CHAPTER FOUR
A heavy knock sounded at the door, and Samantha jerked back just when Ethan had thought things were about to get interesting.
“Sam?” a voice called through the door. “Are you in there?”
Samantha scrambled to her feet and muttered, “Thank God they found us.” But Ethan frowned as she rushed toward the door and yelled, “We’re in here!”
He definitely didn’t want to get stuck in a cramped closet all night, but the heat in the sexy chemistry teacher’s eyes when she’d looked at him a minute ago almost made him think she’d been about to kiss him. And even with the head wound and sore back and his crappy history in this town, he wouldn’t have minded one bit if she had.
The lock turned, and the door hissed open, followed by light flooding the small room. Ethan blinked twice and averted his eyes from the blinding glare.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Burke. That was Principal Burke’s voice. Wincing at the pain, Ethan held the rag against his head and slowly pushed to his feet.
“We were locked in,” Samantha said. “Dr. McClane was talking to me in the hall when we heard the break-in. He followed me into the supply closet when I went to see if anything was damaged, and then someone locked us in.”
Ethan stepped over cracked bottles and plastic canisters into the trashed classroom. Burke’s gaze shot from Samantha to Ethan, focusing on the bloody rag against Ethan’s forehead. “What the hell happened to you?”
Ethan opened his mouth to answer, but Samantha cut him off when she said, “The shelving unit came down. David, someone unbolted it from the wall. That thing never moves.”
Burke glanced around the messy room and sighed. When his gaze swung back to Samantha, though, his expression hardened. “Sam, your arm’s bleeding.”
“I am?” Samantha looked down, and for the first time, Ethan noticed her jacket was torn, and that blood welled from a cut in her biceps.
Ethan’s stomach tightened as she struggled out of her coat. Moving back into the closet, Ethan grabbed another towel, came back, and handed it to her.
Samantha took the towel and pressed it against her wound. “Thanks.”
“Annette?” Burke pressed the phone on Sam’s desk to his ear. “Get paramedics over here. Then call the police. We’ve had a break-in.”
While Burke relayed what had happened, Ethan’s gaze skipped over Samantha. Chocolate curls had slipped free from the clip at the base of Samantha’s neck, framing her features in wisps and corkscrews. Some kind of white powder dusted her hair, and her face screamed of frustration and stress, but those eyes . . . they were just as mesmerizing as they’d been before. And even though his head hurt like a bitch, Ethan felt himself being sucked back under her spell all over again. “You wasted time tending my injury when you had one yourself?”
“I didn’t feel it.” One corner of her lips curled. And though he tried not to notice, he couldn’t totally ignore the way her breasts pushed together under the thin white tank when she moved her arm to check the blood on the towel. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”
Yes, they absolutely did. “I—”
“Paramedics are on their way,” Burke said as he hung up the phone. “Both of you head up to the office. Police should be here any minute.”
“David, I don’t need an ambula—”
Burke frowned. “Don’t argue, Sam. You’re covered in God only knows what, and you probably need a tetanus shot.” Looking toward Ethan, Burke added, “Hell of a first day for you, Dr. McClane.”
“Technically not even my first day.” Ethan stepped around downed tables and chairs and followed Burke and Samantha toward the door. She’d draped her jacket over her forearm, leaving her shoulders bare and the tank molding to her curves, and he thoroughly enjoyed the view of her ass way more than he probably should. Especially knowing she’d been hurt.
He cleared his throat, focusing on Burke instead of the sway of Samantha’s luscious hips. “How did you find us?”
“Janitor came in and saw the mess, called in the break-in. I rushed over from the district office.”
Ethan nodded, happy they’d been found, but also disappointed he hadn’t had more time alone with Samantha.
Their shoes clicked down the wide hall as Burke asked them both questions about what they’d seen when they’d first come into the room. By the time they reached the office, the ambulance was just pulling up out front in the darkening light.
Paramedics rushed in and ushered them toward the vehicles. Samantha continued to protest that she didn’t need first aid, but when she pulled the cloth away and Ethan caught a glimpse at the gash on the back of her arm, he couldn’t stop himself from muttering, “Let the poor guy do his job, Ms. Parker.”
She shot him a challenging look but finally climbed in and sat on the padded bench.
Heat gathered in Ethan’s belly while he followed and sat beside her. She was definitely feisty. And high-strung. And he liked both things about her. Liked them a lot more than he probably should.
The paramedic checked the wound on Ethan’s forehead, and as another tended Samantha’s wound, he took a good long look at her under the ambulance lights. The woman had great shoulders. Strong, toned, feminine. And the contrast between light and dark where her curly hair fell over her bare skin was more than captivating. But aside from her good looks, she was tough. He’d seen it in the way she’d rushed into her room during the break-in. Granted, that had been reckless, and she could have been seriously hurt, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who backed down from a fight. And he couldn’t help but be awed by that trait.
“You’re going to need stitches,” the paramedic told him. “I’m closing the wound with butterfly bandages until we get to the hospital.”
Wonderful. A hospital. Just how he wanted to spend his evening. “I left my bag inside. I need to—”
“David will get it,” Samantha said beside him as the EMT tending her moved out of the truck.
