Читать книгу Bride for a Single Dad - Laura Iding - Страница 10

ALEC’S stomach clenched as he and Dr. Jillian Davis stared at the individually wrapped percocet tablets lying across the palm of his hand. He’d pulled these out of the sixteen-year-old John Doe’s pocket, but for all he knew the kid had been selling them on the street to other kids. Younger ones. He’d found the young victims in Barclay Park after all. The idea of a child, like his six-year-old daughter Shelby, taking drugs of any kind made him feel sick.

“We can’t discuss this here,” Jillian said in a low tone. “Give me a minute to check on the status of our patients in the arena and then we can meet in my office.”

Alec gave a tight nod, trying to remain calm. Thoughts of anything happening to Shelby haunted him. He’d only known about his daughter for the past year, when Shelby’s mother had died and left a letter granting him custody. If he had known about Shelby sooner he would have been a part of her life from the beginning. Still, he was more than grateful he had his daughter now. Shelby had changed him for the better. He was more relaxed now, less intense.

Less lonely.

He and his daughter—the words still gave him a tiny thrill—had grown close over this past year. Seeing kids as victims was doubly hard now. He knew his heightened awareness was due to Shelby. He couldn’t imagine anything happening to his daughter.

Shelby was safe for today, though, in his sister Alaina’s care. Alaina was the sensible sibling in the family. Not the wild Monroe, like he had once been. He trusted his older sister with his life.

Shelby was his life.

Swallowing hard, he closed his hand over the individually wrapped pills and followed Jillian from the trauma room into the arena. He slid the evidence into his pocket and stood off to the side. To take his mind off the seriousness of the situation, he concentrated on watching the pretty doctor in action.

Jillian looked over a clipboard with one of the nurses, no doubt to review each patient’s planned disposition. Alec knew more than he wanted to about how emergency departments functioned. His brother Adam was a doctor and his younger sister Abby was a nurse, and at one point he’d been trained as a medic in the army with thoughts of following a similar career path.

Unfortunately, healing wasn’t his area of expertise.

Maybe that wasn’t entirely true, he amended. He’d helped to heal Shelby’s loss. When she’d first come to live with him she’d cried all the time, the sound of her quiet sobs breaking his heart. Now she hugged him easily and called him “Daddy” without hesitation.

A reluctant smile quirked the edge of his lips.

Maybe Shelby had helped heal him, too.

He fingered the pills in his pocket. Had the fight between the two teenagers been over the drugs? Or a girl? Or something else entirely?

He didn’t know. But either way he couldn’t do anything to bring the kid back, much as he wished he could. Shoving thoughts of the dead boy aside, his gaze followed Jillian’s lithe figure as she entered a patient’s room.

A few moments later she emerged from behind the curtain and returned to the nurses’ station. His gaze lingered on her, the cute way her forehead puckered in a slight frown as she reviewed a patient’s chart. Her serious expression made him wish he could make her laugh. Her hair, a rich chestnut color, was pulled back into a curly ponytail and he wondered how she’d look with her hair down, framing her face.

When he’d been brought into Trinity’s ED after one of his suspects had tried to slice him with a knife, he’d been thankful the pretty doctor had been assigned to take care of him. As she’d tended his wound he’d been hyper-aware of her dainty yet capable hands on his skin. For the first time since Shelby had come to live with him, he’d considered asking a woman out.

Luckily, it had been a fleeting thought. His life was complicated enough, he didn’t need to add another element that might disrupt Shelby’s newfound peace.

He straightened from the wall when Jillian walked toward him. Despite his mini-lecture to himself, his body responded when he caught a whiff of her scent. “Alec? My office is this way.”

She’d remembered his name. Stupid to be flattered, but he was. She led him to a tiny, compact office without so much as an outside window and waved him toward a seat as she settled in behind the modest desk.

Her medical school diplomas were framed and hung in prominent display on the wall behind her head. The reality of her extensive education punched him in the gut. Pretty as she may be, it was obvious Dr. Jillian Davis existed in a world very different from his.

“Could I see those percocets again?” Jillian asked. “I need to check the lot number.”

He dug into his pocket and drew out the evidence. He tossed them onto her desk. “Why? So you can match the lot number to that of the drugs missing from this hospital?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure if hospital administration would approve of me discussing the details with you,” Jillian admitted. She turned over the package and jotted a series of numbers on a pad of paper. “I think it’s best if I get you in touch with our risk management department.”

Alec frowned. He would have preferred to work with Jillian directly. In his experience, once hospital administrators were involved, the lines of communication became far less direct.

