by Lily George
“Did you check the back door?” Blaze sank his teeth into the chocolate éclair Taylor knew Karah Lee had hoped to save for herself. The kid caught her expression and his dark, thick eyebrows rose with a question. He nudged a cruller in her direction.
She picked it up with a grimace. “I had no reason to.”
“You made an appointment last night with Jerrod. He’s due in at ten?” Taylor asked her. “We may need to ask him a question or two.”
“He wasn’t in any shape to go snooping last night,” she said. “We can’t just go accusing patients of breaking and entering.”
Taylor nodded. The man had done nothing while he was here except sleep, and he’d done it loudly enough for Taylor to hear it all the way from here in the staff break room.
“Everybody knows the senator’s coming to town Monday to encourage a good vote,” Blaze said. “Maybe something’s up with that. A few people don’t want the hospital here.”
“So why check out Karah Lee’s file? Few people know Kemper is Karah Lee’s father.” Taylor understood that Karah Lee desperately needed to separate herself from her father’s overbearing shadow. When she came to Hideaway this past summer, she purposely kept her father’s name quiet. A state senator could garner a lot of attention, and this particular state senator tended to be outspoken and controversial.
He was a rogue. A popular rogue with the citizens of Missouri at the moment, but one from whom Karah Lee preferred to distance herself. She had deep scars from past history.
“There’s no evidence of a break-in,” Blaze said. “The doors and windows were locked when I arrived. Unless the intruder had a key, it would be impossible to lock a door or window behind him.”
“I’ll call the sheriff,” Taylor said. “We’ll check it out.”
The nurse opened the door and stuck her head in. “First patient’s ready, Karah Lee.”
Karah Lee was taking a rare break with a second cup of coffee at her desk when the nurse, Jill Cooper, slipped through the door and closed it behind her, holding a chart in her hand. “You say the name of your patient last night was Jerrod Houston?”
Karah Lee set her cup down and pushed back from the desk. “Is he here for his appointment?”
Jill placed the chart in front of her. “Young guy, maybe late twenties, early thirties, good-looking, black hair?”
“Yes.” Karah Lee felt a renewed spurt of anxiety. “What’s wrong?”
Jill leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Did he show you any kind of ID? Insurance card or anything?”
“He was a cash patient.”
“I don’t think his name’s Jerrod Houston.”
This can’t be happening. The whole thing was getting more and more spooky.
“Why would he lie about his name?” Especially after stalking her for two days?
Jill slid into a chair across from Karah Lee. “Unless my eyes are deceiving me, that guy went to school right here in Hideaway. He was a few grades behind my kid sister. He always followed her around like a puppy dog—like half the boys in school. He was quiet, even morose. He flushed bright red whenever she talked to him.”
“If you don’t remember his name, why don’t you think he’s using the right one?” Karah Lee asked.
“Houston is a memorable name. Maybe I’ll give Noelle a call when things slow down a little and see if she can tell me anything.”
Karah Lee picked up the chart.
“You want me to accompany you?” Jill asked.
Karah Lee hesitated. Yes, she did. What was this man up to? “I’ll be fine, Jill. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
Taylor knelt on the ground outside the back door of the clinic beside Fawn Morrison, checking for footprints, fingerprints, tool marks on the lock or signs of forced entry on one of the windows.
The clinic wasn’t the most secure place in town, even after the June debacle. The general consensus had been that no alarm system could have kept that armed hit man from forcing his way into the building. So far, though, there’d been no sign of illegal entry.
“When you spent the night here last summer,” Taylor asked Fawn, “you slipped in this door before they locked up that night, right?”
“That’s right. Karah Lee’s still avoiding you, isn’t she?”
“Let’s focus on the issue at hand, okay? How did you escape Blaze’s notice that night when he locked up?”
“I hid in the hot water closet in the bathroom, but he checks that now.” The girl gave Taylor an impudent grin. “Karah Lee doesn’t like me talking about you, either.”
When Karah Lee agreed to be Fawn’s guardian this past summer, she couldn’t have realized what she was getting into. Not only had Fawn been a sixteen-year-old runaway from an impossible home life, but she had become a fugitive when she witnessed a murder in Branson. Sick and frightened, she had ended up here at the clinic. If not for Karah Lee, she would be dead now. Karah Lee was the only person Taylor could think of who was headstrong enough to handle this independent child, but they had formed a strong bond.
“She needs more time,” he said at last, glancing up toward the second story windows. Could someone have found a place to hide when the clinic was open, then done their snooping after it closed?
The sheriff had fingerprinted all the computer terminals. It could be a while before they had any results.
“She loves you, you know,” Fawn said softly. “She’s been bummed ever since you broke up.”
“I didn’t do the breaking up,” he muttered.
“She’s got issues with marriage. Now she won’t even let me go out on a date with this cute guy from church. I mean, she acts as if I’m going to elope or something.”
“I’m sure you told her what you thought about that,” Taylor said.
