Reese murmured, “She’s not talking at all. Is that normal?”
Lilly glanced down at her, and Yvette knew her well enough to see the worry hidden at the back of her mother’s gaze. “She did take a blow on the part of her skull just where the speech center lies. If there’s even the slightest swelling in that part of her brain, it could impede brain function in that area. It would explain why she may not be able to talk just yet.”
Her mom must have realized Yvette was hearing that with alarm, for Lilly looked down at her and added, “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s a totally temporary thing. The MRI showed no brain damage or bleeding in your brain. As soon as the anti-inflammatories in your IV kick in, you’ll be talking up a storm.”
“Good. We need to know what she can tell us about who did this to her as soon as possible,” Reese added.
“Cool your jets, Detective. The first priority is her health. And right now, she needs to rest.”
He threw up his hands in surrender, and Yvette smiled faintly as the cool relief of the morphine flowed into her bloodstream and her eyelids drifted shut.
* * *
Reese waited until Yvette had been asleep long enough to be sure she wasn’t going to wake up again soon and then stepped out of her room. He headed down the hall to an empty seating area and pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Jordana, it’s Reese.”
“What’s up? What time is it?”
“Umm, it’s about five thirty in the morning. Sorry to call so early, but I figured your mom hasn’t had a free moment to call you what with pulling a shift here at the hospital and trying to stay on top of Yvette’s condition.”
“What condition?” Jordana sounded a whole lot more awake all of a sudden.
He filled her in quickly and finished with, “Look. I know it’s none of my business, but Yvette is feeling a little…ostracized…by all of you, right now. My impression is that she thinks you’re blaming her for not catching whoever murdered the bodies in the wall and for her dad having to get arrested to try to smoke out Markus Dexter. Hell, it’s possible she’s blaming herself for your folks’ divorce.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Just sayin’. She could use a little Colton love.”
“Got it. Thanks. I’ll call in the troops.”
Alarmed, he added quickly, “But not right now, eh? She just got a morphine drip and passed out. Later today will be soon enough.”
“But she’s gonna be okay, right?”
“According to your mom, her loss of speech is temporary until the anti-inflammatories kick in. Other than that, she appears only to have a smashing headache.”
“Any leads on the mugger?”
He lowered his voice instinctively, not wanting Yvette to hear him, even though she was a full hallway away from here. “Whoever mugged her appears to have swiped her Braxville PD identification card and broken into the forensics lab. The perp totally trashed the joint.”
“Anything stolen?” Jordana asked quickly.
“Nobody can tell yet. It’s a war zone. We’re gonna have to go through and straighten out everything and then inventory every single piece of evidence in the whole lab.”
“Ugh. What a nightmare that’ll be.”
He grimaced. “That’s an understatement.”
“Okay. Well, I guess I know what I’m doing after I round up the siblings and drag them all over to the hospital to shower Yvie in TLC. I’ll head over to her lab after that and have a look around. See if I can figure out if anything was taken.”
“I’m sticking around the hospital in case Yvie wakes up and can talk. I’m going to need a statement from her about what happened.”
Jordana’s silence was just a breath too long. She knew full well he didn’t need to stick around the hospital for her sister to wake up. A nurse could call him just as easily if Yvie regained the ability to speak.
“Okay, then. Call me if her condition changes?” Jordana asked lightly.
“Will do.” He debated for a moment and then added, “By the way, Yvie let it slip to me that you’re moving to Chicago. She felt terrible about mentioning it when she realized I didn’t know yet.”
“Ohmigosh,” Jordana said softly. “I’m so sorry. It should have come from me. It’s just that I’ve loved working with you so much and I hate to leave the department behind.”
“Tell you what. You have my blessing to go to Chicago and make lots of beautiful babies with Clint if I have your blessing to date Yvie.”
“Hah! I knew there was something going on between you two!”
“Do we have a deal?” he pressed.
“Just so long as you know I’ll have your head on a platter if you break my baby sister’s heart.”
“I’d expect no less of you,” he replied dryly.
“Deal.”
He disconnected the call and pocketed his phone, shaking his head. Jordana was not kidding. She would tear him up if he ever messed up with her baby sister. He hated to think what the Colton brothers would do to him if he broke Yvie’s heart.
But it was worth the risk. She captivated him in a way no other woman ever had. He was thirty-one years old for crying out loud. He’d dated enough women to know how special she was, and furthermore, to know how perfect she was for him. He would like to think he was right for her, too. His steadiness and organization seemed like a good foil for her impulsiveness and creative chaos. If nothing else, she made him laugh and was endlessly interesting to be around.
Before the siblings got wind of it, he definitely owed her an apology for not telling her about the fake arrest plan for her father. Surely, she would forgive him for that. She was a smart woman and would understand that they needed all of the Colton kids’ reactions to the announcement to be genuine and unrehearsed. Television cameras caught everything, after all.
He approached her door and was startled to hear voices coming from inside Yvie’s room. He stopped outside, unsure of whether or not to barge in. If it was a doctor doing an examination or something, maybe he should wait out here—
“…swear she’s going to be all right?” a male voice said from inside.