He leaned forward, pinning Jillian with a sharp gaze. “Dr. Davis, I really don’t have time to mess around with your hospital administration. First of all, it’s past seven on a Friday night and I’m sure most of the administrative staff has already gone home. If you make me wait until Monday, the trail will be cold. A sixteen-year-old kid died after exchanging gunfire with another, who is right now undergoing surgery. I need to know if these drugs cost this boy his life. Or, even worse, if other innocent kids are in danger.”

She worried her lower lip between her teeth and a shot of desire stirred his groin. Dammit, he needed to stop thinking of the pretty doctor as an attractive woman. He had more important issues to deal with than his sudden awareness of a member of the opposite sex.

Not just any member of the opposite sex. Jillian was a doctor, with years of education and training behind her. He’d admired the way she’d managed the situation in the trauma room, taking charge, confronting the apathy of the surgeon on call.

Which reminded him of the moment when the forceps had dropped from her fingers. Jillian hadn’t seemed like the clumsy type. He wasn’t a doctor, but from where he stood it had looked as if she’d suddenly lost feeling in her fingers.

“There’s six tablets here,” Jillian murmured as she stared down at the percocets. “A week ago, there were twelve tablets of percocets missing from the narcotic cabinet.”

“Twelve?” Alec forced his attention to the facts she was giving him. “So it’s not just a couple of pills here and there?”

Jillian shook her head. “No. The timeframe from when the drugs were restocked until the time they were noticed as missing was almost three hours. At first the nurses thought maybe the pharmacy tech who stocked the drawer had miscounted, but when they questioned him, he was adamant that he hadn’t made a mistake. The nurse who signed off on the tech’s stocking of the drawer also verified the medication was there. A few people went into the machine for medication, but then cancelled their transaction. Management thinks maybe one of those nurses went in to take the pills and didn’t record it, but the nurses swore they didn’t take them and there’s no proof one of them did. For now they’re downloading information from the computer every day, watching for more trends.”

“So the narcotics are locked in a computerized system?” he asked, grabbing that tidbit of information.

“Yes.”

Interesting. He would have loved to see the machine for himself, but first things first. He took a small notebook out of his pocket. “Which nurses canceled their transactions?”

She hesitated. “I really think you should get the information from hospital administration. For all we know, someone may have gotten the password of one of these nurses. They could be innocent.”

“Well, then, I’ll take a list of all the nurses who were working that day.”

Jillian looked apologetic. “The ED nurse manager, Rose Jenkins, gathered all the information together for the risk management department. I don’t have the list, you’ll have to get it from her.” His concern must have shown on her face, because she quickly added, “I’d like to help you, but I really need clearance from hospital administration. There’s usually someone on call.” His nerves tingled when her fingertips brushed against his in the process of handing the percocets back to him. “I just can’t believe this is a coincidence.”

No, he didn’t believe in coincidences either. As Jillian toyed with her pen, his two-way radio let out a squawk. His partner was no doubt trying to figure out what had happened to him.

He spoke quietly into the microphone and then stood. Jillian—no, Dr. Davis, he quickly amended—glanced up at him. “You need to go?”

“I’m afraid so.” He didn’t bother to hide the pang of regret. “Would you mind if I called you tomorrow? Are you working?”

“I’m not working but you can always reach me on my pager, I wear it twenty-four seven.” Jillian rose to her feet and handed him a slim, white business card. “Give me a few hours tomorrow morning to page the administrator on call. I’ll do my best to help you.”

“Great.” He stared at the number on the embossed card, understanding her commitment to her job was as deeply ingrained as his. Was she married? Did she have children, too? For some reason, and not just her ringless fingers, he thought not. “Thanks again, Dr. Davis.” He moved toward the door.

“Alec?” The husky way she said his name sent goose-bumps down his arms.

“Yes?” He turned toward her, steeling himself against the surge of awareness.

“Please, call me Jillian.” Her smile held a note of uncertainty.

Despite his efforts to keep his distance, warmth seeped through his chest at her request. “Pretty name, Jillian.” He couldn’t help grinning when she blushed and he slid her card into his breast pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

He flashed her one last smile, before walking outside to meet his partner. The traitorous part of his body was looking forward to seeing Jillian again.

Work-related or not.

* * *

Jillian got up early as she usually did and went for a three-mile run. At least her legs seemed to be working all right, no signs of weakness there. Afterwards, she paged the hospital administrator on call. All she could do then was wait. After she showered and changed, she stood and stared at her closet, desperately searching for something to wear.

When she realized what she was doing, anticipating Alec’s phone call, she turned away from the dressy clothes and grabbed the pair of comfortable jeans paired with a casual short-sleeved T-shirt she usually wore on her days off.

