Читать книгу Covert Christmas - Hope White - Страница 12
Оглавление“Can I help you?” a nurse asked Bree from the corner of the room.
“A man was brought in, thirties, dark hair, blue eyes, slight beard.”
“Mr. Smith?”
“Yes, where is he?”
“They moved him.”
“Bree, what are you doing?” Aiden said, following her into the examining area.
She turned to him. “Is Chief Washburn still here?”
“Yes, he’s—”
“Go tell him I just saw one of the shooters.”
“He’s here? Are you sure?” Aiden’s face reddened.
“Yes, go.”
Bree turned back to the nurse and focused on speaking as calmly as possible as she fought the panic building in her chest. “Mr. Smith’s in danger. You need to tell the police where he’s been moved so they can protect him.”
“Sure, okay, let me check the computer.” She went to a terminal and tapped on the keyboard.
“Did anyone else ask about him?” Bree pressed.
“I don’t think so, but I just got here.”
Chief Washburn rushed into the examining area. “Where did you see him?”
“He passed me in the hallway just now,” Bree said.
“Description?”
“Black jacket, maroon shirt. It was the older one, in his sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a blue baseball cap with a red C on it.” Bree shook her head in frustration. “I smiled at him because I didn’t realize who he was at first.”
“That’s a good thing,” the chief said. “He won’t know we’re onto him, and he won’t suspect that you recognized him.”
The chief spoke into the radio on his shoulder, giving instructions to his officers. He glanced at the nurse, “Room number?”
“Still checking.”
“Are you done with my sister, Chief, because I’d like to take her home,” Aiden said.
“I can’t leave,” she said.
“Breanna—”
“They moved him to room 214 on the second floor.” The nurse interrupted Aiden.
“Closest stairs?” the chief said.
“Around the corner on the left,” the nurse said.
Bree started to go with him, but the chief blocked her. “Please stay with your family where it’s safe.”
“I have to make sure he’s okay.”
“That’s our job.” He nodded at Aiden. “Take her to the waiting area, but don’t leave the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief spoke orders into his radio as he rushed out of the examining area. The doors closed behind him and Bree fingered her necklace.
“Hey,” Aiden said.
She glanced at him.
“Mom’s freaking out. You should probably...” He motioned toward the waiting area.
With a nod, she went to the door and pushed it open, facing her family and friends. Mom rushed to her and offered a loving hug, holding on as if she feared Bree might disappear. Understandable given Bree’s history. It had been almost two years since she had abruptly packed up and moved to the city on a quest for more excitement in her life. She had learned the hard way that excitement was overrated.
“I’m okay, Mom.” Bree broke the hug and squeezed Mom’s hands. “Really, I’m good.”
As the rest of the group started firing off questions, Bree put up her hand to silence them.
“I appreciate your support, especially you guys.” She nodded at the SAR K9 team members who’d come to the hospital: Grace, Trevor, Christopher and Luke.
“Bree, what happened?” Bree’s best friend, Billie, asked with worry in her eyes.
As Bree described the events of the past few hours, she watched her family and friends’ expressions change from disbelief to shock to concern.
“She did a brave thing,” Trevor offered.
“A potentially deadly brave thing,” Aiden said.
Tears welling in her eyes, Mom studied her daughter like she’d never seen her before.
Billie gave Bree a hug. “Quinn and I are headed to California on business tomorrow, but I think I should stay and keep you company.”
“No, don’t you dare stay back on my account. I’m fine.”
“That’s debatable,” Aiden muttered.
“What do you mean?” Mom said.
Aiden narrowed his eyes at Bree, probably expecting her to confess she’d developed an unhealthy and inappropriate connection to a stranger with a gunshot wound.
“I’m okay,” Bree confirmed. “No injuries.”
“Good, then we can go home,” Mom said, reaching out to take her hand.
“I can’t leave the hospital,” Bree said.
“Why not?” Mom asked.
“Here we go,” Aiden muttered.
“Chief Washburn asked me to stay, and even if he hadn’t, I want to be here for Mr. Smith when he wakes up.”
