“Is everything all right?” she asked after several uncomfortable seconds of silence.
“Just fine.” He leaned forward, bracing his weight on his folded arms, which he propped on his desk. His sudden shift felt aggressive, and Elise fought the urge to shrink back from his penetrating glare.
“Tell me something, Ms. Norris. What made you pick Pine Mill Hospital for the subject of your article? There are plenty of small hospitals in this corner of the state.”
Adrenaline spiked in her, and her gut clenched. “Pine Mill Hospital seemed to be a fair representation of the kind of health care available in—”
“A fair representation based on what? Whose assessment?”
“Well, mine. I—”
“And what past experience do you have with our hospital?” He arched an eyebrow in query, his expression still stern.
Elise scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t sound any alarms. What had the nurse told him that led him to grill her like this?
Her neck felt flushed. Her tongue dried, and when she opened her mouth to speak, the words stuck in her throat. She paused long enough to swallow hard, aware the gesture gave away her nerves. She hated being the one on the hot seat.
She opted for honesty. He’d look her name up when she left anyway, if that wasn’t what his nurse had already done. If she were to get caught in a lie, she’d cause more suspicion than being forthright…to an extent. “I was a patient here about a year ago.”
“Is that so? Under what circumstances?”
She took a deep breath, gathering her composure. She needed to regain control of the interview. She was supposed to be the one asking the questions.
“How long have you worked at this hospital, Dr. Arrimand?”
“Twenty-one years. Why were you a patient here?” he volleyed back.
“I had a baby. Where did you work before coming to Pine Mill?”
His jaw tightened. “Boy or girl?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Elise’s heart was drumming so loud, she wondered if the doctor could hear it. He could probably see the frantic cadence as it hammered against her chest. “You also work at other small hospitals in the area. Is that right?”
Another knock sounded on the office door.
“What!” he barked to the visitor.
Dr. Galloway pushed open the door and stepped in. “Sorry to interrupt, Joe, but I promised these records to Ms. Norris.”
“No problem.” Dr. Arrimand’s dark eyes stayed fixed on Elise. “We were finished here anyway.”
Dr. Galloway held out the copies he’d made, and she quickly stuffed them in the pocket of her camera bag, out of sight.
“Good luck with your article,” the coroner said as he backed out of the office.
“Thank you.” She forced a strained smile to her lips.
By the time she turned back to Dr. Arrimand, he’d risen behind his desk and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I have, Ms. Norris.”
Okay, she was getting the brush-off.
“Could we reschedule and finish the interview later?”
“That won’t be necessary. I have nothing else to say.” He stalked to his door and opened it. “You know the way out, don’t you?”
And he was in a hurry to get rid of her. Interesting.
“I…yeah.” She gathered her purse and camera bag, hiking both straps onto her shoulder as she made her way to the door. Maintaining her professionalism, she offered the doctor her hand to shake. “Thank you for your time.”
He gave her fingers a perfunctory squeeze, flashed a false smile and opened the door wider.
Elise walked out, receiving a cool look from his delivery nurse, then headed for the elevator. Once the doors slid shut, she slumped against the back wall and released a deep breath. What had that been about? He’d morphed from amiable, if grudging, host to combatant in seconds. Because of whatever the nurse had told him.
Obviously they knew she’d had Grace there, and, quite possibly, they were concerned about a malpractice lawsuit. Or was there more to it than that? Did they realize Grace had died? Or rather that they’d told her Grace had died. She was more certain than ever that something nefarious, something illegal was going on at Pine Mill Hospital.
And Dr. Arrimand had a hand in it.
Elise hustled out to her car and put her camera bag and purse on the passenger seat next to her. As soon as she got home, she would post a notice on the Parents Without Children message board asking MysteryMom to contact her. MysteryMom’s investigators needed to see the new information she had from the coroner, and Elise wanted MysteryMom to know about Dr. Arrimand’s odd behavior. While the doctor’s inhospitality didn’t prove anything, every piece in this puzzle helped create a fuller picture.
