by Vella Day
She inspired him? His words almost made her uncomfortable. She didn’t have much money, so there was nothing he could want from her. Amber leaned back in her seat. “You don’t even really know me.” That sounded like she was fishing for a compliment. Hell. Maybe she was.
Stone cocked a brow. “I don’t know you? I’ve spent years around nurses and doctors, and I can tell which ones care and which ones only do the job for the money.”
“I can usually tell the difference, too.”
He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “I’ll give you my take on who Amber Delacroix is as a person.”
She was surprised he’d taken the time to notice she was someone other than a grief-stricken woman. “Tell me.”
“I can see you yearn for parental acceptance and considered yourself Chris’s surrogate mother.”
His words took her breath away. Was she that obvious? “Being Chris’s older sister, I believe I understood him better than my mom did.”
“You see? I’m right.”
“You can’t know someone in only a few days.” Though she believed she knew Stone. He wasn’t complicated. When he’d been with her, he’d always been good. There didn’t seem to be any hidden agenda.
Bea came by and placed the drinks on the table. “Have you two decided or have you been too busy feeling each other out?”
Amber sucked in air. Did Bea think she was flirting? She was about to tell the woman her brother had just passed away, when Stone nudged her foot.
“Give us a few minutes, Bea.”
“Sure thing, cowboy.”
The woman left and went over to another table. “She means well. Bea’s been trying to fix me up for years. So far she’s failed.”
Amber had been so consumed with her brother’s situation she hadn’t taken the time to truly study Stone beyond how he’d acted with her. Seeing him flirt with the elderly woman, Bea, endeared him to her more.
Whoa. Now wasn’t the time to consider dating, but if she were looking, he’d be the perfect man for her.
Chapter Five
Detective Cade Carter’s boss, Dan Hartwick, tossed a folder on his desk.
Cade looked up. “What’s this?”
“Another case.”
He was juggling three of them already, but the one that still haunted him was Emma Luther’s. “I already have my hands full. Give it to Trent Lawson.” Trent had just closed out the burglary case he’d been working on for the last two weeks.
“Take a look at it.” Dan’s usually controlled expression was suddenly filled with concern. But there was something more. Excitement maybe?
Curious, Cade pulled the file toward him, and when he opened it and spotted the name, Delacroix, his gut churned. He scanned the comments. “They ruled Chris Delacroix’s death a homicide?”
“The toxicology screen came back this morning. There was an excessive amount of Ativan in his system.”
“Shit. That was the same drug Emma Luther had in her system when she died. I’m guessing his doctor hadn’t prescribed that drug to him?” From what Stone had told him, Chris was quite angry and depressed, not anxious, which was the reason to prescribe the drug.
“No. Besides, the dosage was significantly more than what would normally be given to a patient.”
“Would that amount be enough to kill him?”
“It might, though Dr. Almaguire suspects succinylcholine. It’s a—”
“Neuromuscular blocker. Stone uses it on rare occasions to sedate a victim and then has to intubate them.” Shit. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to die by paralysis. With the blocker, the kid wouldn’t be able to breathe.
He glanced at the report. “It doesn’t say the drug was in his system.”
“According to Almaguire, the blocker dissipates quickly, making it basically undetectable.”
“Crap. Had the person not used Ativan first, he would have gotten away with murder—literally.”
Dan’s mouth twisted. “Looks like we might have an angel of mercy killer on our hands.”
His thoughts shot to Amber. Was she so kind that she’d kill? His chest constricted. He hoped like hell she was innocent. Stone seemed quite taken by her, and Cade knew why. When he’d previously interviewed her, there was something about her that made a man want to get to know her better.
He scoured the report again and spotted Chris’s nurse’s name and was relieved it wasn’t Amber’s. Reason intruded. The hospital never would have assigned her to treat her own brother, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have access to Ativan. She’d admitted to giving the drug to Emma Luther.
He pushed back his chair. “I’m on it.” If it killed him, he’d find the bastard who did this to Chris. No one had the right to say when a person should die. Not even a sister.
“From your reaction, I take it you think the Emma Luther case and this one are connected?”
“My gut tells me they are.”
“Let me know what you find.” Dan nodded and left.
Although Cade often worked with Ethan Harper, he wanted to do a few inquiries on his own. He truly didn’t like that Amber Delacroix’s name had come up again—first with Emma and now with her brother. He didn’t want Amber to be involved, but if the facts pointed to her then he’d have to bring her in. He refused to let his emotions blind him.
Cade hopped into his SUV and headed to the hospital. He probably should have first called Sandra Carr, the medical examiner, who did the autopsy, but if she wasn’t available, he’d speak with the possible suspects, starting with Nancy Waldron, Chris’s nurse. She’d been the one to find him not breathing and had resuscitated him. Cade wouldn’t rule out the idea she’d brought him back in order to throw suspicion off herself. Looking at the timeline, she’d come in just quick enough to make it look like she wasn’t involved.
When Cade entered the hospital, the girl at the reception desk smiled. She was Tanner Rand’s little sister. Rock Hard might have close to fifty thousand residents, but he knew most of those who’d been here a while. Growing up in the town gave him that edge.