“Breanna—”
“Mom, he has no one, no friends, no family here at the hospital. He doesn’t even remember who he is. I was able to comfort him and he needs me.”
“You don’t even know him,” Aiden snapped.
“That doesn’t make his pain any less real,” Bree countered.
“This isn’t your responsibility.”
“No one should be so scared and alone.”
“Are we still talking about that guy or you?” Aiden accused.
“Aiden, that’s enough,” Mom said.
He planted his hands on his hips and glanced at the floor, shaking his head.
“Breanna is right. The stranger has no one.” Mom scanned the group of friends surrounding them. “We have the wonder of love and friendship.” Mom cracked a proud, gentle smile at Bree. “And the Lord would want us to share our gift.”
* * *
Surrounded by gray, floating in a mass of nothingness, he couldn’t be sure he heard the voice. Where was he again?
I’m going to kill you, slowly, painfully.
An inferno of panic exploded in his chest, the pressure causing him to gasp for air. He wanted to call out but could barely stay focused, much less shout for someone to help him.
I’ll beat you until you give it up, the voice threatened.
He struggled to form words, willing his vocal cords to kick into gear. If only he could get his mind to grab on to something other than the paralyzing anxiety coursing through him.
Then I’ll smother you with a pillow.
“Can I help you?” a woman’s voice said.
The blonde woman? Right, because he’d made her promise to stay close. No, please God, this couldn’t be her. If the man threatened to suffocate him with a pillow he’d surely have no problem hurting the woman.
The woman? Bree. That was her name.
“Bree,” he gasped, remembering her beautiful green eyes, her grounding smile.
A hand gripped his fingers and squeezed. “I’m here.”
No, she shouldn’t be here. His attacker was close, in the room, poised to smother and kill him. Which put Bree in the way because she was tending to him, holding his hand. He tried to pull away, wanting to let her go so she’d be safe.
“What is it?” she said.
He opened his eyes and she came into focus, her sparkling emerald eyes and heart-shaped face framed with golden hair.
“Danger,” he rasped.
“It’s okay. There’s no danger.”
“He said...was going to...kill me.”
“No one’s here but me.” She glanced above him. “And the nurse.”
He shifted his head to the side and spotted a brown-haired nurse fiddling with a machine beside his bed. She smiled down at him.
“See, you’re A-okay,” Bree said.
He turned back to Bree. “He was here.”
“In your room?”
He nodded.
She exchanged a glance with the nurse.
“I’ll go get the officer,” the nurse said.
He didn’t take his eyes off Bree. “Officer?”
“A police officer was assigned to your room last night because I saw one of the shooters.”
“In my room? You were here when he...?” His voice cracked before he could finish.
“It’s okay.” She stroked his arm with one hand while still holding onto him with her other. “He passed me in the hallway, that’s all.” She offered a tender smile. “Are you sure you saw him in here?”
“I heard him.”
“He threatened you?” she said.
He nodded.
“I’m so sorry.” She sighed. “That must have been terrifying.”
Not as terrifying as the thought of the guy hurting Bree.
He was suffering a major head injury all right. Why else would he be more concerned with this woman’s well-being than his mission? His mission, which was what again? He couldn’t remember. He wasn’t even sure how he’d ended up in the hospital.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, as if she sensed his anxiety.
“I don’t remember how I got here or, sorry, but I don’t remember how I know you.”
“You don’t remember being shot?”
He shook his head.
“Do you remember your name?”
“Scott.”
“Nice to meet you, Scott,” she said with a relieved smile.
He wondered why she cared so much about him.
A police officer marched up to his bedside. “Ma’am, I should be asking the questions.”
“Of course, sorry.” She didn’t move, still clinging to Scott’s hand.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” the officer said, and motioned for her to leave.
“I don’t, go ahead and ask your questions.”
The cop narrowed his eyes at her in frustration. “Breanna.”
“Ryan,” she challenged back.
The cop shook his head, figuring he’d lost this round, and refocused on Scott.
“Sir, I’m Officer McBride with the Echo Mountain P.D. I’ve been assigned to keep you in protective custody tonight. Would you mind answering some questions to help us with the investigation?”
