by Rita Herron
“That’s not what I meant.”
Liam stared her directly in the eye. “Then what did you mean?”
“Just what I said. That he didn’t threaten me.” She sat back and tapped her foot. “Look, I’ve cooperated and told you everything I know. I’m truly sorry for Mrs. Inman’s death, but I don’t have any more information regarding it than I did five years ago.”
Her answer sounded practiced. Defensive. Which raised more questions in Liam’s mind. “Ms. Weiss, do you think Barry Inman started the fire at the Whistler Hospital?”
“I really don’t know.” She pushed away from the table. “Now if that’s all, I need to get back to my patients and my mother.”
Liam gritted his teeth. “Sit down, Ms. Weiss,” he said firmly. “You aren’t going anywhere until you tell us everything you remember about the night of the fire.”
* * *
ALARM BELLS RANG in Peyton’s mind. Did the agent believe she’d seen the person who’d set the fire?
Both men glared at her and she sank onto the cold metal chair. She directed her comment to the sheriff. “I don’t have anything to add from my previous statement.”
Sheriff Maverick shifted. “Indulge us. We need to hear your personal account again.”
She lifted her chin. “Are you questioning everyone else who was there that night?”
The men exchanged furtive looks. “We will if we need to,” the sheriff replied.
“In light of the fact that we found Mr. Inman, we’re reviewing all the statements from witnesses, patients, staff and bystanders,” the agent said. “Sometimes after the passage of time, people recall details they didn’t notice or remember immediately following an incident. We’re hoping that’s the case with you.”
Peyton stifled a reaction. His logic made perfect sense.
“So, tell us exactly what happened that night,” Agent Maverick said. “Starting with the time you reported for work.”
Peyton massaged her temple where a headache was starting to pulse. “I had a twelve-hour shift in the ER, 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. The day was fairly calm, routine patients. Flu, a broken arm, one man presented with stroke symptoms. Just a normal day.”
And her mother was in the hospital being treated for pneumonia. She was receiving IV antibiotics, fluids and breathing treatments.
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary during your shift?” the agent asked. “A disgruntled family member of a patient? Maybe someone wanting drugs that roused your suspicion?”
Peyton wrinkled her brow. “Actually, there was a young man who appeared to be homeless. He was on the list we keep of repeat drug seekers, so we turned him away.”
“A list?” the agent asked.
She nodded. “All hospitals, especially ERs, keep a list of people who repeatedly come in with fake illnesses in an attempt to get prescriptions.”
“Did this guy become belligerent or aggressive?” the sheriff asked.
“Not that I recall,” Peyton said. “Security escorted him out the ER exit. That was it.”
The agent leaned forward. “Do you remember his name?”
“No, I’m afraid not. It would have been in the records though.”
“You mean the ones that burned in that fire?” Sheriff Maverick replied.
Peyton shifted. “Yes.”
“How about Barry Inman?” Special Agent Maverick asked. “Did you see him at the hospital that night?”
Peyton massaged her temple again. “I really don’t recall. Once the fire broke out, it was chaos. People were running and screaming and panicked. Everyone pitched in to help evacuate the building. Firefighters were everywhere—the flames were spreading.”
The agent gave her a pointed stare. “How about on the lawn?”
She closed her eyes and envisioned the scene. She’d been in action mode helping patients outside. Had been desperate to find her mother.
Had Inman been there?
Chapter Three
Peyton gave a small shrug. “I don’t remember seeing Mr. Inman in the hospital or outside that night. But it was so hectic. Everyone was scared. Families looking for loved ones, patients needing help, first responders dashing onto the scene to assist and directing people to get out.” She sighed. “My mother was also in the hospital with pneumonia, so after I helped clear the ER, I was frantic to find her.”
“But you did?” the agent asked.
Peyton’s breath quickened. “One of the doctors was performing CPR when I reached her.” Dr. Butler, the same doctor she’d reported her suspicions to. “He saved her life.”
The other nurses adored him, too. Thought he was a saint in the ER. He’d mentored her, also.
She’d begun to wonder if she’d misread the situation with Inman’s wife, and Dr. Butler was simply trying to protect her from criminal charges by encouraging her silence.
Special Agent Maverick leaned across the table again. “Are you all right, Ms. Weiss?”
She exhaled and pulled herself from the memory. “Yes, it was just a scary night.” Her gaze met his. “I understand that your father died saving others. I’m sorry for your loss.”
The agent’s jaw tightened, and the sheriff released a wary breath. A tense heartbeat passed.
“He did lose his life that night, along with many others,” the agent finally said. “And we are going to get to the bottom of what happened. If there’s anything else you can tell us that might help, we need you to speak up.”
