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Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2)

Page 19

by Christie Craig


  She yawned, claimed the chair, and pulled her knees up. Only the tips of her flip-flops and her smiley-faced toes peered out from under her pink nightgown.

  “You tired?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  A man wearing a white coat appeared at the door. “I’m Dr. Hernandez.”

  “Can we talk out there?” Juan gave a slight nod to Bell. “I’ll be right out the door.”

  The doctor stepped back into the hallway.

  “Please tell me she’s okay,” Juan said in a quiet voice.

  “We don’t know yet. She has a temperature of a hundred and five. We’re trying to get that down. We’ve started her on some broad-spectrum antibiotics. I was told she was throwing up.”

  “Yes, she thought it was a virus. Her little girl had one.”

  “Is her daughter okay?”

  “She seems okay.” He suddenly felt gut-punched. “But you should check her, too.”

  “I’ll have the nurse assess her. How long has the patient been like this?”

  “I don’t know. I saw her around six this evening. She was throwing up then. I know she worked today, so I don’t think she was too sick.” He filled the doctor in on everything he knew.

  The man nodded. “She’s semiconscious, but still out of it. Did she have diarrhea? Was she drinking fluids?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I brought them ginger ale.”

  “We’ve pulled some blood to see if there’s an infection going on. It’s not back yet. I don’t think this is just a virus. I mean, the fever could be due to dehydration. But I’m worried about septic shock.”

  “What is that?” Juan asked.

  “It means an infection has gotten into her blood.”

  “How serious is it?” Juan asked.

  “Serious,” the doctor said. “I’m not saying it’s gone that far yet. We’ve taken a culture, but—”

  “I want to go see my mama,” Bell cried. Both the doctor and Juan turned to see her standing at the door, listening. “Now!”

  “You’ll be able to see her soon.” The doctor touched her forehead. “Were you sick earlier?”

  She nodded. “The nurse said it was a stomach virus.”

  “You went to the doctor?” the man asked.

  “No. A nurse at school.”

  The man smiled at her. “Was your mama sick with it, too?”

  Bell nodded.

  The doctor looked at Juan. “Maybe I’m wrong and this is just a virus.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Bell asked.

  The doctor touched her shoulder. “We’re trying to make her better now.”

  “You have to make her better!” Sobbing, Bell turned around and buried her face against Juan’s leg. “She can’t die!”

  Juan picked Bell up again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and continued sobbing.

  The doctor sent Juan a look of apology. “You can hang out in the waiting room. I’ll let you know as soon as I learn something. The kid looks fine. I wouldn’t worry about her.”

  Juan, with a crying Bell, sat down on one of the love seats in the ER lobby. He tried comforting her, but she pushed his hand away. “I want my mama,” she wept over and over again.

  A couple of people in the waiting room stared at him as if it was his job to console her, and he was failing miserably.

  And he was. He didn’t know what to do. Bell’s sobs yanked at his heart. He kept whispering to her that it was going to be okay. After a good ten minutes, her sobs quieted, though tears still slipped down her cheeks. She started rubbing her eyes. She looked exhausted. He knew how she felt. She finally closed her eyes. But even in her sleep, she whimpered.

  When that stopped, he felt a wave of relief, but it immediately vanished when he realized a bigger problem. What was he going to do with Bell tonight? And tomorrow?

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. His thoughts went to his daughter and Angie, then to seeing Bates lying in a puddle of blood. Logically, he knew he’d played no part in her getting shot. Emotionally, he felt it was on him. Had Bates gone into surgery?

  When he’d moved his car, he’d seen Connor’s truck. So Connor was still here. Juan should call him, check in, apologize for running out. But he’d have to get his phone out of his jeans pocket, and with Bell’s head on his leg, that might wake her. He looked down at the child again. His chest knotted.

  “Juan?”

  He looked up. As if he’d summoned him, Connor walked over.

  “What are you…?” Connor’s gaze fell to Bell.

