by Alison Stone
Cheryl smacked his arm away. “Don’t tell me to take it easy.” The young girl huffed and puffed and acted like a three-year-old having a temper tantrum.
She’s protesting too much, Dylan thought.
Dylan had seen enough bad guys proclaiming their innocence to know Cheryl had done something wrong. He made eye contact with the sheriff.
“Cheryl, if you have something to share, you better do it now,” the sheriff said. “We’re going to find out sooner or later and we’ll go easier on you if you cooperate.”
Naomi turned toward her friend, the look of confusion and innocence in such contrast to the more worldly girl’s surly expression. “Did you bring the drugs to the party?”
Cheryl spun to face Naomi. “No, I would never do that.” She jerked her head back. “They’re making things up. Don’t you see that? Dr. Christina is afraid of losing her practice and now she’s trying to pin it on me.” Her voice grew shrill. “Adults never believe kids.”
Christina stood, adjusting her shirt over the top of her jeans. “Cheryl, you have to tell the truth. My livelihood is on the line. The future of this clinic is on the line.” She lifted her finger in a hold-on-a-minute gesture, then turned to Georgia. “Do you know where the lab reports are?”
“Yes, they’re by the computer.”
Christina retrieved them. “May I share this information, Naomi?” Christina leaned and whispered something to Naomi and then the young Amish girl nodded.
“The drug in Naomi’s system after the barn party is consistent with the drugs that went missing from the clinic. Did you bring them, Cheryl?” Christina jabbed her finger at the piece of paper.
Cheryl wrapped her arms around herself, looking much younger and not as tough as she had a minute ago. “I don’t know why you’re blaming me. I didn’t do anything. I mean, why would I check on Naomi if I drugged her?” She twisted her face.
“I don’t think you meant to hurt her, but whoever you gave or sold the drugs to dropped some in Naomi’s drink. That scared you, so you came running to the clinic to check on her.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cheryl insisted.
“We’re trying to get to the bottom of this,” Dylan said, trying to appeal to the young woman. “The police will be looking at everyone who had access to the clinic.”
“The more defensive you get, the closer we’re going to scrutinize your activities,” the sheriff added. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“Tell them,” Naomi pleaded. “Someone drugged me. I could have been really hurt or worse.” She visibly shuddered. “Do you want that to happen to someone else?”
“I have nothing to say.” Cheryl yanked open the clinic door. She paused and turned to Naomi. “Get your own ride home. And don’t call me anymore. You’re nothing but trouble.”
The clinic door slammed shut and all eyes moved to Naomi. She looked lost.
“Cheryl’s been a good friend. I don’t believe she’d steal drugs,” Naomi said, her voice shaky. “I don’t.”
Sheriff Maxwell stood. “We’ll look into it.”
Naomi stood there with eyes wide. “It wonders me if I should come back another time.”
“I think it would be best if you called it a day,” the sheriff said.
Naomi nodded her bonneted head. Obviously sensing her discomfort, Georgia stood and said, “If it’s okay, I’ll take Naomi home.”
“That would be great,” Christina said, offering her coworker a warm smile.
The two women slipped out the door. Christina looked more frightened than Dylan had ever seen her. She had almost been run over by a car, had her home broken into and an arrow missed her head, but her true fear stemmed from the realization that her healthcare clinic could be in jeopardy. If people found out the drugs had originated here, her license could be at stake.
Christina turned to the sheriff. “I have never done anything unethical or illegal when it comes to scripts. I’ll cooperate fully.”
The sheriff nodded.
“I’ll see that she gets safely home,” Dylan added. The two men shook hands.
The sheriff took a step toward the door, then paused. “I think it would be best if you came into the station to make a statement.”
“A statement?” Christina ran her finger along her bottom lip.
“Yes. I understand Roger Everett attacked you when you were in high school.”
“I have no proof.” Her face flushed dark red. Dylan wanted to reassure her, but feared she might rebuff his offer of support.
“We’ve had a few other cases recently.”
Christina’s eyes grew wide.
“Roger wasn’t on our radar for them, but once your brother told me about the incident between you and Roger, I did some investigating. He was in the area. If we can’t get him for attacking you, maybe we can pin one of the more recent assaults on him.”
Christina sat down slowly on one of the hard plastic chairs. “Oh, wow.” She bowed her head, then lifted it. “What about the drugs stolen from my clinic?”
“I’m going to take a hard look at Cheryl. I also suggest you change the locks on the door and the medicine cabinets.”
* * *
Chamomile tea did nothing to calm the sense of unease Christina felt as she sat in the dark of the early morning, staring out the French doors overlooking the orchard. Dylan had gotten up even earlier to run by his apartment and then go to an appointment in Buffalo with the FBI.
