Читать книгу Foul Play - Elisabeth Rees - Страница 11

THREE

Cole scrambled over the fence that partitioned Deborah’s yard from her neighbor’s, in pursuit of the man in black. He landed in a child’s sandbox and almost lost his balance as the silky grains slid beneath his feet, but he managed to stay upright, holding his gun close to his shoulder. The yard was small but with plenty of nooks and crannies and overhanging trees.

He stepped carefully out of the sand and stood in the middle of the lawn, turning in circles to scan the area, noting the patio furniture, a large barbecue beneath a tarpaulin and fishing equipment leaning against the fence. He was well used to working under the cover of darkness and his vision had been specially trained to spot movement that others would not detect. His last overseas assignment, the code-named Dark Skies mission in Afghanistan, had taken place under almost total darkness and had honed his skills to such a high extent that he often didn’t need the infrared goggles supplied by the SEALs. Dark Skies had taught him to refine his steely focus, and for this situation it was the best skill he had.

He continued to turn in circles, certain the culprit was still in the yard, but confused as to why there was no sign of his presence. Then it occurred to him. He lifted his head to the branches of a mature sycamore tree in the corner. Hidden among the leafy boughs was the figure of a man, inching his way along a branch that hung over the next yard. The wood drooped with the weight of his body, and his position looked precarious.

Cole raised his gun. “I’d strongly advise you to stay right where you are, sir,” he called. “I can hit a target a lot smaller than you with my eyes closed.”

The man froze, gripping the branch tightly with his arms and legs. The bough continued to bend, creaking loudly.

Suddenly, the yard was flooded with light, and a man’s voice boomed through the night. “Who’s there?” Cole heard the click of a gun’s safety catch, and the voice said, “Drop your weapon!”

Cole could see the home’s occupant in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t take his eyes off the man tucked away in the branches of the sycamore tree. The house owner was wearing a robe tied at his bulging waist and white socks. And he was holding a black handgun out front, using both hands to steady his grip. He looked scared.

“My name is Cole Strachan,” Cole called out, not turning from his position. “I’m a retired navy SEAL. I live on Franklin Street and I’m here because of an attempted break-in at a neighboring house. I have my weapon trained on the suspect, who’s hiding in a tree in your yard.”

The man stepped out onto his deck, continuing to hold his gun defensively. “I don’t know you, mister,” he said. “And I don’t care who you are. I just want you outta my yard.” He called behind him. “Carol, call the police, honey. Right away.”

“Yes,” Cole said with force. “Please call the police. I’ll stay here until they arrive.” He saw the man in the tree inch closer to the edge. The creaking grew louder.

“Stay where you are,” Cole called again, emphasizing each word. The man froze.

Cole felt the tension of the situation mount as the seconds ticked by and the standoff continued. With a gun trained on his back, he knew that firing his weapon would be dangerous and likely to result in him being shot by the petrified owner of the house. Scared people and guns were an explosive combination.

The man in the tree started to move again and the wood gave way with a mighty snap as the branch cracked and splintered beneath the weight. The masked man fell, still clinging to the broken branch, and landed on the other side of the fence. He bellowed as his body smacked hard on the ground. The owner of the house raised his gun into the air and shot a bullet into the sky, sending Cole instinctively diving to the grass. He tasted the soft earth in his mouth and spat on the ground.

“I hear the police sirens,” the man shouted. His voice was wavering. His anxiety level was high, and Cole certainly didn’t want to add to it. The man already had discharged his weapon once and would easily do it again if spooked.

Cole raised his head from the ground, trying to listen for sounds coming from the other side of the fence. He heard the groans of a winded man hauling himself to his feet and running away. He couldn’t believe he was so close to Deborah’s attacker, yet unable to apprehend him. He clenched his jaw in frustration.

“Next time,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll be ready.”

