by Terri Reed
Some emotion she couldn’t identify flashed across his face before he let her go and stepped back. She shouldn’t have pushed. Regret knocked at her soul.
“Promise me that you’ll be more careful and not do things like this.” He held up the brown paper bag.
“I can’t make you that promise,” she said, wishing he’d take her back into his arms. But she was a job to him. He couldn’t make her the kind of promises she needed to hear. What a pair they made.
He scoffed. “Of course not. Doing so would require actually following someone else’s rule.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What does that mean?”
Concern and determination battled in his eyes. “You have a bodyguard for a reason, Kris. Someone has tried to hurt you—”
His voice thickened with emotions. Maybe there was still hope.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Donavan is to accompany you wherever you go. Don’t ditch him again.”
A wave of annoyance rose, heating her cheeks. The familiar need to rebel nearly strangled her, but it was her recognizing it that took her by surprise. This was exactly how she felt every time her parents went autocratic on her.
Self-realization was a pain, she decided. Okay, she had a problem with authority. Something else to add to her prayer list.
“Please.”
She almost didn’t hear the note of pleading in his tone. Her irritation left in a swoosh. Gabe didn’t deserve her anger, only her respect. “I won’t.”
“Good.” The relief in his voice smoothed over her like a warming balm. He moved to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. “I’ll let you know when we have more information.”
She was too afraid that if she spoke she’d tell him of the feelings deep in her soul. So instead, she acknowledged Gabe’s words by inclining her head.
As soon as he left the room, she sank into a leather chair. She could hear her parents talking with Don in the living room. Then she heard the audible click of the front door closing.
Lord, help me. I still have a long way to go to becoming the woman You’d have me be. But more than anything, can You please help me with my feelings for Gabe?
Because she’d made a mistake.
She’d fallen in love with him all over again.
“Hey, the chief wants to know why we have every holding room filled.”
Gabe grimaced at his partner. Sunday mornings were usually pretty quiet around the station house. But today not so much.
First thing he’d done when he arrived at the station after arranging for use of the interrogation rooms was to call and check on Kris, only to find she’d gone to church and then to visit her grandmother.
A good thing actually. Because Gabe had had both Dr. Crowley and Dr. Sheffield from Miller’s Rest brought in for questioning, as well as Ms. Faust, Frank Hayes and his brother Henry, the mortician, today of all days was a good day for Kris to be with Sadie.
So far Gabe’s interrogations hadn’t led anywhere. Both doctors had rock-solid alibis for the time surrounding Mrs. Palmer’s death. And though Ms. Faust and the Hayes brothers had alibis, there were enough holes to make Gabe’s gut queasy. “Yeah, well, tell the chief we’re conducting an investigation.”
Angie snorted. “You tell him yourself.” She took a seat at her desk and grabbed a handful of files from the box sitting on the floor next to her feet. She was working through the Miller’s Rest files, checking IDs against the NLETS since their initial pass through hadn’t shed any light on the missing residents or Debra Palmer’s death. “How’s it going anyway?”
Gabe picked up a pencil and tapped it against the arm of his desk chair. “Not as productive as I’d hoped. I have to let the doctors go soon. As for the other three…”
He paused, remembering the cagey way Henry Hayes had acted.
The man was hiding something. Hayes claimed he was not at the wheel of the van that had tried to run Kris off the road. Though he owned the vehicle and his prints—along with all of his employees—were found in the van, there was no proof one of the other mortuary staff hadn’t been driving at the time. Only none of the three staff members had any connection to Miller’s Rest.
The intersection cameras by Kris’s apartment hadn’t revealed a thing. Whoever was driving had known how to avoid being seen.
And then there was Ms. Faust who, much to Gabe’s chagrin, asked for a lawyer the moment she reached the station, which shut down any questioning. That hadn’t instilled much confidence in her innocence but what exactly had she done? And why?
That left Frank.
But Gabe didn’t think Frank had the brains or the courage to kill anyone. The man nearly fainted when Gabe raised his voice. A stone-cold killer Frank was not. But an accomplice?
