by Joanna Wayne
Dr. Riuski sat down opposite Kelly and wasted no time getting to the meat of the matter. “It appears that your husband took three bullets. One lodged in the fatty tissue just below his left rib cage. Unfortunately, the other two penetrated his abdomen, tearing through muscle, tissue and countless blood vessels along the way. There’s significant internal bleeding and damage to several internal organs, though the urinalysis did not show blood in the urine, at least not yet.”
“Can’t you operate and remove the bullets?”
“We could, but with his vital signs as unstable as they are now, he’d never survive the surgery. His blood pressure is not only in the danger zone, but he’s suffered a mild heart attack.”
“I don’t understand. You said the bullets lodged in the stomach. Why would he have a heart attack?”
“Your husband had dangerous levels of amphetamines in his system when he was admitted to the hospital. Even without the bullets, he might have had the heart attack or other organ shutdowns.”
“Nick doesn’t do drugs.”
“I can only tell you what the tests showed.”
Kelly waited, expecting some word of optimism from the doctor whose voice suddenly sounded as tired as he looked. It didn’t come, and she felt as if icicles were puncturing her nerve endings. She had lots of issues with Nick, but she’d never wanted to see him dead.
“Does he have a chance?”
“I’d say no more than twenty percent, but if he makes it through the night, that could go up.”
Eighty percent chance that Alex would never see her father again. Maybe Kelly had been wrong to leave her at the hotel, but Kelly didn’t want Alex’s last memories of Nick to be of him the way he looked right now. She should remember him laughing, telling her stories, showing her off to all his friends.
The doctor finished his coffee and stood. “I’m sorry I can’t be more encouraging, but I feel it’s always best to level with the family.”
“I appreciate that.” But her legs were shaky when she stood, and she stumbled backward. Jack steadied her with a hand on her arm.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“I can give you something to steady your nerves,” the doctor offered.
“No, thanks. I’d like to keep a clear head.”
She was aware of Jack’s hand at the small of her back as she started back toward the ICU. Not quite friend; disturbingly more than a stranger.
They were almost back to Nick’s room when a uniformed policeman caught up with them.
“Mrs. Warner?”
“Yes.”
“Officer Rick Manning.” He flashed an ID. “I’m sorry about your husband. I know this isn’t the best time, but I need to ask you a few questions.”
She nodded, though she doubted she had the answers he was looking for.
“Who was your husband with tonight?”
“He was going out with some of his friends who were in town for the film festival.”
“I need their names.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have that information.”
“He was shot on a side street in the Larimer Square area. Do you know if he’d been in one of the clubs there?”
“No. I really don’t know anything about what happened tonight, and I think I should probably be with my husband in case he regains consciousness.”
Jack stepped forward, insinuating himself between her and the officer. “You must have witnesses who can give you this information.”
“Not at this point.”
“Who reported the shooting?”
“A man who was walking to his car.” The officer pulled a pad and pen from his shirt pocket. “Can I have your name and relation to the victim?”
“Jack Sanders, of Prescott Personal Services. I was hired by Nick Warner this morning to protect his wife and daughter.”
“But not to protect him?”
“If he’d hired PPS to protect himself, he wouldn’t have been shot. You need to notify Detective Gilly Carter and let him know about the shooting so that he can make sure his crime scene is intact.”
“No offense, Mr. Sanders, but if the department needs PPS help in handling the investigation, we’ll let you know.”
“Fine. In the meantime, notify Gilly Carter. And you can go now. Mrs. Warner is not available for questioning at this time unless you have a warrant.”
Jack led her back to the ICU. When she stepped inside the unit, she was hit again with the foreign smells and sights and the cold feel of dread.
Tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Jack handed her a tissue. “Don’t give up, Kelly. The two of you will have years ahead of you.”
But the tears wouldn’t stop. The fear and the dread—and the truth—were exploding inside her. She had to confess their twisted marriage to someone. Jack shouldn’t be that person. But he was here, and right now, she ached to hold on to someone not even remotely connected to the lies.
Jack put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her sobbing body against his broad shoulder. “Take me out of here, Jack. Please. I need to talk.”
Chapter Four
Saturday, 3:20 a.m.
Intensive Care Unit Waiting Room
Jack had never felt more inadequate than he did at this minute. Give him a life to protect, a killer to go up against. Just don’t give him Kelly O’Conner with tears in her eyes and her emotions hanging right out there on the sleeve of her delectably soft lavender sweatshirt.
Only she wasn’t Kelly O’Conner. She was Kelly Warner, and her emotions were all about her husband. Jack was just the only warm body around who wasn’t involved in the serious task of saving Nick’s life.
He scanned the waiting room for anyone who looked as if they didn’t belong there, his protective instincts on target even if the rest of his brain was skidding into dangerous territory.
Kelly dropped into a plaid armchair and pulled her feet into the seat with her. “I need to explain something.”
“Don’t explain your tears, Kelly. You’re worried about your husband. Any woman would be.”
