“Doctor,” she called after him as he walked from the room. “Call security! I think someone tried to kill this patient.”
Chapter Five
Grant bolted upright in his bed, the sharp jolt of pain from his injured shoulder causing his vision to blur momentarily.
“Grant what is it?” his mother asked.
“The code, the ICU. Desi’s in the ICU! I have to get down there and make sure she’s ok,” he said, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed.
“Absolutely not,” Mason stepped in, placing a large hand on Grant’s shoulder. “There are always codes in the ICU ,son, it’s where the sickest patients are. I’m sure Desiree is fine and you running around down there while they are trying to work is only going to endanger the person they are trying to help.”
Just then, Grant’s nurse came into the room to check his vitals. “What’s going on here?” she asked when she noticed Grant’s feet on the floor. “You promised that you would be a model patient after I took you to see your girlfriend earlier. You need to be back in bed.”
“The code in the ICU,” Grant said desperately. “I need to know if it’s her, my Desi. Can you find out for me? Please, or else I’m going to go back on my word and go down there myself.”
The nurse agreed to check on Desiree’s status as soon as she checked on her patient, Grant. She checked his vitals, which was no easy feat due to all of his huffing and fidgeting, and changed his surgical dressings before stepping out of the room to check on the code in ICU. She went back to the nurse’s station and called down to the ICU desk, shocked to find out that her patient’s girlfriend had indeed coded. All the charge nurse would tell her is that she was now stable and a neuro consult was ordered due to the amount of time she was down.
The nurse finished her paperwork and headed back into Grant’s room to pass along the news. She was concerned that he would want to run down to the unit to see Desiree and wasn’t sure she could stop him. She was relieved to see Catherine outside of the room and thought if she passed the news to her, she might have better luck reasoning with her son.
“Mrs. Crawford, I called down to the ICU as promised. It seems that the code was for Miss Palmer but the charge nurse on the floor has assured me that she is stable and being looked after. I thought maybe you would be able to see that Mr. Crawford stay in his room and let Miss Palmer’s doctors tend to her.”
Catherine nodded, somewhat distractedly, and thanked the nurse for her information. She promised to pass it along and make sure that Grant stayed put so he could heal as well as not interfere with Desiree’s doctors. She smoothed out her blouse with her hands and turned on her heel to return to Grant’s room, taking a breath before she entered. When she walked in, her expression was pleasant as usual, but her wheels were spinning.
“Grant, your nurse called down to the ICU as you requested and all is fine,” she said. “Nothing for you to worry about, dear.”
Grant took this to mean that it wasn’t Desiree who had coded and sank back into his pillows, relieved.
“Thank you, mother,” he said gratefully, finally giving into the exhaustion and falling asleep.
Down in the ICU, the doctors and nurses were looking over the ventilator equipment to determine whether the police needed to be called. Being that the damage was done just below the level of the bed, it could not have been stepped on and the crash cart been on the opposite side of the bed, so that couldn’t have been pushed against the tube either. No, it was determined that the damage was deliberate and that it was the cause of Desiree’s code. The police were called in and the room was sealed off to anyone other than her direct nurse and doctor.
The neurologist had come to check Desiree’s neurological signs and had some concerns. Her pupils were still sluggish to respond to light and her reflexes seemed diminished, though that could have been caused by the large amounts of pain medication she was on. He wouldn’t be able to tell more until she regained consciousness, if she regained consciousness. Taking into consideration the amount of time she was without oxygen as well as the severity of the injuries she sustained in the accident, her body had been through a lot and might not recover as originally expected.
The police arrived within the hour and began investigating the attempt on Desiree’s life. They interviewed all staff that came into contact with Desiree and asked to see any security cameras that were set up on the floor. Everyone tried to get back into their routine, but all were rattled that this had happened. Although the police told them not to talk to anyone, gossip started to spread like wildfire. Things like this didn’t happen here, and so, naturally, they were talked about. Within an hour, most of the hospital staff knew about the attempt on Desiree’s life.
The police gathered the evidence they needed for now, confiscated the security tapes and posted a guard outside of Desiree’s door. Strict instructions were again given that no one except Desiree’s direct nurse or doctor were allowed to enter the room. Order was slowly restored on the ICU, and the staff went back to their assigned duties, still muttering to each other, trying to figure out who might be responsible.
Being only an hour from Crawford’s Corners, the names Palmer and Crawford were well-known. The money attached to those names was beyond most people’s imaginations. If you read the papers, you knew that Desiree Palmer was now the sole owner and beneficiary of Palmer Holdings and half-owner of the mill. Money was a great motivator for evil. The staff also knew that Desiree was involved with Grant Crawford. Was there a jealous lover involved? Or had the bad blood between the two families finally boiled over? The hospital was rife with speculation, but no one would ever suspect the truth, and therein lie the assailant’s anonymity.
