have to wait for Arson to tell us what type of explosive was used, but it sure didn’t pack much of a punch.” Rosche stepped back from the monitor, letting Colorado Springs PD resume control of the recording equipment. She cocked her head to the side. “Why such a small payoff?”
Riggen pushed his aching body from the chair and joined Rosche at the side of the monitor. Recognition still tugged at his gut. “Rewind that,” he asked the Colorado Springs Police detective. “I think I know him.”
Treacherous Mountain Investigation Page 5