She pulled out onto the rural highway and headed back to Lagniappe. The dashboard clock said it was still early enough for her to make it home by dinnertime. She could stop by Jared’s, show him her pictures and get his opinion concerning the doctor’s behavior.
And she could see Isabel before she went to bed. Her heart gave a joyful flutter. Jared’s daughter had toddled her way into Elise’s heart, and no one was more surprised than Elise. Not that Isabel wasn’t precious and easy to love, but Elise had fallen head over heels for the pixie’s slobbery grin and wide blue eyes. Somehow, instead of a painful reminder of her loss, Isabel was healing Elise’s broken heart. And firing her resolve to find Grace. To find the truth that MysteryMom alluded to in her last email. A loud vroom pulled her out of her deliberations, and she glanced in her rearview mirror to locate the source. A large silver pickup truck barreled down the road toward her. Judging from how rapidly the truck was catching up to her, she estimated the driver had to be pushing eighty miles per hour—a dangerous speed in most circumstances, but on this twisty two-lane road, such speed was deadly.
Gritting her teeth in disgust, she squeezed the steering wheel and prepared to take defensive maneuvers, if needed. The idiot behind her might like to taunt death, but she had no desire to die today because of his foolishness.
Especially not now that she’d met Jared and Isabel.
The unbidden thought startled her, along with the gooey warmth that puddled in her gut when she thought of the father and daughter. Spending time with Jared and his daughter made her happy. For the first time since losing Grace, she had found the kind of joy that made her want to see what the new day would bring. She looked forward to the next time she could play with Isabel and share a bowl of popcorn and warm snuggles on the couch with Jared.
Elise chewed her bottom lip. Being happy was good, right? Then why did the idea of growing closer to the father and daughter fill her with such trepidation?
Her heart stutter-stepped. The more you care, the more you have to lose.
Behind her, the silver truck gunned its engine again and pulled alongside her. She sent a glare to the driver for his recklessness. Through the tint of his windows, all she could tell was that he was a heavyset man who wore a ball cap and dark sunglasses. He turned his head and met her stare.
Then veered his truck into the side of her car. Metal crunched and groaned. Her car lurched toward the shoulder.
Elise gasped and battled the steering wheel, keeping her car on the road. Barely.
The truck swerved again, crashing into her, shoving her until her right tires left the highway.
“You sonofa—What are you doing!” Panic sharpened her voice. Adrenaline spiked her pulse. Fear squeezed her chest.
He’d hit her intentionally. Even as the thought crystallized in her mind, the truck bashed into her again.
Sweat slickened her palms, and she pumped her brakes. The truck shot ahead of her when she slowed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Jerk.”
But when she rounded the next curve, he was waiting for her. A chill streaked through her when she realized he was targeting her, not just randomly bullying. The truck’s tires flung dirt and gravel from the side of the road as the driver wh
eeled back onto the highway. Neither speeding up or slowing to a crawl would shake him.
Finally, with trembling hands, she fumbled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed 911. Keeping the small phone between her cheek and shoulder was a challenge, but she wanted to keep both hands on the steering wheel. Ugh. Why hadn’t she turned the phone back on the speaker setting before she left the hospital?
When the operator answered, Elise gave her name and approximate mile mark on the highway. “There’s a truck, a silver quad-cab, and he’s trying to run me off the road!”
Wham! The truck struck again. Hard. Her head snapped forward then back.
Elise dropped the phone as she fought to keep her car from careening off into the ditch. She muttered an unladylike curse that fit the situation. The cell phone lay on the floor of the passenger’s side out of her reach.
Ahead, another sharp curve loomed, and signs proclaimed the approaching turnoff for Claiborne Lake. Her heart thundered.
