Foul Play. Elisabeth Rees
he excused himself and left.
“I understand your concerns, Deborah,” Frank said. He sat on the bed beside her. “And by the time Mr. Strachan’s team has finished upgrading our security measures, there will be no way a staff member could harm them—even if that were happening.”
Deborah stood up. “Frank,” she said, bending to look him in the eye. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, as though his sleep had been as broken as hers. “If there is even the slightest doubt that drugs have been tampered with, we should involve the police.”
The mention of police caused Frank to stand bolt upright. “And what exactly should we say to the police? Should we tell them that we have lots of sick children in a hospital?” He let out a sigh. “We don’t know that the incident in the morgue is in any way related to the renal failures. You can’t ask the police to investigate a hunch.”
Cole stepped between Frank and Deborah. “It’s not just Deborah’s hunch. Both Dr. Warren and Dr. Cortas also seem concerned about the high level of renal failure in Pediatrics.”
Frank rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you have any idea what a police investigation could do to the reputation of our hospital? It could destroy the good name we’ve worked hard to build up. I’m sorry, but I won’t allow it unless it’s absolutely necessary.” With that he turned and stalked out the door.
Cole shook his head and turned to Deborah. “I guess that’s the end of that conversation. You ready to go?”
She took a step back from him. “Are you offering to take me home?”
“Sure. I got a team of support guys doing the work here, so I’m free to give you a ride.”
She looked up into his face. His stubble was the color of a burned sunset. “No, thanks. I’d rather make my own way.”
His jaw clenched. “Please, Deborah, let me help. It’s on my way home anyway.”
“You live in Harborcreek?” she exclaimed.
“I moved back three months ago.”
Deborah found her mouth opening and closing, unable to form any words.
“I’ve kept to myself,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to risk running into you before you had the chance to find out I was back.”
“So when were you going to tell me?” she challenged. “In another ten years?”
“I’d planned to call your parents this weekend and ask them to tell you I was back in town. I kept putting it off because I was worried how you’d take the news.”
Only one word formed in her mind. “Coward.”
He nodded his head. “I deserved that. You’re right. I handled it badly. I just didn’t want to hurt you any more than I have already.”
“Why did you come back anyway?” Her question sounded like an accusation.
Cole pushed his hands deep into his jeans pockets. “It’s a long story.”
“Did your wife move here with you?” she asked.
He closed his eyes. “No, she divorced me a couple of years back.”
Deborah stood in silence for a few moments. Despite her hostility toward Cole, she didn’t revel in the breakdown of his marriage. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
“What about you?” he asked. “I see you don’t wear a ring, either.”
“I’m not married,” she said. “I was engaged to somebody for a while, but it didn’t work out.”
A strange look swept over his face. It was one of both surprise and disappointment, as if a million regrets rushed through him at once. “Please, Deborah,” Cole said. “Let me drive you home. It’s cold and rainy out there.”
He picked up her bag from the bed, his muscles flexing beneath his T-shirt, and she remembered how safe his physical strength always used to make her feel. Now she felt nothing but anger and regret that she had ever allowed him into her life.
She reached for the bag and wrested it from him. “I’ll take my chances alone. The bus is always busy, and nobody would try to attack me in public.”
“You don’t drive?” he asked, obviously remembering the fact he had given her a few lessons in his car before they broke up.
“No, I don’t drive,” she said. “I manage perfectly well without a car. I make this bus journey every day, so you really don’t need to worry.”
Cole looked skyward as if trying to keep his cool. “You’re letting your emotions override your common sense. You need protection. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”
She knew he was right. A ball of fear was curled up in her belly, telling her to be cautious, to be on her guard, but she ignored it. Yes, Cole could provide protection, but at what cost to her sanity?
“Thanks for all you’ve done to help me,” she said. “But I’ll take it from here.” With that she stalked out the door and headed for the exit. He didn’t try to follow her, but she knew he was watching her leave, no doubt shaking his head at her stubbornness. She put aside the voice in her head telling her to stop, to turn around and take him up on his offer. Instead, she called the elevator and pressed the button to take her to the basement floor, where a bus stop was situated in the underground parking lot for the hospital staff. As the elevator glided below ground, Deborah clenched her teeth together, gripping her bag with tight fingers, trying with all her might to contain her rising level of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, Cole’s presence gave her a sense of reassurance that he could shield her from another attack, but every fiber of her body cried out to run away from him.
She carried her head high as the doors opened and she strode purposefully out into the parking lot, keeping her wits about her, checking her surroundings. The lot was full of cars and empty of people, as it usually was at this time, and the bus stop was near to the exit ramp just around the corner. It would take her only two or three minutes to walk there.
She heard the squeal of rubber tires turning quickly on asphalt and she darted between two cars, crouching low to see where the vehicle was located. A beat-up red compact came into view, radio blaring, a young man at the wheel chewing gum. He raced past her driving way too fast and was soon out of sight. She stood up, exhaling in annoyance as she heard his car scrape its underside on the exit ramp. He was a young hospital orderly, immature and reckless.
But the sound and sight of normal everyday activity reassured her, and she weaved between the vehicles, resuming her walk to the bus stop, where she reckoned several other people already would be waiting. That was when she heard footsteps behind her keeping pace with hers. They were heavy, those of a man, and she suspected that Cole had followed her to try to persuade her not to travel home alone.
She spun around. “Cole...” She stopped. The sound of footsteps melted away, and a hush descended over the lot. Nobody was there.
“Cole?” she repeated. “Is that you?”
No reply.
“Who’s there?” she called.
A menacing voice rumbled in the windowless lot lit by dim overhead bulbs. “Your worst nightmare.”
Panic hit her full force in the gut, and she dropped her bag and started to run. The heavy footsteps resumed behind her, and she cried out, trying to alert the people who would be waiting at the bus stop just around the corner.
“Help!” Her voice was weak with fear and she filled her lungs to shout louder.
Before she could make another sound she became aware of a person close behind, seeming to appear from thin air. A hand curled over her mouth, another around her throat. They were large hands, rough and calloused, exactly like the ones on the attacker in the morgue. Her screams were stifled, and her legs gave way.
Cole