Marcy’s older sister Betsy, the spitting image of their mama—tall, thin, and red-haired—charged into the room and into the conversation with the ferocity of a caged lion. “So what I heard is right. You sorry excuse for a man aren’t back in town half an hour before you get yourself shot again.”
“There was a robbery.” Sadie reached for her daughter’s arm. “He saved Marcy from being hurt worse than she is.”
“That still doesn’t give him the right to be signing any papers for her.” Betsy grabbed the pen, but her mother took it from her.
“I really doubt anyone needs to sign those papers. Marcy wasn’t hurt so bad she can’t give permission.”
With the air of authority, Dr. Crowley entered his office, gently nudging the women aside as he lumbered firmly to the table. “While you three are arguing, there’s a woman down the hall heading to the operating room. Now sign the forms, JB.”
“I signed the papers.” Sadie held the form out to him.
Dr. Crowley glanced at JB, then narrowed his focus on Sadie. “This the way you want it?”
She nodded her head.
Dr. Crowley blew out a long, loud sigh. “You do realize I’m the deacon in the church you sometimes favor us by attending, don’t you?”
Sadie straightened, staring him down. “Yes, I do. And as such, it is your responsibility to do what is in the best interest of your congregation.”
“You and your daughters will be the death of me yet, Sadie.”
“Don’t include me in this.” Betsy shook her head as she rested her hands on her hips. Then, she turned her face toward JB. “And you can just pack up and leave anytime.”
“Not now, Betsy.” JB held his hand up to stop her words. Inside, his control churned hard and fast to be free. She must have felt it, because she shut up. He straightened, easing back. “And not until your sister’s well, either.”
He wondered what the hell had just transpired with the doctor, but some things weren’t his business. One thing for sure, though, he didn’t plan to leave town until the robbery and shooting were well on their way to being solved. Even if it meant staying around longer than he’d planned.
That would give him time to consider which job to take next. The police department he’d applied to in Texas? Or the covert ops he’d been asked to be a part of a few months back? Both thought he was good enough. Both wanted him. And both locations would keep him away from Crayton…and the only woman who’d ever made him smile morning and night.
Only she hadn’t been strong enough to let go of her father’s death and face the fact JB’s job would always be in law enforcement. Too bad they hadn’t realized the fact before they were married. Would have saved a lot of heartbreak on both sides.
“Where’s Marcy?” he asked.
The doctor grabbed the forms and headed down the hall. “They should be rolling her into surgery about now.”
JB charged past him. Past the nurses’ station. Past Truman, Marcy’s stepfather. Past a waiting room full of familiar faces. He had to see Marcy, touch her. Later, if she didn’t remember him being there, that would be okay. He’d know. He could live with knowing. She might not be his wife, but keeping her alive and well was his top priority the next few days.
A gurney edged out of her hospital room.
“Hold up!” JB shouted to the orderly.
Grasping her hand, his breaths came ragged—and not from the short sprint down the hall—as he stroked wisps of hair from her forehead. Damn, even the antiseptic smell of the hospital couldn’t cover the remembered scent of her jasmine shampoo.
He leaned in close. “How you doing, sugar?”
“I’m cold.” Her eyes fluttered open. “It hurts. A lot.”
“Doc Crowley’s going to fix that.”
The orderly tried to move the gurney forward, but JB braced it in place with his body. His lips brushed her temple. “Oh, Marcy. Marcy, Marcy, Marcy.”
“JB.” She opened her eyes full force. “Why’d you leave?”
Give her the truth. Tell her how much her words made you feel you weren’t good enough for her. How you couldn’t stand to see her frightened for you every day you left for work as a lawman. Or that you needed to prove something to yourself.
No. This wasn’t the time or place. Maybe it never would be.
“Because you let me go.” He swallowed hard then brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Don’t forget you’re the one who locked me out.”
Her eyes closed and her breathing weakened.
“Why’d you send the divorce papers?” He needed her answer. Needed to know what or who had taken his place.
