Читать книгу Critical Condition - Sandra Orchard - Страница 13

THREE

Screams—her own screams—barraged Tara’s eardrums. She dove face-first into the front seat of the car and covered her head with her arms.

The window behind her seat shattered, spraying glass over the seats, her clothes, her hair.

“Tara, talk to me!” Zach’s voice shrilled from the vicinity of the floorboard.

She took one hand from her head and felt for her cell phone. If she hadn’t been reaching into the car to grab the phone, that first shot might’ve gone through her heart instead of through her car and out the passenger window.

Her fingers closed around the phone as another shot ripped through the door. Clinging to the phone, she rolled to the floor. Pebbles of glass ground into her legs and arms. “Someone’s shooting at me!”

“Are you okay?”

“Someone’s shooting at me!”

“Where are you?” he demanded.

“In my car.”

“I need an address!”

The sound of screeching tires pierced the air. “I think he’s gone. I hear sirens coming. I’ll just—”

“Tara, stay down.” The urgency in Zach’s voice knocked her back with all the force of a physical push. “Don’t lift your head. Tell me where you are.”

“Sam’s Cove. Thirty-eight Eagle Avenue. It’s ten minutes west of Miller’s Bay.”

“I’m on my way, but stay on the line. Are the sirens getting closer?”

The steady timbre of his voice eased her heart’s frantic pounding. “Yes.”

“Good. Someone must’ve called it in. Stay down until the cops get there.”

She swiped at a tear dripping down her cheek and gasped when her hand came away bloody.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m bleeding.”

“Were you hit?”

“It’s just from the shattered glass, I think. I don’t know....” She felt herself losing control. “Zach, I can’t stay here. What if the shooter comes closer?” Except she couldn’t run for the house and draw gunfire near Suzie.

“Stay calm. Put pressure on the wound. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Just hold on.”

At the sound of feet pounding toward her, she curled deeper into the narrow space beneath the dash.

A hulking figure appeared at the door, blocking the light.

Tara couldn’t help it. She screamed.

“What is it?” Zach asked urgently.

“Tara, it’s me.”

Relief poured through her as she recognized the voice of her mom’s neighbor John Calloway.

The older gentleman gingerly pulled her free of the glass. “Let me get you inside.” He tried to pry the phone from her clenched fist. “The police are on their way. Your daughter is screaming for you, and it’s all your mom can do to hold her.”

Suzie’s cry fired Tara’s muscles. She dropped the phone and ran to the front door, where Mom held her thrashing daughter by the waist. The instant her mother released the child, Suzie tumbled into Tara’s arms.

Mr. Calloway herded them inside the house.

Within seconds, an explosion of colored lights strobed through the window, dancing across the walls of the tiny living room.

Tara collapsed into an armchair, and Suzie burrowed into her arms, sobbing. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.”

Tara’s mom shook her head, but thankfully didn’t voice her disagreement.

“Did you see the shooter?” Mr. Calloway asked.

“No.”

“You must have seen something,” Mom pressed, her voice edging higher.

Tara squeezed Suzie more tightly and gave her mother a not now look.

Mr. Calloway shook his head. “You never saw things like this when I was a kid. It’s the drugs. Seems to be all kids care about these days. The cops say they broke up that local drug ring, but I don’t believe it. Before long we’ll be no different than those American cities you see on TV.”

Her mother slipped from the room and reappeared with a damp facecloth. She gently dabbed at Tara’s face. “The cut doesn’t look too bad. I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” The cloth came away bloody, and Mom’s wary expression belied the calm in her voice.

Through the window, Tara could see an officer unfurling caution tape as another pointed in the direction from which the shots had likely been fired. She shivered. Drive-by shootings weren’t supposed to happen in quiet communities where churches outnumbered bars four to one.

A loud rap sounded at the door. Mr. Calloway let in a uniformed police officer and directed him to Tara.

The officer removed his hat. “I’m Officer Nelson, ma’am. I need to ask you some questions.” His gaze shifted from her to Suzie.

Mom reached for Suzie’s hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Grandma will get you some milk and cookies while your mommy talks to the police officer.”