  “My neighbor. I had to bring her in.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Could be flu. But they’re worried she might have a serious blood infection.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “They don’t know yet. How’s Cindy?” Juan asked.

  Connor took the chair beside him. “She pulled through the surgery, but it’s still touch-and-go. They said the bullet to the head didn’t do much damage. It was the one in the chest that was the problem.”

  “Did her sister show up?”

  “No.”

  “Did we get anything on the suspect’s car?”

  “Not yet.” He glanced at Bell. “So that’s your…neighbor’s kid?” Connor asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Does she have family here?”

  “I don’t think so.” Juan ran a hand over his chin.

  Connor’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I…don’t know how to care for a kid.”

  Connor looked at Bell, then back up at him. “Not for nothing, but you seem to be doing a pretty good job.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. She cried herself to sleep,” he said quietly.

  “You could call Child Protective Services.”

  Juan flinched. “Her mom’s sick, not abandoning her.”

  Connor’s phone rang. He shot up and walked a few feet away to answer it. Connor talked for a few minutes, then eased over to Juan. “They found the car. But our suspect is gone.”

  “Shit!” Juan said.

  A woman sitting across from him shot him a look that said a man with a kid in his lap shouldn’t talk like that, and she was right.

  “I’m going to go make sure they check it for prints.”

  Juan nodded.

  “Call me if you need anything.” Connor left.

  Ten minutes later, the doctor walked out the door of the ER and came right toward him.

  And from his expression, he didn’t have good news.

  * * *

  Pablo had gone through every box, every old suitcase and plastic container in Dan Jefferies’s storage unit. Not only wasn’t his money here, there wasn’t even anything that appeared to belong to Vicki or Alison. He picked up a box and shook the contents. Not even a goddamned thing worth selling.

  Why the hell would Jefferies rent a storage unit to store a bunch of shit? Looking around, he decided that maybe coming here hadn’t been a waste of time after all. If Jefferies recognized him, the man would have to die. And that storage unit could be a convenient place to dispose of the body.

  He dropped down in a chair and raked all ten fingers through his hair. Then, pulling his phone out to check the time, he saw he’d missed a text from Rex.

  It read: Need you and Antonio to do a pickup. Come see me.

  “Why? So you can cheat me out of more money? Fuck you!”

  Then again, if it was a pickup, he’d be carrying cash to pay for the purchase. Maybe he’d do this job after all. Maybe it was time for him to shit or get off the pot.

  He needed money now. Why not just take it? Fuck Rex.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vicki woke up hearing voices, distant but close. Low but loud. Clear but garbled. She was here but not. A beeping echoed in the background. She concentrated on the annoying noise. Then in some distant part of her brain, she remembered she was supposed to wake up to check on Bell. Bell had
a fever. They’d both been sick. Vicki needed to make sure Bell didn’t need more medicine.

  Vicki tried to blink away the confusion, to wipe clean the blurry feeling messing with her mind.

  “Ms. Hanson?”

  She nodded. She finally was able to focus. A man stood over her. Dark eyes, dark hair. Pablo? Panic filled her and she fought to sit up.

  “No. Relax.” Hands came down on her shoulders and held her back.

  She blinked again. Her vision focused. Not Pablo. The smells in the room invaded her senses. The sterile scent took her straight to Alison. To her being hooked up on life support. To Alison being unplugged because there was no brain activity. To her sister being dead. Murdered. To Vicki’s last promise she’d made to her comatose sister. To take care of her daughter. She reached up for her necklace. It wasn’t there.

  “I’m Dr. Hernandez. You need—”

  “My…my daughter?” she said. “Where is she?”

  “She’s okay,” the man said. “You’re in the hospital. You’re—”

  “Where’s my daughter?” she asked again, pushing the doctor’s hands away.

  “Your neighbor has your daughter. Let’s worry about you right—”

  “I need to see her!” Vicki tried again to push up on her elbow.

  “Right now we need—”

  “You aren’t doing anything to me until I see my daughter.”