“Hey, Burke.” Crime Scene Technician Carlos Perez approached Gabe’s desk. His white lab coat hung open, revealing the wild print shirt beneath.
Gabe held up a hand, pretending to be blinded by the sight. “Whoa, Carlos, that shirt. Really, dude.”
Carlos grinned, showing teeth a bit too big for his mouth. “You no like? Come on, dude, this is an authentic Tijuana shirt. Straight from the streets.”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “You didn’t come up here to blind me.”
“No, I didn’t. Two of those tea samples you sent down had traces of tetrahydrozoline HCL,” Carlos said.
“Really?”
Angie abandoned the file she’d just opened. “Wow, your girlfriend was right,” she said, clearly impressed.
“Yeah.” Gabe didn’t correct Angie’s assumption about Kris being his girlfriend. He rather liked the sound of it. Liked the idea of taking that next step. He should have had more faith in Kris’s instincts. Mrs. Tipple had been poisoning the residents. Go figure. “Tetra—what is it?”
“A common substance found in eyedrops. Used in the eyes, it’s fine, gets the red out no problem, but ingested it can be deadly. At the very least, brings on a violent bout of nausea and lowers blood pressure and body temp, and makes breathing difficult,” Carlos explained.
Oh, no. All the symptoms Kris displayed when she’d been sick. Both Kris and Sadie had had the contaminated tea. A shudder of horror ripped through Gabe. Kris could have died. He had to stop Mrs. Tipple.
“Hey, wasn’t that one of the substances found in Mrs. Palmer’s tox screen?” Angie asked.
Gabe searched through the papers lying haphazardly on his desk until he found the ME’s report on Mrs. Palmer.
Sure enough, one of the two substances found in Debra Palmer’s blood was tetrahydrozoline HCL. Obviously, Mrs. Palmer had drunk some tea. “Yes. The other was a sedative used mainly in surgery called succinylcholine. But how did Mrs. Tipple acquire that prescription drug?”
“Good question,” Carlos said. “I’ll leave you to answer it.”
“Thanks, Carlos. You’re the bomb.” Gabe grabbed the phone and called the dispatcher requesting a patrol car to pick up Mrs. Evelyn Tipple for questioning. Then he called Miller’s Rest and asked for Sadie’s room. Kris answered, her voice a welcome sound.
“You were right, Kris. Mrs. Tipple was putting poison in her teas. I’m having her brought in for questioning.”
“Oh, Gabe! Do you think she is behind the disappearances? And how could she find someone to shoot at us? Along with the other attempts on my life?”
Her rapid-fire questions made him want to smile despite the very unpleasant situation. Kris just did that to him. She made the wrong right. She made him care about a whole bunch of stuff he never gave a thought to before. Her and Sadie. He was so glad he could keep them safe. “I’ll find out when I question Mrs. Tipple.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I don’t think I’ll mention this…”
“Understandable,” Gabe said, liking how considerate Kris was of her grandmother’s feelings. Mrs. Tipple was undoubtedly a big part of Sadie’s life, and to think the woman wanted to kill her was rotten. He couldn’t imagine what motivated the elderly woman.
“I guess your job is almost done.” There was a strange hitch in her voice.
A funny ache started in his chest. What excuse would he use to see her once this was over? “Yeah, almost. There are still unanswered questions though. So don’t relax too much.”
“I won’t. Goodbye.”
“Bye.” Gabe slowly put the handset down, wondering at the wistful note in her voice. Was she growing to care for him again? Did he dare hope so? And if so, then what? He cared for her, but was it enough? He thought back to the jealousy he felt when Kris had been talking so closely to Don. Did that mean he was in love with her? All the times he’d held her, the time they had kissed and all the many ways she had touched his soul rose to the forefront of his mind. Was he in love?
Around him phones rang and people went about their daily routine as his world, as he knew it, was suddenly spinning in a new direction.
“Hey, Mr. Daydreamer.” Angie’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Forcing his mind to the task at hand, he rose. “I’m going to take another run at the doctors. One of them had to supply Mrs. Tipple with the sedative.”