“I told her not to take her disappointing love life out on me. Just because she’s too scared to make a commitment doesn’t mean—”
“Ouch! Don’t you think that’s a little rough?”
Fawn grimaced at him. “I don’t know why I try so hard for you. If you and Karah Lee get married, that’ll make you my foster father. Then it’ll be two against one.”
“That’ll even the odds a little.”
She was silent for a few moments, then said, “So you wouldn’t mind putting up with me if you marry Karah Lee? You won’t make me leave?” She tried to sound casual about the question, but Taylor heard the vulnerability beneath the words, and he saw the carefully averted gaze as she waited for an answer.
Time to be serious. “You know I lost my son, don’t you?”
She nodded, looking up at him, her blue eyes narrowed against the sunlight that had edged over the top of the building.
“Well, I would’ve liked more kids. I have this theory that once you’ve had children, there’s always space in your heart for more. At least that’s the way I feel.”
She studied his expression for a few seconds, eyes still narrowed. “You’re saying I’m a child?”
He grinned. “What I’m saying is that you would always be a welcome part of my family.”
Something in her expression relaxed. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad. Now if you’ll just convince Mom what a happy family we could be.”
He remembered something Karah Lee had said a few weeks ago. When she and Shona were growing up, they never seemed to have a happy family because someone was always fighting. If he and Karah Lee married, would they have a happy family?
Chapter Five
Jerrod Houston was settled on the exam bed in two when Karah Lee forced an expression of calm assurance on her face and entered with his chart. His lightly tanned face was no longer splotchy. He was a good-looking man, with a strong jawline, high cheekbones and dark gray eye
s beneath well-arched, dark brows.
Who was he, really? She should have called Taylor to meet her here last night. The guy could be a serial killer, for all she knew. Killers had found this tiny lakeside town before.
“Sorry about last night,” Jerrod said. His voice was full and mellow, no sign of wheezing or hoarseness.
“For being sick?” She set his chart onto the desk, stalling for time, willing her heart to stop its racing. “Don’t apologize for keeping us in business. How are you feeling today?”
He shrugged. “It took a loud alarm clock to get me here.”
“That isn’t unusual. Allergies can do that, and so can some of the medication I gave you last night.” She studied his features more closely. Of course, she didn’t know the man, but he wasn’t making a lot of eye contact this morning. Shy? Or did he have a hidden agenda?
Why had she rejected Jill’s offer to accompany her in here? And why was she suddenly so frightened by him?
Despite her fear, he still looked familiar. Was it possible she’d seen him somewhere before?
“I heard an interesting rumor today.” She paused and swallowed. Did she really want to get into this? “You know how rumors are in small towns, don’t you?”
He blinked, then nodded. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she heard a momentary pause in his breathing.
“You’ve…lived in a small town before?” she asked.
“Sure have.”
Leave it alone, Karah Lee. Let someone else handle it. But she had never been one to back away from a confrontation, and she wasn’t going to go all skittish now. “This one, maybe?”
He looked up at her. “Does it matter where I grew up, Dr. Fletcher?”
She flinched at the sudden chill in his expression. Don’t show the fear. “Karah Lee,” she said, wondering if he could hear the tremor in her voice. “We’re pretty casual around here.”
He held her gaze for a tense moment. She was on the verge of leaving the room when he said quietly, “I wouldn’t know. We didn’t have a clinic in town when I was growing up here. Old Doc Glass had an office upstairs, but I didn’t see much of him.”
“So you did live here?”
“I don’t anymore,” he said. “And where I grew up has nothing to do with my allergy attack.”
She suddenly remembered his comment last night about unfinished business. What kind of business could he be talking about? Why did she get the impression that it might concern her? The look in his eyes when he looked at her? Or maybe the fact that he seemed to have shown up wherever she was the past couple of days.
“It doesn’t matter to me whether or not you grew up here.” She tried to keep her voice casual. “But I get curious when someone tells me his name, and I find out later that isn’t it.” There you go, Karah Lee Fletcher. Jump in with both feet. Kemper MacDonald isn’t the only rogue in this family.
“I didn’t lie to anyone.” Impatience sharpened his words. “My name’s Jerrod Houston now, okay?”
Every instinct told her to get out of the exam room now and let law enforcement check him out. But her instincts were a little skewed lately. She resented the fear that seemed to attack her at every awkward situation, every off-key word or comment. She refused to allow her fears to shape her life or her actions.
She completed her exam, which revealed no residual complications from last night’s emergency.
“I hear the great state senator’s coming to town,” Jerrod said as she sat down at the terminal to update his online chart.
“That’s what they say.” She kept her voice casual.
“And I hear you’re related to him.”
She typed for a moment, made several mistakes, had to go back and correct them. “It’s a small town. You’re likely to hear all sorts of rumors flying around.”
“Would that one be true?” It sounded like an accusation.