She couldn’t believe the sheriff had Roger Everett in his sights for a few recent attacks. Sheriff Maxwell had said a young woman came forward after the news that Roger had ties with the girls’ softball team. She had thwarted unwanted advances from Roger. She’d dismissed it, calling herself fortunate, but something about the intense look in his eyes unnerved her. The young woman didn’t report the incident initially because she figured her parents, fearing for her safety, would make her move back home and she enjoyed living on campus. But, now, after seeing the news reports, she couldn’t in good conscience remain quiet.
Christina should have never remained quiet. If she had reported Roger, how many women would she have spared? Guilt tightened its ruthless fist in her gut.
She pulled the tea bag out of her mug and dropped it on the saucer.
Abusers were often charismatic. They had a different public persona than they did in private. That’s probably how Roger lured people into a sense of comfort. Maybe he had delusions that the women really liked him.
Christina took a long sip of her tea, feeling the hot liquid travel down her throat.
She hoped that through all of this, Linda could manage. Dealing with a serious disease was hard enough. Now this.
Bowing her head, she said a silent prayer. Dear Lord, please watch over Linda Everett and give her strength in her time of illness. Bring her comfort.
A thump at the window made her startle and look up. The first fingers of dawn stretched above the horizon. Her heart raced as her eyes scanned the back deck. A robin floundered on the deck, having flown into the window. Christina glanced down at the lock on the door. She had to go out and help the poor creature. She glanced over her shoulder. The rest of the house was sleeping.
Christina flipped the lock and was bending over to remove the rod bracing the door shut when she noticed the robin stretch its wings and fly away.
“Good job, little guy.” She smiled, surprised by the relief she felt that the bird had only been stunned, yet angry with herself for being so afraid to go out on her deck because of all the recent events.
Her cell phone chirped, snapping her out of her scrambled thoughts. She glanced at the caller ID, but didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello.”
Silence stretched across the line.
“Hello?” she said again
, this time louder.
“Dr. Christina...” The voice broke into sobs.
“Yes, this is Dr. Christina.”
“I know it’s early, but it’s my mom.” A male voice cracked.
Realization dawned. “Matthew Everett?”
He sniffed. “Yes, my mom isn’t doing well. Can you help her?”
Christina pressed her lips together, hating that she was hesitant. “Matthew, your father won’t want me to come. He’s...” She let her words trail off. “Is your father there?”
“No, he went to Buffalo early for some meetings. I’m afraid he’s going to be gone all day.” Matthew’s voice sounded stronger, yet still strained from the stress of his mother’s illness.
“Did you call him?” Christina stared out the back window, watching the morning sky above the orchard growing brighter.
“Yes. He said he’d be back by dinner and that he checked on my mom before he left. I don’t think he realized how bad she is. She’s shaking.” Christina could hear his ragged breathing over the line. “I think she’s in horrible pain but won’t take anything because my dad has made her afraid to take the pain medications. After that news conference and all.” Christina couldn’t pinpoint the emotion she sensed floating across the line.
She flattened her hand over her mouth, indecision capturing her voice. The house was quiet, save for the occasional sounds of settling. She had taken an oath. Memories of helping Nick’s mother-in-law in her final days came to mind.
Despite everything swirling around, she had to help Linda. She had to. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t.
“What time is your dad coming home?” She glanced up at the clock. It was a few minutes before seven.
“He said he wouldn’t be able to get home until at least four.” She heard a muffled sound over the line. “Can you come? Please.”
This information lined up with what Nick had told Christina yesterday after talking with Roger. He claimed he was innocent and was going to go about his business, which included a trip to Buffalo for business meetings. Roger was as adamant about his innocence as he was about Christina’s guilt.
Now they were at a standstill until the sheriff’s department uncovered evidence.
Christina drew in a deep breath.
“Yes, but don’t tell your dad. Promise?” Christina said.
“I won’t. Thank you.” The relief was evident in Matthew’s voice. “I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you. Come right in and go to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. I’m afraid to leave my mom’s side.”
Christina glanced down at her PJ bottoms. “I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”
FOURTEEN
Christina’s brain knew that Roger Everett wasn’t home, but someone needed to alert her body’s involuntary response system. The flight part of her fight-or-flight response was waging a mighty battle. Yet she strode up the porch steps at the Everetts’ home. Linda needed her.
If her personal code of ethics hadn’t been so high, she wouldn’t have responded to Matt’s call at all. But how could she ignore Linda’s suffering?
Christina pushed back her shoulders and knocked softly on the door, more as a formality. Matthew had told her to walk right in. He didn’t want to leave his mother’s side.
Her heart broke for the young man.
Christina turned the handle and walked in and called up the stairs to announce her arrival. “Hello, it’s Dr. Christina.” Boxes from moving were still scattered around the foyer. Poor Linda was probably too weak to unpack. Grief sat on Christina’s chest. The poor woman might never get to unpack.
Christina took a step toward the stairs and a floorboard creaked. The utter stillness of the home made the flesh on her arms stand up. Suddenly stories of intruders shot by unsuspecting homeowners flashed through her mind. She shook it away. She had been invited to check in on Linda Everett.
