by Kylie Brant
Walking to the kitchen tucked into one corner, she opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, she tipped it to her lips, drank.
"Quite a place you got here, Shae girl."
The bottle dropped from nerveless fingers as she swung around, her gaze sweeping the area for a weapon. She had her hand on the knife board before she recognized the voice. It was telling that even then, especially then, she had to force herself to release her grip on the weapon.
"What are you doing here, Da?" Her tone was flat, no welcome in it. She watched the tall handsome, man stroll down the spiral staircase from the loft, before posing theatrically at its base, arms spread.
"Shae, my girl, is that any way to greet your old man? Come over and give me a proper welcome."
A proper welcome would be something between a knife in his heart and a boot out the door. She settled for uncompromising indifference. "Most people use the doorbell. Mind telling me how you got in here?"
One well-manicured index finger to his lips, Ryan
O'Riley said, "Now, now. You know I never divulge my methods."
"You don't have to. You either broke in or bribed someone." She bent down, picked up the bottle she'd dropped and grabbed a towel to wipe up the water that had spilled. "Knowing your basic lack of ambition, I imagine bribery was your means of choice."
"You've grown hard, girl." An expression of sadness settled on Ryan's face as he heaved a sigh. "I blame myself for that."
Rising again, she tossed the wet towel in the sink. "There's plenty to blame yourself for, Da. By all means, don't stop there."
If age had caught up with Ryan McCabe O'Riley, it hadn't dared to show itself. His six-foot frame was still straight, his red hair as bright as her own. His unlined face looked a good ten years younger than its fifty years. It was amazing, Shae thought bitterly, what living without care or conscience could do for a person.
"I wouldn't say no to one of those bottled waters if you were to offer," he hinted broadly, leaning against the counter.
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse. But spiteful-ness wouldn't solve anything, and it certainly wouldn't get rid of him. When he wanted something, her father could be amazingly thick-skinned. And he definitely wanted something, or he never would have shown up here.
She got him a water, slid it over to him. "I'm not giving you any money."
The stage had missed a born actor in Ryan O'Riley. The injured expression on his face was worthy of a Tony. "Can't I just stop by and catch up with my only daughter? My eldest and the dearest to her father's heart?"
Giving up, Shae propped a hip against the wall, watching him. There would be no rushing him. He'd take his own time getting to the point, and then use charm, guilt and familial loyalty to try to get his way. The combination had never worked on her, but he'd always refused to acknowledge that.
"I can't tell you how proud I am of you." Few seeing the beaming paternal look on his handsome face would doubt his sincerity. "My daughter, the doctor. I can't believe the little girl I raised is saving lives every day. The emergency room at Charity, right?"
She ignored his question, preferring to focus on his statement. "It would certainly be a stretch to claim you had any part in raising me. If we were to add up all the time you actually spent with your family, we'd probably come up with … what? Three years, total?"
His brows lowered. "Now, Shae, don't go blaming me for things out of my control. I did what I had to do to put food on my family's table, to provide for your mother, you and your brother. I know you always felt I could have done more, but—"
"You mean like hold a steady job? Bring a paycheck home? Be a father, instead of an occasional house guest?" With effort she kept her tone expressionless. Emotion was an ineffective weapon against him. He'd only wield it against her. "Any of those would have been a start. But you chose to take the easy route, running one scam after another in search of a quick buck."
"Those were legitimate entrepreneurial enterprises," he corrected her. "Each and every one of them."
"Of course. And the police take such a narrow view of entrepreneurs, don't they?"
"Apparently." Nodding, he took another swig. Sarcasm was wasted on him. It was only one of his annoying qualities. "Because I understand poor Liam got caught up in their net."
Rage, only recently tucked away, bubbled through her veins. "Poor Liam took a page out of his da's book and looked for the easy life. He was caught red-handed with an apartment full of electronics. Where do you suppose he learned his skill breaking and entering?"
"I won't be having you take that tone with me, Shae Kathleen O'Riley." Ryan's voice was stern. "I taught the boy better than that, just like I taught you."
As quickly as the fury had boiled over, it vanished, leaving desolation in its wake. "You should have left him with me after Mam died. We were doing fine on our own. He was in a good school and making decent grades. Living with you ruined him."
"Well, now, I know you've never forgiven me for taking him and leaving you alone, girl." With a neat twist, he turned the words back on her, distorting the truth. "But what kind of father would I have been to leave my son to be raised by his sister, and you only twenty yourself?"
The kind of father, she thought resentfully, who hadn't had his eye on the welfare check that could be applied for when an unemployed man had a dependent. She imagined the majority of it every month had gone to the track.
"We'd done well enough on our own for over two years." Not for the first time, she considered the futility of this line of conversation. Ryan would never change. She'd known that since she was eight. Arguing about it was pointless. She spent as much effort as necessary to avoid thinking about him most days.
"Why don't you tell me what brought you here today?" She hadn't even known he was in the city. She hadn't seen him since Liam's eighteenth birthday.
"Can't a father even…" Observing the stony expression on her face, he swallowed his words. "The truth is, darlin', your old man is in a wee spot of trouble." With the dimple winking in his left cheek, he looked like a mischievous rogue admitting to stealing a kiss from the neighbor girl. She'd seen the look too often to be swayed by it.
