Entangling: Book One of the Kirin Lane Series

by Kelley Griffin

  Emily nodded. Her husband Chris held her hand and stared at the doc’s hands in horror. Emily held her breath as the doctor gouged a needle next to her spine. Emily’s entire body stiffened, and one knee jerked outward.

  Kirin froze. She’d witnessed this happening once before, and it was due to a wrong needle placement.

  Dr. Watkins swore an oath under his breath, then growled, “Young lady, if you move even a centimeter you will be paralyzed. Nurse, wake up and get a hold of your patient!”

  Kirin sprang to action. Careful so she didn’t jar her, she wrapped her arms around young Emily and squeezed to hold her still. Tears ran down Emily’s cheeks.

  Sweat beaded on Dr. Watkins’ slick head over his brow. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d been preoccupied with the damn flowers and the damn thugs and not concentrating on her patient. And this old doc was too impatient and set in his ways to do this intricate work. It wasn’t all her fault, but she’d be partly to blame if he paralyzed her. Kirin held Emily tighter.

  Dr. Watkins pulled the sterile guide needle out slightly then reinserted the catheter tube less than sixteenth of an inch away, found the correct spot and inserted the tube.

  A sigh of relief flooded the room, halted only by Dr. Watkins slamming the syringe back on the metal tray. The father-to-be jerked at the noise.

  “Nurse Lane. Meet me outside,” Dr. Watkins said through gritted teeth.

  He gathered his things, scratched his name on her file and stomped out the door. Never uttering a word to the patient. Kirin smiled reassuringly at Emily, laying her back on the bed and covering her up. The couple held hands and shot her pity glances as if she was trudging to the gallows.

  No sooner had she crossed the threshold out into the hall, Dr. Watkins lit into her.

  “Young lady, where are you?” He yelled, but didn’t wait for her answer, “Your mind should always be on your patient. Normally, you’re one of the few nurses on this floor I don’t have to worry about. Get it together, Nurse Lane, or find another career.”

  Dr. Watkins huffed, then stomped past her.

  He was right, she was to blame. She wanted to add this to the long list of items she blamed on her father, but she couldn’t. This was all her. She’d let her personal life threaten her work. She wasn’t a crier, but tears stung her eyes. She stood for a full minute and stared down the empty hall.

  Nothing felt safe anymore. These men and this stupid book had knocked her off track. Well, no more. With her fists balled, she swore. Even if she hated him, and his damn book, she knew what she had to do. She had to defend herself. She’d fix this. No matter what.

  Chapter Eight

  Heading home after her shift, toting the massive flowers to the car, Kirin passed one of the doctors she’d delivered with late in the day.

  “Hey, Kirin,” he called, trotting toward her.

  “Hey, Dr. Tucker”

  “I wanted to tell you not to worry about the curmudgeon, Dr. Watkins. Somebody peed in his bran cereal this morning because he’s been hostile to everybody. It wasn’t you. You’re always on target with your patients. The way you take charge of the room and handle it with ease, amazes me.”

  Flattered, she smiled and stuttered, “Well…thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Another thing,” he continued, “I saw Stacy in the cafeteria, and she tells me you’re dating now. So, I wondered if I could take you to dinner some time. Are you busy Saturday?”

  Going. To. Kill. Her.

  Kirin’s mind scrambled. Quick as lightning, she found her way out.

  “I…I’d love to, but I can’t. My boys were invited to a birthday party and I’ve already promised them we’d go. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, no problem.”

  Dejected, he turned and walked back to his car. It was a true statement, but still, a pang of remorse hit her as she climbed into her car. He was a good doctor and a nice guy. She hated letting anyone down.

  Starting her car, Kirin pulled out her phone to text something verbally abusive to her so-called friend Stacy, when she remembered the incoming text she’d received on the plane. The warning.

  Kirin buckled the flowers into the passenger seat and drove straight to a cell phone store. The young, pimple-faced techie behind the counter said there wasn’t a way to trace it back and no way to block incoming texts without knowing the number.