“I swear. I’ll take care of our little girl.”
That was Lilly Colton. Had Fitz flown back from wherever he’d jetted off to when he’d heard Yvette was hurt? But how was that possible? Reese’s impression was that Fitz had headed outside the United States.
“She’s all I have, Lilly. I can’t lose her,” the man said.
Lilly answered low, “We’re not going to lose her. And you have me, too.”
“Thank God.”
Okay, then. Obviously, Lilly Colton had known for a while that Fitz was leaving and had already moved on to a new relationship. He hoped this guy treated her like gold. The way he heard it from Jordana, Fitz valued his business above all else in the world, including his family, and definitely more than his wife.
Reese heard rustling sounds as if Lilly and the man had moved together and were embracing. Definitely not a doctor, then. Who was this mystery man? And why was Lily calling Yvette their baby girl? Reese cleared his throat loudly and gave it a few seconds before he rounded the corner.
Surprise coursed through him, and just in the nick of time, he stopped his eyebrows from sailing up. Shepherd Colton? He and Lilly Colton were a thing? Since when? He sensed family skeletons lurking in the Colton closet. Ah, well. Every family had its own secrets and scandals.
“Any change?” he asked Lilly, lifting his chin toward the bed where Yvette slumbered in morphine-induced unconsciousness.
“No. If you want to go home and get some sleep, I can have the floor nurse call you when she wakes up.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stick around. It’s urgent that I speak with her the moment she’s alert enough to answer a few questions. Even if all she does is nod or shake her head yes or
no.”
Lilly shrugged. “It’s your neck and back in a bad chair.”
Except no sooner had Yvette’s uncle and mother left the room than an orderly wheeled in a pretty decent recliner chair for him, saying that Lilly had asked to have it brought in. He kicked off his shoes, covered himself with the blanket the orderly had left in the chair, leaned it back and closed his eyes.
But his brain didn’t shut down right away. He replayed the conversation he’d overheard between Shep Colton and Lilly. The man had called Yvette all he had, and Lilly had referred to Yvie as our little girl.
Was it possible? Was the uncle actually Yvette’s father? It would certainly cast a new light on the recent divorce announcement between Fitz and Lilly. Not that Reese cared one way or another who’d slept with whom in the Colton family. Given his own opinion that Fitz was more of a scumbag than not, he couldn’t blame Lilly for stepping out on her business-obsessed spouse.
Did Yvette know?
She’d never once hinted at anything like that, nor had Jordana.
Nah. His money was on nobody knowing that. Assuming he was even interpreting what he’d heard correctly. Thankfully, it shouldn’t impact the active investigation into the twin murders in the wall of the Colton-built warehouse. The case didn’t require him to tell anyone that juicy little detail about Yvette’s family.
Yep. That was one secret he would happily take to the grave. No way did he want to kick the foundation of her family out from under Yvette’s feet. What she didn’t know about her parentage wouldn’t hurt her. He only prayed he was interpreting what he’d heard all wrong.
But in his gut he knew he wasn’t wrong.
He tossed and turned for a long time in search of sleep.
* * *
The next time Yvette woke up, stripes of diffused light came through the vertical blinds covering the window and the clock on the wall across from her bed said it was nearly ten o’clock. Based on the sun, that would be ten in the morning.
Reese was stretched out in the recliner in the corner, asleep. A blanket was draped over him, and his shoes sat on the floor beside the chair. Relaxed in sleep, his face looked younger. Less intimidating. She would have liked to get to know this Reese, the one who set aside his cop persona to relax and just be a guy. A good-looking guy with enough kindness in his heart to sit in the hospital with her.
She knew the second he woke up, though, his eyes would harden, he would don his badge and he would start in with the questions about what had happened last night.
What did happen? She thought back, and still was able to retrieve nothing beyond that one image of her work tables being cleared off.
She did remember details from before that, though, including taking her cute pink butterfly purse to work. It was a sure bet she’d taken it out of the lab with her. She never left her purse at work. Which seemed to indicate that she had, indeed, been robbed.
She had to give it to the mugger. It took guts to target someone coming out of the police department.
Too warm, she kicked off one of the blankets and found the remote control for her bed and the television. The pictures on the controls were self-explanatory, and she pushed the button to sit the bed more upright. The whir of the motor woke Reese, and he sat up quickly, rubbing his face.
“Good morning, Yvette. How are you feeling? Can you talk yet?”
She opened her mouth to try. “Hi,” she croaked.
“She speaks!” He kicked the footrest down and padded over to the side of her bed in his socks. “I never thought I’d be glad to have a silent Colton woman commence talking at me, but dang, I’m glad you’re able.”
“That is the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard,” she snapped.
He grinned. “Like I said. Welcome back, Yvette.”
She scowled. “Is there a glass of water around here? My throat is parched.”
“Lemme get a nurse. I don’t know if you’re allowed to have anything like that. I wouldn’t want to do anything to harm you when we’re just getting you back.”