“I am worried about him, but that’s not what I need to explain. I can’t get through this, not with everyone believing the lies. I can’t keep it up. I just can’t.” Desperation pulled at her voice.
“You’re upset.”
“I’m very upset. But I’m not Nick’s wife. I mean, I am, but just on paper.”
Jack had no idea where Kelly was going with this, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t handle going there with her right now. Especially not with her talking through sniffles and tears. “This isn’t the time to think about that. I’m not the man you should—”
She put up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “Will you please just let me finish this?”
He nodded.
“None of this can go outside this room.”
“You have my word on that,” he promised, “unless you’re about to confess to something illegal.”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
He hadn’t imagined that it would be. More likely it was about an affair she was having with Drake Patton. She probably felt guilty as hell now and wanted to redeem herself. Well, let her, if it eased her conscience. “Is there another man?”
“Oh, not just one. There’s been a string of them.”
He knew he should have turned down this assignment. “Please, Kelly. Let it go for tonight. You should be telling this to a friend.”
“I’m so bottled up. Can’t you just please let me talk?”
“Okay. You talk. I’ll listen.”
“Nick’s gay. Our marriage is a sham.”
“Nick’s the one who’s been with lots of other men?”
“Of course. You didn’t think it was me?”
“No. No way,” he lied.
“I suspected it as long as eighteen months ago, just about the same time the media picked up on it and the rumors started. When I asked him about it, he denied it vehement
ly.”
“Were the two of you still having sex?”
“No, we haven’t had sex since right after Alex was born.”
“Four years ago?”
“I know it sounds strange, but Nick was on location much of the time, and I got used to satisfying my own needs. Our sex life had never been good anyway, so when he moved to another bedroom, I was relieved. We got along well in other ways. He’s fun, loves to party, and he adores Alex. I know it sounds weird, but it seemed enough for a while, especially since I was dealing with my own career going down the tube.”
“That will come back.”
“No, I wasn’t that good, and I’ve lost the drive for it. But Nick was supportive of me through it all, and that meant a lot to me.”
“Then you didn’t know he was gay when you married him?”
“No. I’m not even sure he’d fully accepted it himself.”
“How long have you known for sure?”
“About six months. I caught him in an extremely compromising position in our pool house. That’s when I knew I had to get out of the marriage.”
“So you’ve already filed for divorce?”
“No. By then the rumors of his being gay were cropping up on a regular basis, and the studio was afraid they had contributed to his bad showing at the box office on his last two movies. They’d warned him that if he had one more bomb, they’d drop his contract. He begged me to stay with him until the release of Savage Thunder.”
“And you agreed?”
“There was no real reason not to. I cared for him and didn’t want to see him fail. I just didn’t love him. I’m not sorry for any of it. If I’d never married Nick, I wouldn’t have Alex. And she’s worth any amount of heartbreak. Besides, Nick has his passions and I have mine.”
Jack wondered if Drake Patton was one of those passions. He wouldn’t ask. It was none of his business. None of this was.
Kelly wiped her eyes again, running the edge of one finger beneath her runny mascara. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m sorry, that’s all.”
She stood and started to walk away though the tears were streaming down her face now. Jack didn’t really understand what was going on inside her, only that she was hurting. He caught up with her and grabbed her arm, tugging her around to face him.
And then he was the one who lost it. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him as her hot tears and satiny strands of golden hair caressed his neck.
His traitorous body started to harden. God help him, but he wanted Kelly. Wanted her right here in this sterile hospital environment. Wanted her while her gay husband lay nearby fighting for his life.
But he merely held her while she cried.
KELLY CLOSED HER EYES, fighting the tears that burned her eyelids. Weird that it should be Jack Sanders she’d bared her soul to, when she’d never told anyone else. She sniffled and pulled away, turning to see Mitchell Caruthers standing at the door to the waiting room glaring at her and Jack.
“I came as soon as I heard,” he said when she met his gaze.
“If Nick wasn’t out with you or Hal, who was he with?”
“Nick and Hal were both still at Olivia’s party when I went back to the hotel. Hal said he left him in a bar with the drinking still going strong sometime after that. How’s Nick?”
“He’s critical,” she answered. “He’s in ICU. They’re only letting family in, but you can tell them you’re a brother.”
“Is he conscious?”
“No.”
“Then I guess he hasn’t told you who shot him—or why?”
“Unfortunately not. He’s just muttered things out of his head.”
“What kind of things?”
“A list. A gun. Mostly he just groaned, but the nurse assured me he’s not actually in pain.” Kelly shared the doctor’s explanation with Mitchell. “How did you hear?” she asked.
Mitchell shoved his hands in his pockets, nervously jangling his keys. “Hal Hayden called me at the hotel. He heard about the shooting from his limo driver, who apparently heard it from some cop.”
“Who’s Hal Hayden?” Jack asked, his first utterance since Mitchell had arrived on the scene.
“He’s an actor from Savage Thunder, and a friend of Nick’s,” Mitchell answered, barely glancing at Jack before turning his attention back to Kelly. “It’s too bad Nick hasn’t said anything rational. Are you sure he didn’t mention a name?”
