by Linda Turner
Hidden in the overgrown bushes that flanked the house across the street, Laureen watched Turk cross the yard to his own house and disappear inside. Bastard. She’d seen the hug Betty Crocker had given him, and she hadn’t been fooled by the fact that he hadn’t hugged the little witch back. The chemistry between them was almost palpable. Damn them, they’d made love!
Enraged, she wanted to kill them both. How dare they! Did they think she wouldn’t find out? That they could keep their relationship a secret from her? She wasn’t an idiot. He hadn’t let the bitch out of his sight from the moment he’d come running at the first sound of the fire truck’s siren. He was cheating on her, and by God, this was going to stop! Turk was hers. The second she’d met him in Dallas, she’d known he was the man she’d been waiting all her life for. And no one, especially a little skinny-assed hussy in a baker’s apron, was going to steal him away from her.
Infuriated, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. If Betty Crocker thought she had problems before, just wait. Laureen was going to make her wish she’d never laid eyes on her man, let alone touched him.
Chapter 11
The afternoon should have flown by. When he arrived at the clinic after lunch, he hardly had time to deal with one medical crisis before another one walked in the door. The pace was frantic, the waiting room full. He didn’t even take an afternoon break, and still, the afternoon seemed to drag by.
Because all he wanted to do was call Rachel.
He didn’t, but it wasn’t easy. Over the course of the afternoon, he lost track of the number of times he picked up the phone, only to hang up when he realized what he was doing. He couldn’t stop thinking about the pain in her eyes when she’d told him what her ex had done to her. That kind of betrayal might have broken another woman. How had she stood it? She was so strong. Even last night, when the business she loved was burning, she’d found a way to smile afterward when her customers had showed up to help her clean the place up. And he admired the hell out of her for that.
And it was that kind of thinking that was going to get him in trouble.
Frowning, he was quickly scribbling notes for his medical transcriber when his cell phone rang. Normally, he wouldn’t have taken it, but when he checked the number displayed on the screen, he lifted a brow in surprise. Why was his mother calling? She never called when he was working.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “I was about to ask you the same question! I can’t believe you got married without telling me or your father! Do you know how hurt we are? I know we didn’t support your move to Hunter’s Ridge, but that didn’t mean you had to cut us out of your life! What were you thinking?”
Surprised, he laughed. “Is this a joke?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” his mother snapped. “Where did you find this woman? She has absolutely no class whatsoever!”
“What woman? Mom, honest to God, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who have you been talking to?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Your wife!”
Confused, aware of the curious looks he was drawing from his staff, he stepped into his office and quickly shut the door so he could continue the conversation in private. “Okay,” he growled, “let’s start this conversation over. I don’t have a wife— I’m not married and I certainly wouldn’t get married without telling my parents. So who have you been talking to? And don’t tell me my wife,” he said quickly. “I don’t have a wife or a fiancée or anything else.”
“Then you’d better listen to your answering machine,” his mother retorted. “Because there’s a message from your wife on there that I’m sure you’d be interested in.”
Scowling, he snapped, “I’ll call you right back.”
Hanging up, he quickly punched in his home number and waited impatiently for the answering machine to click on. He didn’t have to wait long. “Hi, this is Laureen Garrison, Turk’s new wife. We’d love to come to the phone right now, but we can’t. You know how it is with newlyweds. We’re too busy making love. Leave a message at the beep and we’ll call you back when we come up for air.”
For a second, all Turk heard was the roar of his blood in his ears. “Dammit to hell!” Furious, he slammed down the phone, cussing a blue streak. How dare she! How the hell had she got into his house? When he got his hands on her, she was going to wish she’d never been born!
“Dr. Garrison, there’s a—” Tapping on his office door, his nurse stuck her head in the door, only to blink at the fury on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. Mrs. James is in examining room number 2. She sliced her finger on a can—”
“Check to see when she last had a tetanus shot, and I’ll be right there.” Glancing at his watch, he frowned. “I’m going to take a half hour break after I see Mrs. James. I’ve got some business I’ve got to take care of at home.”
“Yes, sir,” she assured him. “Of course.”
Still seething, Turk hurriedly stitched up Becky James’s finger, then rushed home to see what damage Laureen had done to his house. He didn’t think for one second that she’d broken in just to change the greeting on his answering machine. She’d probably trashed the place and taken whatever struck her fancy just because she could. Just thinking about her going through his things infuriated him. This time, she’d gone too far. By God, he was calling the cops and they could take care of her. He was sick of dealing with her.
The front door to his house was locked, but he didn’t unlock it and go inside. Instead, he reached for his cell phone and called the police. When a patrol car pulled up in front of his house ten minutes later, he sighed in relief at the sight of the officer who stepped from the car. It was Doug Walker—and he already knew all about Laureen.
“Hey, Dr. Garrison,” the younger man greeted him with an outstretched hand. “It sounds like you’re having problems again.”
