by Laura Scott
“He shot at you?” Gabby asked, her voice rising in alarm. She reached out and lightly grasped his arm. “Were you hit? Are you all right?”
Once again, he was touched by her concern. He reminded himself that her worry over an injury wasn’t personal, she clearly took patient care very seriously. After all, she’d taken the risk of driving out to an isolated cabin to remove a bullet lodged in his shoulder. The IV antibiotics and fluids she’d given him had certainly saved his life. He wanted to believe the earnest determination in her eyes was only for him, but more likely the way she was with all her patients.
He needed to remember that she was someone he was trying to protect. Getting emotionally involved would only backfire, in a big way.
“I’m fine, but his shot was close enough that I hit the ground, which gave him the time he needed to get away. And since he had been wearing gloves, we don’t expect to get any fingerprints.”
“I can’t believe this,” she moaned. “What is going on? Why is this happening?”
He had the same questions, so he glanced over at her. “Are you sure you don’t know what this is all about?” he asked, trying to keep his tone nonthreatening. “You must have some idea what this guy wants from you.”
“I don’t,” Gabby insisted, clearly exasperated. “Why would I put my career, or more important, my life, on the line? This is crazy, my only hobbies are reading mysteries and running, my career is too demanding for anything more.”
Shane pulled into her driveway, letting the car idle as he turned in his seat to face her. “Gabby, listen, I can protect you if you tell me the truth,” he said in a gruff tone. “But if you lie to me and the truth comes out later, there won’t be anything I can do to help you.”
Gabby lifted her wide green eyes to his and he could clearly see the anguish reflected there. “I promise you that I have no idea what’s going on.”
Shane desperately wanted to believe her. “What about old boyfriends or maybe a former fiancé?” he pressed. “Surely you must have made some enemies over the past ten years.”
Gabby slowly shook her head. “I’ve spent the last decade completing medical school, finishing my residency and proving myself a capable trauma surgeon.” She hesitated, then continued, “There was one boyfriend during my residency, and I did break things off, but I can’t imagine he cares about that now all these years later.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Shane said brusquely. “Anyone else?”
“Well, there were a couple of residents in the past ten years who resented me, basically making my life miserable, but I highly doubt either one of them is still holding a grudge.”
“Why don’t you give me their names anyway,” Shane said. “Including the guy you dated. It wouldn’t hurt to touch base with them.”
Gabby pressed her lips together in a frown. “It’s ridiculous to think they’re involved,” she reiterated.
“Then what’s the harm in doing a background check, and validating where all three of these guys were last night so we can cross them off the list?” There was a long pause before she conceded. “Fine. The man I dated briefly was Damon Keller—I have no clue where he is now. Eric Ambrose was the resident who resented me the most. I was chosen to be the chief resident over him and he did not take it well. But I heard he relocated to the East Coast somewhere.” She released a sharp breath, then continued, “Joe Chasco was another resident who didn’t appreciate the fact that I was given the position, either, and he and Eric made my life extremely difficult. Joe relocated to Chicago, I believe.”
Shane wrote the names down, intending to follow up on both of those guys. “Chicago isn’t that far away,” he said as he scribbled in his notebook. “Any other residents who resented you?”
“No, those two were by far the worst.”
He tucked the notebook back in his pocket, wondering at the adversity Gabby must have faced during her career. Was it always like this for female surgeons? Or had she been a target because of her genius IQ?
He could see why some of the physicians she worked with might be intimidated by her eidetic memory, but weren’t they all supersmart? So why pick on Gabby? His mouth hardened into a tight line. He didn’t like the thought of people, especially men, treating her badly.
Shane pulled himself up short, reminding himself that his interest in Gabby wasn’t personal. He wasn’t about to risk opening himself up for another misguided relationship. Besides, Gabby was clearly not interested in him that way, either. He’d noticed the way she shrank away when she’d tripped over him at the door to the call room. And not once had she flirted even the littlest bit.
He needed to keep his distance from Gabby.
Once they figured out who this creep was and arrested him, they’d both go their separate ways. Leaving mutual respect and friendship remaining between them.
* * *
Her house didn’t look any different, Gabby noted as she slid out of Shane’s vehicle and headed for the garage. “I have a spare key,” she said over her shoulder when he joined her.
“That’s good, because the lock on your front door was broken by the intruder, so we nailed it shut.”
Hearing that made her nervous, but she kept her chin steady as she punched a code into the keypad mounted on her garage. When the door opened, she ducked inside and found her spare key. Then she headed over to the door along the side of her house.
“He left a mess,” he warned as she unlocked and pushed the door open. Full of apprehension, she crossed the threshold.
Gabby thought she was prepared for what she’d find, but as it turned out, she wasn’t. The kitchen was a mess, although it didn’t look as if anything was broken, but each drawer and cabinet was open and had obviously been thoroughly searched.
“Your office is the worst,” Shane said his hand resting on the small of her back.
“I didn’t expect to feel so violated,” she murmured as they made their way through the living room, which wasn’t too badly messed up, to the hallway where the bedrooms were located, one of which she’d turned into an office.