“If he did, I couldn’t make it out. I just hope he regains consciousness soon. I was on my way back to stay with him.”
Mitchell finally pulled his hands from his pockets and let his jangling keys fall silent. “Do you think I can have a few moments alone with him first? I’d like to say my goodbyes, just in case, even if he doesn’t know I’m there.”
“Of course, Mitchell. But be prepared. You’ll be shocked when you first see him. He looks…” She hesitated. Nick looked and sounded like a man on the verge of death but she couldn’t bring herself to say that. “He’s very ill.”
She waited until Mitchell walked away before calling her hotel room to check on Alex. Sara answered on the first ring and assured her that everything was fine and that Alex was sleeping soundly. They talked for a few minutes regarding Alex’s morning routine since it looked very unlikely that Kelly would be home by the time she waked. Poor baby. It would be incredibly hard on her if Nick didn’t make it.
“Paging Dr. Riuski to ICU. Code blue. Code blue.”
Kelly’s heart slammed against the walls of her chest. It had to be Nick. He was having a medical emergency.
She flew to Nick’s bedside. Mitchell was standing there, his mouth agape, his eyes wide. One nurse was injecting a vial of something into the IV. Another was pumping on Nick’s chest.
“Oh, my God! No. No.”
The screams came from Mitchell. Kelly grabbed him and held on to his arm as they watched the lines across the heart monitor flutter and then go flat.
Dr. Riuski rushed in and pushed through the frantic nurses to take over the task of trying to revive Nick. The taunting line running across the monitor stayed flat. In the prime of his life, on a night when he should have been basking in success, Nick Warner’s heart had stopped beating.
Kelly’s husband was dead.
Saturday, 4:15 a.m.
University of Colorado Hospital
KELLY HAD A LOT MORE inner resources than Jack had suspected. She didn’t break down again, though Jack wondered if she were running on sheer nerves as she dealt with the immediate and pragmatic details of death. She was in the room where they’d met with Dr. Riuski earlier, finishing off the last of the paperwork before Nick’s body could be released to the medical examiner for a full autopsy.
Mitchell was still here, too, waiting to talk to Kelly again. He’d been hanging out in the waiting room with his cell phone to his ear and apparently making sure that every entertainment editor in the country got their news flash concerning Nick’s demise straight from the manager’s mouth.
Jack was standing at the counter behind Kelly wrapping up a call to PPS. He’d talked to one of the night tech agents and asked him to add the news of Nick’s death to Evangeline’s daily report. By the time he broke the connection, the hospital halls were rocking.
“I have a right to get the news.”
“You can’t go in there, sir. This is a hospital.”
“Like hell, I can’t.”
Jack ducked into the hall just as an insistent paparazzo with a camera knocked over a crash cart and sent its contents clattering to the floor and rolling down the hall. A nurse who could have lasted a few bells in the ring with a heavyweight was standing in front of the guy, trying to take his camera from him while she blocked his entrance to the ICU where Nick’s body was still lying.
Jack rushed to the nurse’s aid, grabbing the man’s arms and pinning him to the wall as she wrestled the camera from him.
“Get your hands off me, jerk.”
“As soon as you cal
m down.”
“Where’s Nick Warner? I know he’s here.”
“He’s departed the building, and I suggest you do the same, nicely, the way the nurse asked you to.”
“I’m not the one causing trouble. I’ve got a right to cover news events.”
Jack flared his denim jacket and exposed his weapon. “Your rights just got canceled. Now turn around, walk back to the elevator and leave the hospital quietly.”
“I have my credentials. I’m legitimate. You can’t shoot me for doing my job.”
“He can’t, but I can.”
Jack looked up to see Gilly Carter walking toward them from the stairwell. Carter stuck his ID in the photographer’s face. “Detective Carter with the Denver Police.”
Jack released the man. “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.”
“Don’t tell me you were hired to protect the victim,” Carter mocked.
“No, the victims are never my clients. You should know that by now.”
“Then why are you here?”
Jack waited until the disgruntled paparazzo had walked away, apparently heading for the elevator. “Mrs. Warner and her daughter are under PPS protection.”
“Really. That must have happened after last night’s murder.”
“Nick called our office this morning.”
“Is he talking tonight?”
“Not tonight or any other time. He died a few minutes ago.”
Carter looked grim. “A high-profile murder during the highest-profile event of the year, and it would have to fall to me. Where’s Mrs. Warner now?”
“She’s signing some forms for the hospital, but she’s pretty shook up.”
“I’m sure. I’ll go easy on her.”
“You could wait until she’s had a few hours sleep.”
“And been briefed by you?”
“I’m not her attorney.”
“Right, and you’re not a cop, either. Try to remember both of those things. And since Mrs. Warner and I are both here, I think we should talk now.”
“I was sure you would.”
KELLY WAS BONE TIRED. She’d love to sink into a hot bath and close her burning eyes, but there was no avoiding Detective Carter. He’d suggested the hospital coffee shop for his informal questioning session.