Could she take the turnoff and lose the truck? She did a quick mental calculation. If she stopped on a side road, what would the guy do to her? She needed to find a populated place where she could have the protection and deterrent of witnesses. Just past the turnoff to Claiborne Lake State Park, a narrow two-lane bridge spanned the lake. Surely, this maniac wouldn’t keep up his game of chicken where they had no margin for error?
Nausea churned her gut. She had no such assurance. The driver was dangerous and completely unpredictable. Seeing the side road to the state park, Elise slowed to make the turn, but the truck slowed with her then pulled behind her.
He’s preparing to follow if I turn, she thought.
But she was wrong. When she reached the road to the state park, the truck rammed her from behind, shoving her past the turnoff and into the scrubby weeds at the side of the road. Pulse racing and sour fear climbing her throat, Elise pulled back onto the road, determined to survive the madman’s attack until she reached some sign of civilization and help.
But the truck driver had other ideas. As they approached the bridge over Claiborne Lake, he plowed into her back left fender, causing her front end to veer to the right. Off the road. Straight toward the embankment at the edge of the lake. Elise screamed when his intent became clear. He wanted her car to skid into the lake.
A jarring thump from behind. A free fall that made her stomach rise to her throat. And he’d achieved his goal.
Chapter 7
The nose of her car smacked the water, triggering her air bags and sending a jolt to her marrow. Elise’s seat belt jerked taut across her chest with a bruising force. Her camera bag and purse flew forward onto the floor.
Once at rest in the lake, the car began sinking into the water, the weight of the engine pulling the hood down first. Elise coughed, choking on the powder released by the air bag. Stunned by the crash, she stared in disbelief as brown water crept toward her windshield. But as the initial shock faded and the reality of the danger she was in penetrated her fog, she rallied, flying into action. She had only seconds to get out of the car before it was submerged. Already the water level had reached her door, and the external pressure against the door was too great to open it. If she couldn’t get out through the window soon, she’d be trapped. But the water had already shorted the car’s electric wiring. The window wouldn’t budge.
Jerking off her seat belt, she fumbled in her map pocket for the glass-busting hammer she kept there for just this type emergency. Before breaking her window, she grabbed her camera bag, purse and phone from the passenger-side floor. After zipping her cell in the waterproof camera bag and looping the straps around her neck, she took a deep breath for courage. She shielded her face from the window and gave the safety glass a firm whack with the spiked end of the hammer.
Shards of glass rained down and lake water, now at the base of her window, spilled into her car. Shoving the deflated air bag out of her way, she scrambled to hoist herself through the broken window. The jagged edges of broken glass sliced her hands as she fought her way out of the car. The chilly water soaked her clothes and stole her breath.
The car had landed only a dozen or so yards from the bank, and she began swimming in that direction as quickly as she could. The weight of her camera and purse dragged at her, and if she’d had farther to swim, she’d have ditched them rather than risk overtaxing herself before she reached shore. But her camera was her livelihood, and she wouldn’t give it up if she didn’t have to.
Finally after what felt like an eternity, she dragged herself up on the muddy bank and collapsed, panting. With trembling hands, she fumbled the zipper of the front pocket on her camera bag open and fished out her phone. Please work!
The screen lit when she opened it. Yes! Thank goodness for her waterproof camera bag. She prayed her camera had survived in good shape, too.
The crunch of footsteps in the dry leaves and gravel of the lakeshore roused her, and she glanced up to see who was coming. Sunlight backlit the man who approached, making it difficult to see his face.
But the large stick in his hand was clear enough. As was the pickup truck parked at the top of the embankment.
Panic swelled in her chest. A fresh surge of fear shot adrenaline to her limbs. She shoved to her knees just in time to see him swing the branch toward her in an arc. Elise gasped and raised her arms to protect her face, but the hefty stick cracked against her temple.
“Night, night,” the man said as she slumped to the ground. And the world faded to black.