"Police or money?" she asked briskly.
He made a sound of dismay. "I believe the NOPD may be looking to have a discussion with me, but that's just a misunderstanding. However, there are some people I need to pay if I want in on a new venture. I think you'll agree that this is an opportunity I can't afford to pass up."
The buzzer sounded, which was just as well. Her temples had begun to throb, a sure sign that she'd been in her father's company too long. Crossing to the front door, she pressed the button on the intercom. "Yes?"
"Let me up, Shae."
She had no difficulty identifying the raspy tones, softened by a cadence of the South. But she did have difficulty responding to it. What could be so important that Cade Tremaine would seek her out here? That thought was quickly followed by another. She didn't want him here in her home. Didn't want to see him among her things, his presence stamping the area with an indelible brand that would be impossible to erase even when he'd gone.
"What do you want, Detective?" From the corner of her eye she saw the alarm cross Ryan's face, saw him push away from the counter.
"I'm not going to have this conversation standing in the street." His low smoky drawl was adamant. "Buzz me in."
"This isn't a good time for me." There was a moment of silence when she wondered what he was thinking. But when he spoke again finally, he sounded no less determined. "Then I'll apologize for the inconvenience, but this won't wait."
"I'm afraid it's going to have to." She no more wanted to prolong this time with her father than she wanted Tremaine up here. And there was no way she could deal with the two men together.
She turned away from the intercom, fully expecting more demands. But it remained silent. Her father was staring at her, trepidation on his face. "What would a detective want wit
h you?"
"It has nothing to do with you, Da." Abruptly a wave of weariness swept over her. The day had started in a relaxed-enough fashion, but stress was seeping in, one layer at a time. Seeing that her words hadn't wiped the worry from her father's face, she added, "It's something about work. A patient of mine. Let's get back to what brought you here."
Understanding had taken the place of concern in his expression. Understanding that, as it turned out, was totally misplaced. "You're not in any kind of trouble, are you girl? Take some advice from your da—keep your cons out of your workplace. It's cleaner that way."
For one of the few times in her life, she was speechless. She stared at him, shocked that he knew her so little. And then shocked at herself for being surprised by that. She shook her head, gave a grim laugh. "Yeah, Da, I'm running scams in the hospital. Got a little betting pool going on the wheelchair races on the fourth floor."
"Which brings me to why I'm here." Although she didn't quite follow his segue, she was glad he was finally getting to the point of his visit. Ryan reached for his bottle of water again. "I've got a chance to get in on a dandy little deal, and I think you can be a big help to me."
"No."
He went on as if he hadn't heard her. "All I need is a list of people in the city with the kind of money needed to be interested in what I'll be selling."
Shae picked up the lid to her own bottle, screwed it on with more force than necessary. "Didn't you hear me? I said no."
"Names, that's all I'm asking you for. Doctors have plenty of money and you must have contacts at the other hospitals, as well." His tone became wheedling. "It's not so much to give, Shae, to your dear old da you haven't seen in years." Pleased with his pitch, he tilted the bottle to his lips and drank. "Maybe you could arrange for an introduction or two, as well. I'll do the rest."
"I realize this is a difficult concept for you to understand, Da, but listen carefully. I'm not going to say it again." She leaned over the counter, shoved her face close to his. "No."
"You've got a streak of stubbornness in you, girl. Have to think you got it from your sainted mother's side, God rest her soul." Ryan did a quick sign of the cross, cast his gaze heavenward. "Can't help but believe she'd frown on the way you're treating your father right now."
"You've always had a talent for believing whatever suited your purposes." The irony in her voice was lost in the sound of her doorbell ringing. Her head jerked toward the door. She was the only occupant on this floor. It was rare for another tenant to come calling for any reason, with the occasional exception of TeKayla. Pushing away from the counter, she went to the door, looked out the peephole.
Somehow, the last person she'd expected to see there was Detective Cade Tremaine. She took a step back, and then another. But she couldn't avoid his voice. "Open the door, Shae. It'd be useless to pretend you're not in there."
Dimly she was aware that Ryan was rapidly making his way to the staircase, ascending it. She could only assume he was looking for a place to hide until the detective left.
"How about if I just pretend you weren't invited into the building?" Temper snapped in her words. "Oh, wait, that wouldn't be pretense, would it? I told you it wasn't a good time, Detective."
"And I'm sorry about that."
There was that voice again, the same one he'd used when he'd tried to convince her to help him with LeFrenz in I.C.U. The smooth drawl coated his raspy tones like thick sweet honey, designed to weaken the knees and elevate the pulse. But the fact that hers was pounding had nothing to do with him, she told herself firmly, and everything to do with the stress of the past hour.
"I won't take up much of your time, Dr. O'Riley. Shae." His voice dropped intimately on the last word, as if caressing the single syllable. "Let me in. I don't want to talk to you through a door and I'm not going away. I can be very persistent."
She didn't need to be told that. Undecided, she threw a look over her shoulder. There was no sign of Ryan, and probably no reason to worry about him. He'd always had an aptitude for dodging the police.