* * *

Deborah watched from her bedroom window while Cole spoke with police officers in her neighbor’s yard. Her pulse was returning to normal as the surge of adrenaline began to wear off. She’d woken up two hours ago to the sound of a key turning in her front door. She’d sat upright in bed, immediately reaching for the card she’d so carefully placed on her nightstand before going to sleep. Cole’s voice on the end of the line had instilled a feeling of reassurance and safety, but she wished she hadn’t needed him to take control of this situation. She didn’t want anything from him, least of all his protection. She’d learned to get by without the love and security he had once offered. And she no longer wanted it.

After first taking her statement, the officers then spoke at length to Cole and her neighbor Mr. Rafferty. They then went to inspect the tree in Mr. Rafferty’s yard, where a large branch had been severed from its trunk. The four men stood together, discussing the incident, while Deborah had chosen to retreat to the safety of her bedroom. She watched Cole and Mr. Rafferty shake hands, and the officers made their way back to their vehicle. She lost sight of the four figures as they walked to the street together. Then Cole reemerged in her backyard, squatting down to inspect the footprints left in the dew on the lawn. They snaked around in circles as if the man had been uncertain which way to go. She reached for a sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, feeling her curls straining to break free from the hood. Despite two nights of poor sleep, she was wide-awake and alert, but she knew that exhaustion would hit like a ton of bricks later on.

She slipped her feet into sneakers and walked down the stairs, taking deep, steadying breaths. Every time she spoke to Cole, her stomach rebelled, refusing to be calm and still. It was maddening, but she was powerless to stop it.

“Hi,” she said, walking out onto the porch.

Cole instantly stopped what he was doing and stood up to give her his full attention.

“Are you okay, Debs?” he asked.

She nodded, but it was a lie. And she reckoned he knew it.

“The guy hasn’t been found, but the police have filed a report,” he said. “The officers said they’ll send extra patrol cars to the area.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But they’re treating it as a minor misdemeanor.”

“I told them about the attack in the parking lot, but they said the exact same thing as Frank—a probable mugging.”

“It’s up to us to prove these incidents are all connected,” Cole said. “And that means you have to let me in a bit more. It’s way too dangerous for you to be here alone, especially now that we know somebody’s been casing the house. We need a better plan.”

Deborah shivered in the freshness of the breaking dawn. Cole wore a blue sweatshirt, spotted with mud stains. His hands were stained with dirt and his hair contained pieces of moss or grass, easily seen against the light red color of the strands.

“You look like you had a fight with a tree,” she said, ignoring his statement.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was something like that.”

“You want some breakfast?” she asked, knowing she should reward Cole for his efforts. “You certainly earned it.”

“Sure,” he said. “Give me a few minutes to finish up here.”

She turned and opened the screen door to go inside.

“Deborah,” he called.

She turned back.

“We need to talk about your safety,” he said gently. “I know you don’t want to face it, but you’re in serious danger. Someone is clearly targeting you, and he won’t go away unless we unmask him.”

She looked at Cole standing on her lawn, hands resting lightly on his hips, his face a perfect expression of concern. He was right. She needed to act decisively.

“I’m going to the hospital today to talk to Frank,” she said firmly. “If he won’t call the police to investigate the possibility of drug tampering in the unit, then I will.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This has gone far enough.”

Cole gave her a broad smile. “I knew you’d find your inner strength,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re still as feisty as ever.”

She drew herself up to her full height. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

* * *

Frank’s face turned pale, then red, then purple. “Absolutely not,” he shouted. “I will not involve the police. We still have no conclusive evidence to suggest that our patients’ drugs have been tampered with. All we have are theories and gut feelings.”

Cole stood shoulder to shoulder with Deborah in the hospital room where Frank had agreed to give them five minutes of his time.

“I chased away an intruder on Deborah’s property last night,” he said. “We think he somehow managed to get a copy of Deborah’s front door key, but the chain prevented him gaining full access. Now, why do you think someone went to the trouble of cloning Deborah’s door key in order to get into her house?”

