by Cindy Dees
She did. Although she was such a tiny thing, he barely noticed her weight in the crook of his arm.
The next hour passed more quickly, and it became clear even to him that Chloe had turned a corner for the better. The labored quality to her breathing started to ease a bit, and the ICU staff even seemed more relaxed.
By midmorning, the pulmonologist declared Chloe out of the woods. They were going to keep her in the ICU for a little longer just to be safe, however. But Chloe’s immune system had kicked in strongly enough and in time to combat the dangerous infection. So far, no fluid was accumulating in her lungs. Another good sign.
At noon, Liam ducked his head out of the room to ask if it was safe for Sloane to take a breather. When the nurse answered affirmatively, he returned to the child’s bedside.
“Sloane, I’ll stay with Chloe. Why don’t you go grab a shower and a nap? You were up all night.”
“So were you.”
“Yeah, but I’m used to pulling long stakeouts. And you were down on sleep going into last night.” He didn’t mention aloud that he could physically see the strain last night had been for her. Dark smudges rested under her eyes, and her fair skin had taken on a transparent quality. The crisis had stretched her right to the breaking point.
“Wake me in a half hour?”
“An hour. And make the shower fast so most of the hour is sleep.”
Thankfully, she didn’t put up a fight at that and shuffled tiredly from the room.
He actually let an hour and ten minutes pass in hopes that she would get a full hour of rest. He ducked into the small respite room and Sloane was curled up in the middle of the bed, clutching Snuffles as tightly as if the stuffed toy was Chloe herself. Smiling a little, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and stroked his hand gently down her narrow back.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured as she woke groggily.
She blinked up at him in confusion.
“Hospital,” he supplied. “Chloe’s getting better, but I sent you in here to get a shower and a nap.”
Her hand reached up to touch the damp strings of her hair. “Right,” she mumbled. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“I can imagine. You had a rough night.”
“So did you.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad I could be there for you.”
She looked up at him. “Me, too. For real. I don’t know if I’d have made it through the night without you.”
“You’d have done fine—”
She cut him off. “Don’t underestimate how much you helped me, Liam. When I panicked and couldn’t see my way forward, you showed me the path.”
He frowned. “I just told you the truth.”
“And I needed to hear it.”
He smiled gently. “God help you as a parent if Chloe turns out to be half as strong-willed as you.”
“I’m just glad to have that problem.”
“Want me to remind you that you said that in about a dozen years, when she’s sneaking out of the house and demanding her freedom and driving you crazy?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Their gazes met, and he was stunned to see her looking as startled as he felt. Was it possible? Did Sloane see him as someone who might be in her life in a decade? Surely she thought of him as no more than an extension of her brother.
Except he could swear that was awareness in her eyes...of him...as a man.
Something warm unfolded in his heart. It was intimate and personal, a connection between them, forged in last night’s crisis.
A cell phone rang, and he jumped as hard as Sloane did.
She fumbled on the bedside table for her phone and frowned at it. “I don’t recognize the number. It might be a family member, though.”
She put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
Dismay broke across her face, and Liam didn’t even have to ask who was on the other end of the line. “Put him on speaker,” he bit out.
Sloane fumbled at the phone, poking at several icons, and then Ivan’s angry voice filled the room. “How dare you block me? I had to get a burner phone just to speak to you.”
Liam made a chopping motion across his throat at Sloane, and mouthed, “Hang up.”
She rolled her eyes at him and said instead, “Chloe spent the night in intensive care.”
“What? Why?”
Liam’s eyebrow arched in surprise. Huh. Was that a shred of parental concern from the bastard?
“I told you, she has a serious viral infection. It’s like the flu but not quite the same. She seems to have turned the corner, though. They’re hoping to move her back to a regular room this evening.”
“And how much is a night in intensive care going to cost me?” Ivan snapped.
Liam’s mouth actually fell open. The guy’s daughter had nearly died!
“My health insurance covers Chloe. Thanks so much for your concern,” Sloane snapped.
“Don’t get snippy with me, missy.”
“Ivan. Don’t ever call me that again. In fact, I’ll thank you never to take that tone of voice with me again.”
Liam nodded encouragingly to her. It was about damned time she stood up to her ex-husband.
Ivan, however, took a dim view of the idea and exploded. Liam couldn’t think of another word to describe the spate of cursing and threats that erupted from the phone. It was protracted enough that Liam was able to pull out a small notepad and actually take notes of some of the more colorful threats the bastard leveled at Sloane.
Ivan finally wound down and abruptly hung up on Sloane. It sounded like the guy had smashed the burner phone by way of disconnecting the call.
“If you insist on interacting with Ivan, please tell me you at least installed a call recording app on your phone.”
Sloane smiled a little. “I did, actually.”
“In that case, I’d love to have that little display of temper as evidence”
“Fine by me.”
“Would you mind if I take your phone down to the police station, pull the recording and put it into evidence against your ex?”
“Not in the least, Detective.”