He stepped out into the hall and was back in a second. He put on his shoes, folded the blanket he’d been using and shrugged into his suit jacket. She sighed. Detective Carpenter had shown up for duty.
She said, “I took my pink purse to work yesterday. It has little butterflies all over it and going up the shoulder strap. If it wasn’t on me when you found me, then it was stolen in the mugging.”
He nodded briskly and pulled out his cell phone. He stepped out into the hall, presumably to call the station, while a nurse helped her go to the bathroom and return to her bed, hauling her IV tower with her.
The headache was a constant, dull ache, emanating from a line of sharp pain above her left ear. She reached up and encountered a bandage on the side of her head. “Do I have stitches?” she asked the nurse.
“They weren’t necessary. But you do have butterfly bandages holding your head wound shut. If you mess with those, the doctor might put a couple of sutures in.”
“Got it. No messing with the bandages.”
Reese stepped back into the room still on the phone. “Is there anything else you can remember, Yvette? Anything you can tell us about your attacker?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything about it. The last thing I remember is looking at the tables in my lab and being happy they’re finally clean.”
Reese snorted. Whether that was directed at her or something the person on the other end of the phone said, she couldn’t tell.
He finished the call and came back into the room. He asked the nurse, “Any idea when Miss Colton can be released?”
“The neurologist wants to see her later today, and assuming she’s doing well then, I should think he’d send her home.” The woman turned to Yvette. “Do you have a roommate? Live with someone?” The nurse cast a suggestive glance in Reese’s direction.
“No, ma’am,” she answered.
“Well, you can’t stay alone for a while. You’ve had a serious concussion. You’ll need someone to keep an eye on you, watch out for dangerous symptoms to develop. While you rest today, you might want to think about who you’d like to arrange to stay with you.”
“That’s covered,” Reese said briskly. “I’ll be staying with her. Or rather, she’ll be staying with me at my place.”
CHAPTER 13
Yvette whipped her head around to stare at Reese, which was an exceedingly bad choice. Blinding pain ripped through her head and she had no choice but to collapse back on the soft pillow and close her eyes, breathing in short, shallow gasps until the worst of the pain passed. By the time she opened her eyes, the nurse was gone.
“I’m not staying at your house,” she declared.
“Who will you be staying with, then? As I recall, all of your siblings are in relatively new romantic relationships, and you don’t strike me as the type to play third wheel comfortably. Your parents are in the middle of a divorce and are stressed out to the max. By your own admission, you haven’t made friends in town since you’ve moved back. Except for me, of course. And besides, I want to do it. I can take care of you, and I can see to it you’re safe.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Don’t tell me you can take care of yourself.”
Her mouth closed. That had, indeed, been what she’d been about to say.
“You heard the lady. You can’t be alone for a while. Discussion closed. You’ll stay with me. I have plenty of room, and I figure you’ll get in less trouble at my house than you would in your own home.”
She frowned at him, but she had to admit he was probably right.
They were saved from any more debates by the arrival of her sister Bridgette, who looked as gorgeous as always. She was a golden person, golden skin, golden hair, golden, shining personality.
“Hey, Yvette. How are you feeling?”
“Like warmed-over mush,” she confessed.
“I brought you a few little things—some mascara and gloss. A little blush. Oh, and a hairbrush and a toothbrush. A girl’s gotta have a little confidence to face the whole Colton clan, eh?”
“The whole clan?” she echoed in dismay.
Bridgette leaned down and murmured, “Jordana has called out the troops and ordered all of us to stop by and visit you today. Which we’re glad to do, of course. You should have called last night to let us know you were here. We’d have come by then.”
“I was unconscious most of last night, I’m told.”
Bridgette’s blue eyes, so like their mother’s, widened. “Just how badly were you hurt, Yvie?”
“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” The last thing she needed was to have the whole family clucking over her like a bunch of worried chickens with their feathers all fluffed out. “Please, for the love of God, call off the reinforcements.”
“Too late,” Ashley Hart called from the doorway. She was Neil’s fiancée and fully as gorgeous as Bridgette. A socialite and philanthropist, she’d have been stunning even without the best beauty care money could buy.
Yvette groaned under her breath.
“Tyler’s parking the car. He’ll be in shortly,” Ashley commented, breezing into the room. “And I think I saw Brooks and Neil pulling into the parking lot.”
This time, Yvette didn’t bother to muffle her groan.
“How’s the new house coming?” Ashley asked Bridgette.
“Luke thinks it’ll be done before Easter, but I’m betting it’ll be at least Memorial Day before we’re into it.”
Tyler, the oldest and most serious of the siblings, came into the room and dropped a fond kiss on Yvette’s cheek before moving to stand beside Ashley and looping his arm around her slender waist. Neil, the criminal attorney came in right behind him.
Yvette grumbled at her lawyer sibling, “Don’t you have to be at court or something, Neil?”
“Nope. No big cases pending at the moment.”
Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set Page 40
