Suspicious Circumstances

by Rita Herron

  “Nothing about this case has been easy,” Jacob interjected. “We lost our own father in that blaze.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Inman screeched. “You have a personal vendetta against me.”

  Liam forced a calm to his voice, although he was sorely tempted to beat the man into admitting what he’d done. “We just want the truth. And if you didn’t set the fire, you may have information that could help us.”

  Inman looked down at his hands which were cuffed to the scarred metal table. “What makes you think that?”

  Liam’s patience was fading fast. “Because you ran, and you have motive.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m guilty.”

  “Then help us determine who is,” Jacob said. “You filed that lawsuit and were angry when it was thrown out.”

  “Of course, I was mad. My wife died and it was the hospital’s fault.”

  “Tell us what happened,” Liam said. “Why you think they’re to blame?”

  Inman glanced back and forth between him and Jacob, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not like you’re going to believe me. No one did back then.”

  Summoning his self-control, Liam stood, calm, forceful, steel in his eyes. He’d waited five years. He could wait this bastard out until he convinced him to talk. “All right. If you don’t want to cooperate, I’ll escort you to your cell.” He reached for the man’s arm, but Inman jerked away.

  “Wait, all right?” Inman barked.

  Liam cocked one eye at him. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”

  Inman gave a small nod. “My wife was having trouble catching her breath, said she was having chest pains. I thought she was having a heart attack, so I rushed her to the ER.”

  “Go on,” Liam said.

  Inman ran a hand over his face, his voice thickening with emotions. “They took her in right away, said they needed to do tests to figure out the cause. Then one of the nurses gave her some kind of medication, but that only made her worse and she stopped breathing.” Tears filled the man’s eyes. “Then she...just died.”

  Liam considered the man’s story. “Why do you think the hospital was at fault?”

  “Because I heard another nurse question the doctor,” Inman said. “They were whispering, and she looked upset and told him something wasn’t right.”

  Liam tensed and glanced at Jacob who frowned at the man’s statement.

  “You filed a lawsuit based on that?” Liam asked.

  “Not at first. I tried to talk to the doctor about it. But he said I was off base and denied the conversation. Said I was just upset and misunderstood. But later, I saw that nurse talking to another man in scrubs. She looked all nervous-like and hurried away.”

  “She could have simply been upset over losing a patient,” Jacob cut in.

  Inman hesitated. “Look, I know what I heard and saw.” He flexed his fingers on the table. “She knew something but clammed up. That’s when I hired the lawyer. He talked to the doc and staff, but that damn nurse denied the conversation.”

  “Then what happened?” Liam coaxed.

  Inman balled his hands into fists. “The lawyer subpoenaed records, but before he received them, the case was thrown out. I was so upset and insistent that he promised to move forward. He still intended to obtain those records, but then that fire broke out and the records were all destroyed.” Inman glared up at Liam. “I wanted those records to prove I was right,” Inman said bleakly. “So, if anything, that blows my motive to hell.”

  Liam and Jacob exchanged looks, then Liam set a notepad on the table. “Write down the nurse’s name.”

  Surprise flickered in Inman’s eyes. “You believe me?”

  The verdict was still out. “I told you I want the truth. That means running my own investigation.” Liam leaned over, palms on the table, and gave Inman a cold look.

  “But if I find out you’re lying or that you did set that fire, you’re going to rot in prison for the rest of your life.”

  * * *

  PEYTON TOSSED AND TURNED all night. Finally, a little after dawn, she gave up the attempt to sleep, rose, dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt and went for a run.

  As her feet pounded the pavement on the running trail around the lake where residents at Golden Gardens liked to gather, she fought guilt. She’d known Barry Inman had been a person of interest in the hospital fire because of his lawsuit. She’d understood his anger at the staff and the system and sympathized with him.

  The police should have investigated his allegations more thoroughly. Except there had been no evidence.

  She’d kept her suspicions to herself when the sheriff had questioned her about Gloria Inman’s death. If she had spoken up, maybe the truth would have come out, and Barry wouldn’t have harbored such rage.

  The memory of almost losing her mother made her chest tighten. Her mother had sacrificed to help Peyton attend nursing school and supported her financially and emotionally while she’d studied for her boards.

  Peyton had to protect her.

  But guilt weighed on her. Had others died in that fire because of her silence?

  Perspiration trickled down her neck and into her sports bra as she increased her pace and circled the lake. By the time she completed the run, the lawn was filling with residents enjoying breakfast on the patio.

  She jogged back to the small apartment complex where she and some of the other staff members lived, let herself inside and hurried to shower before she had to report for duty. Praying the police discovered the truth about the fire and Inman’s wife’s death without involving her, she scrubbed her body and hair, then rinsed off, climbed from the shower and threw on her robe.

  Just as she set the coffee to brew, her doorbell dinged. She automatically tensed. Who would be at her house this early in the morning? Maybe one of the other nurses?