“Hey, Chelsea.”
“Cade.” She drew in her bottom lip and looked up through mascara-caked lashes. “You here for a case?”
If not a case, it would mean he was either sick or visiting someone, and he never was ill. “A case. Is Dr. Sandra Carr in?” He squared his shoulders to appear more authoritative, but that didn’t seem to affect Chelsea at all.
She smiled. Poor girl always had a crush on him, but he had rules. Never date a twenty-one year old or a fellow detective’s sister. Cade didn’t need that kind of drama in his life.
She pressed a button to dial the morgue. “Hey, Dr. Carr. Detective Cade Carter is here to see you. Are you free?” She tapped a bright pink nail on the desk then smiled and hung up. “She is. Do you know where the morgue is? Or would you like an escort?”
That made him chuckle. “I’ve been there before.”
Not wanting to linger, Cade spun on his heels and headed to the hospital basement. He liked Sandra Carr. She might be young for a medical examiner, but she was first rate. He stepped into the elevator. No surprise, he was the only one who wanted to visit the bowels of the building.
The disinfectant failed to mask the stench of death, but he didn’t cover his nose. He was used to the smell. He approached one of the autopsy rooms and looked in. Although the lights were on, the place stood empty. At the next room, he spotted Dr. Carr and knocked.
She looked up, pulled off her face guard, and came toward him. Before she opened the door, she discarded her gloves and paper smock. He stepped back to let her exit.
“Well, well. Nice to see you again, detective.” Sandra seemed to enjoy the break.
“The pleasure is all mine, though I’m here on official business.”
“I assumed.” He caught the sly smile. “Let’s speak in my office.”
He followed her. He could have sworn there was an extra sway in her hips just for him. Was
it his imagination or was every woman trying to distract him today? Maybe it was because his mind was on one particular woman.
Fuck if he knew.
Sandra slid onto a cushioned seat behind a scarred mahogany desk that looked older than she was. “Have a seat,” she said, nodding to the wooden spindled chair that angled toward her desk.
He didn’t want to take up much of her time. “I’m here about Chris Delacroix. What can you tell me about his death?”
“Not much more than what was in the report.”
“I didn’t see a time of death. If his nurse resuscitated him around 1:15 p.m., could you tell how long he hadn’t been breathing?” It was times like this he wished he’d been better versed in medicine.
“That’s hard to pinpoint. He was almost brain dead when the nurse came in. From the cross section of the brain stem, I might put his time of death ten to thirteen minutes before that.”
Stone had told him he’d picked up Amber in front of the hospital around 1:08 p.m. “Could you be off by five minutes?” Maybe the murderer came in before Amber arrived.
“Yes.”
He asked her about the Ativan dosage, and she confirmed the amount as excessive but not deadly.
“The killer must have injected something lethal afterward—something that dissipated quickly so as not to be detectable,” she said.
“Such as?” He wanted her to make the diagnosis.
Sandra Carr pressed her lips together then drew in her bottom lip. “My first guess would be succinylcholine. It’s a neuromuscular blocker.”
“Thank you.” He placed his card on her desk. “If anything else comes to mind, call me.”
His next stop was to speak with the pharmaceutical technician to see who’d checked out the drugs or determine how someone could gotten a hold of the drug without signing them out.
* *
Even after more than a week, the pain from Chris’s death hadn’t diminished. Dr. Almaguire called the day before and said he’d ordered an autopsy because her brother’s death had been suspicious. While the doctor had access to the results, when she’d asked him for the details, he said he’d handed everything over to the police. Which meant she was out of the loop. The cops would never release any information until after the killer was found.
The whole concept of someone wanting Chris dead boggled her mind. Who would want to kill a crippled man? Her thoughts shot to Emma Luther, and Amber’s body trembled. Someone had wanted the girl dead, too. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to think about who would want her brother dead or why.
Rumors had run wild in the oncology department about an angel of mercy, but the administration had ordered the staff to keep their comments to themselves. If the mercy killing theory ever leaked to the press, there would be widespread panic, and the hospital might be forced to close.
Amber made a promise to herself that as soon as she made her peace with Chris today, she’d find out the truth. His funeral was at four o’clock in the afternoon, and she worried about keeping her emotions in check during the service. Crying in front of her mom would make her look weak, and if there was one thing her mother hated, it was someone without a backbone.
Ben, a friend of the family, was giving the eulogy. Sometimes Ben’s social skills weren’t the best so Jamie promised she’d help him with what to say. If Amber honestly thought she could have kept it together, she would have spoken.
Jamie had told her right before Amber moved to Rock Hard, Ben’s mom had died of Lou Gehrig’s disease, a nerve disorder that attacked a person’s muscles. Amber had witnessed the effects of the fatal disease and couldn’t imagine a worse way to die. Jamie said Ben grieved for months afterward, and she feared when he went back to the funeral home he might not hold up well. Ben assured them that wouldn’t happen, and Amber hoped he was right.