Liam reached for her phone but then frowned at it. “I don’t want to leave you without a phone in case you need to get in touch with me—” he corrected himself fast “—or with your family, of course.”
He pulled his own phone out of his pants pocket and handed it to her. “Take mine.” He gave her the password to unlock it and pocketed hers.
“Go home and get a shower and a nap yourself, Liam. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty for Chloe...and me.”
He smiled at her. “It was my pleasure. Well, not a pleasure to go through last night. But I’m glad I could be there for you both.”
Their gazes met, and that moment of connection was back. They’d been to hell and back together last night, but the three of them had come through the fire mostly unscathed. Sloane reached out and laid her hand on his cheek.
“What would I have done without you?” she whispered.
“You’d have survived and been there for your daughter.”
“I don’t know. Your strength and support were all that got me through a few of those hours.”
“Any time you need me, you call me.”
She leaned forward, her chin tilting up and her lips parting slightly.
He didn’t hesitate. He took the invitation she was offering, tilted his head slightly to one side and kissed the girl of his dreams.
Sloane’s mouth was soft and sweet and welcoming. All the things he’d ever imagined and more. She tasted faintly of toothpaste, which was kind of perfect, too. It was clean and fresh, a throwback to his longing for her going all the way back to junior high.
Twenty years of wanting this moment rushed over him
in a wave of wonderment and...relief. He’d desired this woman forever. And here she was, at long last. It was like coming home after a sojourn of thousands of miles and many long years.
Reverently, he kept on kissing her. It was sweet and gentle and tentative, and he felt no pressure to make more of it than that. It was a beginning. A promise of more to come.
She drew away first and rested her forehead against his.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” He should be—he had no intention of being the rebound guy—but he wasn’t sorry. Not at all.
“Okay, then. No regrets,” she replied slowly.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Great. I’ll bring you supper here at the hospital at six. I need you to promise to take another nap this afternoon when your mom or one of your siblings is here to give you a break.”
“Okay.” A pause. “And thanks for looking out for me.”
“Thanks for letting me.” He dropped one last light kiss on her mouth, loving the fullness of her lips and the way they parted a little in surprise beneath his, the little gasp of indrawn breath she took when he smiled down at her. As second kisses went, it was pretty damned near perfect, too.
He had big plans for their third kiss. Soon. When Chloe was back on her feet and Sloane had the mental energy to give her undivided attention to the epic kiss he was going to coax her to share.
He wasn’t sure his feet actually touched the ground as he exited the hospital and drove back to the station to download the recording of that phone call and put another nail in Ivan Durant’s coffin.
Chapter 6
Chloe was finally moved out of intensive care in the late afternoon. Little Bug seemed nearly as exhausted as Sloane after last night’s fight for her life and was mainly interested in sleeping.
A nurse murmured to Sloane that Chloe would be out like a light for the next few hours, and if Sloane wanted to sneak away to go home, shower, eat and nap, now would be the perfect time. Mara, whose shift it was to keep Sloane company, promised not to leave Chloe’s side until Sloane returned.
She looked doubtfully back and forth between the nurse and her mother.
“Go on, darling. Go take care of yourself. Chloe needs you to be strong and healthy for her.”
“Okay, Mom. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. I’ve got a good book with me, and Chloe looks wiped out.”
It felt strange to leave her daughter’s side after the crisis they’d just been through together. She lectured herself all the way out to the parking lot that she couldn’t be so overprotective of Chloe going forward. She had to let her be a normal kid. Although how she wasn’t going to turn into a total overprotective germophobe after this scare, she had no idea.
She’d just climbed into her car when Liam’s phone rang. She probably shouldn’t answer it. Except he was a police officer. What if it was some emergency and someone really needed to get a hold of him? She would just answer it and tell the person to call him on her cell phone number.
“Hello. This is Sloane Colton on Liam Kastor’s phone.”
A man’s voice said, “Oh. Uh. Great. I have the results from the surveillance cameras in your house, Ms. Colton. If you could pass that on to Liam, I’d be grateful. They’re all operational. The images are being sent to an address on the east side of Denver. I can text you the address.”
Surveillance cameras? In her house?
“Umm, yeah. Sure,” she mumbled. What the hell was Liam up to? Was he spying on her?
All thoughts of a shower fled her mind as she pointed her car toward the Roaring Springs Police Department, rehearsing the blistering tirade she was going to level at him. Anyone who saw her stopped at a traffic light, ranting to herself in the car, would no doubt think she’d lost her mind. Tough. Liam was going to lose a few body parts before she was done with him.
She stormed into the police department and spotted Liam sitting in a cubicle on the far side of a large room housing a dozen desks. Razor-sharp speech on the tip of her tongue, she plowed through the maze of cubicles toward him.
A woman of middle age was sitting in a chair beside Liam’s desk, speaking quietly. Liam typed on a computer and then paused to ask a question. As Sloane neared, she overheard the woman.
