Private Eye Protector

by Shirlee McCoy

  “I’ve been waiting down in the emergency room while they got you settled. My mom was here with Emma, but Emma got fussy and they had to leave. I walked them out to the parking lot and came up. Why?”

  “Someone was here, standing in the doorway, watching me.”

  “The cleaning crew just made its rounds. You probably saw one of the team,” the nurse interjected.

  A custodian?

  Rayne didn’t think so.

  But her head had been fuzzy, her thinking muddled, her vision blurred.

  The nurse glanced at her watch. “I need to go do rounds. The doctor will be here soon. If you need anything before then, just buzz.”

  She hurried out of the room.

  “Are you okay?” Chance asked, and she shrugged, her shoulders aching, muscles she hadn’t even realized she had throbbing in protest.

  A car accident.

  Amnesia.

  Of course she was seeing danger in the shadows…and the doorways.

  “I will be.”

  “Then why do you look so scared?” He studied her face, searched her eyes, saw more than she wanted anyone to.

  Mothers were tough, right?

  Strong.

  Immovable.

  They didn’t rely on other people, because they didn’t need anyone to take care of them. They took care of themselves.

  So no more relying on other people for Rayne.

  That was rule number one for heart-healthy living, and Rayne planned to remember it. No matter what else she forgot.

  “I’m not scared. I just don’t think the guy I saw was a custodian.”

  “Then who do you think he was?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He could have been a nurse or a doctor.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Look, if you’re nervous about staying here alone tonight…”

  “I’m not.” At least, not very.

  “I can stay with you.”

  “Really. I’ll be fine.”

  But something nagged below the surface of her mind.

  Bright lights. Terror.

  There and gone so quickly she couldn’t hold on to them.

  “I planned to hang out for a while anyway, so I’ll wait until the doctor comes in. Then I’ll talk to the maintenance staff. See if any of them were in your room. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like you’re placating me.”

  “I don’t have the time or patience to placate anyone, Rayne.” Chance stretched his long, muscular frame, his gray-blue gaze never leaving her face.

  Handsome.

  Really handsome.

  How could she not remember a face like his?

  “You said we work for the same company.”

  “That’s right. I’m a private detective with Information Unlimited. You’ve worked with several of my clients.”

  A new job.

  A new life.

  A fresh start.

  Working as a victim’s advocate for the P.I. firm that employed her sister-in-law had seemed like a perfect opportunity to put her mistakes behind her.

  That she remembered.

  She also remembered her mistakes.

  Mistake.

  One mistake.

  But a big one. Thankfully, she’d called her engagement off before it could turn in to a catastrophe.

  Something buzzed, the sound jerking her out of the half sleep she’d fallen into. She sat up straight, her heart pounding. Dizzy, disoriented.

  “It’s just my phone,” Chance said quietly.

  Still there.

  Still handsome.

  Still a stranger.

  She watched as he answered his phone, studying his face, trying to remember the day they’d met, the place.

  “Yes. She’s awake. Seems fairly lucid, but she has partial amnesia.” His words penetrated the thick fog in her brain, and she frowned.

  “I’m completely lucid.”

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, then nodded. “I think so. Let me check. Are you up to talking to your brother?”

  “Jonas?”

  Of course Jonas.

  She only had one brother.

  Maybe she wasn’t as lucid as she’d thought.

  “Yes.”

  “Sure.” She took the phone, pressed it to her ear, her hand shaking. “Jonas?”

  “Hey, sis. Rough night, huh?” His familiar voice brought unwanted tears to her eyes, and she sniffed them away.

  “I’ve had better.”

  “You okay?”

  “Aside from a headache, I’m fine.”

  “Glad to hear it. We’ve been worried, but there aren’t any flights leaving until tomorrow afternoon. We should be there sometime tomorrow night.”

  “We?”

  “Skylar and me. Mom and Dad.”

  “You can’t drop everything you’re doing to fly out here.”

  “Sure we can.”

  “Maybe I should rephrase that. I’m doing great. By tomorrow, I’ll be home and back to my routine. I’d rather you all come up for Emma’s first birthday. Just as we planned.”

  “There’s no reason why we can’t come now and in April.”

  “It’s too expensive, and I’ll spend the whole time you’re here feeling guilty.”

  “Rayne—”

  “I promise—if I need you guys here, I’ll let you know. But for right now, I’m fine.”

  “Chance said you have partial amnesia. I don’t consider that fine.”

  “There are just a few holes in my memory. The nurse said that’s common with head injuries. I’ll probably remember everything before I leave the hospital.”

  Chance snorted at her optimism, but Rayne ignored him.

  She loved her family, but they worried too much, jumped in to rescue her before she ever had an opportunity to rescue herself. When she’d taken custody of Emma, Rayne’s mother had offered free babysitting and had insisted on cooking meals, doing the laundry and cleaning. After Rayne broke up with Michael, Jonas and Skylar had traveled from New Mexico to Arizona and stayed with her for a week. The day she’d been held at gunpoint…

  She frowned.