Mom and Thomas were flying in a little before two o’clock and should arrive shortly. Amber had offered to pick them up at the airport, but her mom had insisted on renting a car. They were only staying the day then flying out later that night. To Amber, a car rental made little sense, but that was her mom.
There wouldn’t even be time for the three of them to have dinner together, though listening to Mom say how careless Chris had been for a whole meal would have turned Amber’s stomach and caused her to say something she might later regret. While her mother claimed she was looking forward to seeing Amber again, her actions said something very different.
A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped. With a shaky hand, she opened up.
“Amber,” her mother said.
“Mom, Thomas. Come in.”
They weren’t an affectionate family, so there were no grief-ridden exchanges, which suited her fine. Both of them walked in and looked around rather than focusing on her and how she was holding up.
“Come sit down. I’ll make some coffee.” Amber had caved and bought coffee from Starbucks. Her mom was very picky about what she drank.
“No, thank you,” her mom said. “I’d like to wash up if you don’t mind.”
“Sure. The bathroom’s the first door on the left.” Given she lived in a two-bedroom apartment, her mom would have no problem locating the washroom.
She stepped up to Thomas and gave him a light hug. At least he returned the gesture.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected. How’s Mom doing?” She felt obligated to ask.
He cocked a brow. “Her usual self. I know I was deluding myself, but I really thought she’d at least act sad when she learned her youngest son had been murdered, but she went on as if nothing happened.” His lips thinned, and he glanced to the ceiling as if he was seeing the real Margaret Delacroix for the first time.
“Maybe that’s the way she copes.” Amber didn’t really believe that, but she didn’t want to make this harder on Thomas.
He shook his head. “She’s just cold.”
Never once had Thomas expressed any kind of dissatisfaction with their mom’s behavior, most likely because she fawned over him. “I’m surprised you see that.”
“You’d be surprised what I notice.” He glanced down the hallway before walking the short distance to the sofa and sitting. “Tell me what you know about Chris’s murder.”
She’d already explained what happened, but perhaps he needed to hear it a second time for closure.
“When I spoke again with Dr. Almaguire, he said the toxicology screens showed Chris had been murdered and that the police were investigating.”
“What kind of drug was in his system?”
“He wouldn’t give any details because it’s an investigation.”
“I know you. You’ll find out.”
Because she always had the patient’s best interest at heart, she did have a tendency to bug people until they told her what she wanted to know. “I plan to.”
Their mom returned looking a little more put together. “I’d like to go to the funeral home now.”
The service wasn’t for another hour, but maybe she wanted time to be with Chris. “Sure.” Once she gathered her purse and coat, she ushered them out.
“We’ll follow you,” her mom said.
Amber wanted to suggest they drive the three miles together, to be a family once more, but now wasn’t the time to complain. “No problem.”
When they entered town, the traffic was minimal, allowing her brother to remain close behind her. Fortunately, the funeral home lot was almost empty as well. Amber parked near to the entrance, rushed out of her car, and strode over to their rental.
Thomas helped his mom out of the vehicle and then walked next to her down the tree-lined path to the funeral home. Amber followed behind, not wanting to be near her mom right now. She wasn’t sure she could remain civil.
Inside, one person stood near the front of the room facing the open casket—Stone. Relief washed through her.
Her pulse sped up.
He must have heard the clickety-clack of her moth
er’s heels because he turned around.
Her mother looked over her shoulder. “Who is that man, darling?”
“That’s Stone Benson. He was the paramedic who found Chris.”
Amber expected her mom to make some comment, but she dabbed at her eyes instead and said nothing. Amber softened at her mom’s show of grief.
She moved in front of them both and led the way down the aisle. She stepped into the front row. Thomas followed, and then came her mom. Stone slipped into her row of chairs and stood next to her.
She leaned over and looked up at him. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome.”
Amber really didn’t want to see Chris in his coffin, but if her mom and Thomas went up, so would she. For ten minutes, both her relatives stared ahead as if they were trying to come to grips with Chris’s death. Then, with bowed heads, both walked up to the casket.
Amber stayed behind for a moment as her mother grabbed a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes again. Thomas definitely seemed affected by his brother’s death. His shoulders would shake and he’d bow his head.
When they turned to each other and hugged, a pang of what she could only describe as longing filled her. Growing up, she ached for that kind of embrace from her mom.
A second later, Stone’s warm hand clasped hers. When she looked up, he was facing forward, acting as if comforting her was the most natural thing to do. As Thomas and her mother walked back down the aisle, Stone squeezed her hand once before letting go.
“Ready?” he asked.
He must have recognized how hard this was for her. “Yes.”
Together, they trudged up to the coffin. When she saw Chris looking so young and at peace, she almost smiled. Gone was his usual angry expression. She wasn’t ready to admit he was happier not having to face life paralyzed, but maybe someday she would.
After she said her goodbye to Chris, more people entered, and the service began shortly thereafter. During the eulogy, Ben held it together beautifully, and she doubted there was a dry eye in the church. She wished her mind hadn’t wandered as often as it had, but her heart was too heavy to stay focused.
