Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set

by Addison Fox, Cindy Dees, Justine Davis

  “Did you ever fill the prescription at a pharmacy?”

  She shook her head. “He said he was happy to do it for me, so I didn’t have to…try and interact if I was having a bad day. And it was so easy for Mom to just pick it up, I never questioned it. Why?”

  He pointed at the image still up on the laptop screen. “What other explanation could there be, if this isn’t what you were taking?”

  “That…he made a mistake? Gave me the wrong meds? Is that what you’re getting at?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Before he could go on—and likely confuse her further—Cutter’s head came up and he gave a rather rhythmic bark that was clearly one of welcome, not warning. Quinn and Hayley must be back.

  After greetings and putting away the supplies they’d brought back—including, to Ashley’s amusement even now, carrots that were apparently for Cutter—they returned to the great room. Hayley looked at them both assessingly and glanced at her husband, who lifted a brow. She nodded. Ashley had never really observed that kind of nonverbal communication between spouses before, but these two clearly had it down pat.

  “So,” Quinn said conversationally, “want to tell us what you were deep into when we got here?”

  She let Brady explain, hoping perhaps as he did she would figure out what bone he’d latched on to. He did it in the manner of a police report: short, concise and impersonal. That her meds had always come directly from Dr. Andler, that her mother had usually picked them up, that the flyer she’d been given had no image and that they had just discovered her memory of the pills she’d been taking did not match the image from the manufacturer.

  At that, Hayley picked up her cell phone and rose. “I just want to check something.” She walked into the kitchen.

  “Do you have any of the pills with you?” Quinn asked Ashley.

  Ashley grimaced. “No. I didn’t expect to…” To ever need them again. She heard a low sound from Brady, and his expression looked as if he’d heard her thought.

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice nearly hoarse. “Don’t ever think that again, Ashley.”

  Crazily—that word yet again—the first thing she thought was that she didn’t like that he’d gone back to her full name. She much preferred that taut, urgent way he’d whispered “Ash” in the moment before he’d kissed her. She wished he would say it again.

  She wished he would kiss her again.

  Hayley came back, stopping her from doing something unwise like kissing him. “Dr. Sebastian told me treating mental illness with drugs is always tricky. Finding the right medication, or combination, at the right dose. That sometimes the wrong medication is worse than no medication.”

  “She have anything to say about giving out one medication and saying it’s another?” Brady asked sourly.

  “She did. And it was rather colorful. But she can’t say what effect the wrong medication might have without knowing what it is.”

  “And I heard from Ty.” Quinn’s tone was grim. “I may have a couple more things to add to that list. One, Dr. Andler gets paid an exorbitant amount for being an expert witness.”

  “They usually do.” Brady grimaced. “Unless they’re testifying for the prosecution.”

  “Well, he’s high priced for a small-town guy.” Quinn looked at Ashley and asked, “Who was paying him for your therapy?”

  Her mouth twisted sadly. “My mother’s paying for it. I should at least text her again. Let her know I’m still all right.”

  “I don’t think turning on your phone again is wise,” Brady said.

  Tracking. She’d forgotten. But then Quinn spoke. “You can use one of our phones again, with all ID and location masked. It might be useful to know what’s going on on that end. All we heard in town is that the search is on and the mayor is nearly hysterical.”

  Ashley felt a horrible jolt of guilt. All her mother had ever done was try to help her, and she was putting her through this.

  “Please, yes,” she said, almost breathlessly.

  “All right,” Quinn said.

  * * *

  Brady felt a little qualm at reading over her shoulder, but not enough to look away. He needed to think of this as part of an investigation, not snooping into the private business of a woman he…what? Was worried about? Sure. He had been since he’d found her in that car. Cared about? Of course. He’d care about anybody who was going through the hell she was going through.

  Wanted? Oh yeah.

  He tamped down his body’s instant response to just the thought. Maybe there was something to that old saying about if you save someone’s life, you’re connected forever. Maybe that’s all it was.

  Sure, that’s all it is, Crenshaw.

  He focused on the screen on the phone she was holding. After a greeting where he could almost hear the other woman’s cry of relief, the exchange rolled on.

  We’ve been searching everywhere, honey. The sheriff, the fire department. Where are you?

  I’m safe. Call them all off, it’s a waste of time and money.

  Brady found it interesting that she thought of that, considering the stress she was under.

  You need to be home with me. I’m the one who has your best interests at heart.

  I know that, Mom.

  I’m the only one who truly loves you.

  Brady frowned but kept reading.

  I just needed to get away for a little while.

  You shouldn’t be alone.

  I’m not.

  He frowned at that, too. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

  What? Who are you with? You have no friends. You know they couldn’t deal with your condition.

  That was cruel.

  Brady’s jaw tightened. It was more than that.

  You’re too sensitive. And defensive. I wish you could discuss this calmly, rationally.

  I just wanted you to know I’m with friends, and I’m fine. I’ll be home soon. We can talk then.

  You’re being irrational, Ashley. Making things up again. Like about the snow tires.