“No.” Suzie’s arms clamped around Tara’s middle. “I not leave you.”

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Tara lifted her daughter’s chin. “We’re all safe inside the house with the officer here to protect us. I need you to be a big, brave girl. Okay?”

Mom gently cupped Suzie’s shoulders and tugged her away. Mr. Calloway hovered at the door, looking uncertain whether to stay or go.

The officer pulled out a pad and pen. “Did you see who shot at you?”

She wedged her trembling hands under her legs. “No.”

“Has anyone threatened you? A jilted boyfriend maybe?”

“No!” she retorted.

“You having any domestic problems? A business deal go bad?”

Momentarily speechless at the suggestion that she brought the attack on herself, Tara crossed her arms. “No.”

“It’s got to be drugs,” Mr. Calloway muttered. “It’s always about drugs.”

“I’ll take your statement in a few minutes, sir. If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the kitchen, I’d appreciate it.”

Mr. Calloway let out a snort, but did as he was asked.

Officer Nelson flipped over a page of his notepad. “Okay, then tell me everything you can remember—descriptions of any people or cars you saw pass by before the shooting.”

“I didn’t notice anyone. I left work sick.” Thankfully, she didn’t feel too sick anymore. The overload of adrenaline coursing through her system must’ve flushed out whatever had been cramping her stomach. That and the shot Alice had given her. “I brought my daughter here to my mom’s so I could go home and sleep.”

The sound of squealing brakes snapped her attention to the living-room window. A black pickup screeched to a stop at the end of the driveway, nose-to-nose with a cruiser. Zach jumped out.

Her heart kicked at the sight of him plowing past the police tape, a mix of determination and worry creasing his handsome face.

A burly cop yanked him back.

“That’s my friend,” Tara told Officer Nelson. “Can you ask your officers to let him through?”

Nelson opened the front door. “It’s okay, Joe. Give him clearance.”

Zach didn’t wait. He sprinted through the door and to her side. His eyes roamed her entire body, settling on the cut above her left brow. A mixture of anger and relief churned in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, her mouth suddenly too dry to speak, given the turbulent emotions parading across his face. He was a cop. Yet he looked as though his insides had gone through a meat grinder, the utter opposite of Nelson’s detached expression.

The officer bombarded her with a dozen more questions, then took Mr. Calloway outside for his version.

Suzie flew around the corner with Mom on her heels.

Zach scooped Suzie into the air. “Whoa there, kiddo.” He planted her back on her feet, and Suzie’s face lit into the first smile Tara had seen since they’d arrived.

Suzie curled her shoulders forward, scrunching her arms against her chest, looking shy. “Hi, Dak.”

“Hey there, Suzie.” He scooped a dollop of chocolate from her cheek. “Mmm, what have you been eating?”

“Cupcakes.”

“Could I have one?”

She gave him a big nod, and then looked to Tara.

“You can bring us each one, sweetie.” As Suzie raced back into the kitchen on her new mission, Tara said to her mom, “We need a few more minutes. If you can manage it...”

“Who is—?”

“Mom, please. I’ll explain later.”

Mom gave Zach a curious look, but headed back to the kitchen. Tara could always count on her to put Suzie’s welfare first.

“Who knew you were coming here?” Zach asked the moment her mother disappeared.

“No one. I only decided to come as I was leaving the hospital parking lot.”

“Did you notice anyone following you?”

“No.” Her breath caught, her thoughts racing. “You don’t think this has something to do with the deaths at the hospital, do you?”

“We need to consider the possibility.”

“The officer said they had a drive-by shooting just last month. That this was probably a case of mistaken identity. They know an ex-gang member lives in a house like this a few blocks over.”

Zach hunkered down in front of her and lowered his voice to an earnest whisper. “Officer Nelson is likely right, but I’d rather err on the side of caution. Is there somewhere else you could stay for a while? At least until we figure out who’s responsible?”

The churning in her stomach returned. Why was this happening to her? Life was hard enough, juggling a job and Suzie’s care. She couldn’t bear to be driven from her home, too. “No one followed me here,” she insisted. “I want to go home. Suzie is frightened enough. If I take her somewhere else, she’ll only become more scared.”