  No need to go back there.

  She’d made her decision before that, knew that she had to break away, prove herself as a mother on her own. No parents and siblings stepping in to rescue her, no fiancé telling her she wasn’t capable. Just Rayne and Emma making a wonderful life in a beautiful new town.

  Anything else would mean weakness, anything else could lead to heartache.

  And she didn’t want either of those things in her life.

  “All right. It’s your choice, but I’m not going to say I’m happy about it. You’ll call if you need anything, right?” Jonas asked, and she forced herself to focus on the question, on the conversation.

  “You know I will.”

  “I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know you’re okay, but as soon as you get a chance, give them a ring. Mom has been beside herself since she got the call saying you were in the hospital.”

  “I’m really sorry I worried all of you.”

  “That’s what families are for.”

  “Worry?”

  “Something like that. Keep safe, sis. Love you.” Jonas disconnected and Rayne handed the phone back to Chance.

  “So you really think you’re going back to your normal routine tomorrow?” he asked as he shoved the phone in his pocket.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Let’s start with the fact that you’re lying in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, with a lump the size of a grapefruit on the side of your forehead.”

  “Is it really that big?” She fingered the bump on her forehead, wincing as she probed the tender flesh.

  “I might be exaggerating, but my point is the same. You’re not going to be doing anything but resting tomorrow.”

  “Hopefully, with my memories intact.” Her words were slurred, her mind fuzzy and, for a moment, she wasn’t sure what they were talking ab
out. Why they were discussing it.

  Didn’t even know if she cared.

  “You’re drifting off again, Goldilocks.”

  “Just resting my eyes,” she mumbled.

  “Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Fabric rustled, and she knew he was going to leave. Felt sure that if he did, something bad would happen. Nothing about this place was familiar, except for him. His eyes. The warmth of his hand. And she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again without either one.

  “Don’t go.” She grabbed his hand, looked into his face. Familiar and strange all at the same time.

  “Okay.” He settled back into the chair. No question about why she wanted him there. No hesitation. No list of things he needed to do.

  Just his presence, given without reservation.

  Not something she was used to.

  Not something Michael would have done.

  Michael.

  Funny that a stranger was willing to give more of himself than her fiancé ever had.

  Or maybe not so funny.

  Michael had promised her everything, but he’d given her nothing of consequence. Dinner dates were nice, phone calls on Tuesday afternoons were fine, but when push came to shove, he’d proven he couldn’t be counted on.

  If you insist on playing mother to a drug addict’s baby, then we’re through. Are you willing to let that happen, Rayne? Willing to give up what we’ve spent almost three years building?

  She’d been willing.

  She wasn’t sure she’d been ready to be a mother, though.

  Still, she didn’t regret the promise she’d made the day Chandra had given birth to the red-faced, red-haired infant.

  Even then, Rayne had loved Emma. She just hadn’t realized she would be her mother.

  She was, though, and she’d do whatever it took to raise her, protect her and give her the life Chandra would have wanted for her.

  It was the last thought she had before darkness carried her away.

  TWO

  Holding hands with Rayne Sampson was not how Chance had planned to spend his evening. As a matter of fact, the only thing he’d planned on holding was the remote for the television. He’d figured he deserved a couple of hours of downtime. It had been a long day.

  A long week.

  A long month.

  A long year.

  And now he was sitting in a hospital room, holding hands with a woman he’d been trying hard to avoid for the better part of two months.

  He frowned, slipping his hand from hers.

  Frowned again when she didn’t move.

  He touched the side of her neck the way he had when he’d found her unconscious in her crumbled car, let his fingers linger on smooth skin and steady pulse.

  “Don’t worry. I haven’t died, yet,” she grumbled, and he let his hand drop away.

  “Yet?”

  “The way my head is pounding, I’m thinking my brain might explode.” Her eyes opened slowly. Eyes the color of Loon Lake in early spring. Misty green-blue. He’d noticed them the day they’d met. Had told himself not to, but he’d been noticing them ever since, anyway.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t. Kane won’t be happy if you die on my watch.”

  “I hope he won’t be happy if I die, period.” She flashed a smile that brought out the deep dimple in her cheek. Pretty. Wholesome. Not at all the way Jessica had been. No sultry allure or boldly painted lips. Rayne was all about subtle color and natural beauty.

  “You remember Kane?”

  “Sure. We spoke several times when I interviewed for my job with his company. I was really excited when he said he wanted to hire me. A new job. A new life,” she mumbled, and he thought she might drift off again.

  “Was that the plan?” In the seven weeks he’d known her, he hadn’t asked why she’d moved from Arizona to Washington. Hadn’t asked a hundred questions that he’d wanted to ask, because asking would have meant interest, and he couldn’t allow himself to be interested again. To fall again.

  Heart.

  Soul.

  Mind.

  He’d done it once.

  Had proven just how little he knew about what it meant to make it work. Failure hadn’t been in his vocabulary, but he’d failed anyway. Hadn’t given enough of himself, spent enough time, done enough to maintain what he’d been so eager to start.

