If Alvaro’s audit found even a single mistake in Wallace’s files, it could destroy everything.
Jennifer was panicking.
She’d said there were things Wallace didn’t know about. And he would just have to trust her the way she was trusting him to clean this mess up. Fifteen particular files had to be erased, and Jennifer had given him very clear instructions to just get it done. Then get through the next seven days or so without making waves or drawing attention his way. She was trusting him, she’d said.
“Starting the final portion Monday. Rafe is wanting to finish with surgical and anesthesiology. Give it a deeper review.” Allen’s face tightened. “After everything that’s happened.”
He shot a look at Dr. Alvaro. But the other man didn’t seem to be paying much attention to Wallace.
“Totally understand. I’ll finish up here, then make my rounds at FCGH.” If he hurried, he’d maybe make it back to have a short word with Dr. Netorre. “The surgery? I have an opening tomorrow at ten a.m.”
Allen nodded. “It’s probably best to do it as quickly as possible. But I want to wait, give the antibiotics time to work on the swelling. Ten should work just fine.”
Allen excused himself. Wallace was ready to find his own office and get started on what he needed to do, too. “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten, then.”
“That works,” Dr. Alvaro said before Allen left. “Jacobson? Do me a favor? Tell Nikkie Jean she’ll be seeing me soon.”
Wallace bit back a curse. The last thing he needed was Alvaro putting things together with Nikkie Jean. If she was in contact with her father, and he chimed in, the house of cards wouldn’t just fall apart, it would be completely destroyed. There were things Jordan Carrington probably knew about that could be very, very bad for Wallace. Things that could ruin everything.
60
“WE’RE GETTING CLOSER,” Thor told Caine over lunch a few days after the MVA. “We’ll have your answers soon.”
“Anything standing out?” To be honest, Caine hadn’t had much time to think about the audit and its ramifications.
He had had three sick children and a sick uncle recovering from what he strongly suspected had been food poisoning to focus on. They were finally back up to near-full speed. The children were all cranky from having been cooped up too long, but Caine finally felt like he could take a breather.
Maybe.
He still had one Nikkie Jean Netorre to hunt.
The woman was avoiding him again.
It hadn’t surprised him. She had a habit of retreating every time something significant occurred.
The night of the MVA had been something significant between them, and they both knew it.
Her text responses had changed in tone since then, too. Some of the snark was gone. And she had actually texted him first for the past few nights.
Conversations. Not just two- or three-word responses.
She’d wanted to know how the children were doing, how Henry was.
How Caine was.
He’d wanted to know how she was. Whether she was resting. What she was craving. Just anything he could ask her.
But that was one thing—pinning her down to actually see him again was another.
He hadn’t quite figured out what to do about that yet.
“You with me, Alvaro?”
Caine tuned back in. “Sorry. Got distracted. I have a lot on my plate right now.”
“No kidding. I’m heading over to Finley Creek to do some poking around. I’m not so sure this Ralstone is the guy you’re after. There are a few others with discrepancies that might be more…fruitful avenues to pursue. Can you give the guy over there a heads-up? I don’t want to step on any toes.”
“Let me make a call. I’ll get you in the door with the COM.”
“Oh yeah, the long-lost twin. So how’s that working out for you?”
Caine shot him a look. “None of your damned business.”
“Hey, you helped me save my little brother’s ass from the fire. I figure I owe you one for that. If that means poking into your business, then I am all up for it.”
“He’s halfway decent. Good friends with the woman I’m involved with.”
“Oh? Tell me about her.”
“Not yet.” Thor was worse than any gossip he’d ever seen. Always wanting the goods. But he wasn’t ready to talk about Nikkie Jean fully yet. “She’s over there, in pediatric surgery. Works directly with Ralstone and some of the other men on that list.”
Thor swore. “Then I’ll make sure not to make any waves. Keep your lady as safe as possible.”
“See that you do. Or I’ll finally have to kick your ass.”
61
WALLACE WATCHED HER AGAIN, just a few hours after he’d left Barratt County. Nikkie Jean Netorre was scurrying across the parking lot. She did remind him of a little mouse at times. He was pleased to see that she was moving a bit better than she had been.
She’d tossed the crutches aside pretty early on. She was just stubborn enough to think she didn’t need them. He was glad to see she was doing ok.
He hadn’t seen Nikkie Jean much since his return from vacation. But he’d found himself thinking of her while sitting on the beach with Jennifer. He hadn’t anything else to do with his time. He’d left everything back at the hotel to spend the time with his wife. Jennifer hadn’t been that interested. At least not in him. Her cell phone had gotten more of her attention than he had.
Wallace had tried not to let that sting. Was it so wrong to want his wife’s attention on him for the one week they had had together in years? Reggie had paid a pretty penny for this trip for their anniversary.
Wallace hadn’t wanted to pick a fight with his wife. Not there on a public beach.
The young woman nearby with her husband and two small children had looked a great deal like Nikkie Jean. Wallace had watched her from behind his sunglasses. Poor woman had her hands full, with two young children under four. The husband didn’t seem that engaged. But the woman handled things well. She was pretty, warm, welcoming. Very sexy in that real woman way.