“I figured you’d get mad and come back…and we’d be like before.” She loosened the hold on his hand. “Didn’t work. You never came back.”
Like before? They’d been young and naive. Not anymore. He’d developed an edge that went with the job. One she’d never be able to understand. And her? From the letters Sadie sent him, Marcy had regrouped and moved forward. But she’d still never left Crayton except to go to college.
Like before? Nothing could ever be like before.
A nursed opened the doors to surgery, and the orderly pushed Marcy into the cool hallway. The doors slowly closed back into place.
He braced his head against the doorframe. A whole lot had happened in the last eight hours since he drove back in to Crayton. One hell of a lot.
Sadie touched his shoulder. “You two could try again.”
“It’s not that simple. Marcy couldn’t stand the thought I might be killed on the job like her dad. It tore her apart every time I got hurt.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can you honestly tell me she’s gotten past that in the past few years?”
“She was only eight. A thing like that sticks with a kid.”
“Hell, do you think my childhood was a damn picnic? Not hardly. Doesn’t mean I didn’t have to grow up and stop making excuses long enough to move forward.” JB quirked the side of his mouth with a sarcastic grin. “Or in my case, move out of town.”
Sadie set her hands on her hips, a mirror of Betsy earlier. “So move back.”
“I’m sorry, Sadie, but that’s not even on my radar.” JB shook his head and headed for the waiting room. There was no way to explain to anyone how much he needed the excitement of the chase and apprehension that went along with his career. He was good at what he had become—a loner who got the job done. Sure there were times he ended up in a bad situation, but he always found a way out. Worked smarter the next time. Got stronger.
Did he think he was invincible? Hell, no. But he knew he’d fight to the end. The day he finally went down and didn’t get back up, no one would say he hadn’t given everything he had. No big deal. That was the risk he faced every day.
After all, what good was life without a little risk?
Chapter Three
The morning nurse shooed JB out of Marcy’s room so she could change her bandages and give the bed a quick clean-up. He took the opportunity to grab some breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. Focused on his third cup of strong, hot, black coffee, his eyes were at least open.
Last night had been long and uncomfortable in the recliner next to her bed. He’d spent most of the time calming her moans and scared mutterings. Even with medications, she still tossed and turned. Might even help if they took her off some of the pain killers.
He didn’t like sitting around doing nothing. The nurse had said to give her an hour. By his watch, that hour had come and gone fifteen minutes ago. Time to get back. Marcy’s scream met him as he turned the corner. He charged through the door to her room.
A man stood next to her bed while she flailed her arms at him. Blood trickled from the IV in her hand. The man lowered his forearm across her chest, and she clawed at his face.
JB grabbed the man from behind and flung him across the room. Dropped him to the floor with one swift maneuver. Braced his hand and arm against the back of the intruder’s head and dug his knee into the man’s bac
k. “Don’t even think about moving.”
Dr. Crowley charged in to the room and pushed the call button. “Get security down here stat. And a nurse.”
“Cool it, JB. It’s me.” The man on the floor didn’t fight back. “Agent Landon.”
JB eased his hold. “Landon? When did you get to town? Better question, what the hell are you doing in here?”
“Trying to find you. Wilson said this job was top priority, so I drove in last night. I thought you might be able to help when I interview this Leon guy.” The man stood up, brushed himself off. “One look inside the door told me something was wrong. She was ripping at her IV. Banging her head against the side rails. Already had the oxygen tube tossed away.”
“Help me. Help me.” She backpedaled on the mattress. Her feet slipped. She got nowhere.
The doctor worked to calm Marcy down as the nurse cancelled security.
JB rushed to her side, lowered the bedrail, and climbed in beside her. “You’re okay, sugar. Everything’s okay.”
She clutched at his shirt as he folded her in his arms.
“I’m right here, Marcy.” He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. He needed to stop doing that. And for damn sure stop calling her sugar.