Peyton’s heart squeezed. She wanted to tell him everything. But she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“I wish I could tell you who set that fire, but I honestly don’t know. One of my coworkers, a PA, was seriously injured and still has scars.” Eileen’s battered body taunted her. “She suffered second-degree burns and a falling beam crushed her leg. She underwent physical therapy for months to learn to walk again. She can’t lift patients or do her job now and suffers from PTSD.” Peyton shuddered. She suspected Eileen was addicted to pain pills, too, and had encouraged her husband to seek help.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” the agent said. “Where is she now?”
“She and her husband moved to Asheville. He said they needed a change of scenery.” She understood that. Just driving back through Whistler resurrected her own tumultuous memories.
The sheriff dropped a file onto the desk. “I reviewed my father’s notes on the initial investigation into Inman’s claims. According to Inman’s statement, you were talking to another nurse and implied something was wrong.”
Peyton ground her molars to control her temper. This was not a chat. It was an interrogation. They kept asking the same questions over and over hoping to catch her in a lie.
The sheriff tapped the file. “But you denied making any statement indicating wrongdoing on the part of the staff.” He hesitated, the air tense with his scrutiny.
“That’s correct.”
The agent leaned back in his chair. “Why would he say that if it wasn’t true?”
“As I said before, he was distraught and in shock and desperate to blame someone.”
A skeptical look marred Sheriff Maverick’s face. “Then you stand by your original statement, that you don’t believe the hospital was responsible?”
She had her doubts. Ones she couldn’t share. “I do.” She heaved another breath, her body teeming with anxiety. “Now, can I go? I need to check on my mother. She gets disoriented if I don’t show up at certain times.”
The brothers traded looks again, then Liam stood and adjusted his holster. “Yes, for now. I’ll drive you back.”
She wanted to be anywhere but in the car with the intimidating, handsome federal agent. He made her want to talk, to help him. To make sure justice was served for all the people hurt five years ago.
But confiding in him was impossible, so she forced herself
to remain calm, not confrontational.
She could fall apart later when she was alone.
* * *
LIAM AND JACOB left Peyton in the room alone to stew for a moment while they conferred outside the door.
“What do you think?” Liam asked Jacob.
Jacob muttered a sound of frustration. “I don’t know. Dad made a notation that he suspected she was holding back something. When I questioned her after the fire, she was a wreck. Seemed nervous and jumpy. But then again, everyone who worked at the hospital was upset and a wreck, too.”
“So were the family members who’d lost loved ones,” Liam added. “People were emotional and in shock and trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. She did say her mother almost died that night, too.”
“True. The staff was also defensive. Dodging blame. Some of the families wanted to point fingers at the hospital. Others at individuals who they thought had enemies,” Jacob added. “And then we became sidetracked thinking the fire was set as a diversion for the kidnapping of Cora’s baby.”
“That was a logical assumption,” Liam agreed, remembering the press descending. Their focus had been on the terrified mother who’d just delivered a little girl only to have her ripped away in the midst of the chaos.
Because he was the oldest, Jacob thought he had to take care of him and his brothers, and their mother, and stepped into his father’s shoes as sheriff.
The case of the missing baby had taken priority over Jacob’s own grief at the time. When the case had gone cold, he’d blamed himself.
“Stop beating yourself up over the past, Jacob. You found Cora’s little girl and her kidnapper is in prison where she belongs,” Liam said.
Jacob smiled. “But Cora suffered terribly until we did.”
“She’s happy now and she loves you, bro.” Liam patted his brother’s arm. “And now your family is growing.”
A real smile lit Jacob’s eyes. “I am a lucky man. Another month and my son will be here.” He gave Liam an odd look. “I hope you find someone someday, too. You deserve it, Liam.”
Did he? His last conversation with his father echoed in his head. His father suggested he take a deputy’s position in Whistler just as Jacob had. But Liam had argued, insisted he wanted more than to be a small-town deputy. He wanted to make a difference, work big cases, real investigations.
His father had looked hurt but said he understood. Liam had kicked himself every day since that conversation. He’d made his father feel his work wasn’t big enough, good enough. But his father had put his life on the line to protect the citizens in Whistler and the mountains they called home. He’d also been a good father and a devoted husband.
What could be more important than that?
Liam would give anything to turn back time. To take back the hurtful words. To tell his father how much he loved and admired him. That everything he’d aspired to do was because he wanted to make his father proud.
“Liam?” Jacob murmured. “You okay?”
Liam blinked to banish the painful images from his mind. “Yeah. Maybe once this case is solved and we get justice for Dad, I can think about it.” But not until then. He’d waited too long to see his father’s killer pay to let anything interfere.
“About the origin of the fire,” he said, steering his mind back on track. “Griff and the evidence-response team agreed that the point of origin was near the ER, in one of the storage rooms that held chemical supplies. Which was beside the records room.”
“That’s right.”
A scenario took shape in Liam’s mind. “If Inman was right about negligence in his wife’s death and there was a record of it in her file, perhaps the fire was set to destroy that evidence.”
Jacob made a clucking sound with his tongue. “If Peyton made the mistake and her job was on the line, and she was sole provider for her mother who was ill, maybe she was desperate and set the fire to destroy proof of wrongdoing. Then the fire got out of control.”