  She rubbed at her forehead, and Brady guessed her head had started to ache, because so had his. And the next line was an abrupt sign-off from Ashley.

  He looked at her. “Is this how it usually goes with her?”

  She nodded. He glanced at Quinn and saw an expression he guessed probably mirrored his own. He had a suspicion now, and it wasn’t one he much liked.

  * * *

  Ashley had the feeling the others had seen something she hadn’t. But that was hardly surprising these days. They didn’t say anything, and right now she didn’t have the energy to ask. After she had ended the text conversation with her mother—who would give her a lengthy lecture on manners and parental respect the next time she saw her—it had been all she could do to hold off a tension headache.

  Quinn had booted up his laptop, that industrial-looking thing that appeared as if it would have survived a drop down the mountain much better than her mom’s car had. And after a moment of moving through whatever program he’d opened, he went very still, reading intently. Then he looked up and spoke.

  “Ty discovered the doctor has a sizable offshore account.” Ashley didn’t know much about such things, but they’d always sounded faintly illicit. “Which in itself isn’t suspicious, but the fact that there have been big deposits after cases he’s testified in is…interesting.”

  “But you said before he gets paid a lot,” Ashley said.

  “Yes. And his agreed-to payment for that is deposited in a bank account here. Openly.”

  Brady went still. Stared at Quinn. Ashley wondered briefly how on earth Quinn had found that out. Clearly Foxworth had many sources and resources, in many places. Brady was right—they were a lot more than she ever would have imagined. And belatedly the actual meaning of what they’d discovered hit her.

>   “Wait…you mean he was secretly paid over and above what he got for testifying?” she asked.

  Quinn nodded. “It was all masked fairly well, several layers deep, and it wasn’t the only money in the account, but at the end of the trail, in large part the money came from either attorneys or agents for the people he was testifying for.”

  Brady swore under his breath. “Bribed. The ass—he was bribed for his testimony to go a certain way.”

  “Looks that way. Including in that case you mentioned, the rapist.”

  Brady spun around to look at her. Ashley saw an odd glint in his eye, an almost triumphant gleam. Not surprising, after what he’d said about Dr. Andler at that trial and what had so awfully happened afterward.

  But when he spoke, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about her. And he nearly spat out the connection she, still reeling a little, hadn’t quite made yet.

  “So there you have it. Your doctor, the guy who declared you mentally ill, is a damned, crooked liar.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Ashley was stunned, Brady could see that. Understandable, of course, given she’d just learned the man she’d trusted her very sanity to was a lying, corrupt bastard.

  “We can’t prove any of this yet,” Quinn cautioned. “Right now this is mostly speculation.”

  “Based on fact,” Brady said flatly.

  “Yes. But not enough fact for a court.”

  “I’m not worried about a court right now,” he said, and something like surprise flickered in Ashley’s eyes. What did she think, that he was going to be strictly by the book here? Hell, he was so far off even the last page of that book now that he’d be lucky to not end up in jail himself. And he didn’t care about that, either. Which should rattle him a lot more than it did.

  “Lay it out,” he said to Quinn, trying to keep from sounding as angry as he was. “All of it.” He wanted her to hear it, every bullet point, in succession.

  Quinn seemed to understand, and began the list. “He has an offshore account. Not huge, but sizable. He was given additional payments by entities and parties who had already paid for his testimony, so it was possibly to influence that testimony, since that money and the sources were hidden. If we are correct in that assumption, he played a part in the release and/or exoneration of not only that rapist, but an embezzler, a disbarred attorney and a driver accused of manslaughter. In which case, by the way, he testified that the victim was in such a state of confusion he should not have been allowed out by himself at all, let alone onto a busy street.”

  “‘Keep her home, Nan. Don’t let her out alone.’” Ashley whispered what were obviously remembered words, but Brady heard them. And the anger he was trying to suppress ratcheted up another notch. His suspicions were growing, and he was beginning feel the urge to hunt down this slimy excuse for a human and take him out.

  “We’re digging deeper, going back further,” Quinn said, “but as good as Ty is, it still takes time.”

  Brady gave the other man a glance. “I’m really glad I was warned not to think about how you get things done.”

  Quinn smiled easily. “For somebody used to going by the book, it’s usually best.”

  “I don’t mean to sound selfish here,” Ashley said, “but I still can’t help wondering what this all has to do with me.”

  “You’re not being selfish at all,” Hayley said reassuringly. “We need to tie this in to you and your situation.”

  “But I don’t see any connection. I mean, it’s disgusting and devastating to learn the truth about Dr. Andler, but that’s just money. Does it mean he’s a lousy psychiatrist?”

  Brady spun around. “Do you really want to take the word of somebody who can be bought off to let a rapist go free about your mental state?”

  “But it’s not just his word. I was having trouble before I ever started seeing him.”

  “The nightmares.”

  She nodded. “It was so bad I was afraid to go to sleep. I was awake most of the night most nights.”

