by Gail Barrett
Marge cracked a smile. “I had a slice once.”
Bethany nodded. “So I went to the library at Montana State and used their database to do some research. Eventually, I came across a study involving a drug similar to Rheumectatan that caused reactions in patients with damaged livers. One of the reactions was sudden cardiac arrest, especially in post-menopausal women like Mrs. Bolter.”
The supervisor removed her glasses and placed them on her desk. “The pharmaceutical company would have known all that before the trial began. If the side effect applied to Rheumectatan, it would have come out.”
“You’re right. It should have come out. But what if it didn’t…for whatever reason?”
Marge leaned back in her chair, a fine line creasing her brow. She tapped a finger against her lips for several seconds, then leaned forward again. “Go on.”
“I phoned Adam right away and emailed him a copy of the dissertation. He promised to make sure you got it, too. He also said you’d halt the study until you were sure the patients were safe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He didn’t mention anything to me.”
Bethany closed her eyes. She could no longer ignore the proof. Adam had lied. He’d set her up to take the blame for something she didn’t do. But why?
She struggled to breathe, the terrible betrayal leaving her raw. “I know I didn’t give Mrs. Bolter the wrong dose. There has to be another reason she died.”
“The records show you made a mistake.”
“They’re wrong. Someone must have falsified them.”
“The autopsy backed them up.”
Bethany’s head swam. The autopsy had shown the wrong dose? But how? “I don’t know exactly what happened, but there must be an explanation. Adam was working that night. And if he lied about the study…”
“That’s quite an accusation.”
“So is blaming me for something I didn’t do.”
Her eyes thoughtful, Marge picked up the flash drive and turned it over in her hand. “I’ll call in a forensic computer scientist to check the records. They can tell if anyone tampered with them. I’ll need a copy of your plane ticket with the time of your flight. And I’ll halt the study until we’re sure the patients are safe.”
Still reeling, Bethany managed to nod. “Thank you.”
“You’re still suspended until we investigate this thoroughly,” Marge warned.
“I understand.”
“And I don’t want you mentioning this to anyone. If you’re right and someone went to the trouble of falsifying records…”
She could be in terrible danger. “I won’t.”
She wobbled to her feet, feeling numb. She’d trusted Adam. She considered him her friend. But he’d set her up, tried to incriminate her in the patient’s death. And in the process, he’d robbed her of every last illusion she’d had.
Had her deception hurt Cole this badly?
Unable to bear that dreadful thought, she returned to her apartment. She tossed her coat and purse on the sofa, then went to her living room window and gazed down at the busy street. Cars raced past. Skyscrapers loomed around her, blocking her view of the leaden sky. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool glass, trying to bring sense to her suddenly shattered world.
Mrs. Bolter had died. That was a fact. She might have suffered a reaction to the drug, which Adam had covered up. But what motive could he possibly have? Did he fear a malpractice suit? But that didn’t make sense. No one knew about the potential side effect or even Mrs. Bolter’s stint in rehab. So why had he needed to lie?
She shook her head. One thing she did know—Cole’s aunt Bonnie Gene was right. No one was all good or all bad. Not Adam. Not Cole’s father. Not her own father, who was reduced to staying with a friend in town. Not even her.
And she’d learned something else in the past two weeks. There was no perfect place. She’d come to Chicago to reinvent herself, thinking she could break free of stereotypes, that people would see her as herself, not just a member of her race.
But instead of finding freedom, she’d become anonymous and lost, one of millions of unknown people living in a noisy, crowded place.
She turned around and eyed the apartment that had meant so much to her only a short time ago—the Ethan Allen sofa she’d scrimped to buy, the shelves overflowing with books. She realized she could walk away right now and wouldn’t miss a single thing, except the coffee table her father had made.
She walked across the carpet to the coffee table, then lowered herself to the couch. She trailed her hand along the smooth oak legs, the satiny wood her father had patiently sanded and stained. She splayed her hands across the top, her gaze lingering on the arrowhead collection arranged beneath the protective glass. And images crowded her mind, a rapid-fire barrage of memories she could no longer stem—riding her horse across the plains with Cole. Hunting for arrowheads together at the teepee ring, his blue eyes crinkling into a smile. Digging side by side beneath the buffalo jump, then rolling together in the grass, laughing and making love.
And suddenly, she understood. The truth had been here all along, literally in front of her face. Her heart wasn’t in Chicago. It never had been. She belonged in Montana, just as these arrowheads did. It had just taken her a while to realize that.
Maybe she’d had to leave Montana to escape the prejudice and test her wings in a different place. But her trip home had made her realize that she liked living in Maple Cove. She liked seeing people she knew around town, even if they weren’t always ideal. Chicago had great amenities—theaters, museums, amazing shopping and cafés. But she could find those things in Montana, too.
And who was she trying to fool? She could do the work she loved in Montana. There were plenty of clinics and hospitals, including one in Honey Creek. And more importantly, she loved Cole.
But did Cole love her? Did he need her? Would he want her to come back?