She pivoted on her stool. “Don’t tell me you’re a reporter out for a story on the senator’s visit. If that’s why you’ve been popping up wherever I’ve been the past couple of days—”
“Did I whip out a recorder and interview you last night?”
“No, and you’re not going to do it now, either.”
“So you are his daughter? And yet, you don’t share the same last name. That might make a person curious.” There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice as he mimicked her earlier comment.
“But there’s a difference,” she snapped. “I’ve never approached you, sought you out or tried to strike up a conversation with you in a restaurant.” She completed his chart, logged off and stood to escort him from the room. “You’re in good shape. I’ll just have to advise you to avoid nuts of any kind until you’re tested by an allergist. I don’t think a follow-up appointment will be necessary, but I am going to write you a prescription for an epi pen. Call the clinic if you find you’re in trouble again.”
She left the room, handed the chart to Blaze and went to her office, relieved to be out of the man’s presence.
Karah Lee looked frazzled that afternoon when she stepped out of the clinic. She stopped when she saw Taylor standing on the sidewalk, waiting for her, and holding up a peace offering—a chocolate éclair from the bakery. He’d known she couldn’t resist.
Her expression revealed the process of her thoughts. At first was the joyful smile that lit her golden amber eyes the way they must have lit at Christmas when she was a kid. Then came the obvious silent reminder, Oh, yeah, we’re not seeing each other anymore.
“If this is a bribe, it’s working,” she said, taking the éclair he held out to her.
“Better believe it. Where are you headed?”
“I’m going home to check on Fawn. She still needs a lot of help on a major homework project this weekend.”
“I’ll walk with you. Anything on Jerrod?”
“Like what?” There was an unusual sharpness in her voice.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a real name, where he lives, what he’s doing back in Hideaway.”
Her steps slowed. She frowned up at him. “You sure get around.”
“I’ve asked a few questions here and there. Jill put me in touch with her kid sister, Noelle, and she told me Jerrod’s real name in school was Jerry Clark, so Jerry would be short for Jerrod.”
“Any idea why the change of name?”
“Could be the fact that his father, Lester Clark, went to prison for murder when they lived here.”
With a swiftly indrawn breath, Karah Lee stopped. “Murder?”
“Now do you understand why I don’t like you meeting patients alone at the clinic at night?”
Her face paled. “Taylor, I think this man specifically singled me out. I’ve seen him too many times in the past couple of days for it to be coincidence. I was just beginning to convince myself he was a reporter out for a story, because he asked about Dad’s upcoming trip down here.”
Taylor hesitated to tell her the rest—she was already spooked. But the sheriff would need to know what transpired between Karah Lee and Jerrod.
“What is it?” she asked softly. “I know that look. What aren’t you telling me?”
He met her gaze. “Tom ran ‘Wants and Warrants’ on Jerrod and his alias. There were none noted. But he did find one interesting tidbit of information. Jerrod got a permit for a new handgun two weeks ago.”
“Oh…” She reached for his arm the way a child would reach for her father, for protection. “Last night I asked what he was doing in town. He said he had some unfinished business. What if Dad had something to do with Jerrod’s father’s conviction? Or what if Jerrod thinks he does?”
“I don’t like this,” Taylor said. “I know you don’t want to be controlled by your father’s actions in any way, but you need protection, at l
east until Kemper leaves Hideaway.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t need a bodyguard, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“You realize, don’t you, that he’s probably our best suspect for this morning’s hacking, until proven otherwise.”
“Tell Tom and Greg to increase the security for Dad when he arrives. The only reason Jerrod would come to me—if he’s even doing that—is to get to Dad for some reason.”
He walked beside her in silence, knowing she was fighting fear. But would she admit it to him? No. He was afraid for her, and he knew that she knew this. Sometimes they seemed so in tune it felt as if she could tell him what he was thinking before he knew it himself. When they weren’t fighting.
Karah Lee wasn’t usually the one who picked the fight, he was. He worried so much about her. And it was only getting worse. He didn’t have the strength to back off. But if he wanted to keep her in his life, he would have to, wouldn’t he?
Please, Lord, keep her safe. She’s in your hands. And please heal this relationship. I believe You meant for us to be together.
Chapter Six
It had become a habit for Karah Lee to eat at the Lakeside Bed and Breakfast after the Saturday morning rush at the clinic. Today the buffet held all the scrumptious delicacies for which Bertie’s place had become famous. It included traditional breakfast fare, but their specialty was black walnut waffles with strawberry topping, Karah Lee’s favorite food in the world.
She was just picking up a plate when someone spoke behind her. “I thought I’d find you here.”
She stiffened, feeling a shock of fear run through her. Jerrod stood behind her, studying the food instead of looking at her.
Was he carrying that gun Taylor said he’d purchased? Keep it calm, Karah Lee.
“Have you had more allergy symptoms?”
“I’m fine.”
“Stay away from the waffles unless you have a death wish.” She pushed her tray forward, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone. She placed two waffles on her plate, then drizzled them with fresh strawberry syrup.