“Very professional, A plus,” Bree teased.
Officer McBride glared at her.
“Sure,” Scott said, trying to shift up in bed.
Bree released his hand and adjusted his pillow behind his back. When she sat back down, he automatically reached for her hand, he wasn’t sure why, and she gave it willingly. That got another narrowing of eyes from Officer McBride.
“Let’s start with your name,” the cop asked, pulling out a small notebook.
“Scott, Scott...” He hesitated. A voice in his head warned that sharing his last name would put him in more danger. “I don’t know, Scott something.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-one.”
“Your occupation?”
“I’m...” He wracked his brain, searching for work or even family-related memories. “I’m a cop,” he said, but it didn’t feel right. “I think.”
“You’re not sure?”
“No sir.”
“Where do you live?”
“A big city. Detroit? Chicago?”
“What brought you to Echo Mountain?”
“I needed to...”
They would die. He needed to save them.
“I don’t remember.” He closed his eyes.
He felt Bree squeeze his hand in a supportive gesture, but he couldn’t look at her without feeling the shame of failure. Was she one of the people who would die because he couldn’t see this through to the end?
“Scott?” the cop said.
He opened his eyes.
“What do you remember?”
An image flashed across his mind of a teenager splayed on the ground clinging to a flashlight.
“I don’t...” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Anything could help.”
“It’s all jumbled.”
“Do you remember being chased in the mountains?”
“I think so.”
He remembered being chased but couldn’t be sure if it was a recent memory or a distant one.
“Why do you think those men were chasing you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t have any identification on you. Did they take it?”
“I guess.”
“You sustained trauma to the torso area. Do you remember them assaulting you?”
“I...” He caught glimpses, flashes of images.
“Scott, why did they shoot you?”
“Enough, Ryan,” Bree snapped. “You’re upsetting him.”
“It’s my job to get answers, Breanna.”
“Well, he’s obviously not up to giving you answers, so back off.”
“I’m calling the chief.” He turned and walked out.
“You do that,” she muttered.
It was like they were ten-year-olds fighting over the last peanut butter cookie. A rush of memories filled his thoughts. Scott cracked a smile. They reminded him of he and Emily when they were kids, always competing with one another.
“What’s so funny?” she challenged.
“You guys remind me of me and my sister.”
“Hey, you remembered something, that’s great.”
“Yeah, memories from twenty years ago,” he said. “So what’s the deal with you and the cop?”
“Ryan practically grew up at our house, so he’s more like a brother than a cousin. And one thing I do not need is another overly protective brother-type in my life.”
“It’s not their fault.”
She cocked her head in question.
“There’s something about you that makes us want to take care of you.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. I’ve taken karate and carry a wicked can of pepper spray in my bag, police grade.” She cocked her chin.
Yet he sensed trepidation behind her confident words.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“Sure.”
“Why are you here?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No, of course not. I’m just trying to figure out how I got so lucky.”
“You were shot, sustained a concussion and bruised ribs. What’s so lucky about that?”
“The fact that a beautiful woman is sitting beside my bed.”
She blushed and glanced at their hands. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Sorry, it was meant to be a compliment.” Scott didn’t remember a lot, but he knew that most women appreciated compliments.
Wasn’t it obvious Bree wasn’t “most” women?
“How’s Mr. Smith?” a doctor said, coming into the room.
“Actually, he remembered his name,” Bree offered.
“Excellent.” The doctor extended his hand to Bree. “I’m Dr. Vann and you are who, his girlfriend?”
“No.” She blushed again. “Just a friend.”
She looked even more adorable when she blushed. Scott’s chest ached with wanting something he could never have—a gentle, nurturing woman like Bree in his life.
“Let’s take a look.” Dr. Vann flashed a penlight in Scott’s eyes and examined his head wound. “Head injuries are tricky. I suspect you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia, a condition where a patient forgets the events preceding and immediately following the head injury. The severity of the injury will affect how far back you can remember. Do you recall what happened leading up to your injury?” The doctor jotted something on a clipboard.
“No, sir,” Scott answered.
“What is the last thing you do remember?”