  Her mind ran wild with scenarios. Not a good way to finish out the day. Yes, she was paranoid and yes, she’d seen too many silly movies, but she dumped the flowers in the first dumpster she came across on her way home. Could be a tracer in there; better to be safe than sorry. She kept the card though, just in case.

  ~*~

  After dinner, homework and showers, the boys drifted off to sleep. Kirin settled into comfy pajamas and nestled in at her desk to catch up on emails. A new message dinged from her dad’s attorney. He needed one more paper signed for her inheritance.

  She read it. Then deleted it.

  Sure, she was strapped, and God knew the house needed some serious work, but wouldn’t accepting the money mean she forgave him? Well, she didn’t. She was fine, thank you.

  More than fine. She didn’t need money from someone who didn’t care enough about her to be a part of her life. Someone who’d left her a tattered and torn Marine Corps Field Manual to remember him by. He must’ve been crazy or demented if he thought this stupid book would help her to know him.

  Kirin snatched the book out of the chair next to her bed, as if it was to blame. She’d thrown it there the night before when she’d unpacked from LA and it’d stared at her from the corner ever since. She opened it. On the third page in, below the ISBN information, she found a neatly scrolled note she hadn’t noticed until now.

  It read:

  Kirin keep this book and yourself safe. I did this all for you and I hope that someday you can understand. Please find the truth inside these pages. I love you, princess,

  Love, Dad

  Princess.

  Kirin stared at the page and choked back tears.

  Her dad called her princess before her mom died. When had he written it? Years ago or recently? Find the truth. What truth? Why did these words seem so cryptic and even more troubling to her, why did she care?

  “Okay, Princess, your turn.”

  Daddy called out while treading water in the deep end. Her knees trembled. Her pink painted toes curled protectively around the edge of the scratchy diving board.

  “I can’t!” she yelled down to him. “Daddy, I’m scared.”

  “I’m right here,” he pleaded. “And I’ll catch you. Just jump, honey.”

  “Do you promise you’ll catch me, Daddy?”

  “Always.”

  Wiping tears on the back of her sleeve, Kirin skimmed over the book until her eyelids grew too heavy. She fought to keep them open, searching each page for something, anything. Curling into bed, she pulled the covers over her and fell asleep with the lights on, clutching the book.

  ~*~

  The rest of the week flew by in an absolute blur. She tried not to think about the two mobsters but could swear they followed her every move. She wished Sam would magically find her phone number and call. Every night before bed she spent skimming her dad’s book, halfheartedly.

  Saturday began with noise coming from the boys’ room. She opened one eyeball. They’d bolted out of bed with a clatter remembering it was their buddy Sean’s birthday party.

  Kirin met Sean’s mom, Sarah, right after Jack died. She exercised after work one day trying to pretend her world wasn’t falling apart, and Sarah had smiled on the stationary bike next to her. That’s all it took. They struck up a conversation and became fast friends. Sarah was in her early thirties. A sweet, round girl who never wore much makeup. She’d been kind and understanding, listening about Jack.

  Sarah’s son, Sean, turned five and Kirin promised she’d bring Little Jack and Will to the party. Sarah lived west, in a nicer upscale neighborhood where the houses all ha
d brick mailboxes with tiny little lights on top, surrounded by flawless grass.

  Her beautiful home and lawn made Kirin’s farmhouse and pitiful excuse of a flower garden look homely.

  She’d dressed Little Jack in a nice red polo shirt and tan cargo shorts with the bribery of cake and a treat bag. Will wore his usual Saturday outfit of head-to-toe second-hand Under Armor shorts and t-shirt. He snatched his basketball at the last second, ‘in case the party was too babyish.’

  Little Jack bounced in his seat, and Will stared as their car pulled up. Everything from the stylishly covered porch to the large oak tree in the lush front yard was draped in blue balloons and crepe paper. A huge blow-up slide was anchored on the tiny swatch of grass in the front of the house. At least fifteen screaming kids ran around it like bees on a beehive. Jack and Will took off the second they got themselves unstrapped from the car.

  The boys were fearless like Jack. Well, on second thought, maybe like her after fighting the crazy man at the store.