Zach’s gaze was filled with compassion, but she could see the mental debate going on behind his eyes.

“Even if your concerns were founded,” she said, “I can’t bring danger to someone else’s doorstep. My phone number is unlisted.” Tara waved her hand toward the window. “My car obviously won’t be in the driveway. Suzie and I will be as safe at home as any other place where some lunatic might track us.”

“Okay.” Rising to his feet, Zach lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll drive you home. Then, as a precaution, I’ll ask Detective Gray to arrange for a female officer to spend the night with you.”

The idea of a stranger in her home didn’t feel all that reassuring. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

Zach’s expression turned stern. “I won’t take chances with your and Suzie’s safety.”

Tara stared at him, speechless, wondering why this seemed so personal to him. And why his protective reaction filled her with such a deep sense of reassurance. A feeling she could get used to. Which would be a colossal mistake.

Zach wasn’t part of her life. He was just a man with a job to do.

Suzie dashed back into the room, a cupcake in each hand, her thumbs digging into the icing.

Zach relieved her of the goodies, and Suzie scrambled into Tara’s lap before they could send her on another errand. Zach smiled over Suzie’s head as he handed Tara a cupcake.

Reminded once more that her stomach still felt queasy, Tara set the cupcake on the table beside her.

Suzie snuggled under her arm. “I don’t want to stay here, Mommy.”

“You don’t have to. Zach’s offered to drive us home.”

Mom appeared, carrying two cups of tea. “You’re going?”

Hopeful it would settle her stomach, Tara gratefully accepted the cup. “After all the excitement, I think Suzie will sleep better in her own bed.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true. If your father wasn’t due home soon, I’d be tempted to leave with you.”

Zach took the other teacup and offered Mom his hand. “Zach Reynolds. I’m an IT consultant at the hospital.”

“Dak not a cop,” Suzie chimed in.

“I can see that.” Mom tousled Suzie’s hair as she eyed Zach. “All the same, it’s very nice of you to see Tara safely home.”

A knock sounded and Suzie leaped from the chair.

“Let Grandma answer the door,” Tara scolded.

Officer Nelson carried in Suzie’s car seat, and Tara’s purse and lunch bag. “I thought you might need these. The tow truck will be here shortly.”

Mom bustled down the hall. “I’ll get the vacuum and go over that car seat. Make sure no glass is left behind.”

Suzie ran to the seat and poked her finger through a bullet hole in the plastic sidewall at head level. “Bad man hole my chair.”

The blood drained from Tara’s face and the room started to spin. Zach must’ve sprung to his feet and grabbed her tea, because the next thing she knew he was pushing her head to her knees.

“Breathe,” he said gently. “It’s okay. Suzie’s okay. Take big breaths.”

The air came in short gulps between snippets of horrible images of her baby being shot.

Zach rubbed her back. “Shh, it’s okay.”

Tara sprang upright. “How can you say that? My baby could’ve been killed.”

He cupped his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye. “She wasn’t. And I’m going to make sure nothing happens to either of you. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, not ready to question how he planned to do that.

Thankfully, Mom distracted Suzie from Tara’s meltdown by cajoling her into helping vacuum the safety seat.

As soon as they finished, Zach carried it to his truck.

“Who is that man?” Mom asked the instant the door closed behind him.

“Dak,” Suzie piped up.

“Yes, sweetie.” Mom rested her palm on Suzie’s head and pinned her gaze on Tara. “How did he know you were here?”

“I was on the phone with him when the shots were fired.”

“You’re seeing him?”

“We’re friends,” Tara hedged. She’d known the man for twenty-four hours. It hardly qualified him as a friend, but telling Mom he was a cop wasn’t an option. She’d scarcely explained how she’d injured her wrist last week let alone her suspicions about whoever had shoved her.

Mom looked as though she wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it when Tara reached for Suzie.