Wallace had enjoyed watching her. It had brought Nikkie Jean to his thoughts. He’d thought about that woman for several hours. So long he’d forgotten to reapply sunscreen.
His skin had twinged for three days after that.
Nikkie Jean sent a leery look around the parking lot. Wallace sped up. He hated that she was as afraid as she was. Rumor mill had it that something extremely traumatic had to have happened to the girl to make her that skittish of men.
Wallace had seen it himself. She avoided being alone with every man in the building except patients, Rafael Holden-Deane, Virat Patel, and Allen Jacobson. And even the last two were rarely. The only man she truly seemed to trust was Dr. Holden-Deane.
Probably because he was safe due to his obvious fascination with that little redheaded vixen nurse of his.
Nikkie Jean wouldn’t be alone with Wallace at all.
He had his suspicions why. He couldn’t remember all the details—he and Jennifer had moved away a few years before it had happened—but he vaguely recalled there being an assault of some sort in the Carrington home.
He’d seen sexual assault victims before. That was one of the things the rumor mill had speculated on.
Wallace frowned as he thought about that. Nikkie Jean was such a little thing. It would be easy for someone to overpower and hurt her.
To have it happen in her own home like the rumors had said—it was horrific. It made him feel even more protective of her. No wonder she was so frightened.
He’d overplayed his hand a few months ago. Since then, she’d avoided him at almost all costs. But there was no way he was going to let her cross that back parking lot near Boethe Street alone. Cherise, the nursing supervisor, had been mugged in that very spot. “Dr. Netorre! Wait for a moment!”
She turned, shooting him a weary look. She had her bag clutched tightly in one hand, and her phone in the other. No doubt it was r
eady to dial 911 at a moment’s notice. Not that it would do much good back here. The TSP was almost notoriously slow at responding to this section of Boethe Street.
Which had never made much sense to him—the city was less than sixty thousand people. It wasn’t like this area was as bad as an inner-city block. He and Jennifer had started their married life in Philadelphia—that city was much worse than little Finley Creek.
It was just Boethe Street.
She waited for him but he easily sensed the fear. He cursed himself lightly for his rush to show her his interest last time. Nikkie Jean Netorre needed a slow-and-steady courtship to get her past her fears. He knew that.
He’d just always been so impatient. Especially with beautiful women. But his attraction was waning, being replaced with something else.
Something more protective. Almost paternal. He almost felt like he owed Jordan something; the man had gotten Wallace through medical school after all.
“Hello, Dr. Henedy. I believe Dr. Holden-Deane was looking for you a few minutes ago.”
“Yes. He found me. Questions about billing over five years ago. I’m having one of the admins locate the files. I believe we’re updating the billing system, finally. It should have been done…five years ago.”
Wallace refused to worry about what would be found. The excess charges he’d been including on each bill added up to less than four percent. He wasn’t stupid. But that four percent had gone straight to his own bank account through the years. It had paid for his son’s education and every luxury Jennifer had wanted.
It had never directly affected his patients. Wallace wouldn’t do that to the people he helped.
But the insurance companies would have had to keep excellent records to be able to find his little hobby. No matter what Jennifer thought.
Wallace just had to get through the next nine days. Then he should be in the clear. And be able to do some better creative accounting after this audit ended. “I’m glad to see he’s moving Finley Creek into the twenty-first century. A few decades late, but…”
She smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “He’s a great COM.”
“Much better than Daniels.” He almost winced as he said it. Dr. Daniels had been a friend of his. Maybe Daniels hadn’t been the smartest when it came to women, but he’d been reasonably efficient at running the hospital. What he’d done to some of the nurses couldn’t be condoned though.
“I didn’t work here then,” she said, still eyeing him nervously.
“You really shouldn’t walk out here alone. Let me walk you to your car.”
“Thank you. I usually walk with Izzie and Annie, but they’re both still on the clock again.”
They started across the parking lot. Wallace made a point of not looking at how closely she still clutched her phone.
It didn’t matter that she knew him—many women were attacked by men they knew, compared to those that they didn’t know. And she already knew he was interested in her. His foolish mistake.
“So how did Annie’s protest go? I asked my wife if she’d heard anything about Boethe Street, but she hadn’t.” A lie. He hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort to Jennifer.
He’d learned a long time ago to never mention women he worked with to Jennifer.
That was one thing she didn’t want to know. Even the knowledge that there were female physicians in his department had infuriated her.
He’d never understood why. He’d always been careful to keep his little distractions quiet.
He’d never want Jennifer to know that he’d found sexual satisfaction elsewhere. That would just hurt her.
He remembered the first time she’d ever asked him if she was enough for him in bed. She had been twenty. He’d been an older twenty-five and felt so mature. So protective.
He’d been her first and only.
Of course, she’d been enough for him.
Until she’d stopped caring whether they had sex together or not.