“JB?” Her breathing slowed as her body wilted against his. “Am I okay? Did you get him?”
He gripped her closer. “You’ll be fine. Your IV needs a little repair work, though.” He fingered the blood on top of her hand where the needle dangled from the tape strapped across her skin.
The nurse rushed to her side and worked to stop the bleeding.
Landon approached the end of Marcy’s bed, and she cringed, grabbing onto JB tighter. The fear on her face made him take a second look at the man.
Tall and built like a defensive center, Landon could be an imposing presence. Never mind his squarer-than-square jaw, a twice-broken nose, buzz-cut hair, and heterochromic eyes—one blue, one brown. Even with his tinted contacts to correct the coloring, his look disconcerted a lot of people the first time they met him.
“Could be she simply had a reaction to the medication.” The nurse re-hooked tubes to the machines. “Happens.”
The doctor nodded.
JB worked to remain objective. What was she seeing? What had happened before he burst into the room? Hallucinations? Delirium? Something had her terrified.
“This is FBI Agent Dwight Landon. He’s here to help with the bank case.” JB soothingly palmed her cheek and glanced at his previous work associate. “This is Marcy Bradley. My ex-wife.”
Landon reached out his hand. “I figured as much. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bradley.”
“Marcy. Just Marcy.” Her voice trembled as she pushed herself up further in the bed, moaning with each little move.
She scrunched her legs against herself. Like a frightened child, she eased her hand into JB’s. One look said she was seriously afraid. Like victims he’d consoled right after a vicious attack. Terrified. Panicked.
His instincts revved, focusing on Landon. “How did you know this was Marcy’s room?”
“The nurse told me.”
Dr. Crowley stopped his check of the beeping equipment. “Which one?”
Landon’s expression hardened at being questioned. “The male nurse assigned to this room.”
The nurse working on Marcy’s hand glanced up. “There are no male nurses on this floor. This is my room assignment for the shift.”
JB moved closer to the other agent. “Maybe you should explain how you got in here.”
Landon stared at the bedrail and didn’t flinch. “I know you’re upset seeing as how it’s your wife.”
“Ex-wife.” JB countered.
Landon sighed. “Okay, ex-wife. But don’t push me, or you’ll end up with another write-up in your personnel file.”
“Too late. I already quit.”
The agent looked up in disbelief. “Now why the hell would you do that?”
“Gentlemen.” Dr. Crowley stepped between the two men. “Please take this outside the room.”
“First things first,” JB said. “What did this male nurse look like?”
“Six-two. Green shirt. Heavy, black-framed glasses, grey hair, mustache. Pushing a cart loaded with books and magazines. Needles and syringes,” Landon said.
“That sounds more like a volunteer, except he wouldn’t have sharps on his cart. Must have been pens.” The nurse worked at getting the bed sheets back in place. “They all wear a pale green shirt.”
Landon eased his shoulders. “Look, I got off the elevator, and this guy was standing there at the nurse’s counter. I asked where the Bradley room was, and he pointed me in this direction.”
“Without checking the room assignments?”
“The man said he’d just left a book in her room. Then he got on the elevator, and I came down here.”
“No one brought me a book.” Marcy’s focus flitted from Landon’s face to his hands then to his pocket and up again. “You…you tried to hurt me. Said you’d kill me…enjoy killing me.”
“Me?” Landon scowled, picking up a magazine from the rolling tray by the bed. He held it up for everyone to see. “All I did was keep you from getting hurt.”
“He was trying to help you, that’s all.” JB folded his fingers around hers. Her uncontrollable quivering told him she was about to lose control again. Shock couldn’t be far behind.
“I know what I’m saying. He tried to rip my IV out.” Her voice rose in volume and anxiety. Her fingernails dug into his arm. “Don’t leave me alone with him. Please don’t.”
JB had been around enough people who’d shot up to know that someone skewered by a drug reaction responded like this. They’d swear things had happened one way when surveillance clearly showed another.