Making her decision, she unlocked the dead bolt, swung open the door a few inches and surveyed him. "Persistent isn't the word I would have used. Stubborn, maybe. Inconsiderate. Pesky."
His mouth curved slightly. "Semantics. Are you going to let me in?"
She didn't even need to think about her answer. "No."
"Okay." His easy acceptance didn't fool her. This man's will was like forged steel. He propped himself against the doorjamb, the position putting his face too close to hers. She wasn't short, but he topped her five-foot eight by a good four inches. "I looked for you at the hospital last night."
Wariness threaded through her. "I got off at five. I'm not back on again until tomorrow."
"That's what somebody said." He wore jeans again today, old sneakers and a white shirt under an open leather jacket. His eyes were a little bloodshot and he hadn't shaved recently. Either he'd gone on a bender last night or he hadn't slept at all. Intuitively she knew it was the latter.
"Why are you here, Detective?" she asked bluntly. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner she could send him on his way. And then focus on dispatching Ryan with the same speed. Just the thought made her tired again.
"Do you think I could have a glass of water?" When she only blinked, his mouth curved again. "Got a bit parched standing out front trying to wheedle my way in here."
"Since I didn't let you in, I'm assuming you wheedled one of the other tenants."
He gave a slow nod. "Nicest little old blue-haired lady. She had a mite more respect for my shield than you do."
"Look, Detective—"
"That water?" he prompted.
Giving up, she turned away and strode toward the refrigerator, yanked it open. Taking out a bottle, she rose, only to find him standing inside the apartment, the door closed behind him, his gaze sweeping the area. A burn began to simmer inside her. "Very clever. You're pretty adept at getting what you want, aren't you, Detective."
She could have told him that the innocent look he attempted was in vain. Innocence was one expression his warrior's face could never carry off. "All I wanted was a glass of water."
When she threw the bottle to him, he caught it in one hand. "Thanks." Taking his time, he removed the cap and drank, all the while surveying the space. "Nice place. I was a bit surprised at your address. I thought doctors lived in gated communities. By the lake or something."
"Maybe those are the doctors who've paid off their college loans."
"Maybe." His gaze landed on the two half-empty water bottles on the counter, lingered. "Did you have company?"
She'd never know what compelled her to lie. Experience had taught her that it paid to keep things simple. But the words tumbled from her lips before she'd had a chance to think them through. "No. I was just thirsty." He didn't speak, but neither did his gaze waver. And being the object of that intense jade regard was just as nerve-racking as she'd feared. "I forgot I'd already opened one."
He crossed to the counter, leaned against it. After taking another swallow of water, he then set the bottle down, reached out a lazy finger and touched the one Ryan had left. "Still cold."
She snatched it away, took it to the sink and poured it out. "I have things to do, Tremaine. Let's get on with whatever it is that brought you here."
"Have you spoken to anyone from work today?"
The abrupt transition had her turning back toward him. "No, why?"
"Last night Jonny LeFrenz broke out of the hospital. Or rather," he corrected himself, "someone broke him out."
Gaping at him, she struggled to collect her thoughts, which had abruptly scattered.
"How… That's not possible. He was handcuffed to the bed. There was a guard at his door."
"The uniform had the keys to the cuffs."
"You mean he unlocked them?"
"No." Tremaine's expression was stony. "I mean whoever killed the guard got the keys from his pocket."
Abrupt
ly in need of support, Shae leaned against a cupboard. "Someone killed that police officer?"
"Jabbed a hypodermic filled with a large dose of epinephrine into his heart. I'm told that would have dropped him within seconds."
Horror washed over her. "It would have sped up the cardioactivity until the heart was rendered completely ineffective."
"So I heard. The guard was summoned into the room and attacked there. Once he was out of the way, it would have been a simple matter to pull the covers up over LeFrenz and wheel him out of the hospital, especially during shift change late last night."
She was shaking her head. "There'd be nothing simple about it. Even on third shift, the hospital is full of people, and a stranger is going to be recognized by somebody." The detective's silence was its own answer, one she quickly interpreted. "You don't think it was a stranger."
"Given the choice of weapon, the ease with which LeFrenz got away, ho, not necessarily."
Even while she attempted to grapple with this information, he dropped another bombshell. "What were you doing last night, Shae?"
Her gaze flew to his steely one. Although she knew her jaw was agape, it took a moment to summon the strength to close it. "You think I helped LeFrenz break out of police custody? That I killed someone to help him get away?" Astonishment and indignation mingled in her voice. "Are you crazy?"
"The entire staff is being questioned. I don't have to tell you how serious this is. Another cop's been murdered, the second in the last couple months. Two different investigations, but the department is justifiably tense. So I'm going to ask you again, where were you last night?"
She swallowed, her indignation already fading at the thought of the silent officer she'd seen in the I.C.U. lying lifeless on the hospital floor. "I left the hospital at five, went to the gym…"
"Which gym?"
His question reminded her that he'd check her story. The whole scene began to take on a surreal aspect. "Women's Fitness on France and Tulane. I left there at six-thirty, came home and didn't leave again."