Ethan looked back at her, and like they had before, those eyes sent a jolt straight through him. The memory of the way she’d looked at him in the white light of that closet made him want things he knew he shouldn’t. Things he had not come to Hidden Falls to find.
He tried to remember what they were talking about. His bag. Yeah, that was it. “There are case files in there that I—”
“Sam,” a voice said from outside the open ambulance doors. “Are you okay?”
They both looked toward the blond man dressed in blue standing in a circle of light just outside the open ambulance doors.
“Will.” Samantha’s features relaxed. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here.” She nodded Ethan’s way. “This is Dr. McClane. Ethan, this is Will Branson.”
Ethan froze, and a knot formed in his stomach. And everything else—the break-in, his injury, what the hell he was doing in this town, even Samantha Parker’s hypnotic eyes—fell to the wayside.
Because in that moment he wasn’t thirty-one anymore. He was thirteen and trying hard to fit in with a group of kids that had altered the course of his life.
Sam sat on the side of a bed in an emergency room bay and waited while the doctor finished stitching up her arm. She’d had to argue until she was blue in the face that she didn’t need a shower. The chemicals that had fallen on her and Ethan were mostly harmless ones, such as sodium chloride and ammonium sulfate. She kept the really dangerous stuff locked in a separate cupboard.
She had no idea what was happening back at school, and part of her didn’t want to know. All she wanted to do was get home, see Grimly, and fall asleep for a week. Oh, and make sure Dr. McClane—no, Ethan—was okay.
Her pulse ticked up at just the thought of him. Beside her, the doctor looked down at her arm. “You okay?”
Her cheeks heated when she realized he must have felt it too. “Yeah. Fine. Just anxious to go home.”
The doctor applied the last bandage and finally let go of her arm. “Try to keep it
dry. I’m writing a script for antibiotics just in case. If you have any problems, call your primary care doctor or come back and see us if it’s after hours.”
She thanked him, climbed off the bed, and reached for her jacket. Cringing at the burn in her arm, she slid her arms into the sleeves and was just fixing the collar when footsteps shuffled from the doorway.
“All done?” Ethan asked.
Sam’s stomach flipped. He’d obviously argued his way out of a shower too, because his hair was still dusted in fine white powder, making him look more gray than dark. A bandage covered the right side of his forehead, and the left shoulder of his white dress shirt was stained pink.
For a moment, worry rippled through her as she mentally cataloged what had been on those shelves. Then she realized it had to be sodium nitrite. Pink salt. Definitely safe. She breathed easier. “Yeah. Just. You?”
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “Good to go.”
She was suddenly aware of the width of his shoulders, the way he filled the doorway to her room and seemed to suck up all the air in the space. And her nerves tightened when she remembered leaning over him in that closet, the way he’d looked up at her, the sincerity in his eyes, and how much she’d wanted to kiss him in that moment.
Which—she knew now—was completely and utterly insane and only went one step further in proving she was walking on very shaky mental ground.
She pulled her sleeve down and averted her gaze. Reminded herself to be smart. “How many stitches?”
“Six.”
“You got me beat. I only needed four.”
She stepped toward the door. He eased back to let her pass, but their shoulders brushed, and heat slid all along her skin where they touched, sending tiny tingles through her whole body. Tingles she liked way too much.
“I was wondering if you wanted to split a cab back to the school,” he said. “I’m guessing your car’s there?”
A cab ride alone with him in the dark? Where they’d talk more, and she’d find out he really was a nice guy, not the slimy shrink she wanted him to be? If she were a normal woman, she’d say yes. He was hot, and she was picking up all kinds of interested vibes. But she wasn’t normal, and killing this wild attraction was the best thing she could do. For both of them.
“I—”
“Sam.” Will’s voice down the corridor drew Sam around, and relief spread through her at the perfectly timed interruption.
“Will,” she said. “Hey.”
Concern furrowed his blond brow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just a couple of stitches. No big deal.”
Will nodded, but the concern in his eyes didn’t lessen, and Sam’s anxiety ramped up in the silence that followed. He wasn’t just the chief of police; he’d been her brother’s best friend when they were kids, and that made him her oldest friend too. In fact, he’d done more for her over the years than anyone in this backward town, even her mother, which made him the one person she knew she could depend on when things got rough. And she’d done just that for the last few days. Probably more than she should have, because lately she’d been getting the feeling he wanted more. And she didn’t know how to handle that knowledge.
Feeling awkward, Sam turned toward Ethan. “We’re both okay.”
Ethan didn’t answer, but Sam noticed his suddenly tight jawline and narrowed eyes. Eyes that only a minute ago had been deep emerald pools.
“I need to ask you both a few questions,” Will said before Sam could ask Ethan what was wrong.
They stepped back into her room, and she waited while Will pulled a pad of paper from his back pocket, switching from concerned friend to chief of police. “We’re running fingerprints, but you had a hundred kids in that room today—”
“Closer to two hundred,” Sam clarified.
“Right. Which means prints aren’t going to tell us a whole lot. We’re also conducting a locker check but don’t expect to find much as the break-in happened after hours. Tell me what you saw when you went in the room.”