  She smiled as Sam’s handsome face traveled across her mind. How she’d love to sit and have coffee and find out more about him. And get lost in his deep, green eyes.

  A loud gasp snapped her back to the present.

  It came from a woman only a foot away. Kirin followed the woman’s gaze in time to witness her ten-year-old catch air as he flung himself and his little brother down the twenty-foot slide. They both laughed hysterically at the bottom. She pretended it didn’t scare her.

  Kirin grabbed the present out of the car and walked through Sarah’s open door. She shuffled quietly into the front living room. Sarah’s house was understated but had a classic elegance to it, like Sarah. Kirin was green with envy.

  Creamy lamps were placed atop the beautifully handmade wood tables. Pale peach curtains danced from the breeze of the open windows. Every piece of furniture coordinated with the theme. The pictures looked as if they were painted for that room. Kirin knocked her shin on a chunky wood table as she gawked at the room.

  Sarah trotted in carrying a towel. She squealed when she saw her friend as if they were in the third grade. “You’re here!”

  Sarah hadn’t been this excited since Kirin agreed to take a belly dancing class with her at the gym.

  “I have the best news!” she cried.

  Sitting, Kirin grinned wide. Sarah had hinted a few weeks ago, they were trying for another baby.

  Sarah’s brow furrowed, puzzled. “You can’t know this news,” Sarah said, with her hands on her hips.

  Apologetically, Kirin nodded, “Sorry, go ahead.”

  Sarah fell silent for a long minute wiping something sticky off her fingers as if trying to heighten the suspense and then smiled before tumbling into her well-planned monologue.

  “I’ve found… the perfect man for you.”

  Kirin exhaled, “No—”

  “Kirin, he’s amazing!”

  “Please, no—” Kirin begged, but got cut off again.

  “Nope.” Sarah said. “It’s already set up. Next weekend. His name is Pat and y’all will meet at Downtown Grill and Brewery for a beer and dinner. He’s hot. You’re gonna fall for this one. He’s a ranger with the TWRA. He has an amazing personality.”

  The Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency guys always looked as if they’d jumped into a creek with all their clothes on. And they always had some stinky half-dead animal in the back. Great.

  And ‘amazing personality’ was always code for homely.

  But she knew Sarah well enough, there was no point resisting until she stopped talking. Kirin sat still, staring at her friend as Sarah rattled off the guy’s resume like an auctioneer.

  “He’s funny…and oh, he’s one of Tim’s Private Wealth Management clients, which means he’s loaded. He’s tall with brown hair and a great smile. He’s ruggedly cute. Yes, you’re gonna thank me.”

  Kirin groaned. She was armed and ready to barrage Sarah with her host of reasons she didn’t want to go on a blind date when her phone rang. It was Rosa.

  She stared at the phone for a beat. Rosa calling her on a Saturday was odd. She hoped nothing was wrong. Kirin held up one finger and excused herself from Sarah, walking into the foyer.

  “Hello?” she stammered.

  “Kirin?” Rosa sounded out of breath and…different.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh, nothing,” Rosa’s voice sounded strained and unsure. Rosa continued, “Are you guys okay? Everything all right with you and the boys?”

  “Of course,” Kirin scratched her head, “We’re at Sarah’s house. It’s little Sean’s birthday. Where are you?” The noise on the other end of the phone sounded as if she stood in the middle of interstate during rush hour.

  “Oh…ah, out shopping.”

  Now, that was a damn lie. Rosa hated shopping as much as Kirin did, but before she could call her on it, Rosa interrupted, “Kirin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful. I moved your book. It’s where we keep our treats.”

  The line went dead.

  “What the…” Kirin said aloud to nobody and raised her free hand in exasperation.

  Something was wrong. Rosa had acted strange since she got back from LA. She was on edge. And she’d hidden the field manual in random spots. At first, Kirin thought she was losing her mind when it wouldn’t be where she’d left it the day before. It hadn’t dawned on her that Rosa moved it every day.