  He looked as if he was going to argue, but then he spoke to someone else in the room. “Get her neighbor.”

  Frowning, the doctor added, “We’ve got to get you ready for a procedure called extracorporeal shock wave lithotripsy. You have a kidney stone that has caused a blockage and a severe infection. It’s gotten in your blood. It’s critical that it be done ASAP so you don’t lose a kidney or worse.”

  She nodded. The pain in her side peaked. Swallowing a moan, she closed her eyes. Footsteps sounded. She opened her eyes. Juan stood in the doorway, holding a sleeping Bell. Her niece’s head rested on his shoulder.

  “You’ve got three minutes.” The doctor walked out.

  “Is she okay?” Vicki asked.

  “She was worried. But she fell asleep.”

  Tears filled Vicki’s eyes. “How…how did I get here?”

  “When Bell couldn’t wake you up, she got afraid and came to my house. I brought you here.”

  “She must have been so scared.” Vicki reached out and Juan moved closer. She ran her hand down Bell’s back. “I know this is a lot to ask, but can you please take care of her while I’m in here?”

  He hesitated.

  Desperation swelled in her chest. “She likes you. She trusts you. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “Isn’t there someone else?”

  “No. She’s a good kid. You’ve seen her scars. She’s had a tough life. Please do this for me. For her.”

  Concern pulled at his brows. “I don’t know how to—”

  “Please.”

  A nurse and an anesthesiologist walked in. “We’re going to have to get you sedated now.”

  “One minute.” Vicki looked at Juan.

  The nurse shook her head. “Sorry.”

  The anesthesiologist walked over and pushed a needle into Vicki’s IV.

  “Please.” Vicki looked at Juan.

  “I got her,” he said.

  “Thank you.” A realization hit. If something happened to her…what would happen to Bell? Her world started spinning. “Don’t let anyone take her. He’ll hurt her…” She tried to push out the words, but they wouldn’t come.

  “You’re going to have to leave,” the nurse said to Juan.

  Black spots started going off like fireworks in her vision. The last thing she saw was Juan looking down at her. He ran a hand over her cheek. Tender. Caring. She should have told him about…She should have trusted him.

  * * *

  It was six a.m. when Juan got back to his place. He put Bell, still sleeping, on his sofa and collected a blanket. As he covered her up, she turned on her side and put her tiny hands under her cheek. She looked like a little angel. And for the next few days, he was going to be responsible for that angel. That scared the hell out of him.

  The idea that he might have to tell the little girl her mother wasn’t coming home had his gut pumping acid. Sweetie tried to jump on the sofa, but he scolded the excited dog, then picked her up and held her in apology.

  He pulled the dog to his chest and scratched behind her ears. The doctor said Nikki’s procedure had gone as well as could be expected. The kidney stone had been broken up. Juan had waited, wanting to talk to her, but an hour after the procedure, she still hadn’t woken up. Her fever had risen again, but they’d upped her dosage of IV antibiotics and hoped it’d come down soon.

  Realizing he couldn’t do anything for Nikki, he’d left his card in her room and come home.

  Juan sat down in his recliner and pressed his face in his hands. Between watching Cindy Bates bleed out and then seeing Nikki unconscious, he felt the damn Grim Reaper hovering close by. While the cop in him worried about Bates, everything else in him ached for Nikki. And for Bell.

  Why hadn’t he insisted on going to check on them? If he had, maybe he could have gotten Nikki to the hospital earlier. Maybe…

  Exhaustion pulled at his mind. Closing his eyes, he remembered his time together with Nikki. Her laughter. Her kisses. How alive she’d felt in his arms. How alive she’d made him feel.

  Staring at the ceiling, he thought he’d fall instantly asleep, but his mind raced. His gaze kept shifting to Bell. How could Nikki have no one to count on? No one to call to care for her kid? No family? No friends? It didn’t make sense.

  He exhaled and looked at the time. Obviously, he wasn’t going to work today. He fought the urge to pick up the phone and call the hospital to see if Nikki’s fever had dropped, but it’d only been thirty minutes since he’d left.