  She quickly dressed and finger combed her tangled wet hair. Although a feeling of foreboding washed over her as she opened the door. A broad-shouldered dark-haired man stood on her stoop, towering over her. He stared at her with intimidating dark eyes.

  “Peyton Weiss?”

  Peyton swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “Special Agent Liam Maverick.” He flashed his credentials. “I need to ask you some questions about the death of Gloria Inman.”

  Peyton’s stomach seized into a knot. Had her day of reckoning finally arrived?

  Chapter Two

  Liam had done his homework. RN Peyton Weiss was on duty the night Inman’s wife had died.

  It was all in his father’s initial police report.

  “I need you to come with me,” Liam said.

  Surprise and an emotion akin to fear flickered in her sky-blue eyes. “What is this about?”

  “The hospital fire in Whistler five years ago. We made an arrest last night. A man named Barry Inman. You may remember him.”

  She didn’t bother to lie. “Of course. But can’t we just talk here?”

  Liam squared his shoulders. Peyton Weiss was a gorgeous woman. She must have just stepped from the shower, because her hair was a damp, sexy mess.

  He forced that thought at bay. This woman might hold the key to his father’s death. He couldn’t afford to see her as anything but a lead. Or a suspect.

  Although he’d already spoken to her boss, Director Richard Jameson, and he painted the woman as an angel. Claimed she was the kindest, most caring, devoted, conscientious nurse to ever work for Golden Gardens.

  But was that angel a disguise?

  “I’d rather do it at the police station.” The building itself would probably intimidate her. Maybe into talking.

  She tensed, curled her fingers around the edge of the door, then glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. “I have to go to work soon. My patients depend on me for medications.”

  She was stalling. “This is important.
Tell them you’re going to be late.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line at his order, but he didn’t back down. If she refused, he’d haul her into the station in handcuffs.

  “My patients are important,” she said curtly. “Let me call and arrange for one of the other nurses to cover for me.”

  He stepped inside the entryway while she went to retrieve her phone. He glanced around the living room and kitchen. Simple, comfortable furnishings, a color scheme of gray and blue, a book on the table, water glass. Everything appeared neat and orderly.

  “Yes, Joanna,” he heard her say. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. Can you cover for me, and check on Mama?”

  A pause. “Okay, thanks. I’ll text you as soon as I get back.”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek. If she came back. If he sensed she was lying or withholding information, he might throw her in a holding cell for the night just like he had Barry Inman.

  She returned a minute later with her keys, then jammed her phone in her purse.

  He gestured toward the keys. “You won’t need those. I’m driving.”

  She frowned. “But I’ll need my car to get back.”

  “I’ll bring you home after we finish.”

  Alarm seeped into her eyes, but she clamped her lips tight and stepped out the door. He waited while she locked it, then led her to his black SUV. Her gaze skated over the interior of his vehicle as she slid into the passenger seat, and she strapped on her seat belt with shaky hands.

  He pressed the accelerator, ignoring the tiny twinge of guilt he had for intimidating her. Heaven help him. She did look like an angel, and had the voice of one, too.

  But he’d learned the hard way not to allow himself to get distracted by a pretty woman.

  * * *

  PEYTON SAT IN SILENCE as the federal agent drove toward Whistler. His last name was Maverick. The sheriff who’d questioned her regarding the circumstances surrounding Inman’s wife’s death had been a Maverick, one who’d died in the fire.

  His four sons had been devastated. She’d seen their pictures on the news. Seen the pain and anguish. Her heart had ached for them just as it had for Barry.

  The oldest son, Jacob, stepped in as sheriff. He’d been a formidable force when he’d interviewed her about the fire.

  Barry Inman was their prime suspect. Did the police have new evidence against him?

  She twisted her hands together, struggling to remain calm as the mountains and countryside rolled past. The rich golds, reds and oranges on the trees were starting to fade and the ground was littered with brittle, dead leaves.

  Golden Gardens was situated in a small community called River’s Edge about twenty minutes from Whistler. The quaint little town catered to tourists, kayakers, and featured a special Christmas village and festival each year that drew people from across the country.

  With each mile Special Agent Maverick put between her and Golden Gardens though, her anxiety mounted. Just because the FBI wanted to talk to her didn’t mean they knew anything.

  But worry for her mother intensified. She’d given Jo strict instructions that no one was to administer any medication to her except Joanna, and that she was not allowed any strange visitors. Joanna had been curious about her precautions, but Peyton emphasized that her mother had anxiety attacks when encountering unfamiliar people.

  Not that having strange visitors was common. No one came to see her mother except her.

  As they neared Whistler, the haunting memory of that fire hammered at her conscience. Was Inman’s wife’s death related to the fire? Was the fire related to the mistake in the ER?

  Had her silence allowed an arsonist and killer to go free?

  The agent slowed as they passed the new hospital and images of the terrified patients and staff flooded her. She heard their screams at night when she closed her eyes. Sometimes she saw the families hovering over injured ones. And then there were the graves of the people, both patients and staff, who hadn’t survived. The town council had erected a memorial at the new facility to honor the victims.