Frank was stunned into silence. He looked at Deborah. “I’m sorry to hear about this, Deborah. Do you know how they were able to copy your key?”

“I figure that someone took it from my locker at the hospital and made a copy before I realized it was gone,” she said. A slight tremor shook her body at the thought of a stranger rifling through her belongings, or even worse, someone she knew.

“And have the locks been changed?” Frank asked.

“I did it this morning,” Cole said. “The old key is now useless.”

“But we don’t know that this incident is related to the hospital,” Frank said. “It could just be an opportunist or a random thief.”

“Oh, come on, Frank,” Cole said as his patience wore thin. “You know that Deborah was attacked by a man in the underground parking lot, as well. What else needs to happen before you wake up and smell the coffee? Deborah is the one person in the pediatric unit who’s pushing hard for an investigation into the abnormal amount of kidney failures. The fact that she’s now been targeted in three separate incidents isn’t a coincidence. It’s a campaign to silence her.”

Frank fell quiet for a while, rubbing his hand over his thinning hair. “A run of bad luck doesn’t necessarily add up to a campaign,” he replied. “Although this sounds like a rather far-fetched theory, I’ll consider contacting the police to ask for their advice.”

“Please, Frank,” Deborah said. “We really need your cooperation on this. I don’t want to go against your wishes, but I will make my own complaint if I have to.”

“I said I’ll consider it,” he repeated. “Although it may reassure you to know that we’ve had no more renal cases in the last twenty-four hours, and five of the children who’ve fallen ill are recovering well.”

“But a twelve-year-old boy now requires a transplant, isn’t that right?” Deborah challenged.

Frank nodded his head. “Dr. Cortas has put that boy on the top of the transplant list. As soon as a suitable kidney becomes available, the operation will go ahead.”

Cole decided now was the perfect time to learn more about the medical staff at the unit. “What can you tell me about Dr. Cortas, Frank? He’s new to the hospital, right?”

“That’s correct,” replied Frank. “He came here from Shoreline Medical Center in Chicago just six weeks ago. He’s a gifted and brilliant doctor who is highly regarded by all those who’ve worked with him. We’re very lucky to have him with us.”

“Why did he move from Chicago?” Cole asked. “Was he running from something?”

“As I understand it, Dr. Cortas was simply looking for a new direction rather than escaping a bad one,” Frank said. “His references were excellent.”

“And what about Dr. Warren?” Cole asked. “What is her history?”

“Julie Warren has been at Harborcreek Community Hospital for almost forty years,” Frank said, clearly a little affronted at Cole’s probing. “She’s been a dedicated and loyal doctor throughout her time with us.” He crossed his arms. “If you’re insinuating that our own physicians are responsible for causing the kidney failures of the patients in Pediatrics, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“We’re talking about the lives of small children,” Deborah reminded him. “Cole is being thorough.”

“Yes,” he replied, having the decency to at least look shamefaced. He looked Deborah up and down, as if realizing for the first time that she was wearing scrubs. “Are you working your shift today?”

“I am,” she confirmed. “I want to be here helping rather than stuck at home worrying.”

“Well, at least that’s one thing we can agree on,” Frank said, heading to the door to leave. “You’re a good nurse, Deborah, and the hospital always needs your expertise.”

As soon as he was gone, Cole took Deborah by the shoulders and turned her to him. She flinched under his touch and he was reminded of the years that had passed between them.

“Let’s be very guarded today,” he said. “I’ll be here helping with the security upgrades. If we keep our ears to the ground, we might hear something vital. Keep an eye on Dr. Cortas in particular. He looks pretty agitated to me.”

“He did look like a rabbit caught in headlights when we walked in together this morning,” Deborah agreed. “But he must be under an incredible amount of pressure. It’s bound to have an effect.”

“That’s what I love about you, Debs,” he said with a small smile. “You’re always willing to see the goodness in people.”