Sam relayed for Will what she and Ethan had found and how they’d ended up in the closet. Will jotted notes. But when he looked up at her, his hazel eyes softened, as if he were speaking to a child. “Sam, honey. There was nothing written on your whiteboard.”
“What?” Sam’s gaze snapped to Ethan, then back to Will. “It was there. I swear. I didn’t make that up. It was there, just like the window.”
Ethan glanced her way. “What window?”
Sam’s stomach tightened, but before she could answer, Will said, “Sam’s had some kids harassing her at home. Pranks. Nothing serious.”
“Breaking into my house is not a prank.”
Will sighed as he tucked the notebook in his back pocket. “There was no sign of B&E at your house last night, Sam.”
“That’s because whoever did it washed the window before you got there. Just like they obviously wiped the board after they locked us in that closet.”
When Will didn’t answer, incredulity spread through her. He was supposed to be the one person left on her side. “Are you implying we locked ourselves in that closet? Trashed my room just for the fun of it? Is that what you’re saying to me, Will?”
Will rubbed a hand down her good arm, placating her. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just think with everything going on, you might not be remembering clearly and—”
“I saw the note on the whiteboard,” Ethan said. “It was written in red and said ‘take the hint.’” He looked Sam’s way with concerned green eyes. “What hint?”
Sam’s pulse skipped. What was it about this guy that affected her so? It had started when he’d walked into the office as she’d been arguing with David and only seemed to be growing stronger. “I . . . whoever’s been coming by my house spelled out the word ‘leave’ in white plastic forks last week.”
Ethan’s gaze shifted back to Will. “Leave? And you don’t think that’s related to the break-in at the school?”
Will’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t say it wasn’t related. I said it wasn’t breaking and entering.”
“What about the teacher she replaced? The one who had the nervous breakdown?”
A vein in Will’s temple pulsed, and the animosity on his face said he didn’t like being told how to do his job. “I’ve got an officer on the way out to his place right now. If he’s involved we’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze swung back to Sam, effectively dismissing Ethan. “I want you to make me a list of any kids you’ve had issues with lately. And I know you’re tired, but I need you to go back up to the school and walk through your room with me. We need a detailed list of anything that’s missing.”
Sam’s shoulders slumped. There went her plan to sleep for a week.
The phone on Will’s hip went off. Tension radiated from his shoulders as he lifted it to his ear, then pulled the receiver away from his mouth and said, “I need to take this. I’ve got an officer out front ready to take you back up to the high school.”
He flicked Ethan another hard look, one Ethan returned, then turned away.
Sam stepped past Ethan, more frustrated than she’d been all day, and headed for the parking lot. Ethan followed, and in the silence Sam knew she needed to say something, but she didn’t know what. Wasn’t sure what to think either. Had those words really been there? Was she making it all up? She couldn’t be. This wasn’t just in her head. Ethan had seen them.
“Are you sure you’re okay going back to your house alone?” Ethan asked.
The tingles spreading up her arm made Sam realize Ethan was touching her, and she stopped and looked up at him. “What?”
“Someone’s obviously trying to send you a message.”
Yeah, someone was. But she wasn’t about to let some stupid kid push her around. And, oh man, his hand felt really good. “I’m fine.”
“Samantha—”
God, she liked the way he said her name. Her full name. No one called h
er by her full name here. No one anywhere ever really had. She’d always been Sam, or Sami, or—in the case of her students—hey, you.
He’s a shrink, a voice whispered in the back of her head. Be careful.
“I’m fine,” she said again. “If Will thinks the previous teacher is involved, he’ll take care of it. He’s got someone on the way out to his house. I’m not worried.”
But a tiny space deep inside was worried. And she knew that worry was going to trigger her nightmares and keep her from sleeping again tonight.
Something hardened in Ethan’s expression as he looked back toward the emergency room doors. Sam wondered if the look had to do with Will or being around cops in general.
Not her problem, she told herself as she forced a smile she didn’t feel. The sooner she got away from Ethan McClane and this combustible heat brewing between them, the better off she’d be.
Through the glass doors, she spotted the police car waiting out front. “We should head back so you can get your car.”
He nodded, and they moved toward the main double doors. But just as they reached them, Will’s voice called, “Dr. McClane.”
They both turned, but this time Will was focused only on Ethan.
“Yeah?” Ethan said beside her.
“I need you to come with me.”
“What for?”
“Officers found a key in Thomas Adler’s locker. Your kid. Looks to be a copy of the key to Sam’s classroom.”
Oh shit. Sam’s stomach lurched into her throat. Not Thomas . . .
Will’s jaw clenched down. Hard. “They just picked him up for questioning.”
Bitter fingers of denial clawed at Ethan as he stood in the interrogation room, staring down at Thomas. This day was turning into a never-ending nightmare. Two days ago, if someone had told him he’d be working with William Branson, in any way, he’d have said they were flippin’ nuts. The reality that he was now voluntarily helping the man sent an acidic burn straight through his gut.
Repressed (Deadly Secrets) Page 4