She probably wouldn’t see Alec anyway, unless the hospital administrator called her back soon. Over an hour had passed and she hadn’t gotten a response yet. Likely, she wasn’t going to be able to help him after all.

Disappointed, she hoped Alec wouldn’t be upset with her. Although why she cared if he was upset or not was beyond her. It wasn’t as if she was going to see him on a regular basis or anything. Would she? Her heart gave an expectant leap until she squashed the sensation with common sense. No, of course not. Their paths wouldn’t likely cross again.

The tingling sensation returned to her fingers. She stopped in her tracks and stared accusingly at her right hand. The numbness and tingling came and went without warning. Her initial doctor’s appointment had been almost six weeks ago. The neurology specialist, Dr. Juran, had ordered a broad-spectrum lab panel, and thankfully the results had come back as normal. When her symptoms hadn’t returned right away, she’d put off scheduling her MRI scan. Until Dr. Juran had called, urging her to get it done.

She’d had the MRI yesterday. She’d called to find out the results and had been told they wouldn’t be available until Monday.

Dr. Juran had been noncommittal when she’d asked him about multiple sclerosis. Her mother had suffered from the auto-immune disorder. In the beginning, Angela Davis hadn’t been slowed down much from her disease. Yet over time she had grown weaker and weaker until finally she hadn’t been able to take care of herself. Since Jillian’s father had died of a heart attack when she’d been in her early twenties, Jillian had been left to be the sole provider of care for her mother, until Angela had finally passed away as well.

Jillian caught her lower lip between her teeth. Dr. Juran had explained MS wasn’t hereditary, so she needed to stop making herself crazy by thinking she had the same disease.

With a choppy sigh she flexed her fingers until the sensation passed. Like the last time, the symptoms didn’t bother her for long. Just enough to make her aware something was wrong.

She tore her gaze from her hand. Obsessing over what she might have wasn’t how she wanted to spend the weekend. She was lucky to have two whole days off. She needed to enjoy them.

And she would. Glancing at her watch, she tried to think of the best way to plan her day, considering all the various errands she had to run.

Maybe she should wait to leave until Alec had called.

Wait a minute, since when had she planned her life around a man?

Not since she’d been sixteen and infatuated with Steven Wade, the quarterback of the football team who hadn’t known the bookworm-school-valedictorian had been alive.

With a determined motion, Jillian swept her purse off the counter, intent on heading outside to her car. The pager at her waist vibrated and, despite herself, she grasped the unit eagerly. The number flashing across the display wasn’t the hospital’s.

As she didn’t have a personal life to speak of, the number had to be Alec’s.

Her heart leaped in her chest. She turned and walked into the kitchen, dropping her purse back on the table. Taking a steadying breath, she picked up her phone and dialed the number.

“Alec Monroe,” he said by way of greeting.

“Hi, Alec. This is Jillian, returning your call.” She cursed the butterflies mating in her stomach. What in the world was wrong with her?

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.” His deep voice held a note of warmth, unless she was totally imagining it. “Would you have time to go out for lunch?”

“Lunch?” She stared at the wall calendar and the blank space labeled Saturday, knowing full well she didn’t have other plans. She wanted nothing more than to go, but Alec wouldn’t be happy to hear she couldn’t help him. “I’m sorry, Alec, but I haven’t heard back from anyone in hospital administration yet.”

“That’s all right,” he assured her. “I have something else I want to talk to you about.”

“You do?” Her interest piqued, she quickly gave her consent. “Sure, I’d love to have lunch. Ah, where would you like to meet?”

He hesitated, and she sensed he wanted to argue about meeting at the restaurant, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. “Do you like Italian? We could meet at Giovani’s, say, around eleven-thirty?”

“Giovani’s is perfect. See you then, Alec.”

Jillian hung up the phone, already shaking her head at her own foolishness. She was acting like a goof.

This wasn’t a date. This really wasn’t a date.

Ha! Maybe if she told herself that often enough, she’d figure out a way to believe it.

Alec wanted to ask her about something else. Like what? No doubt he had medical questions of some sort. A few of the men she’d dated in college had seemed to want to know all about various disease processes once they’d known she was a medical student.

She clutched her purse to her chest, feeling the same uncertainty she’d experienced back then, going out on her first date.

The guy had been nice enough, but their relationship hadn’t gone anywhere. In fact, none of the men she’d dated on and off during her college years had evoked deep feelings on her part.

Maybe because none of them had been anything like Alec. Alec was different. He put his life on the line for others, yet oozed masculinity and sensual awareness in a way she’d never experienced before.

She couldn’t deny that his magnetic attraction made her secretly thrilled to be seeing him again.