“And I was worried when she didn’t return any of my calls. I texted and texted her and she never answered. It has been so long without a word from her. Then I saw a picture on TV of that girl who was murdered last month and my heart dropped to my feet. My April looks so much like her—slender, with big dark eyes, fair skin, long, dark hair...”
The woman stopped speaking as if unable to go on and held out a five-by-seven photograph of a lovely young woman, who did, indeed, bear a striking resemblance to Bianca Rouge, the girl who’d been found dead on Wyatt’s ranch.
Sloane’s tirade derailed abruptly as Liam said quietly, “Mrs. Thomas, of course I’ll look into your daughter’s disappearance. You said she told you she was coming to Roaring Springs for a job interview. You’re sure she didn’t say who with?”
“I’m positive,” the woman answered in obvious frustration and desperation.
“And this was...” he glanced at his computer screen “...a year ago?”
“Almost to the day. I reported her missing to the Denver police, and they called someone down here. But the local police said there’d been no sightings of her in Roaring Springs. They didn’t think she ever came here.”
“Do you know if the Denver PD spoke to the Roaring Springs Police Department or the county sheriff’s office?” Liam asked.
“I have no idea.”
Tears spilled over onto the woman’s cheeks, and Sloane’s heart broke for her. She knew exactly how she would feel as a parent if Chloe disappeared without a trace. She would want to die.
Determination lined Liam’s face, but his voice was gentle. “I can’t promise to find your daughter, but I can promise to turn over every rock in Roaring Springs and see if we can find out if she was ever here.”
“Thank you for not calling me crazy,” Mrs. Thomas mumbled.
Liam pressed his business card into her hand. “You’re clearly not crazy, ma’am. You’re a worried parent. I’ll do my utmost to help you. Here’s my phone number if you remember any more details that might help, or if you want an update on my investigation. Call me anytime.”
That was generous of him. She would think twice before inviting her clients to call her anytime. The woman stood up and Liam rose as well. Mrs. Thomas threw her arms around Liam impulsively, and although he threw Sloane a wry look, he hugged the woman warmly.
He even walked her to the front door, and Sloane heard him say, “Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Thomas. We’ll do our best to solve this mystery.”
He came back to his desk, where Sloane still stood. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise visit?”
Right. Cameras in her house.
“I got an interesting phone call. On your phone,” she started acidly.
Obviously alarmed by her tone, he steered her into the conference room behind his desk. Smart man. She was going to rip him a new one.
Liam closed the door and turned to face her. He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles bulging beneath the oxford cotton. Sometimes she forgot how big and strong he was now, but as he towered over her, frowning heavily, she was reminded of her relative puniness in comparison to this man.
“Who called my phone?” he asked evenly.
“Some guy. Weird name. Ziggy. Zigby.”
“Aww, hell.” He sighed as if sensing where this conversation was about to go. “Zogby. Rahm Zogby,” Liam supplied. A muscle rippled in his jaw like he was clenching his teeth. Hard. Bracing himself.
Yeah, buddy. Go ahead. Brace yourself. This was going to hurt him a lot worse than it w
as going to hurt her. Highly trained courtroom lawyer that she was, though, she remained silent and let Liam’s anxiety build before she moved in for the kill.
When he appeared unable to stand the suspense any longer, Liam blurted, “What did Zog have to say?”
Her brows snapped together as her restraint broke all at once. She spoke crisply, enunciating each word like a sharpened blade. “He told me your surveillance cameras are all operational, and that the signal is being sent to an address in Denver.”
“Did he give you the address?” Liam asked quickly.
“He said he would text it to you.”
“Perfect.”
“Perfect?” Her voice rose perilously close to a screech. “You’re spying on me in my own home and all you have to say is, ‘Perfect’?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Liam threw up his hands in surrender, or maybe supplication. “I swear I’m not spying on you, Sloane. But someone is. I’m trying to figure out who.”
“What do you mean, you’re not spying on me?” she demanded. Dammit, why did he keep knocking her off balance?
He spoke quickly. “Two nights ago, when I went to your house to pick up clothes for you, I spotted what I thought might be a surveillance camera in your bedroom. I covertly searched your house and found two more cameras...one in Chloe’s room, and one in the living room. On the assumption that you didn’t install them—”
“I didn’t!” she interjected sharply.
Liam nodded as if that was what he’d expected, and then continued, “I called the FBI and had them send down one of their technicians to check your house. That was Zog. He verified that surveillance cameras were, indeed, installed in your home and sending a wireless signal somewhere. He tracked that signal to Denver, apparently.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times without words coming out. Who on earth would put surveillance cameras in her house?
The answer was obvious, of course. It was totally the sort of thing Ivan would do. The guy simply could not stand to lose. He didn’t actually want custody of Chloe, but he would be damned if she got to have her beloved daughter. He’d played dirty in the custody hearing, but thankfully, she was so squeaky clean he hadn’t had much to work with against her. Personally, she thought Ivan would be much happier without the responsibility of a child, so he could resume his gambling and womanizing unhindered. But covert surveillance against his ex-wife? That was vintage Ivan.