She gasped when she saw the chaos on her normally neat desk. “What in the world was he looking for?” she asked helplessly.
“I don’t know,” Shane admitted. “I didn’t see him carrying anything out, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have something tucked away.”
For a moment panic gripped her by the throat and she bolted past Shane to head over to the bedroom. Dropping to her knees, she pulled out a small cedar box, roughly six inches by six inches wide and three inches deep. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as she gingerly lifted the cover.
She let out a whoosh of relief when she surveyed the contents. “It’s all here,” she said, moving the precious items around to make sure she wasn’t missing something. “He didn’t take it.”
“What’s in there?” Shane asked, kneeling beside her.
She shrugged, not willing to go too much into depth. “Personal mementos, that’s all. Nothing of monetary value. Costume jewelry, like this charm bracelet that my father gave to my mother before he died, photographs of us together as a family. The necklace Leo, my godfather, gave me. Just sentimental things...”
Shane peered over her shoulder and tapped the picture on top where she stood proudly in front of her parents, who were grinning widely for the camera. “You look adorable in that dress,” he said, his breath tickling her ear.
His compliment made her flush, and she quickly replaced the cover of the cedar box, knowing that looking at the old photographs might bring back the crippling headaches that she’d suffered throughout her childhood. “Thanks,” she whispered, scooting away from him, “but this isn’t important right now. I’d better go through my office.”
“Sure thing.” Shane stood back and let her pass. She carried the cedar box with her, setting it aside. Then glanced around at the mess, wondering where to begin.
“If you’re able to tell me what’s missing, that would help,” he s
aid.
“Lucky for you, I’m extremely organized,” Gabby said, gathering papers together. She collated her medical school stuff first, and then the paperwork she’d saved from her residency. She took her time with those, wondering if it was at all possible that Damon Keller, Eric Ambrose or Joe Chasco could have done this.
Gabby bit her lip. Sure, there was a time when Damon might have worried she’d report his attempted rape to the police, but the statute of limitations on that had passed by now. As for the other two medical residents? She’d kept notes about some of the things they’d done to her, mostly trying to set her up for failure. It made her angry all over again to remember the stupid things they’d done—omitting information, or giving her wrong information, which could have caused harm to their patients if she hadn’t been supervigilant.
But those shenanigans had happened years ago, and her notes were in a safe-deposit box at the bank. No reason to think that either one of the physicians she’d trained with had decided to come searching for her notes now. Unless they’d been worried that she’d blackmail them? Ridiculous. There was no point.
Still, the idea nagged at her as she continued putting things away.
She worked in silence as the minutes slowly ticked by. Shane helped by giving her stacks of papers he’d taken from the floor and she gathered them together in their proper files.
But as the mess was cleared, she realized there were some papers missing.
“That’s odd,” she said, poking through the paperwork.
“What?” Shane asked, crossing over to her side.
“So far, the only thing missing is the file for my stepfather’s mortgage.”
“Your stepfather?” he echoed with a frown. “Why would you have that?”
She sighed, wishing she didn’t have to let Shane know all the details about her dysfunctional family. “My mother passed away two years ago and I promised her that I’d continue paying the mortgage so my stepdad wouldn’t have to move.”
Shane’s steady gaze saw far too much. “I take it you don’t get along with him?”
Wasn’t that the understatement of the year? “Not particularly,” she admitted. But this wasn’t the time to get into the reasons she resented her stepfather. “But that doesn’t matter. Why would anyone take his mortgage file?”
“To get his address,” Shane said grimly. “We’d better head over there, just to make sure he’s okay.”
Gabby nodded in agreement, even though the thought of seeing Richard again filled her with dread. She hadn’t seen him since her mother’s funeral, and the heated words he’d shouted at her, blaming her for her mother’s death, still reverberated in her mind.
Shane didn’t waste any time hustling her back out to his car. As he backed out of her driveway, she gave directions. “Richard’s last name is Strawn and he lives in Brookmont, so head west on Wisconsin Avenue.”
“I know the Brookmont area,” Shane said, sending her a sideways glance. “Lots of big fancy houses there.”
Yeah, she was well aware of how expensive the property was in Brookmont, but she didn’t say anything as he navigated the streets. About ten minutes later, they arrived at Richard Strawn’s home.
“Maybe you should wait in the car,” he said as he shut off the engine.
“No way,” Gabby protested. “I’m coming with you.”
Nodding tersely, Shane slid out from behind the wheel and came around to her side. She followed him up to the front door, flanked on either side by marble pillars. She could tell Shane was comparing this huge place with the modest house she lived in, but she wasn’t about to explain further. She lifted her hand to knock, surprised when the door swung open.
“Stay back,” Shane ordered, going into cop mode as he pulled his weapon from his holster and used his radio to call for backup. “Wait for me in the car.”
She ignored him, but grabbed his biceps with a tight grip. “No, Richard might need medical care.”