Her stomach jittered hard. She squeezed her arms to her chest, trying to quell the attack of nerves. She thought back to that night in the mountains and the tender way he’d made love, and the answer hit her upside the head. Of course he loved her. He wouldn’t have reacted with such fury to her deception if he hadn’t cared.
But he didn’t trust her—and why should he? She’d deceived him about her father. She’d run out on him twice. If she wanted a future with him she had to prove that she’d stick around.
She nibbled her lip, suddenly uncertain—because her father was right about something else. She didn’t like to reveal any weakness. Maybe it was because she’d grown up around cowboys. Or maybe it had begun with Tony, who’d thrived on inciting her fear. Whatever the cause, she never showed any vulnerability or risked her heart.
But it was time to start. If her father had sacrificed his home for her mother, she could bend her pride for the man she loved.
She jumped to her feet and rushed to the phone in the kitchen, creating lists in her mind. She had to call and resign her job. She had to arrange for a moving company to ship her coffee table and books. She could fit her clothes in a couple of suitcases and donate the rest to a charity, along with her dishes and bed.
A knock sounded at the door.
Her thoughts instantly leaped to Cole.
But that was ridiculous. He wasn’t in Chicago. It was probably her neighbor dropping off the mail.
Trying to hold back her burgeoning hopes, she hurried to the door. She peeked out the peephole, but no one came into view—which was odd. Unless her neighbor had simply left the mail on the floor…
Her pulse accelerating, she put her ear to the door. Silence. She dithered, the Raven Head Society’s threat springing to mind. But that was silly. They had no reason to harm her now. And the hall appeared empty from what she could see. Making a face at her imagination, she slipped off the chain and peered out.
The door flew open and slammed against her. Crying out, she stumbled back. A man muscled his way inside, knocking her to her knees. Startled, she sc
rambled back up.
“Adam.”
He stood between her and the door, his eyes wild, his breathing ragged and loud. His face was flushed, his normally meticulous blond hair awry. He wore one of his usual tailored suits, indicating he’d just finished his morning rounds.
Her mind whirled frantically through options. He couldn’t know that she’d talked to the supervisor. Marge wouldn’t have let that slip. So if she could just bluff her way through…
“You startled me.” Did her voice sound too high? She struggled to tone it down while her pulse went berserk. “I’m glad you stopped by, though. Do you have time to talk? You wouldn’t believe all the things I went through in Montana—even a stampede.”
Afraid she was starting to ramble, she turned toward the kitchen, her gaze darting to the phone. But a click stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Not so fast.”
She slowly turned to face him. A gun had appeared in his hand. And dread pooled deep in her gut. “What… What’s this about?”
“As if you don’t know.” His hand trembled. His Adam’s apple dipped, betraying his unease. So he didn’t like handling a weapon. If she could keep him talking and find a way to distract him…
“You weren’t supposed to survive that attack,” he said.
“Attack?” She blinked, not needing to feign her confusion now. “You mean those men in the mountains? But how did you—”
“Mountains? No. In Bozeman. That idiot watched the ranch for days, waiting for a chance to get you alone, and he still didn’t get it right.”
The truck that tried to run her off the road. “That was you?”
“Not me. A man I hired.”
“But why? Why would you want to hurt me? I thought we were friends.”
A flush darkened his face. His gun wobbled, and guilt flashed through his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I had no choice. It was the only way I could get that drug approved after Mrs. Bolter died.”
“The drug? But what…”
“Why do you think? I need the money. I’ve got medical-school loans up to my ears. Rhyne-tex promised me a bonus if I got it approved. And I invested in their stock, so I’ll make a bundle there, too.”
The pharmaceutical company had bribed him? “But that’s illegal.”
He laughed. “Oh, come on, Bethany. You can’t be that naive. Everyone does it—professors, medical-school boards, doctors… Drugs are big business. There are billions of dollars involved. There’s no reason I can’t take a cut.”
She stared at him, unable to believe she’d misjudged him so badly. How could she have considered him a friend? “So you’ll sacrifice your patients for money.”
“No one was supposed to die. I thought the drug was safe.”
“But it’s not safe. Mrs. Bolter died. How can you let them approve it after that?”
“They can pull it off the market later. I only need to get it approved. I’ll get my bonus. I’ll sell off my stocks and make a mint. I don’t care what happens after that.”
Her anger rose. “So you set me up to take the blame.”
“I had to. I couldn’t risk that they’d stop the study. Not when we’re so close.”
“But—”
“I told you. I can’t let them stop that trial.” His eyes turned hard, and he raised the gun. “Even if you have to die.”
Chapter 16
Bethany stared down the barrel of the gun, stark fear slithering down her spine. She took in the tremor of Adam’s hand, the desperation in his crazed eyes. Every cell in her body went numb.
“It won’t do any good,” she said. “I’ve talked to Marge. She already knows what you did.”
His eyes flickered with uncertainty, and she forged on. “I gave her the dissertation this morning, just before you came. I told her you changed the records. She’s calling in a forensic computer scientist to investigate it now.”
He shook his head. Perspiration broke out on his brow. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying. It’s the truth. Call her and ask. I tell you, I was just there.”
