Critical Condition. Sandra Orchard
sweetie. Zach’s a computer consultant. Not a cop. Okay?”
“Not a cop.”
“That’s right. So you mustn’t say he is.”
“Not a cop,” Suzie repeated.
Zach looked even paler than he had after Suzie drew his picture.
Tara turned over the paper. “Don’t worry,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. “Suzie won’t blow your cover.”
Zach didn’t look so sure. “Maybe you could take some time off until I’ve finished the investigation. After your outburst in the lounge, we’d probably be safer all around.”
She thought of how panicked she’d felt only a few minutes ago. Now that she knew the police were on the case, she didn’t feel nearly so worried. She hadn’t said anything in that room that her colleagues hadn’t already heard. And sure, she might’ve momentarily suspected McCrae and Whittaker the night of the murder when they’d run into the room wearing the same kind of lab coats as the guy who’d shoved her, but if one of them was worried about her identifying them, he would’ve done something by now. “It’s okay. I’ll keep my mouth shut and my eyes open. I’m a single mom with bills to pay. I can’t afford to take time off.”
“I understand. But you must have vacation time available. Or, given your wrist injury, we could probably arrange a paid medical leave.”
“Absolutely not. My promotion to head nurse last month earned me flack from more than one nurse with seniority over me. I will not give them the ammunition to take me out.”
A muscle in Zach’s jaw twitched. “It’s okay,” he said in a comforting tone that sounded as though he meant it. He tousled Suzie’s hair. “Once this little munchkin sees me around the hospital, she’ll probably start calling me Doc.”
Suzie patted his arm. “Dak.”
Zach winked at Tara. “What did I tell you?”
Her stomach did a tiny flip. Zach didn’t act the way she’d expect a detective to act at all. With his bronzed skin and sandy-blond hair, he looked as though he spent more time on a surfboard than at a computer. She didn’t want to try to decipher the twinge of admiration she’d felt when Suzie had taken so readily to him. Her little girl wouldn’t even go to Grandma as willingly as she’d belly flopped into Zach’s strong arms.
Tara shook her head. How would she know if his arms were strong?
It’s not that Suzie weighed very much. Any guy’s muscles would bulge when he flexed his arms to lift a child. Oh, brother, get off what his arms look like already. She cleared her throat. “Um, do you really think the...” Glancing at her daughter, she mouthed the word killer. “...would come after me?”
“What can you tell me about the patients who died?”
Tara blinked. Assuming his answer might hinge on hers, she said, “They were all Dr. Whittaker’s patients. Different ages. Different types of cancer. Unlike Ellen, the first two patients were already on the ward when their fevers struck.”
“Wealthy?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“We need a motive,” he explained. “Why do you think someone would murder these people?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about it, except in Mr. Parker’s case. I assumed he surprised the killer.”
“You told Detective Gray this person wore a lab coat.”
“Yes.”
“Did you notice a scent? Any sound? The squeak of shoes, maybe? The color of his pants?”
Tara closed her eyes and tried to remember. “Yes!” Her eyes popped open. “His pants were dark blue. But...” She inhaled, focused her mind on the memories of that night. But all she could smell was Zach’s woodsy scent. Her heart fluttered. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall anything else.”
“If you do, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll look for evidence of fudged medical reports, manipulated drug trials or threatened lawsuits—anything that points to a possible motive. I need you to alert me to any unusual behavior on the part of staff or patients. Okay?”
“Absolutely. But...” She dug her fingers into her palms. “Um... You didn’t answer my question. Do you think he’ll come after me?”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Yes.” She looked at him quizzically, then pulled it from her purse.
He took it and punched in numbers. “I’ve programmed in my number. If you notice anything unusual or suspicious, if anything frightens you, don’t hesitate to call me. Day or night. Understand?”
Her pulse raced. “Yes, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes.” Fear welled in her throat. He did think she’d be a target. He must.
“Is there somewhere else you can stay for a while? A friend’s perhaps?”
“Are you trying to scare me?” she said through gritted teeth, not wanting to believe what his avoidance was saying loud and clear. “Is this another tactic to get me to take time off work?”
“No.”
“Then answer my question.”
Zach’s gaze shifted to Suzie and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes, Tara, I believe you could be in danger.”
TWO
The next day, with half a night of prayer behind him, Zach managed to walk the halls of the cancer ward without feeling that he might faint. Good thing, too, since the realization that Tara’s theories might not be so far-fetched had nixed all hope of avoiding this area of the hospital.
Barbara’s finely plucked eyebrows had disappeared into her bangs when he’d offered to test the computer setups in the new wing. But once he’d convinced his colleague that he would rather confront his ghosts than run from them, she had handed over the pass cards to all the computers on the floor.
Ahead of him, Tara stepped from a patient’s room. Her hair was done up in a funky bun. Strands of hair poked out in various directions, and several wayward tendrils curled down the back of her slender neck. Oh, boy, if his mouth went this dry watching her from behind, he dreaded to think how he’d react to seeing those beautiful brown eyes again.
She turned, and her smile swept the breath from his lungs.
He recovered quickly and asked for directions to Whittaker’s office. He knew the way, but asking Tara to show him would give him an opportunity to find out how she was faring without piquing anyone’s curiosity.
Tara glanced at the pass cards he held. “Dr. Whittaker doesn’t like to be disturbed too soon after rounds. Perhaps you could start with our resident’s computer. Dr. McCrae.”
Recognizing the name as one of the doctors on duty the night the Parkers died, Zach agreed.
“How are you doing?” he asked as they strolled to McCrae’s office.
“I didn’t sleep so well. I thought I’d sleep better, knowing you’re...you know. But I woke at every noise, worried he’d come after me.”
“I’m sorry I scared you. But I’d rather you be on your guard than unaware of potential danger. Suzie okay?”
Tara chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You made quite an impression on her. All evening it was Dak this, and Dak that.”
Zach smiled past a pang of grief. “She’s a sweet girl.”
Tara knocked on an unmarked door. When there was no response, she pushed it open. “Before this new wing was added, our interns