By the time Tara had helped Suzie into her shoes and zipped up her ladybug jacket, her favorite, Zach had returned. He came through the back door. “The media is here. I’ve parked my truck at the neighbor’s house behind this one. If we exit through the backyard, we won’t be spotted.” He turned to Tara’s mother. “If they come to the door, perhaps you could say this has been quite a shock and your daughter is resting. That way they’ll assume she’s still here.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

He whisked Tara and Suzie outside, and within minutes they were headed back to Miller’s Bay.

Tara gave him directions to her street, and then they lapsed into silence. As they passed the hospital, she said, “Why did you call me this afternoon?”

“I went looking for you to ask about your run-in with Whittaker. Nurse Bradshaw told me you went home sick.”

“You heard about Whittaker?” She replayed in her mind their encounter outside the medicine locker. Did she really think he was capable of sweet-talking his patients into bequeathing their life’s savings to the hospital, and then killing them to speed delivery?

Zach glanced at her, his forehead puckered. “I was there. Remember?”

“O-o-oh.” She drew out the word to three syllables. “You’re talking about the first incident.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean, first?”

Tara glanced over her shoulder at her ever-watchful daughter. “Perhaps we should talk about this later.”

His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror. “Good idea.” A few minutes later, he pulled into her driveway. “Wait here while I make sure it’s safe.”

“Um...” Her gaze darted from one window to the next. “I feel like a sitting duck. Don’t you think it’d be safer if we all went in together?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched, telling her he didn’t like the idea. He scanned the neighbors’ yards and the street. “Okay, let’s go.”

By the time Tara had gathered her things and climbed from the truck, Zach had Suzie unbuckled. He held out his palm. “Give me your keys.”

With Suzie’s safety paramount in her mind, she handed them over and took her daughter from his arms.

He unlocked the front door and hesitated as if bracing for an assault or explosion of some kind.

“What is it?”

He shook his head and moved inside. “Shut the door and wait here while I check the rest of the house.”

The tender concern in his voice washed over her like a gentle rain, swishing away the tension that had knotted her stomach. She nudged a few pairs of tiny shoes out of his path. “Excuse the mess.”

“You have a three-year-old. Messes go with the territory,” he said, winking at her. “Nothing to apologize for.”

His wink did funny things to her heart. Someone who didn’t care about kids’ messes might tempt her to reconsider her no-dating rule.

Right. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to find herself attracted to a guy if she’d tried. And, boy, was she attracted.

She hugged Suzie tighter. Now was not the time to entertain such thoughts. Someone had shot at her tonight. Maybe intentionally.

* * *

Zach let his gaze skim over the living room and adjoining dining area. A poufy sofa and chair filled a couple of walls. A bookcase, its bottom shelves loaded with toys and picture books, adorned a third wall, and a large bay window encompassed the fourth. Recessed ceiling lights bathed the room in a warm glow. “Your place looks great. Homey.”

Tara’s lips curved into a smile that chased away the shadows around her eyes. “Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Uncertain how to respond, he ducked his head and murmured, “Stay put until I get back.” He searched the two bedrooms, inspected the closets and under all the beds, and then checked the bathroom, kitchen and basement, assessing every window and door. Although reassured to find no evidence of an attempted break-in, he nevertheless put in a call to Rick.

Returning to the living room, he found Tara and Suzie sitting in an armchair, reading a picture book. The sight clogged his throat.

He coughed to clear it. “The place looks safe enough, so I went ahead and asked Detective Gray to send over a female officer to stay with you. I also ordered a pizza. I figured you might be hungry.”

She fluttered her fingers through Suzie’s hair. “I still don’t feel up to eating, but I’m sure Suzie will appreciate it.”

“Mmm,” the little girl agreed, before scurrying over to her toy shelf.

Tara picked up her lunch bag and purse. “I guess I might as well chuck what’s left of this macaroni salad.” She opened the back door off the kitchen and scraped the contents from her container into the compost bucket.

“You need to eat something. Do you have crackers? They might settle your stomach.”

She pulled a bag of soda crackers from the cupboard, plugged in the kettle for tea and then turned circles.