Chapter Six
The next day Grant was released from the hospital to recuperate at home. He insisted that he not be that far away from the hospital and Desiree, so his parents agreed to put him up in the penthouse of a local hotel and hired a nurse to tend to him when needed. Grant thought all of that unnecessary, but since it allowed him to be close, he didn’t argue.
Although the events of the day before were well-known throughout the hospital staff, the patients were still unaware of what had happened. After Grant was discharged he wanted to go check on Desiree, to tell her he loved her and would be close if she needed him. When he got to the ICU, he was told that they were not allowing visitors at this time due to a patient incident. The nurse assured him that Desiree was resting comfortably and that he could call and check in on her later. Grant was unhappy to not be able to see Desiree, but reluctantly agreed to leave and check back after he had settled into the hotel.
When his father dropped him at the hotel, his mother was already there fussing over the room. She was ordering bellhops and housekeeping around to make sure all was as she thought it should be.
“Mother, this is fine,” he said. “All I need is a bed and some food.”
“You are a Crawford, and my only child,” she replied. “You will let me fuss over you now or I will move in with you while you are here.”
Grant winced at the thought. “Nope, that’s perfectly fine. Fuss away.”
In truth, he was surprised that his mother wasn’t staying with him. He’d assumed that she would attach herself to his hip as soon as he left the hospital, but his father had convinced her to let him breathe a bit. He would be in Atlanta enough for business meetings over the coming week and could check in on Grant when needed. They hired nurses to tend to Grant’s medical needs and a personal assistant for his personal ones such as clothing and errands. He had a driver on call to take him to any follow-up doctor appointments and to the hospital to see Desiree. Not to mention, Mason reminded Catherine, she had the Ladies Auxiliary Luncheon to plan. Despite the current rift in their relationship, Grant was grateful to his father for the arrangements he made and for getting his mother to back off a bit.
His parents left and Grant settled into the penthouse, grateful for the few moments of quiet before the nurse a
nd assistant would show up to fawn all over him as his mother had ordered. He was still in considerable pain from the bruises and the surgery. His shoulder ached and his ribs and head felt like he’d been used as a punching bag. He took a pain pill and lay down for a short nap before calling on Desiree again.
When Grant awoke, he found himself covered in a blanket and noticed that the daylight beyond the windows had faded into the first brush strokes of evening. How long had he slept? He sat up and spotted a note on the bedside table letting him know that the evening nurse would be there around seven and his assistant left a few changes of clothes for him in the living room so as not to disturb him. He was to call if he needed anything else today, regardless of the time. Grant glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty! Grant had slept for almost seven hours. He sat up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He was struggling with the sling on his arm when the evening nurse tapped on the door.
“Mr. Crawford? I’m Evie, your nurse. Do you need any help in there?” she called through the door.
Grant reluctantly opened the door to her, standing in nothing but his underwear. “Uh, yeah, I guess I do,” he admitted. “I can’t quite get this sling off; I want to take a shower.”
Evie helped him remove the sling and directed him to hold his arm close to his side during the shower, using only his good side to wash and reach. With some effort, Grant was able to struggle his way through the shower and felt refreshed stepping out. He grabbed the towel and tried to dry himself off, not doing too bad of a job for a one-armed man. He returned to the bedroom and saw that Evie must’ve brought the clothes in and laid them on the bed for him. He opted for a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, making a mental note to ask for some sweats and track pants. Pulling on and buttoning jeans with one arm wasn’t easy and he sure as hell wasn’t going to as Evie or anyone else to dress him. Once he had the button down on over his good arm, Evie came in to help put the sling back on and fasten the buttons of his shirt so that the injured arm was tucked against Grant’s body.
Grant ordered himself something to eat from room service and called the driver to take him to the hospital when he finished. When he arrived at the hospital, he stopped in the gift shop to purchase some flowers for Desiree before heading up to her room. He stepped off of the elevator on her floor and preceded to the nurse’s station. He stopped to check in, but as soon as he said he was there to see Desiree, he was ushered aside by a police officer.
“What is your name, sir? And what is your connection to Miss Palmer?” the officer asked in a stern but quiet voice.
Grant was taken aback for a moment but quickly found his voice. “My name is Grant Crawford. I’m Desiree’s boyfriend. What’s this about?”
“Sir, why don’t you come with me,” the officer said, leading him by the good arm to a staff break room at the end of the hall.
“Mr. Crawford, can you tell me where you were yesterday evening?” the officer asked.
Grant pointed to his sling and said, “I was upstairs recovering from surgery. Why? What’s going on? Is Desiree okay?” He was becoming more alarmed by the minute.
“Do you have any knowledge of anyone who would try to harm Miss Palmer? Any enemies she may have had?” the officer asked, not answering any of Grant’s questions.
“Harm her? Enemies? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well Mr. Crawford, some time between six and six-thirty last night, there was an attempt made on Miss Palmer’s life.”