The wife of the man you accused of attacking you.
Christina could already imagine Dylan scolding her for going someplace without him. Something deep inside her bristled. She did not need taking care of. Besides, she wasn’t taking reckless chances. She knew Roger wasn’t around.
Before she lost her nerve, she gripped her doctor’s bag in one hand and the railing in the other and made her way up the stairs. About halfway up, she called out again. “Matthew? Linda? It’s Dr. Christina. I’m headed up.”
Her sweat-slicked palm slid across the railing and she smiled at her ridiculousness. She’d check on Linda and leave. If Linda needed additional care, she’d make sure Dylan came with her next time.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t wait for Dylan to return from Buffalo, but she had given him the consideration of a text before she got out of the car in the Everetts’ driveway.
The bedroom door at the top of the stairs was ajar. With a hand she couldn’t get to stop shaking, she pushed it open. The high-pitched groan of the hinges made icy dread surge through her veins.
Messy sheets were crumpled on the empty bed.
Christina stepped into the room. “Linda?” She hated the shaky quality of her voice.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind her and she jumped. She spun around. Matt stood there blocking the door with a vacant stare in his eyes.
Christina’s stomach plummeted to her shoes. “Matthew, where is your mother?”
Matt didn’t answer as he took a step toward Christina. She squared her shoulders. She should never have put herself in this position.
“Is your mother home?” Christina asked, this time more forcefully, hoping she could reach the space behind this young man’s vacant eyes.
“It’s all your fault.” His lips peeled back from his teeth.
Christina wavered between peppering the young man with questions and putting her full body weight behind a mad dash for the door. But since the door was behind him, she risked ramming him into the door, which would only make him angry, not provide an escape.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took a slow step toward him and he didn’t budge. “I need to leave. Please get out of my way.”
Matthew blinked slowly a few times and she prayed she could reach him.
“My mom and dad have been fighting a lot. My mom’s been crying.” Darkness flashed in his eyes, reminiscent of the evil she had seen in Roger’s eyes the day of her attack.
Christina swallowed hard. “I’m here to help your mom.”
“No.”
Christina couldn’t make sense of her jumbled thoughts.
“I’m a doctor. I’m here to help your mother. I worked with her physicians in Buffalo to find the best treatment to make sure your mom is comfortable.”
“I’m not talking about her pain meds, you stupid woman.” Matt’s fist came out and connected with her jaw so fast, Christina didn’t have time to brace herself. It sent her reeling back and she scrambled to catch herself on the edge of the chair, but her wrist folded at an awkward angle and she landed hard on her backside. Then her world went black.
* * *
Dylan glanced at his phone, then turned it on silent as he entered his early-morning meeting. His immediate supervisor sat on the other side of the desk and held out a hand.
“Have a seat, Dylan.”
Dylan sat down, apprehension coursing through him. He wasn’t sure what this meeting was about, but the fact that his supervisor called him in last minute couldn’t be good.
“Was there a development in Special Agent Nora Reed’s death?” Even saying her name now, the guilt washed over him.
“Yes.” His supervisor’s reply was curt. He picked up a file on his desk and offered it to Dylan.
Feeling a little light-headed at being back here, about to get the news he’d been dreading for months, he asked, “Ca
n you give me the highlights?”
Surprise registered on his supervisor’s face. The older man took the file back and opened it. “Special Agent Nora Reed was not killed as a result of meeting with your CI.” The man stopped to let the news sink in.
Since the second he found Nora’s lifeless body, Dylan had beaten himself up for sending his partner to her death. To a meeting he should have gone to, but decided she needed the experience. She wanted the experience.
“I don’t understand. The CI confessed.”
His supervisor shook his head. “The confidential informant had been threatened.”
“What?”
“Special Agent Nora Reed’s cousin got involved with a violent gang. Somehow the gang leader got wind that his cousin was an FBI agent. They put a bull’s-eye on Agent Reed’s head. I’m afraid she was a walking target.”
“Why didn’t we know this? All agents are vetted.”
“Yes, but her cousin didn’t have a record when Nora applied. For some reason, her cousin went off the rails in a relatively short period of time. Drugs will do that to a person.”
Dylan plowed his hand through his hair. “This is crazy.”
“The CI was a talker. Word got out that he was meeting with Agent Reed that night. After they killed her, they threatened the CI to keep his mouth shut. I guess he thought it was better to confess to the crime than be out on the streets where the next gang member was likely to put a bullet in his head.”
Dylan should have felt relieved. He hadn’t led Nora to her death, but somehow knowing about the evil element in the world didn’t exactly do anything to give him the warm and fuzzies.
“Why did the CI confess now?”
“He didn’t. Nora’s cousin came forward. Kid sobered up and remorse got the best of him.”
Dylan slumped in his chair, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
His supervisor closed the folder and clasped his hands on top of it. “How’s life in the country? Getting your head back on straight? We really miss you.”