  “The plan? I don’t know if I had one. I just wanted to get away from…”

  “What?”

  “Sometimes a person just needs a fresh start.”

  “I can understand that.” He’d made his own fresh start two years ago. Come back to the place he’d grown up, tried to put the past and all its mistakes behind him.

  “Yeah, well, it looks like I’m getting another fresh start. Maybe you can fill me in on a few things.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her face pale, the bump on her head deep blue and green.

  “Like what?”

  “When did we meet? How did I end up renting an apartment from your mother? Are we just coworkers or are we more?” she asked.

  Straightforward.

  Unapologetic.

  Handling the situation in the same forthright manner she handled clients. He’d admired that, admired a lot of things about Rayne.

  “We’re coworkers. We attend the same church. Your apartment is in my mother’s attic. Kane knew my mother was looking for a tenant, and he knew you were looking for a place to stay. He mentioned it to me.” Chance had seen it as a win-win situation. His mother occupied with a renter who had a baby. Rayne provided with a comfortable home.

  “So, we see each other outside of work sometimes?”

  “Yes.”

  “That explains it, then.”

  “Explains what?”

  “I can’t remember anything after I left Phoenix, but your eyes are familiar.” She blushed, pink coloring her pale cheeks.

  “Like I said, we’re not strangers, but we’re not anything more than coworkers, either.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? I think I’m insulted,” he said, and she smiled, flashing her dimple.

  “It’s nothing personal. I mean, if I were going to date again, I wouldn’t discount you out of hand.”

  “That very…magnanimous of you.”

  “That’s a big word, Chance, and my head is pounding too hard for a witty response. So how about I just say I’m out of the dating game and happy to be, and we leave it at that?”

  “We can do that.”

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes, fell silent, and he let the conversation die.

  She looked pale and fragile, her golden hair matted and stained with blood, but she was in better shape than her totaled car. It had flipped at least once when she ran off the road, and if she hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, she’d probably be dead.

  He frowned, pacing across the room and staring out the window. Streetlights illuminated the parking lot, gleaming off the icy pavement. Not a good night for anyone to be out. Especially not someone who wasn’t used to driving in slick conditions.

  But Rayne had left a client and driven to the airport. Why? It was a question he wanted to ask. One he knew she couldn’t answer. Below the window, someone moved through the parking lot, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the golden glow of the streetlights. Something about the figure’s furtive movements made the hair on the back of Chance’s neck stand on end.

  As a chaplain in the army, he’d been in his share of danger zones. He knew the hair-raising, blood-pulsing feeling of impending trouble.

  Someone was in my room.

  That’s what Rayne had said, and he’d chalked her fear up to head injury and confusion.

  Maybe there was something more to it, though.

  Something more than the cleaning crew or her imagination.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Chance tensed, turning as the door swung open.

  A balding man in his mid-fifties stepped into the room. Lab coat buttoned, stethoscope hanging from his pocket, he
pulled Rayne’s chart from the end of the bed, glancing at it as he greeted Chance. “I’m Dr. Donahue. I’ll be the attending physician while Ms. Sampson is here.”

  “That shouldn’t be too long, Doctor. I’m planning on leaving as soon as you unhook me from this IV,” Rayne said without opening her eyes.

  “How about we see how you’re doing before we talk about getting the IV out or going home?” The doctor flashed a light in Rayne’s eyes, asked a few questions that she could answer, a few that she couldn’t.

  Chance should probably go.

  Probably.

  But he didn’t.

  Being a chaplain had hardwired him to be concerned for the sick and the struggling. Rayne was both.

  That was a good enough reason to stay, but there were other reasons as well.

  He might have spent the better part of two months avoiding her, but he hadn’t been able to ignore Rayne. She’d made a good reputation for herself at work, a good reputation in the community. Chance’s mother adored her. Everyone at Grace Christian Fellowship admired and respected her.

  Chance would be lying if he said he hadn’t been pulled in by her sweet smile and contagious energy. He might be out of the dating game, but he wasn’t blind. So he was staying because he cared.

  There was nothing wrong with that.

  He could care without becoming too involved.

  Sure you can.

  He scowled, pacing back to the window as the doctor continued his examination. Outside, sheets of ice fell from the charcoal sky, pinging off the ground and cars, shimmering on trees and bushes. A shadow shifted at the edge of the lot, merged with another shadow. Two figures standing in the icy downpour at midnight with the wind chill dipping to twenty below?

  Not something any sane person would do, but that didn’t mean anything sinister was going on.

  Someone was in my room.

  Rayne’s words drifted through his mind again, and he couldn’t ignore them or the quicksilver shot of adrenaline that flooded his veins.

  Maybe nothing was going on.

  Probably nothing was.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to check things out.

  He buttoned his coat, pulled on his gloves. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Where are you going?” Rayne asked, her eyes tracking his movements, her face pale as paper as the doctor probed the bump on her head.

  “Just out to the parking lot.”