She held up her hand. “Question—you think this old woman was the one who shot at you and tried to run down Kris with the mortuary van?”
He blew out a breath of aggravation. “My gut’s telling me no way. My guess, Henry Hayes, but why, I don’t know.” No, Gabe’s job was definitely not done. “Let’s solve one mystery at a time, okay?”
“I’ll let you know when the little old lady arrives,” Angie said, turning back to her computer and the files stacked in front of her.
Gabe headed into the first interrogation room where Dr. Crowley sat at the metal table.
“Can I leave?” Crowley asked as Gabe walked in.
“Just a few more questions,” Gabe replied as he took a seat opposite the doctor. “Tell me about your relationship with Mrs. Evelyn Tipple.”
Confusion entered Crowley’s gaze. “Evelyn? She’s a resident. I’ve had limited contact with her. Why?”
“Any idea how she’d come by succinylcholine?”
Crowley’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? We don’t keep that on hand. Why would she have a sedative like that?”
Holding on to his patience, Gabe said, “That’s what I’m trying to find out. If you didn’t supply her with the drug, then who did?”
Crowley shrugged. “We don’t stock succinylcholine.”
“What about Dr. Sheffield?”
“No. He would never—” Crowley halted. “At least I don’t think he would. I’ve known John for twenty years. He’s a good man.”
“We’ll see if he says the same about you.” Gabe rose and left the room. He headed toward the interrogation room at the end of the hall. Angie came running up, waving a piece of paper in the air.
“Gabe, you’ll never believe this,” Angie said as she skidded to a halt.
With a dry snort, Gabe said, “Let me guess, Mrs. Tipple’s identification was forged.”
Angie shook her head. “No.” She held out the paper for his perusal.
He blinked in disbelief as he read about a woman wanted in Arizona for the murder of several nursing home victims under her care. He stared at the picture on the warrant.
How had he missed her?
He fumbled for his cell phone and speed-dialed Kris. The call went straight to voice mail. He rang Donavan.
“Cavanaugh.”
“Where are you?” Gabe asked.
“Specifically? In the men’s room at Miller’s Rest. I’ve got the flu or something.”
Fear gripped Gabe’s insides in a choke hold. “Where’s Kris?”
“With her grandmother. Gina—” Donavan retched in Gabe’s ear. “Sorry about that.”
“Gina? Is what?” he barked as panic boiled in his blood.
“She’s sick, too. A nurse took her to the infirmary.”
He hung up and dialed Miller’s Rest. The receptionist put him through to Sadie’s room. There was no answer.
If ever there was a time Gabe needed to put his faith in someone other than himself, that time was now.
Please, God in Heaven, if You really do love me as Kris claims, please, don’t let any harm come to her! I need her.
Please let them be in the common room or the dining hall. Anywhere safe.
His heart rammed against his ribs, demanding to be heard, but he couldn’t go there, not now when Kris was in danger.
Because Kris wouldn’t know not to trust Vivian Kirk, aka Veronica Krauss, registered nurse and murderer.
“We’ve got to get to the center!” He ran from the station with Angie on his heels.
THIRTEEN
Knowing she’d been right about Mrs. Tipple didn’t make Kris feel good. Why would the elderly lady, who seemed so sweet and generous, want to hurt others? But one could never tell what was in another person’s heart. Only God could look deep inside and comprehend the motivations which drove someone to kill.
Or deny love as Gabe had done.
Her heart twisted with anguish for what he was missing in his life. What they were missing together. She couldn’t imagine a life without love. It would be so empty.
With a sigh, Kris sent the rocker moving with the toe of her shoe. The soft sound of friction between the wooden slats gliding back and forth against the carpet in Sadie’s apartment was soothing, especially mixed with the low Christmas music coming from the CD player. A reminder that the holiday was fast approaching. And she wasn’t ready. Neither was Sadie.