  They passed a small shopping strip where remnants of a building that had recently been destroyed by fire remained. Joy’s Nail Salon. She’d seen that story on the news a few months ago.

  The other storefronts looked like they’d been given a fresh coat of paint. The town square where she’d once enjoyed picnics with her mother looked empty, probably due to the impending storm. A little café called Mitzi’s had opened up, and The Brew, the coffee shop on the corner, still remained, along with the bookstore.

  Agent Maverick parked in front of the sheriff’s office, then came around and opened the door for her. She felt eyes of locals watching her from across the street and was grateful he hadn’t handcuffed her and brought her in, siren blaring.

  As he led her inside and she faced the sheriff, the past met the present. Sheriff Maverick looked just as tough and intimidating as he had five years ago. Standing side by side, the brothers presented one solid wall of steely resolve and scrutinizing eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

  “Ms. Weiss,” Sheriff Maverick said in clipped acknowledgment.

  She murmured hello, but the word barely came out for the emotions clogging her throat.

  The sheriff gestured toward a set of double doors. “Let’s go back here to talk.”

  Special Agent Maverick gripped her arm and gestured for her to follow his brother. Peyton had the eerie sense that she was walking toward a cell, not a room for a friendly chat. Nerves on edge, she mentally reviewed the statement she’d given the sheriff during her first interview regarding Inman. She had to stick with her story.

  Only then would her mother be safe.

  * * *

  LIAM ESCORTED PEYTON into the interrogation room, battling instincts that she was innocent. She’d certainly seemed worried about her mother when he’d overheard her conversation with her coworker, Joanna.

  He needed to speak to that woman in private. She might know if Peyton was keeping something from the police. The fact that Peyton had moved her mother from Whistler shortly after the fire would raise suspicion, except that the hospital had literally been shut down for months during the initial investigation and rebuilding.

  Staff had been relocated, transferred, quit. People had been traumatized, dealing with personal injuries and losses and PTSD. Mixed reactions from the town confused the situation. Some wanted to nail the person who’d set the fire, others were too in shock to recall details of what happened that night, and some wanted to move on and forget the tragic event entirely.

  Which category did Peyton fall into?

  Liam studied Peyton’s body language as she sank into the chair, looking for signs of guilt or panic as if she was on the run.

  So far, she had no motive herself for setting the fire. Unless she’d set it on principle to prove the hospital was at fault for Inman’s wife’s death. But doing so would have put others at risk, and she would have known that.

  She didn’t fit the profile of that type of perpetrator.

  She fidgeted, then knotted her hands in her lap and pressed her lips into a thin line.

  Liam claimed the chair opposite her, the tension in the room palpable.

  “Now, why did you drag me from my apartment and my patients?” Peyton asked, her tone slightly irritated.

  Liam raised a brow, surprised by her direct approach. “I told you that we arrested Barry Inman last night.”

  She gave a little nod. “I saw it on the news. You think he set that deadly fire because his wife’s lawsuit was thrown out?”

  At least she wasn’t playing dumb. Then again, maybe she wasn’t surprised to see him at her door.

  Because she was hiding something and had expected at some point for the buck to land back at her feet?

  Jacob took the seat beside Liam. “Do you remember talking t
o my father, Sheriff Maverick, five years ago regarding the death of Inman’s wife?”

  Her throat muscles worked as she swallowed. “Of course.” She leaned forward, her expression intense. “I told him everything I knew about the woman’s unfortunate death. Which was nothing.”

  “Tell us again,” Liam said. “Just to refresh our memories.”

  She inhaled a deep breath. “I was in the ER when Gloria Inman was brought in. She was unconscious, struggling to breathe and in cardiac distress. The doctor ordered medication, performed CPR, then brought in the crash cart.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment as if reliving a troubling memory. “I’m sorry to say she...didn’t make it. We tried everything, but sometimes it’s just impossible.”

  “I have the statement you gave Inman’s attorney,” Liam said. “According to Inman, he overheard you tell another nurse that something went wrong. Is that true?”

  She crossed her legs beneath the table. “Mr. Inman was understandably upset, distraught and in shock,” she said, then pressed a hand over her heart. “Often times families of patients lash out when a loved one is ill or in pain, especially if they don’t survive. They think the doctors and nurses are gods and can save everyone.” Her voice warbled. “But we’re not. We’re only human, and sometimes no matter what you do, you lose a patient.”

  Liam’s throat felt thick. He sure as hell understood that. He and his brothers had tried to save their father and failed.

  Jacob cleared his throat. “Ms. Weiss, Barry Inman threatened revenge against the hospital for the alleged negligence. Did he ever personally threaten you?”

  His question seemed to suck the air from Peyton’s lungs. She rubbed her fingers together in a nervous gesture, then dropped them in her lap. “No. He didn’t personally threaten me.”

  Liam arched a brow. The question upset her because she was hiding something. “But you heard him threaten others at the hospital?”