Cole realized what he had said. “I mean...that’s what I like about you,” he said, feeling the need to backtrack.

Deborah gave a deep sigh. “We may as well get over the fact that this is going to be awkward. You and I have a history that we can’t change. I’m willing to try to put the past behind us for the sake of the kids.”

Cole nodded in agreement. He was glad that she seemed to be softening a little toward him. “I know our history is complicated,” he said. “And I also know that my presence here is hard for you, but I want to try to make things better between us. I want to make amends.”

“Cole,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “Are you asking for my forgiveness?”

He returned her gaze. “Would you give it to me if I asked for it?”

She didn’t even need to think about it. “Of course. What kind of person would I be if I freely take God’s forgiveness and then withhold it from others?”

He smiled. Her Christian beliefs were obviously still as strong as they had been in high school. It had marked her as different and gotten her teased often, but she’d always accepted the teasing with good humor and invited people to ask questions rather than mock something they didn’t understand. He’d never once seen her lose her temper or become offended, and it was her strength of belief that had drawn him toward God. He only wished he’d had enough faith to appreciate the difference that a good, strong woman can make to a man’s life. Cole could overpower somebody with his bare hands, but he could never understand the kind of quiet power Deborah exuded when she simply sat in silence. Her power went beyond the physical, and it matched his in every way.

“Thank you, Deborah,” he said. “Your forgiveness means a lot.”

“Forgiveness doesn’t erase the past, though,” she continued. “I wish I could just instantly forget how bad I felt when you ended our relationship.” She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point. “But I try not to judge you for it, and I don’t want you to suffer because of it. I want you to be happy.”

“The ironic thing is that I didn’t realize how happy I was with you until I ended things,” he said with a dry smile. “I was too young and stupid to understand that twenty-year-old rookie navy recruits aren’t the best source of relationship advice. By the time I plucked up the courage to beg you to take me back, it was too late.”

She knitted her eyebrows together. “What are you talking about? You never asked me to take you back.”

He dropped his head. He had never intended to tell her these things. It wouldn’t change the way it had turned out. But once he started, he found he couldn’t stop the words from coming.

“Three years after I broke up with you, I came back to Harborcreek with the intention of asking you all over again to marry me. I’d just successfully completed the SEAL training program and I’d grown up a lot during that time.” He took a deep breath, noticing the look of pure astonishment on Deborah’s face. “I went to your folks’ house to find you, but your dad told me you’d recently gotten engaged to a guy called Brad. He told me to leave you alone, and to let you get on with your life. I went back to Virginia and tried to forget you. After another couple of years, I married the wrong woman, and the rest is history.”

Deborah let out a quick breath and stood openmouthed for what seemed like an eternity. “I got engaged to Brad two years after we split up, but I still wasn’t over you. Thankfully, I broke it off before I made the biggest mistake of my life.” She put her hands over her face. “Oh, Cole, if only I’d known you’d come back for me. I had no idea. My dad never mentioned it.”

“He thought he was doing the right thing,” Cole said. “Don’t blame him.”

“I don’t,” she said. “But things could’ve been so much different.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t shrink away. “Things are as they’re meant to be,” he said. “That’s what I believe.”

She smiled. It looked forced and unnatural. “You and I were clearly never meant to be,” she said. “Dad probably did me a favor in sending you away. There was too much water under the bridge to go back to what we had.”

He nodded mutely, silently agreeing.

An air of sadness had descended over the room and Deborah shook her mane of hair, snapping herself back to the present. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs,” she said, smoothing down her scrubs. “There are sick children who need us to be vigilant on their behalf. That’s more important than anything else right now.”

He was glad the conversation was over. His chest hurt with the pain of memories. “Keep yourself visible at all times,” he said. “If you feel threatened, call out and I’ll come find you.”

She turned and opened the door. “I hope that won’t be necessary.”

“Will you promise you’ll ask me for help if you need it?”

She waited a second before answering. “Yes.”