“Relax. Sit down,” Zach said in the most soothing voice he could muster, considering what her restlessness was doing to him. “Tell me what happened with Whittaker.”

“Oh.” She placed her hands on the table, continuously clasping and unclasping her fingers. She must’ve noticed that the habit caught his attention, because she dropped her hands into her lap.

“Start by telling me why Whittaker grabbed your arm in the lobby.”

“He said that I looked like I might faint or something.”

Zach nudged the package of crackers toward her. “Did you feel faint?”

“More like shocked. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Parker’s name on the donation wall. They didn’t have that kind of money to donate. And...” Tara’s explanation came out in a rush.

“Could’ve been a life-insurance policy. Since they both died the same day, the money would’ve gone to the beneficiaries of the estate. Or maybe, memorial gifts were made in their memory. I can check into it. It is a little suspicious.”

“A little? Dr. Whittaker outright said to me that the less attention drawn to the Parkers’ deaths, the better. So people wouldn’t get the wrong idea.”

“But he didn’t imply that the deaths and the hospital’s windfall were actually connected?”

Her voice rose a notch. “He implied that I’d better keep my mouth shut if I knew what was good for me.”

“Whittaker actually threatened you?”

“Not in so many words. But don’t you see? He must’ve charmed the Parkers into changing their will, and then bumped them off.”

He quirked a brow. “Kind of a big risk for him to take when he doesn’t personally benefit.”

“Then who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, Tara. I don’t know how killing a couple of terminally ill patients can score anyone a payoff.”

Tara threw up her hands. “Why does it have to have anything to do with personal gain?”

“It doesn’t. But it usually does.”

“Well, that scratches the doctors.” She sighed. “They can hardly be in need of more money.”

“Not necessarily. Many graduate from med school with enormous financial debt.”

The doorbell rang and Suzie sprang to her feet.

“No,” Zach chided gently. “You mustn’t open the door unless your mommy says it’s okay.” Heartened to see that being back in familiar surroundings had at least eradicated the youngster’s fears, he glanced out the window. “It’s Detective Gray and your pizza,” he said to Tara.

“All right, Suzie. You can open the door this time. But next time, remember what Zach said—ask first.”

Suzie’s little legs scurried to the door in a blur that could outrace Wile E. Coyote.

“Well, hello,” Rick’s voice carried into the room. “Is your mommy home?”

Tara set her hands on Suzie’s shoulders. “Come on in. Thanks for coming. And bringing supper.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Tara leaned down and whispered in Suzie’s ear, “You go wash your hands before we eat.”

Suzie eyed Rick and the female officer curiously, then skedaddled down the hall.

Rick introduced the brunette at his side as Officer Kelly Teal, Tara’s bodyguard for the evening. The attractive young officer wore jeans and a T-shirt and carried an overnight bag.

Tara gave Kelly an apologetic look. “I’m sure Zach’s concerns are overblown. Officer Nelson was certain the shooting was a random gang thing.”

Rick handed Tara the pizza box. “Let’s pray so. In the meantime, Kelly will keep an eye out for any signs of trouble.”

The kettle whistled. Tara let out a resigned sigh, set the pizza box on the coffee table and excused herself.

“What do you think?” Rick whispered to Zach as Kelly stowed her bag behind the sofa.

“No sign of anyone watching the place. The windows and doors have decent-enough locks. And, like she said, this could be a false alarm. Then again...”

Tara’s scream split the air.

Zach rushed to the kitchen, Rick at his heels. The back screen door hung open. In the faint pool of light beyond the threshold, Tara stood frozen, her hand splayed over her throat, her gaze fixed on a convulsing baby raccoon.

Suzie darted into the room, but Kelly immediately corralled her into the living room. Zach clasped Tara’s upper arms from behind and urged her back inside.

She whirled to face him and his heart wrenched. She’d gone ashen, her eyes glazed, her body trembling. It was all he could do not to fold her in his arms.

He spotted the upturned compost bucket and shot a glance to Rick.

“What was in that bucket?” Rick asked.

“My leftover lunch.” Tara choked on the words as her terrified eyes met Zach’s. “Someone tried to poison me.”