“I’m not going anywhere. It’s the medicine,” JB said. “They’ve pumped so many meds into you, you didn’t know what was happening.”
“I did know.” She grabbed the doctor’s hand. “Why won’t anyone believe me?”
JB caught Landon’s attention and motioned to the door. “Maybe you should wait for me at the nurses’ desk.”
“Sure thing.” The man walked up beside JB and Marcy. “I hope you feel better soon, Mrs. Bradley.”
Her breath accelerated, coming out in escalating pants. “Go away. Please go away.”
JB pushed Landon aside with his body. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t he see his presence upset her? Working his jaw to control his response, JB tempered his words but used his back-off tone to get the point across. “I said wait at the nurses’ station.”
The agent raised his head, staring into JB’s eyes. Challenged.
JB didn’t blink. If need be, he could toss Landon across the room again. Bash him through the door. And kick him down the hallway like a soccer forward scoring a goal. He’d rather not but would if the man didn’t move of his own accord…and soon.
“Now! Right now.” JB pointed to the door. “By the way, when you talk to Leon Ferguson, find out if he saw the shooter. And call Leon’s attorney. He needs to be there before you talk to Leon.”
“Wilson said he already got the clearance to talk to him.” Landon walked out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
Marcy’s grip tightened on JB’s hand. “Don’t leave me alone with him. Please. Please. I know what happened.” Her breathing had leveled, but her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. “Who else would it have been?”
He leaned in close, careful not to jar her wound. “Landon’s never coming back in this room. I promise. You’ll never be alone with him again.”
Sadie pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by Betsy. One look at Marcy’s face, and the two of them rushed to her bedside, barging between the doctor and Marcy.
“What’s going on?” Sadie questioned.
Doctor Crowley shook his head. “Your daughter needs some rest. Time to heal. We’ve got to keep her relaxed.”
“Those drugs are doing a job on her.”
JB cringed at the scene he’d witnessed when he walked in the room. Lucky she hadn’t hurt herself worse. “You’re doing more damage than good right now.”
Betsy rubbed her sister’s arm as her mama stroked Marcy’s forehead.
Sadie looked to JB. “Is she okay?”
Marcy’s face flushed. Intensified excitement, imagined or real, meant intensified blood pressure. She pounded the mattress. “No, I’m not okay. Why won’t anyone listen to me?”
The doctor ordered the nurse to restart the IV in the other hand.
“I asked if she’s okay.” Sadie glared at JB.
“She will be.” He didn’t release his hold on Marcy, easing between her and the nurse.
“Move, so the nurse can put the needle back in.” Dr. Crowley scowled, puffing himself up to his full, commanding presence.
Not going to work this time. “What for?” JB asked.
“She needs an IV needle inserted. The staff needs to be able to give her something fast if something like this happens again.” Doctor Crowley scribbled on the chart. “IV’s the fastest way. In fact, I’ve ordered a sedative for her as soon as we get the bag going again.”
“No sedative.” He glanced at Marcy. “Didn’t you tell me once that you had a bad reaction to anesthesia when you had your appendix out? That when they gave you a sedative, things just got worse?”
Marcy nodded in return.
He centered his stare on the doctor. “So no sedatives. You can give her the pain medicine orally.”
She focused her eyes on the doctor also. “I’ll ask if I need anything.”
JB pointed at Marcy’s mama, her sister, and then himself. “One of us will be in this room all the time. Day and night.”
The women nodded. They might not know why, but they knew to follow his lead. Betsy might be mad as hell that he’d come back to Crayton, but even she wouldn’t fight him on anything that had to do with protecting her sister.
JB rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to mid-forearm and tugged them into place. “Doc, you need to go take care of the rest of the hospital. We’ll take care of Marcy.”
…
Once his wife calmed down, JB handed her off to Sadie and Betsy. He needed to get out of the room and calm down. Following up with Landon would at least give him something to do besides being surrounded by women who were all on pins and needles with him sitting there.
Risk of a Lifetime Page 3