  “And lack of sleep can cause half those problems,” Brady pointed out. “We had a horrific brushfire the entire county was called in on a few years ago. I didn’t sleep for more than an hour or two for nearly seventy-two hours. By that time I was loopier than a drunken ferret. I was surprised I knew my own name.”

  She was staring at him rather oddly. “Sometimes,” she said softly, “I think we all forget.”

  His brow furrowed. “What?”

  “How much we owe men like you.”

  “Amen,” Hayley said.

  “Not my point,” Brady said with a shake of his head. “I just meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Ashley said. “But since you won’t trumpet your laudable acts, somebody needs to do it for you.”

  “She has a point,” Quinn said mildly.

  Brady gave him a look over his shoulder. And took a stab at what he guessed was probably fact. “Drag out all your medals to wear on special occasions, do you, Foxworth?”

  For the first time since he’d met the man—damn, was it really only two weeks ago?—Quinn appeared nonplussed. And Hayley was laughing.

  “Gotcha,” she said cheerfully. “Nicely done, Brady.”

  The immediacy of his anger drained away; it was impossible to maintain in the face of Hayley Foxworth’s grin. Even Ashley was smiling, which under the circumstances was amazing. And once the anger had ebbed a little, his brain kicked back in. And something that had been tickling the edge of his memory for a while surfaced.

  “You have an appointment with Andler tomorrow, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “At four o’clock.” There was no confusion, no forgetting, he noted.

  He turned to look at Quinn. “He’s got to know she’s not showing up.”

  “I’m not?” Ashley asked.

  His gaze snapped back to her. “Hell, no. You don’t really want to go, do you?”

  “No. I don’t.” Her expression turned very odd, almost wondering. “It’s been a long time, or feels like it, since what I wanted had anything to do with…anything.”

  “Well, it does now,” Brady said rather fiercely.

  The smile she gave him then made every last bit of his fury fade away.

  * * *

  The snow was starting to melt. Not quickly, since it was still in the thirties, but it was several degrees above freezing and so the trickles were appearing, and bare branches here and the green of an evergreen bough there were beginning to show through. Ashley felt unexpectedly sad about that as she sat on the patio bench, realizing this spot would soon be just a normal patio again, open and no doubt with a lovely view, but no longer with this feeling of privacy and seclusion.

  She’d been glad when Hayley had suggested she take a break from it all. She’d gratefully come out here, followed by Cutter, who was now sitting at her feet with his chin resting on her knee. The dog really was an amazing comfort and a stalwart companion as she tried to sort out the mass of information and emotions that had enveloped her.

  His head came up, and she saw the wag of his tail. A moment later the patio door opened, and Brady stepped out. The dog had no doubts about Brady, obviously. But then, neither did she. Not about who he was at the core, a good, decent, brave and on occasion heroic man. It was no surprise that she was attracted to him. What woman wouldn’t be?

  She saw he was carrying two steaming mugs. He sat down on the bench—close, but not too close, meaning not close enough for her taste—and held one out to her.

  “I think I may be coffee’d out,” she said; she’d had several cups trying to jolt her brain into moving faster on all this.

  “It’s not coffee,” he said. “Hayley seemed to think chocolate was called for, so she picked some up when they were out.”

  “Bless her,” Ashley said, meaning it as she took the proffered cup.

&nb
sp; She took a long, slow sip, savoring the rich taste, then the warmth as it went down. He took a swallow of his own, then cupped his hands around the mug. She thought of how his hand had felt on hers. Which led to how his lips had felt on hers. And in that moment there was nothing she wanted more than to taste his mouth again.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. She blinked. He’d already apologized for kissing her, an apology she’d hardly felt necessary. “I lost my cool in there, and I shouldn’t have.”

  Ashley felt color rise in her cheeks, and she looked down into her mug as if the rising steam could mask it. He’d probably long forgotten that kiss, while she couldn’t seem to get it out of her mind. But then the sense of what he’d said registered.

  “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since anyone was angry on my behalf? How long it’s been since anyone thought of me as anything except someone to be pitied or avoided?”

  “Too long,” he said gruffly.

  “Yes. So please, don’t apologize for that.” She took another swallow of the rich, sweet brew before she asked, “How did you know Quinn had medals?”

  He snorted, meeting her gaze with a grin that warmed her more than the chocolate. “Seriously? That guy? He’s got hero painted all over him.”

  “Yes, he does.” She waited a moment before adding quietly, “Just like you.”

  He looked startled, then shook his head. “I’m just a guy trying to do a job in a place where it’s not usually too hard.”

  “But when it is, you’re there and you deal. What else is a hero?”

  Brady lowered his eyes, as if embarrassed, but Cutter let out a short, sharp bark that she supposed would be called a yip but sounded crazily like “Yep!” She’d never realized dogs made so many different kinds of sounds, and how expressive they could be.

  Brady reached out to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. To do it he had to lean over her, and his arm brushed over her breast. Even though the touch was clearly accidental, it sent a jolt through her, leaving her very skin tingling.