  She had to pull through.

  But what if she didn’t? Why hadn’t he insisted she tell him who he could call about Bell?

  Suddenly remembering his sister-in-law worked with her, he found Christina’s number and hit the call button.

  “You’re up bright and early,” his sister-in-law said in lieu of hello.

  “Never been to bed,” he said as he moved down the hallway to his bedroom.

  “That’s not good. Is everything okay?”

  “No. It’s Nikki.”

  “Your neighbor? Oh, is her little girl okay?”

  “Yeah, Bell’s fine. It’s Nikki.” He told her what had happened. There were a lot of “Dios míos” on her side of the conversation.

  Then he said, “I was hoping maybe she put an emergency number or nearest relative on her job application?”

  “You don’t think she’s going to—”

  “No,” he said, but the question gut-punched him. “I’m just covering my bases.”

  “Let me check. I’m at my desk now.”

  He heard her tapping on the keyboard. Would it be this easy? He walked back down the hall to check on Bell. Still asleep.

  “Sorry. She didn’t list anyone.”

  No, it wasn’t going to be that easy. And what did that tell him? It said his gut had been right all along. Nikki was running. He couldn’t believe she didn’t have one person who cared about her or her daughter.

  “I don’t know why we didn’t notice it,” Christina said. “Well, I guess I do. She was a quick hire. We were desperate to find someone, and Nikki was up-front about having another interview with Be Fit gym. The manager was afraid she’d go with them. But I have the names and numbers of her last employers. Both are gyms in Colorado. Maybe they’ll have an emergency contact.”

  “Yeah.” He moved to the kitchen table, where he had a pen and pad. He wrote down the names, addresses, and phone numbers of the employers.

  “Who is taking care of her daughter?” she asked.

  Juan looked back at the sofa where Bell slept. “I am,” he said in a whisper.

 
; “Oh. Are you okay with that?”

  The thought to ask for help tickled his mind, but he recalled how adamant Nikki had been about it being him. He remembered the burns on Bell’s arm and shoulder and could only imagine how hard it was for Nikki to trust him. As uncomfortable as the task felt resting on his shoulders, he answered, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  When he hung up, he called the hospital and got good news on both sides. Bates hadn’t regained consciousness, but she was still hanging in there. Nikki’s fever was coming down. She was slowly waking up.

  An hour passed and, still unable to sleep, he decided to give the gyms a call. The first number went straight to an out-of-service message. The next one did the same.

  He moved to the kitchen table, got on his laptop, and typed in the names of the gyms. Both were out of business. Was that a coincidence?

  Damn it, Nikki. What are you hiding?

  He glanced back at Bell. Sweetie had jumped up on the sofa and was curled up beside her.

  “Don’t wake her up,” he told the poodle. Then he dropped down in his chair.

  It felt like he’d barely fallen asleep when his phone rang. Jarred awake, he grabbed his phone. It read: Westside Hospital.

  He went to swipe to take the call, but first his eyes shifted to Bell. The sofa was empty.

  “Bell?” he called out.

  No answer. He dropped the phone and bolted up. “Bell?” He saw the front door slightly ajar.

  The phone continued to ring. He hauled his butt outside.

  “Bell?” Juan stood in his front yard, fear became a mass in his chest. He’d lost her. Damn it, he’d lost her.

  “Bell?” he yelled as loud as he could.

  He heard barking. Sweetie’s bark. Hope flared.

  Following the sound, he shot across Nikki’s yard. Her front door was open, and Sweetie stood in the entryway.

  “Bell?” he yelled.

  The child came running around the corner. “Where’s my mom?”

  Juan drew in air. His lungs latched on to the oxygen and held it until his chest felt ready to explode. “Don’t ever do that again! You don’t leave the house without telling me. Understand?”

  Even before the girl’s bottom lip started trembling, he regretted his tone. But damn it, she’d scared him.

 

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