Grant felt himself go cold and he staggered backward, bumping into a chair. He slowly lowered himself down, his legs suddenly unable to support him.
“Someone tried to kill her?” he asked incredulously.
“We are still investigating but it looks that way, yes. So I’ll ask again, can you think of anything who might want to harm Miss Palmer?”
Grant slowly shook his head from side to side, unable to believe that someone tried to kill Desiree and equally as unable to believe what he was about to say.
“Yes I do,” he said quietly. “Mason Crawford. My father.”
Chapter Seven
Mason Crawford sat behind the desk in his Atlanta office, not wanting to be too far from Grant in case he needed something. Papers piled up in front of him, but he couldn’t focus and instead looked out the window onto the street below. The events of the past few days played themselves over and over again in his head.
When Sheriff Todd had called to tell him Grant had been in an accident, his heart nearly stopped. As mad as he had been at Grant’s defiance of his wishes, he was still his son--his only son. He’d leapt from his desk and run out of the house without a thought. Even though Grant was a grown man, over six feet tall and broad shouldered, he had still looked like a frail little boy in that damn hospital bed and Mason had been terrified until Grant had opened his eyes and spoken to him. That is, until he had spoken Destiny’s name.
Mason was surprised and unnerved at the revelation that Grant knew about the affair. He’d had no idea that Destiny kept his letters. He’d thought that chapter of his life had been closed forever, if not the day Destiny had ended the affair, then certainly the day she ended her life. He was still saddened by her death. In truth, he hadn’t actually loved Destiny. She’d been a reminder of a time long gone, the spitting image of a woman he’d once loved and lost. But she’d been a source of passion, something he’d never had with Catherine. Still, her wasted life was a tragedy and he couldn’t help but feel some culpability for it. They had come together in a moment of mutual grief and offered each other comfort for the better part of a year after, but he had been the adult and should’ve put an end to things long before she did.
He thought back to that day, nearly two months before she died. Destiny had called him and asked to meet at the apartment he kept for them in the city. Only the two of them knew of it so they would have privacy and discretion at all times. When Mason arrived, Destiny was already there. She seemed agitated, distracted, and determined not the shy, melancholy girl she had become since her mother’s death. She told him that the affair was over, that she was going to leave to go back to school and she needed to put all of the past year behind her. He wished her well and closed that chapter of his life. He missed the passion, the thrill of the secret, but he ultimately saw it for what it was; a sad attempt to hold onto the memory of her mother. After that day, he did not see or hear from Destiny again.
A sharp rap at the office door dragged Mason from his memories.
“Who is it?” he said, quickly checking his calendar for mention of a meeting may have forgotten.
His secretary opened the door, looking flustered. “Mr. Crawford, the police are here to see you.”
Grant sat in Desiree’s room, holding her hand and talking to her like the nurse suggested.
“Please wake up, Desi,” he begged. “Please open your eyes and come back to me.”
He sat back in the bedside chair, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, looking at the monitors for any signs that she was close to waking up. The doctor told him that he didn’t know for sure when, or if, Desiree may regain consciousness. She’d been deprived of oxygen for seven minutes, so even if she did wake up, she might have significant deficits. They wouldn’t know the extent of any damage until she awoke.
Grant heard the doctor say “if,” but Grant continued to believe “when.” She had to wake up. She had to come back to him. He’d already lost so much time with her. They were starting over, starting something new, and good and he couldn’t lose her. So, he would sit here and hold her hand and talk to her until she woke up. Everything after that would work itself out.
Grant checked his watch. The police should be at his father’s office by now. He didn’t want to believe that his father would actually try to kill Desiree, but if not him then who? Who else had reason to want her dead? The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that the brakes on her car had been tampered with. He remembered hearing something outside that nig
ht and going out to check on the noise. He figured at the time that it was an animal, but now he realized it must’ve been whoever had cut the brake lines. He was furious. His father was so worried about the revelation of a seven-year-old affair that he almost killed his own son and very nearly killed the woman Grant loved.
He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. His shoulder ached and the pain medication made him sleepy. The nurse told him to go back to his hotel and get some rest, that she would call him if anything changed, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Desi. He drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of the crash. He dreamt of flipping, the noise, the pain in his shoulder, the sound of Desi screaming. He awoke with a start at the sound of his name.
“Mr. Crawford,” the nurse said, shaking him gently. “She’s awake.”
Grant stepped out to the hallway as the doctor assessed Desiree and prayed that he would come away with good news. After about twenty minutes, the doctor emerged.
“How is she?” Grant asked.
“She’s responding very well,” the doctor assured him. “It will take some time for us to know if there are any memory or cognitive deficits, but for now, all of her neurological signs are normal. She’s very lucky.”
Grant hurried back into the room and took his place one again at Desiree’s side, grabbing hold of her hand. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead.
“You gave us all quite a scare,” he told her, smoothing her hair away from her face. He looked into her eyes and saw confusion there.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Southern Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance) Page 8