His gun wobbled. His face turned a sickening gray. She transferred her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to leap his way.
But he narrowed his eyes and steadied his aim. “It’s too late. I’m in too deep. If I’m going down, so are you.”
Panic broke free inside her. She couldn’t die. She had too much to live for. She had to stop him—but how?
Her head light, her pulse frenzied, she struggled to think through the fear. “Listen, Adam. Let’s think this out. There’s no need for you to—”
The doorbell buzzed. Adam’s eyes flew to the door.
Bethany didn’t hesitate. She lunged to his side and grabbed his wrist. He whipped up his arm, his strength catching her off-balance, and it was all she could do to hang on.
The gun went off. Ceiling plaster rained down, the sulfuric smell of gunpowder filling the air. Her ears ringing from the gunshot, she clung to his arm, struggling to wrest the weapon from his iron grip.
But desperation had lent him strength. He turned and slammed her against the wall. She cried out, trying to stay upright and gouged his arm with her nails. The door burst open, but she ignored it. Adam rammed her back even harder, bringing tears of pain to her eyes.
She kneed his groin. He let out a howl of outrage, then twisted and flung her aside. She fell to the floor, pain shooting through her knees and arms, panic pounding her brain. She whipped up her head, then froze, caught in the crosshairs of Adam’s gun.
Triumph lit his eyes. A wild sound formed in her throat. And she knew in that instant that she would die.
But a man barreled out of nowhere and tackled Adam. The pistol went off again. The two men wrestled to the floor, grappling for supremacy, and Bethany leaped out of their way.
The man slammed his fist into Adam’s face. Adam cried out and loosened his grip. The gun skittered across the floor, and Bethany rushed to pick it up.
Her pulse going berserk, she whirled around and aimed. The newcomer turned, and she glimpsed his face. Cole. But how…?
She gave her head a hard shake, forcing the distraction aside. She circled the men, trying to get a clear shot at Adam, but he was still fighting, moving too fast for her to see.
More fists flew. The men grunted and rolled, crashing against the table and scattering chairs. Adam was strong, but no match for Cole, who’d worked for years on the ranch. Cole jumped to his feet and drew back his fist, putting the power of his steel-hard body behind it, then unleashed the explosive punch. A sickening thud rent the air. Adam crumpled, unconscious, on the floor.
Her heart rioting, Bethany kept the gun trained on Adam as Cole straightened and stepped away. But there was no need. He’d knocked Adam out cold.
Cole tugged off his belt, flipped Adam over, and secured his arms. Then he lurched to his feet and turned to face her, his breath loud in the silent room. She clicked on the safety and slowly lowered the gun.
His eyes met hers. Her lips quivered, the terror finally penetrating the adrenaline surge. Cole strode over, took the gun from her hand and set it on the table, then dragged her into his arms.
Her knees went weak. She clung to his massive shoulders, unable to believe he was really here. He’d saved her. If he hadn’t shown up, she would have died.
Tremors wracked her body. Hot tears sprang to her eyes. She held him close, giving herself over to his power and strength, wanting to crawl right into his skin.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked, his voice rough against her ear.
“Adam. The doctor I work with. He set me up…” Her voice broke.
“Shhh.” Cole tightened his hold, burying her face against his neck. “Don’t talk now. I’ll hear the story later when you tell the police.”
Still trembling, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked up. “Oh, God, Cole…” Her voice cracked. “If you hadn’t…”
“It’s all right. It’s over
.”
Thanks to him.
Bethany was still struggling to gather her composure a short time later after the police had taken their statements and hauled her coworker away. She turned to Cole, overcome with a myriad of conflicting emotions—shock, longing, relief—and dragged in a shuddering breath. As horrific as that ordeal had been, it wasn’t finished yet. Cole had saved her life, rescuing her from Adam’s attack. But the next few minutes would determine her future—and whether it would be with him.
Afraid to hope, but needing desperately to know the answer, she stepped closer and met his eyes. “Cole…why are you here?”
He reached out and tipped up her chin. His solemn blue eyes held hers. “I couldn’t let you go. I love you. I always have. I wanted to beg you for another chance.”
Beg her? More tears flooded her eyes. She bit down hard on her lip, fearing if she let herself cry she wouldn’t stop. He loved her. He was willing to give her a chance. “You forgive me for lying to you?”
His thumb stroked her jaw, regret filling his eyes. “Forgive you? I’m the one who needs forgiveness.”
“But—”
“I love you, Bethany. I always have. But I was too scared, too caught up in the past to understand—to really see what you needed to do. And I blamed you for things that weren’t your fault.”
Her heart wrenched. Tears tracked down her cheek. “I love you, too, Cole. In all these years, I’ve never stopped.”
He gazed at her with an expression so loving, so filled with wonderment that her throat closed up, and her heart nearly burst from her chest.
He gently cradled her head as if she were the most precious being on earth. And then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her until her head swam, the shivers eased from her body, and reality faded away.
After an eternity, he ended the kiss and hugged her against his heart, exactly where she wanted to be—surrounded by his strength, his tenderness, his love.
“I’ll move here,” he said.