Liam tried to reconcile the compassionate nurse her coworkers bragged about with a woman who’d take a risk by doing such a thing. But he couldn’t quite make the scenario fit.
“I considered that. But the director at Golden Gardens sang Peyton’s praises. It’s hard to believe she’d endanger lives like that.”
Jacob worked his mouth from side to side. “She seemed awfully antsy when we questioned her.”
His brother had noticed it, too. Peyton presented a calm front. But the little twinge at the corners of her eyes and the way she didn’t quite make eye contact was a tell.
She was holding something back.
“Look into her financials while I drive her back to her apartment,” Liam said. “Maybe she didn’t set the fire, but she knows something and was paid to keep quiet.”
Jacob nodded agreement. “I’ll see if I can track down the other staff members on duty in the ER the night of Inman’s wife’s death. They didn’t divulge anything to Dad, but if they learn we suspect that case is connected to the fire, someone might decide to talk.”
True. Covering for an accidental mistake with a patient was one thing. But covering for an arsonist who caused multiple deaths might be heinous enough to convince a witness to come forward.
* * *
EARLY AFTERNOON SHADOWS fell across the winding mountain road as Special Agent Maverick drove Peyton back toward Golden Gardens.
With days growing shorter and clouds moving in, the misty fog rolling off the ridges and steep cliffs painted the world a smoky, eerie gray, a reminder leaves were dying, and winter would soon barrel around the corner.
Peyton shifted, knotting her hands in her lap. The FBI agent’s gaze was scrutinizing her every movement. She couldn’t blink without the sense that he was analyzing her and finding her lacking.
She’d never met a more intimidating man.
Or a more ruggedly handsome one. Instead of a suit and badge, he looked like he should be wearing a cowboy hat, tight jeans and boots and riding across the wilderness atop a stallion with the sun slanting off his chiseled face.
Heaven help her. The fact that she’d noticed his good looks was pathetic. Had to be due to the fact that she hadn’t dated in over five years. She’d been afraid to get close to anyone.
Afraid they’d see that she was a liar.
She swallowed hard. She had to maintain her composure for a few more minutes. Then she’d be back in her own place and she could crash in upon herself.
He cleared his throat. “How is your mother’s health?”
The question took her off guard and seemed innocuous enough. Except she had a feeling that everything this man did was calculating and meant to extract information he could use against her.
“She’s seventy-nine so dealing with multiple health issues,” she replied. “RA, a thyroid condition and her memory’s starting to slip.”
“That’s the reason you moved her to Golden Gardens? She needs assisted living?”
Again, she felt as if he was using his interrogation skills on her. “Yes.” She had to keep her answers as honest as possible. Still, she refrained from explaining that the security measures had also been a draw.
“Why did you take a job there instead of another hospital?”
His voice sounded concerned, not accusatory. Was he trying to wear her down by winning her trust? “I enjoy working with elderly patients,” she answered. “There’s a huge need for good medical and memory care for seniors. I also wanted to be close to my mother for as long as she’s around.”
“Do you have siblings who help out or visit?”
Peyton shook her head. She did have a younger sister. The pain from watching the addiction take control of her life until she was living on the streets wrenched at her heart. The realization that Val had sold her body for a fix caused her mother to have a nervous breakdown at one point. Peyton had worked har
d to help her mother recover. But Val’s disappearance from their lives hurt as much as if they’d buried her. Maybe more, because each day they lived with the worry of where she might be, if she was hurt or sick. If she might turn up dead in a ditch or an alley.
But she didn’t like to talk about her sister.
“No, no family, just me. I promised Mama I’d be there for her, and I intend to keep that promise.”
“That’s admirable.”
She cut her eyes toward him, almost believing him. But he was an expert at his job and although he hadn’t arrested her, the Miranda Warning she’d seen on TV crime shows echoed in her head. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...
She jerked her gaze back to the road. She didn’t want to go to prison. Or for him to see that pain in her eyes. Pain she’d learned to live with. Pain she didn’t intend on sharing.
They lapsed into a strained silence as he veered past the turn to the heart of River’s Edge and followed the road leading to Golden Gardens. Nestled in the mountains, away from town, the facility offered privacy and serenity to its residents and patients. Its location and security gate also helped waylay passersby from venturing onto the property.
Her trust in strangers had been shattered five years ago. Not knowing who’d threatened her made her suspicious of every man she met.
Special Agent Maverick stopped at the gate, identified himself and was buzzed through. He followed the narrow road leading to her apartment complex in silence. The white brick building was flanked by giant live oaks and pines with the mountains rising behind.
Ever cautious, she scanned the property and was relieved to see her car still in its place. The fog thickened, enveloping her building in that same smoky gray that gave her a chill.
The agent parked, climbed out and came around to her door, but she’d already stepped from the SUV, anxious to escape his scrutiny.
His dark eyes narrowed as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll walk you to your door.”