With so much upheaval in their lives, Kris hadn’t had a moment to take Sadie shopping. Last year they’d hounded the holiday bazaars at several local churches, finding unique presents for their small family unit. This year…nothing.
Kris worried her bottom lip as she stared at her resting grandmother. Anxiety painfully tightened her shoulders. Sadie wasn’t getting any better. Maybe Mrs. Tipple’s tea wasn’t the culprit.
According to Gina, Dr. Crowley had come to visit Sadie yesterday and had ordered some blood tests. They hadn’t received the results yet and waiting for them was torturing Kris. She needed answers.
Kris glanced at the clock on the wall. Gina should have returned by now with Sadie’s lunch. Not that Sadie was awake to eat yet. But Kris was hopeful that getting some food in her stomach when she woke up would revive her physically, since Gina had said Sadie hadn’t any appetite the night before.
Self-reprisal crunched through Kris. She should have been here to take care of Sadie. Instead, she’d moped about her parents’ house, silently bemoaning the fact she’d fallen in love with Gabe again.
Would she ever learn from her mistakes?
The man was all wrong for her on so many levels. Cynical about love, skeptical about God and married to his job. Not good. Not good at all.
She bowed her head and silently sent up prayers of understanding and acceptance of her feelings for Gabe. She really had no other choice than to acknowledge the reality of the situation and learn to live with the loss. Again. She was sure once this crisis was over, that would be it. He’d walk back out of her life. Sadness and regret pinched her heart at the loss of what wouldn’t be. What Gabe wouldn’t allow in his life. Her love.
She said a prayer of healing for Sadie, asking for the doctor to be given wisdom on treating her grandmother.
And she said a prayer of salvation and forgiveness for Mrs. Tipple.
The sound of the apartment door opening brought Kris’s prayers to a halt. She lifted her gaze, expecting to see Gina arriving with a tray of food. Surprise filled Kris as Vivian Kirk shut the door with a click and ambled in, her round face alight with a good-natured smile. Her graying, blond hair curled in disarray around her head and the oversized cardigan sweater added to her ample figure.
Did the woman know how to knock? It was one thing for her to enter her friend Evelyn’s apartment unannounced but to do that to Sadie’s was odd and rude. Kris forced a smile. Obviously the older woman was a bit o
ff. “Mrs. Kirk? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, please, call me Vivian.” She toddled farther into the room, her tennis shoes making no noise against the carpet. “I just saw Sadie’s new full-time guard in the dining hall. She told me you were here. I thought I’d come say hello.”
“That was thoughtful,” Kris said, uneasy that apparently it was common knowledge that Gina wasn’t just a nurse.
“How is Sadie today?”
“Still under the weather.”
“Yes, she does look a bit peaked, doesn’t she?”
Kris murmured her agreement.
“Your grandmother is lucky to have someone to care for her. Some of us aren’t so lucky. Some of us could disappear and no one would care or even notice.”
The seriously ominous words caught Kris off guard, but then she realized there was such a sad note in Vivian’s voice. Kris’s chest ached with compassion and her mind immediately jumped to the three missing residents. “That’s not true. People do notice and care.”
Something flickered in Vivian’s light brown eyes. “You’re right, of course. Inquisitive people everywhere.”
A bit put off by that odd comment, Kris asked, “You don’t have any family close by?”
“It’s always been me against the world.”
There was a slight note of defensive anger in the older woman’s tone that confused Kris. “I’m so sorry.”
She patted Kris’s arm and smiled indulgently. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I have a purpose.” She stepped closer to the bed. “What keeps you busy when you’re not here tending to your grandmother?”
“I’m a photographer by trade.”
“Oh, how exciting. You must tell me more.” Vivian sat on the edge of Sadie’s bed.
Kris thought it odd Vivian would take such a liberty, but shrugged the behavior off as that of an eccentric woman. And obviously since Sadie was still sound asleep, Vivian’s presence wasn’t bothersome. “I have a studio downtown,” Kris explained. “I do mostly advertising work but for a few months each year I travel to various missionary outposts and take pictures for the ministries. It helps to show people the fruit of their labor.”