“I’m always glad to walk you, or anyone else for that matter, to your car at night. I can’t forget what happened to Lacy Deane and Logan Lanning out here. Nor what happened to Cherise. I wouldn’t want my wife walking across this parking lot at night. I’m hopeful the mayor’s initiative will make a huge difference in this part of the town.” He would just keep mentioning Jennifer, make Nikkie Jean see that he didn’t mean her any harm. He was just a harmless family man, looking out for the young women in his department.
“As long as it doesn’t keep evicting people who have nowhere else to go,” Dr. Netorre said. “There’s my Jeep. Thank you for the escort, Dr. Henedy. It’s appreciated. I can’t always see that well in low light. Thanks again.”
“No thanks necessary. I was already heading this direction. I’m a few spaces up. Get in and lock your doors, ok? I’ll stick around until you’re out of the parking lot.”
She nodded and hit the button to unlock her door. “Good night, Doctor. And thank you for the escort.”
Wallace knew when it was time to pull back. He deliberately put space between them. Make her feel safe; that was his goal.
“Have a safe trip, Dr. Netorre. I need to be going. My wife and I have special plans this evening.”
“Enjoy.”
She practically dove into her Jeep.
Wallace bit back a smile at how nervous she was.
He waited until she pulled out before heading up the aisle to his own SUV. It took him a moment to remember that he hadn’t asked her about her association with Dr. Alvaro. He’d wanted to go fishing, see just how close she was to the other man.
Movement to the left of his car had him pausing.
“Wallace…”
He recognized the voice. She’d always had a voice like smooth sex.
Connie Addis stood next to his car for the second time in less than a week, her eyes following Nikkie Jean’s little purple SUV as it pulled out of the parking lot.
“Is that my replacement?” There was a hard edge to her voice that he didn’t like. But Connie always had been insecure. “A little young. What is she? Fifteen?”
He had tried to break things off with her two months or so ago. After he’d first walked Nikkie Jean to her car. Connie wasn’t taking his hints. The calls and emails were one thing, but she’d taken to showing up at FCGH and County. Without being asked.
She was becoming more of a problem. And Wallace couldn’t handle the stress of Connie on top of both Rafael Holden-Deane and Caine Alvaro.
“I’m not replacing you, Connie. But it was always meant to be temporary. I told you that up front, going in.” Wallace kept his tone firm. He’d played out this scene at least two dozen times over the last twenty years. He could handle her, despite the rest of the stress flooding his life.
“Maybe I’m not ready for things to end. I’m…in love with you, Wallace. I have been since the moment you walked into the ER my first week at Barratt County.”
She was only thirty-two, attractive but not stunningly so. Tall and curved in all the right places. There was another man out there for her. Wallace was just an interlude while she waited.
Wallace almost told her that, but he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. He hated it when they developed feelings for him. Hated it. He always warned them not to do that.
He loved Jennifer; he always would.
Connie’s hand wrapped around his arm, and she pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his. Just as Nikkie Jean’s distinctive Jeep made the final turn out of the parking lot.
Wallace winced.
No doubt Nikkie Jean had seen the exact thing he didn’t want her to. Again. And she’d been far closer this time.
He pulled back. “I love my wife, Connie. I’ve told you that before. What you and I had was special, but not as special as what I have created with my wife.”
“Maybe I’ll tell your wife. Let her decide whether it’s time you left her or not. Or tell Dr. Alvaro just what you’ve been up to through the years at Barratt Cou
nty. I’ve seen your journals. You really shouldn’t leave them in your messenger bag when you come to my apartment. I might get curious. I might learn things. Eighty thousand dollars for an appendectomy? For shame.”
Desperation. It was in her voice.
It had always turned him off. “Connie…”
“I…I think I may be pregnant, Wallace. What am I supposed to do now?”
Well, hell. What was Wallace supposed to do now? This was the last thing Jennifer needed. He had to clean up this mess, somehow.
Even if it meant just giving Connie what she wanted for right now.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, feeling the inevitable stirring of his body as he did so.
Maybe he wouldn’t end things with her just yet.
62
CLEAN UP YOUR MESSES. That was what Jennifer had yelled at him the last time they had argued. She’d meant with the hospital billing issues. He’d made the mistake of confessing all to her, about the money he’d been siphoning from the insurance companies for two decades.
The money hadn’t mattered to her, she’d said. Making certain that it didn’t come up before the mayoral election she was running in soon was what mattered.
Public perception. That was what mattered to her now, rather than Wallace’s career. Just where he ranked in priorities for Jennifer wasn’t lost to him.
So why in the hell was he in this position for her again?
He lifted Connie’s body as quickly as he could.
He had to find a way to get rid of her. Without anyone seeing.
There were TSP deputies out everywhere, patrolling during the approaching storms like they always did.
Her head lolled back, long, blond-streaked brown hair falling over his elbow. It was nearly the same shade as Nikkie Jean’s. A moment of regret hit him.
He hadn’t meant to kill her.
And she had slapped him first. He hadn’t meant to call her Nikkie Jean. That had been his first mistake.
Lost in the Wind Page 23