Shane shot her a fierce glare but didn’t argue as he stepped inside the house. “Mr. Strawn? Are you here? This is Deputy Hawkins from the sheriff’s department.”
Gabby hugged Shane’s back as he carefully made his way through the foyer into the open-concept kitchen and living room. Ironically, the interior of Richard’s house seemed immaculately clean, not at all messed up the way hers was.
But then they rounded the corner and she saw him—her stepfather—lying prone on the floor, a pool of blood seeping into the cream-colored carpeting beneath his head.
Her stomach clenched as she realized that Creighton had not only come after her but Richard as well. She rushed forward, feeling frantically for a pulse, knowing that if he died, it would be all her fault.
FIVE
Shane used his radio to call for an ambulance as he searched the rest of the house, making sure no one was hiding. He found that Richard Strawn’s office was messed up the same way Gabby’s had been and wondered if this time the intruder had found what he was looking for.
Once he was assured that whoever did this was long gone, he returned to help Gabby.
“What can I do?” Shane asked, kneeling beside her.
“He has a pulse but it’s weak,” she said, anguish reflected in her eyes. “This is my fault. He was injured because of me.”
“Gabby, listen,” he said in a terse, urgent tone. “This is Creighton’s fault, not yours. You and Richard are both innocent victims in this.”
She shook her head but didn’t say anything more. She leaned over to peer at Richard’s pupils. “His pupils aren’t equal in size—he has a head injury. I want him to go to Trinity Medical so I can keep a close eye on him. He needs to have the best neurosurgical care possible.”
“I understand,” he agreed. “The ambulance should be here any minute.” He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Gabby, whoever did this searched Richard’s office. Just like yours was searched.”
She paled. “I wish I knew what he was looking for.”
He wanted to believe she didn’t know what was going on, but Nate’s suspicions echoed in the back of his mind. When the shrill wail of sirens shattered the silence, Shane rose to his feet and headed outside to meet his teammates and the ambulance crew.
Nate jumped out of the first vehicle on the scene and crossed over to meet Shane. “I told you that woman was trouble,” he said with a wry grin.
Shane narrowed his gaze, not the least bit amused. “The guy who searched her house took the information on her stepfather, which is why we came here. But the perp beat us to it. Strawn is unconscious. From the location of the body, I believe he caught the intruder off guard, so the guy knocked Strawn out and then searched his office.”
Nate whistled between his teeth. “What is this guy after?”
“I wish I knew. Could be that he’s found whatever he was looking for. But nevertheless we need to convince Griff to put more resources into investigating these crimes.” Shane blew out a heavy breath. “We can start with doing simple background checks on the people in Gabby’s past. She mentioned an old boyfriend and a couple of residents who resented her, so that’s one avenue to explore. And after this latest attack, we need to dig a little deeper into her stepfather’s background, as well. It could be that he’s the one Creighton wanted all along.”
Nate lifted his eyebrows in surprise and then nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good point. And it would explain why her assailants didn’t try to kill Gabby last night. Maybe the kidnapping attempt was nothing more than a way to get at her stepfather. And if that’s true, then she’s no longer in danger.”
Shane scowled, not believing that for a second. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“You’re letting that woman get into your head,” Nate accused.
“No, I’m not,” he denied swiftly. “I just want her to be safe.” He didn’t add that he was determined to protect Gabby until he was convinced the threat was over.
The ambulance pulled up, so he left Nate to meet up with the emergency me
dical techs. He showed them the way to where Gabby waited with her stepfather.
Inside the living room, Gabby gave the two EMTs a quick update of her stepfather’s medical history, and then stepped back so they could bundle Richard onto the gurney.
“Shane, I need to borrow your cell,” she said. “I have to call the hospital.”
He pulled out his phone, punched in the password and then handed it over. Gabby made her call, requesting to be connected to someone by the name of Dr. William Mullen.
“Bill? It’s Gabby,” she said in a husky tone. “I need your help.”
Shane ignored the flash of jealousy, knowing he was being ridiculous, and left the room to give her some privacy. He walked back into Strawn’s office. The old man’s files had been ransacked with the same thoroughness that Gabby’s had. The crime scene techs hadn’t found any fingerprints at Gabby’s house, so he doubted they’d find any here, but they had to try. Without touching anything, he bent over and read through the papers on top of the desk, frowning when he noticed they were bank statements. And from what he could see, it appeared Richard Strawn was having some financial difficulties.
If not for Gabby’s paying her stepfather’s mortgage, he’d be living out on the street. He stared at the documentation, wondering if Richard had lost his money as a result of poor decision making?
Or from something illegal?
Maybe Nate’s theory was right, that Richard Strawn was the real target. Creighton may have been attempting to use Gabby as a way to get to her stepfather.
* * *
Gabby disconnected her call, somewhat reassured that Bill would be waiting at Trinity Medical Center for Richard to arrive.
If anyone could save her stepfather, it was world-renowned neurosurgeon Bill Mullen. Richard would be in good hands, but a heavy dose of guilt still gnawed at her.