“I’m afraid so,” he said grimly. “I got a call from my mother this afternoon. Apparently, Laureen found a way to change the outgoing message on my answering machine. I don’t know how she could have done it without breaking in.”
“Have you been inside yet?”
“No,” he said curtly. “I was afraid she trashed the place, so I thought it would be better to let you go in first.”
“Smart move. Have you heard from her since she showed up at the clinic that day?” he asked as he examined the front door to see if the lock had been forced. “What about a key? Is there any way she could have gotten one without you knowing it?”
“No!” Just the thought of Laureen having a key to his house turned his blood cold. He’d already changed the locks once—he was changing them again, first thing in the morning. “I don’t know if she’s got a key or not—she certainly wouldn’t let that stop her from getting in if she was determined to break in.” Swearing, he added, “I should have known she was too quiet. Now she’s changed the message on my answering machine and told everyone we got married. You can just imagine how that went over with my parents.”
Doug whistled softly. “My mother would have had a stroke.”
“Mine nearly did. You’ve got to do something about this, man. She’s getting more daring.”
“Let’s see what she’s done,” he said grimly, and waited for Turk to unlock the front door, then preceded him inside.
“My office is through there,” Turk told him, nodding to the first door on the left. “The answering machine’s on the desk.”
Easily finding it, Doug pulled on gloves and hit the play message button on the answering machine. Immediately, Laureen’s too bright, too smug voice filled the office. “Hi, this is Laureen Garrison, Turk’s new wife. We’d love to come to the phone right now—”
“Well, she’s got nerve, I’ll give her that,” Doug said as the message played out and Turk swore roundly. “She’s pretty damn stupid, though. She might as well have signed a confession—she didn’t even try to disguise her
identity.”
“She’s too arrogant for that,” Turk retorted. “She doesn’t think I’ll press charges—or even if I do, that she’ll be caught.”
“Then she’s in for a rude awakening, isn’t she. Let’s check the rest of the house. If she’s as brash as she seems, there’s a good chance that the message on the answering machine isn’t the only surprise she’s left for you.”
Turk didn’t doubt that, but as he followed the detective through the house, he was stunned to discover how sick Laureen really was. She’d tucked several sexy nightgowns, not to mention five pairs of lacy panties, in the top drawer of his dresser. And on his pillow, she’d left a picture of herself that looked like it belonged in a porn magazine.
Swearing, he wanted to burn the damn thing, but Doug slipped it into a plastic evidence bag before he could even reach for it, let alone destroy it. “What do you really know about this woman’s background, Dr. Garrison?”
“I didn’t run a background check on her, detective, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Maybe you should have,” he retorted. “So you don’t know if she’s done this kind of thing in the past?”
“I would think she must have. She’s a damn stalker! Surely I’m not her first victim.”
“Unfortunately, this kind of thing isn’t always reported,” he said grimly. “Did she ever mention any other hospitals where she worked?”
He started to say no, only to remember a conversation they’d had the first time he met her. “Not a hospital, no, but when I made a comment about her Southern accent, she said she was originally from New Orleans. You might check all the hospitals in the area.”
He made a note. “Now, what about your parents? Does she know where they live?”
Surprised, he frowned. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“She’s a stalker, Dr. Garrison. “She’s not logical. If she thinks your family or anyone you’re close to is going to take you away from her, they could be in a great deal of danger. You need to warn your parents. What about a girlfriend? You were at the fire at the bakery early this morning, weren’t you? With Rachel Martin? Is there a possibility this Laureen woman could have seen the two of you together?”
Turk swore. He hadn’t even thought of that. “She’s a night owl,” he said. “She could have very easily been out there in the shadows, watching our every move.”
“Then you need to warn Rachel—”
“Warn Rachel about what?” she asked from the doorway. When both men whirled to face her, she said, “I saw the patrol car. I was afraid something else was wrong. So what do I need to be warned about?”
Biting back a curse, Turk hesitated. After the fire and everything she’d been through last night, the last thing he wanted to do was lay another worry on her. But Doug Walker was right. She had a right to know that there was a crazy woman out there who could, at any moment, decide to make her life miserable just because she’d made the mistake of having a relationship with him.
“I’m being stalked,” he said flatly.
“What? By whom?”
“Her name’s Laureen Becker. I took her out a couple of times in Dallas, then broke things off before I moved here. Apparently, she somehow found out where I was and is now trying to force her way into my life. She showed up at the clinic last week with a serious burn on her arm. There was no question that she’d deliberately burned herself.”
“Oh, my God!”
His face carved in harsh lines, he grimaced. “I told her she needed some professional help, and she flipped out. I’d never seen her so enraged. Maybe that’s why she broke in today, to get back at me.”
“Here?” she said, surprised. “She broke in here? How do you know it was her?”
“Because she changed the greeting on my answering machine and told whoever cared to call that she was my wife,” he replied curtly.
“That wasn’t very bright of her, but I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me. I don’t even know the woman.”