A memory sparked in his mind of he and his partner, Joe, interviewing a witness. “I remember a case I was working on.”
“And when was that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you know why you’re in the hospital?” the doctor asked.
“Someone shot me.”
“So, you remember the shooting?”
“Not really.”
Dr. Vann glanced at Scott.
“I told him what happened,” Bree said.
“We should probably let him remember on his own,” the doctor said.
“Oh, okay, sorry.”
Scott did not want her feeling badly because of him and he knew the sooner he got out of here and away from Bree, the safer she’d be. “How long do I have to stay in the hospital?”
“Overnight to keep an eye on the head injury.” Dr. Vann glanced at a pager on his belt. “I’ll check in later. The best thing for the patient is rest.” The doctor nodded at Bree and left the room.
A phone vibrated in Bree’s pocket and she pulled it out, glanced at the text and frowned.
“You need to go,” Scott said. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not critical. It’s my brother pulling his boss card to get me away from,” she hesitated, “the hospital.”
“You mean away from me?” He cracked a half smile.
“Pretty much. Don’t take it personally. The perks of having an overprotective family.”
“Sounds nice.” And it did, especially since he’d grown up in a single parent household with a mom who had to work two jobs to support Scott and his sister. There had been no extended family, no protective adults to keep an eye on Scott and Emily.
He suddenly grew tired and couldn’t hold back a yawn.
“I should let you sleep,” she said.
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t let go of her hand. His eyes drifted shut and his mind wandered, his imagination landing on a peaceful, majestic view of a valley from the top of a mountain.
And beside him stood the adorable Breanna with the enchanting smile.
* * *
Bree decided to spend the night at the hospital. Her family and friends followed Mom’s lead and supported Bree’s decision to help the stranger. Once the police determined the gunman was no longer in the hospital, Bree sent everyone home while she hovered at Scott’s bedside. She was even able to convince Aiden to feed and walk Bree’s dog, Fiona, but not without a lecture.
At first Bree wasn’t sure hospital staff would let her hang out all night, but Chief Washburn said it was okay and left 24-hour police protection outside Scott’s room. Bree felt safe and was where she needed to be—beside Scott’s bed.
When they’d come in to check his vitals he’d wake up with a panicked look, asking where he was and what had happened. Bree would tell him he was safe, everything was okay, and he’d drift back to sleep.
But morning came and Aiden demanded she show up at work by noon or find another job. It was an empty threat, of course, but she respected his position and did as ordered, leaving Scott alone. She hoped he’d sleep most of the day to give his body a chance to heal.
She didn’t like being away from Scott, but couldn’t rationalize blowing off an entire day of work to babysit a grown man, a stranger. Still, when she thought about the vulnerable look on his face she knew she’d get back to the hospital. She only wished it was earlier than eight in the evening.
Thanks to big brother Aiden, she had extra holiday lights to string along the split rail fence bordering Resort Drive. No surprise that he’d told the other part-timers to go home at three because he was watching his payroll numbers.
Truth was, he was doing his best to keep her busy and away from the hospital. Since Aiden was tied up with a guest when it was time for her to leave, she avoided lecture number seven, or was it seventeen?
Pulling into the hospital lot, she parked near an overhead light and glanced out her window before getting out of the car. She hoped tonight’s staff knew she was on the list of people allowed to come by after visiting hours.
As she marched across the lot, she started to wonder if everyone was justified in worrying about her attachment to Scott. She didn’t have the best track record with romantic relationships; make that a dismal track record.
But this wasn’t about romance, it was about helping someone in need, a man she felt a visceral connection to when she looked into his wary eyes.
She rode the elevator to the second floor and when she got out she noticed the absence of a police officer outside of Scott’s room. She fought the panic ringing in her ears. Perhaps Scott had remembered something and the officer on duty was in his room taking his statement.
Her pulse quickened as she stepped into the doorway. “Scott?”
The bed was empty.
“Can I help you?” a nurse said coming down the hall.
“Scott’s gone” was all Bree could get out.
“Are you a relative?”
“Where is he?”
“A police officer took him away.”
“Took him where?”
“I’m assuming to lockup. He was arrested.”