After leaving another message on Elise’s voice mail, Jared tossed his cell phone on his kitchen counter and frowned. Where was she? What was taking so long?
“I knew I should have gone with her,” he muttered aloud.
“Da-dee?”
He raised his gaze to Isabel who wore a liberal coating of applesauce on her hands and face. So much for letting her feed herself. Had she gotten any of the food in her mouth?
“Whatcha need, princess?” Jared grabbed a rag from a drawer to wipe her mouth before joining her at the kitchen table.
“Da-dee?” she repeated, holding a bite of her hot dog out to him in her grubby hand.
The innocent offering stirred warmth in his chest, and he smiled at her as he swiped at her dirty cheeks. “No, thanks, Izzy. I’ll eat later. You finish your dinner.”
Isabel popped the hot dog into her mouth and chewed, looking like a greedy chipmunk with full cheeks.
On the counter, his phone buzzed, and he hurried over to answer it. Elise, his caller ID read, and he released a relieved sigh.
“Thank goodness. I was getting worried. What was the hold up?” he said by way of greeting.
“Jared…” Her voice warbled, and if he had to guess, he’d say she was crying.
His stomach pitched, and his fingers tightened around the phone. “Elise? What’s wrong? What did you find out?”
“Someone f-followed me. R-ran me off the road.”
Static crackled over the line, while his nerves jangled with alarm. “What? Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I guess. I may…c-concussion…hit me over the—”
“Elise, you’re breaking up. Say that again. Did someone hit you?” Jared paced closer to the window hoping to get better reception, even though he knew the bad connection was likely on her end.
“Car’s in the wa—” More static. “Stole my c—”
An icy ball of fear lodged in his gut. He might not know the specifics, but enough frightening words had seeped through the static to tell him Elise was in trouble, possibly even in danger. He flew into action, grabbing his car keys and jacket, even before he knew where he was going or what he was doing. He only knew Elise needed help, and every protective instinct in him shouted for him to rush to her rescue.
“…to call the police. He might come b—”
“Elise, where are you?” He glanced to Isabel and realized he couldn’t take her with him. Not if there was even a remote chance of danger. He began calculating where he
could leave Izzy as he did a quick wipe of her mouth and fumbled one-handed to unfasten the safety strap in her highchair. Michelle was still sick…
“Stranded…bridge over Claiborne L—”
Lake, he finished mentally. He pictured the highway to Pine Mill and remembered crossing Claiborne Lake about ten miles south of Lagniappe.
“I’m coming. I have to drop Isabel at my parents’ on my way out, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?”
“Hurry,” she said, and the static couldn’t mask the tears in her voice.
He scooped Isabel up and grabbed the diaper bag by the door as he rushed to his car.
Concussion. Stole. Stranded. The words taunted him, painting horrific scenarios in his mind as he backed out of his driveway.
Dear God, please let her be all right. He couldn’t bear losing another woman he cared about.
The sound of a car engine and tires on gravel brought Elise’s head up from where she huddled, shivering on the lakeshore. A sheriff’s deputy stepped out of his cruiser and started down the hill toward her.
Relief whooshed from her in a heavy exhale.
“They’re here,” she told the 911 operator who’d insisted she stay on the line until the police arrived. She thumbed off her phone and struggled to her feet as the deputy climbed down the embankment from the road.
Although she was glad to see any help at this point, she really wished Jared was the one pulling off the highway to her rescue. She longed for his arms to hold her and for him to murmur soft reassurances that she was safe. She’d called him as soon as she came to from the blow to her head that had knocked her out. She’d shoved aside the nagging questions about what it meant that he was the person she’d turned to, the one she’d wanted most at her time of need. If she were growing too attached to him, counting on him too heavily, she could deal with the repercussions later. Right now, she needed his strength, warmth and friendship. The peace and security she felt when she was around him.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” the deputy called, eyeing her bleeding temple then the car in the water.
Operation Baby Rescue Page 9