  Rosa had to know something about this book and the mystery surrounding it. Maybe one of the black suits had approached her? But surely Rosa would’ve mentioned it. Kirin’s belly twisted. If they were bold enough to walk up to Rosa, then they’d have no problem getting closer to her boys. She needed to corner Rosa and make her talk.

  Her world was bordering on bizarre. From the anonymous text on the plane, to being chased inside the airport, and the delivery of the blood-red roses, she felt uneasy in her own skin. And now, with Rosa acting odd, Kirin felt threatened.

  And scared.

  ~*~

  Sarah’s party for Sean went off exactly as planned. First the slide, then a water balloon toss, piñata, cake, and finally, treat bags. The boys said their thanks and goodbyes and ran for the car.

  Little Jack scrambled in and buckled himself into his booster. Sarah must have thought Kirin needed a reminder about her embarrassing blind date. In front of several other women, she stepped out onto the porch and yelled across the front yard, “Don’t forget.! Six o’clock, Friday. Your new man will meet you there!”

  Kirin narrowed her eyes at her friend then stood and yelled across the top of her car, “Great.” Sarah smiled broadly.

  As Kirin opened her car door, a balloon from the party tied to the top of the slide popped. It sounded like a gunshot. All the young guests outside shrieked with shock and delight, while Kirin dove into her car like a stuntwoman.

  Locking the doors and feeling like an idiot, she pulled out of Sarah’s neighborhood and sped home to find answers.

  Chapter Nine

  Through the rearview mirror, Kirin smiled while Little Jack fought his heavy eyelids. Will’s face was etched with concern. He peered out the window and commented several times how fast the trees zoomed past. It was naptime for her youngest and Kirin’s skin crawled on high alert. Something in Rosa’s voice spooked her. Her words were choppy and quick as if she’d seen a ghost.

  As Kirin raced home, a blur of red in her rearview mirror caught her eye. She didn’t even slow down. Sorry, Sam. No time to see if this was him. She was on a mission.

  Kirin pulled into her long, tree-lined driveway as the red truck continued down the main road. She slipped into her garage and shut the doors tight. Ushering the boys inside, she activated the alarm system and laid Little Jack down for a nap. Will plopped onto her bed and started a movie but was out minutes later.

  Trotting downstairs, she headed to the pantry to check for the book. Inside the tiny room the light attached to a motion sensor, engaged. The illumination flickered on a
s it warmed. The top shelf behind the vegetable cans hid an empty spot Rosa and Kirin used to hide treats and chocolate. The little scavengers had never found it. So far.

  Raising up on her tiptoes, she reached behind the cans as her fingers touched the tattered binding of her father’s book. Her hand slid from the book to something cold and hard. Steel.

  A gun.

  Rosa had stashed one of Jack’s loaded guns in the pantry.

  Kirin’s hand recoiled as if she’d touched something hot. She stood with her mouth open, lost in her own questions.

  Rosa hated guns. Why would she put it there?

  What was so important about this stupid book that made her father’s secretary afraid to hand it to her? Those strange men ogled her at the funeral as if they knew something she didn’t. And why had they chased her at the airport? So aggressive for a public place. They must’ve wanted the book badly.

  Or her.

  Even as Kirin shook her head in confusion, she knew. In the pit of her stomach, she knew something lurked inside the book. Something others wanted.

  Information “they” didn’t want her to find and her father desperately wanted her to figure out. She’d already scanned the book halfheartedly but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It appeared to be a regular old worn-out Marine Corps Field Manual. Determined to figure this out, she made coffee, sat down in her favorite yellow chair and meticulously searched each page.

  She took her time. Reading every line on every page. And there, she noticed something strange. On one page, between the lines of the manual, she found a long string of neatly handprinted numbers: three numbers and a dot, three more numbers and a dot, one number and a dot, then three more numbers. She scribbled them in her notebook.

  This sequence felt familiar, but she couldn’t place it. It’d take digging to figure out what those numbers meant, but at least she’d found something. Then oddly enough, three random pages had been ripped out of the book. Page 43, 167, and 288 were missing. She read the text before and after the missing pages to determine if they had any significance but found nothing.