“There’s a good chance that she probably saw me leave your house after the fire. That would explain her breaking in here suddenly, with no warning. She would be livid if she saw me with another woman.”
Rachel paled at his words. “How livid? Is there a possibility that she’s been watching you for a while? That she might have seen the two of us together earlier in the week? Maybe she’s the one who set the bakery on fire.”
Turk had been so disgusted with the message that Laureen had left on his answering machine that he hadn’t even made the connection that she might have already gone after Rachel out of spite. Suddenly, her prankish breakin at his house became a hell of a lot more serious. If she could get in his house so easily, she would have no trouble breaking into Rachel’s. Just thinking about what Laureen might do to her when she was home alone, possibly asleep and unaware of the danger she was in, scared the hell out of him.
“You’re right,” he retorted. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course she would do it.”
Stepping over to the phone, he quickly called the clinic. When his office manager answered, he sighed in relief. “Janice! Thank God! I need you to check some information on a patient for me. Get on the computer and get me the home address for Laureen Becker. You remember—she was in last week for a burn—”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten her name,” she said dryly. “She’s the one that burned herself just to get your attention. There are a lot of sick people in the world, Dr. Garrison. Don’t take this wrong, but you need to steer clear of that one. She’s a fruit loop.”
“You won’t get an argument out of me,” he retorted. “What’s her address?”
“It’s 415 Dawson Creek,” she said promptly. “Apartment 302.”
“Thanks,” he growled, quickly jotting it down. “I owe you one.” Hanging up, he handed Doug Laureen’s address. “This is where she claimed she was living last week. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a phony address, but it’s all we’ve got to go on.”
“What about her phone number?” he asked.
“She only called a few times, and she blocked the number every time,” he replied. “I don’t know if she was on her cell, a land line, or a pay phone halfway across the country.”
“Where did you meet this woman?” Rachel asked, frowning. “She sounds crazy.”
“She was a nurse at St. Joseph’s Children’s Hospital in Plano,” he replied. “She seemed nice…at first. Then I went out with her a second time and discovered she was already planning our wedding. She’d even bought a dress!”
“Are you serious?” Rachel gasped. “How long had you known her?”
“Six days,” he retorted. “That’s when I realized that she was too far out there for me. I was already planning to move to Hunter’s Ridge, but I didn’t tell her that. And I know none of my friends did. I still don’t know how she found me.”
“Trust me, we’ll do everything we can to find out,” Doug promised. “In the meantime, if you have any more problems with Ms. Becker or remember anything else about her, give me a call. I keep my cell phone on all the time, so don’t hesitate to call.”
Taking the business card that he held out to him, Turk said flatly, “I’m more worried about her showing up here again or at Rachel’s. She’s a loose cannon. You never know what she’s going to do.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid—like take the law into your own hands,” he warned. “Then you’ll end up in jail, too, and trust me, she’s not worth it.”
“So now we just have to sit and wait and worry?” Rachel asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Change your locks. The lady’s already proved she’s damn clever. In her mind, Dr. Garrison is hers. If she thinks she’s losing him—or worse yet, that he was never really hers to begin with—watch out. That’s when she’s really going to become dangerous. Whatever you do, don’t underestimate her.”
Long after he left, his words hung in the air between
Rachel and Turk. Finally, he was the one who broke the silence. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone,” he said gruffly. “Laureen’s a nutcase. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“I’ll be careful,” she assured him. “And I really won’t be alone—at least not for a few hours, anyway. The insurance adjuster’s meeting me at the bakery, then I’m going to call some of my customers who are in construction and see about getting some bids. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s going to take to make all the repairs. I’m going to be running the business out of my kitchen for months!”
He should have been relieved. She was safe—for the moment—and he didn’t have to worry about her. But his jaw clenched on an oath just at the thought of Laureen somehow getting to her, hurting her. “Just call me every hour and let me know you’re all right. Okay?”
“I’ll be fine—”
“Just humor me and call me every hour, will you?” he insisted. “Otherwise, I’m going to be running over to the bakery every chance I get just to make sure you’re all right. Of course, if you want me running over there…”
Her lips twitched. “I’ll call. Okay? Satisfied?”
If circumstances had been different, he would have laughed at that. Satisfied? He hadn’t realized just how dissatisfied he was until right that minute. She was in danger, dammit! Because of him. Did she know what that did to him? He didn’t want to let her out of his sight, out of his arms. Satisfied? Hell, no, he wasn’t satisfied.
“Just be careful,” he growled, and surprised them both when he reached for her.
Rachel hadn’t realized how much she needed him to hold her, kiss her, until she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers. Tears stinging her eyes, she wanted to ask him if he had forgiven her for her crazy plans to get pregnant, but surely he wouldn’t kiss her as if he were starving for the taste of her if he was still angry with her. Surely he wouldn’t wrap her tight against him when she kissed him back unless he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Because if he didn’t, she was going to be devastated.
