A Time To Protect. Lois Richer
while realizing that somewhere along the way she’d accepted Brendan’s unvoiced suspicion that someone who wasn’t supposed to be here would visit the mayor.
The question was—why did the FBI think that?
Chapter Two
Chloe Tanner sprinted like a greyhound at the track, long legs eating up the distance down the gleaming hallway tile with effortless ease.
Brendan followed, his gaze fixed on the nurse as she closed in on the interloper. When she spun the person around he almost choked. “Colleen?”
“You know this person?”
Chloe had released her hold, yet Brendan knew that Colleen didn’t have a chance of evading the nurse. He’d already made a mental note that Chloe’s reaction times signaled some kind of martial arts training. Earlier she’d taken him down without blinking and he didn’t cave easily. So she was well-trained—black belt probably.
Some women carried pepper spray or even a gun for protection. Some learned basic methods of self-defense. But Chloe’s quickness, the speed with which she reacted, signaled more than routine training. Had Madison mentioned her mother’s dedication to some sport?
His mind clicked into the familiar police mode and Brendan found himself wondering about the ex-husband. Maybe Chloe had to defend herself and her children against him. A burst of gall in his stomach told him how much he hated that thought.
“Do you know her?” Chloe repeated, her voice threaded with steel.
“I know her. She’s my cousin and a reporter for the Colorado Springs Sentinel.” Brendan turned his attention back to the feisty blond cousin he’d never been able to keep in check all through their wild and wooly childhood. “What are you doing here, Colleen?”
“Reporting on the mayor’s shooting, of course. It’s what I do, remember, Bren?” Colleen’s blue eyes dared him to comment on her job.
“Well, what I do is look after the patients,” the nurse explained, her voice soft enough not to disturb any patient, but firm enough to make it clear she meant business. “When they are in this hospital there is a certain expectation of privacy which we try to provide for our patients. In this particular ward there are restrictions which are clearly posted. We do not allow reporters to wander into Intensive Care with tape recorders to talk to our patients. Even if they could speak.”
Brendan felt his jaw drop as Chloe slid the recorder out of Colleen’s hands, removed the tape and handed it back.
“You can’t do that! I had some other stuff on there—”
“I’m very sorry, Miss Montgomery, but I’m just doing my job.”
Brendan couldn’t detect a hint of remorse on Chloe Tanner’s gorgeous face. Her eyes—wide open, guileless and blue—stared back at his cousin, the thick lashes a perfect frame for those giant irises. Even with that gorgeous mane of shimmering auburn scraped back off her face, Chloe Tanner was a beautiful woman. In fact, her hairstyle only emphasized the clear alabaster tone of her skin and offered an enchanting view of her haunting cheekbones and full lips.
“You will have to leave now, Miss Montgomery. You do not have a visitor’s pass and you are not permitted to be here.” Chloe stood in the doorway of the mayor’s room, slim, defiant, the blue of her eyes a different tone than Colleen’s lighter ones, but every bit as determined.
Brendan braced himself for the argument his cousin would mount, then realized something was wrong. “Just a minute, Colleen. There’s supposed to be a guard here.”
“Oh, Sid was all doubled over when I came. Needed a break, you know? I guess he caught something. I said I’d watch the door for him.”
“He’s not allowed to leave. The mayor is to have round-the-clock protection. In case they try again.” Furious as this security breakdown, Brendan pulled out his phone, asked for another guard. A moment later Sid returned looking whiter than the floor as he staggered to his chair. “Hold on, Sid. I’ve got someone else coming to replace you.”
“I shouldn’t have left, but—oh,” he groaned and grabbed his stomach.
Moments later a uniformed officer hurried through the door to take his place. Sid left. Brendan turned and noticed Chloe Tanner hadn’t budged from the mayor’s doorway.
“You’ll have to leave,” she insisted, glaring at Colleen. “Now.”
“Fine.”
“Just a minute.” Brendan frowned at his cousin. “How did you get up here, Colleen?”
“The stairs.”
“Nobody stopped you?”
“Nobody except her.”
“That’s my job. You should not be here. Please leave.”
“I’m going. You should think about hiring her, Brendan. She’s better than a guard dog.” Colleen jerked her head at Chloe, snapped her recorder closed, turned and walked away. The elevator doors closed behind her.
“Do you know how rare that is?” Brendan stared in disbelief. Chloe ignored him, calmly returned to the desk and checked the open chart. Brendan was used to cataloguing height and weight, but Chloe’s long legs made her look substantially taller than the five feet six inches he’d first gauged her to be. “I can hardly believe I witnessed that with my own eyes.”
“I beg your pardon?” She glanced up from the monitor that gave her a full view of every patient’s room. They could both see Theresa checking the temperature of a patient across the way. “What’s rare?” she asked as she sidestepped him to pick up the ringing phone. She dealt with the caller summarily, then glanced at him, her mouth pursing. “You were saying?”
Her lips were full, enticing. Was she wearing lipstick—and why hadn’t it come off with her lunch? Realizing the path his thoughts were taking, Brendan fought to regain his focus. “Colleen never does as anyone asks. If she thinks there’s a story in it, she doesn’t give up.”
“Good for her.” Chloe stepped around him again, made an entry on a piece of paper and gave a hiss of frustration when she found him in the way again. Her hands clamped onto her narrow hips. “Look, I’ve got things to do and you are hampering my work. There’s really nothing more I can tell you about the mayor, so please let me do my job.”
It was evident she was telling the truth. There were no clues here. Reassured that security was back in place, all that was left was to check with the local cops about other access points and make sure no one else could use the stairs to get to the mayor.
“Thank you for your help. Here’s my card. If you think of anything, call. I’ll leave you in peace now.” Brendan walked to the elevator, paused, then turned back. “Maybe I’ll see you at soccer practice, Mrs. Tanner,” he said. “We don’t have many games left before the season ends.”
“Maybe you will,” she agreed, her attention on the monitor. When a buzzer sounded she hurried away to answer its summons.
On the ride down to the main entrance, Brendan’s thoughts were definitely not on his job, not until he rounded the corner of the parking lot and spotted the deputy mayor lurking in the shadows. At least it looked like Owen Frost. About to ask if he wanted a ride somewhere, Brendan froze when a black car eased toward Owen, who bent over to speak to the person inside. He took something from an outstretched hand then the black car rolled away.
Brendan pressed against a bunch of bushes, hoping they would shield him from the car’s headlights. When he looked around again he saw Owen now sitting in his own car, so he edged closer for a better look. The deputy mayor appeared to be counting bills—twenties.
Immediately the little nerve in Brendan’s neck began its rat-tatting, double time. Since when did the deputy mayor need to skulk in the dark, hide in the shadows? Something was going on and it involved money.