by Rita Herron
Had sensed his comforting presence and had been able to drift back to sleep because she knew he was by her side.
It’s only temporary. Don’t get used to it.
As soon as they solved this case, he’d disappear from her life.
“Peyton?” Liam asked. “Another nightmare?”
“Just reality,” she said softly.
He shifted and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked rumpled and sexy and so masculine that a tingle went through her. He represented everything that was good about a man. Strength and honor. After living in fear for five years, he was just what she needed.
She pushed at the covers to get up. “I need to check on Mama.”
He held up a finger. “Wait. I’ll text Deputy Rowan.”
“I want to see her myself.” She shoved the covers away, then realized she was wearing a hospital gown and nothing else. “Where are my clothes?”
“I’ll ask the nurse.” He stood and looked down at her, the dark flecks in his eyes flaring with concern. “How do you feel?”
She shifted and pressed a hand to her chest as she breathed. “A little sore, but I’m okay.” She glanced around the room. “Check that closet. Maybe the nurse put my clothes in there.”
He gave a little nod, crossed the room and found a plastic hospital bag in the closet. He retrieved it and brought the bag to her.
“While I change, please ask the nurse to get my release papers.”
He arched a brow. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
No, but she didn’t like being a patient. And if her sister returned to her apartment—or if the man who’d threatened her did—she wanted to be there.
Liam stepped from the room, and she dressed quickly. Bruises darkened her chest and arms and legs. She was sore all over, but nothing was broken. All in all, she’d come out of that crash better than she’d expected.
She was alive. So was her mother. That was all that mattered.
By the time Liam returned with the nurse, she was dressed and ready to leave.
“Let’s check your vitals one more time,” the nurse said. “The doctor wants to make sure they’re stable before he releases you.”
Peyton choked back a protest. She knew the drill, but impatience nagged at her. Knowing what it was like to deal with difficult patients, she allowed the nurse to do her job. The doctor came in a few minutes later and examined her.
“Do you feel nauseated? Any dizziness?”
She shook her head. “I know the symptoms of a concussion and what to do. But I’m fine. Really.”
He signed off on her release and the nurse hurried to retrieve a wheelchair. Liam stood silently by, watching quietly. When the nurse entered with the chair, Peyton told her she wanted to go see her mother, and the nurse pushed her to the elevator. Again, Liam stood by, quiet and protective. When they reached her mother’s room, he spoke with the deputy who was dressed in scrubs as a disguise.
Joanna was asleep in the recliner, so Peyton dismissed the nurse, then crossed the room to her mother’s bed. Joanna stirred from sleep and looked up at her just as Peyton pressed her hand over her mother’s.
Her hand felt warm, a good sign. And her breathing seemed steadier.
“They took her off the oxygen and she’s breathing on her own,” Joanna said.
Another good sign. Except that her mother still hadn’t woken up. “I don’t understand why she hasn’t regained consciousness,” she murmured.
“Her body obviously needs rest,” Joanna reminded her. “You know age makes it more difficult to recover. But she’ll come through this.”
Peyton didn’t like to be reminded of her mother’s age. No matter what she did, one day her mother would leave this world.
Pain squeezed at her heart. Then she would be all alone.
And that thought terrified her.
Chapter Fifteen
“Any problems last night?” Liam asked Deputy Rowan.
The deputy shook his head no. “Mrs. Weiss rested all night. Joanna stayed in the room with her and talked to the nurses when they checked her vitals.” He glanced at his watch. “Sheriff Maverick is sending over my replacement soon.”
“Thanks,” Liam said. “Go home and get some rest yourself. Hopefully this protective detail won’t last long, but until we figure out who tried to kill Mrs. Weiss, we can’t leave her without protection.”
Liam poked his head in and asked Peyton and Joanna if they wanted coffee. Joanna stood and stretched. “I’m going home to shower and get to work.”
“I’d like coffee,” Peyton said softly.
“I’ll be right back.”
Liam took the elevator to the lower floor. A flurry of noise came from the ER as the doors whooshed open and two medics rushed in pushing a gurney. Miller Conrad raced beside them, his breath panting out.
Liam veered into the waiting area just as the medics started to push Conrad’s mother through the double doors. “What happened?”
“She’s having trouble breathing. I didn’t want her to die at home.” Anguish tinged his tone. “I have to go.” Conrad raced behind his mother and the medics through the double doors.
Liam headed to the cafeteria, picked up a couple of muffins and coffee, then texted Bennett. Update on Miller Conrad and Herbert Brantley?
Bennett responded, Working on it.
He sent Jacob a text, too. Exhumation?
Jacob: Ten o’clock this morning. Will keep you posted.
Antsy, Liam strode back to the elevator and hurried upstairs to check on Peyton. When he arrived at her mother’s room, the deputies were trading shifts. Peyton sat by her mother’s bed, her head bowed.
His heart ached for her. She looked so lost, alone and terrified that he wanted to make things right for her.
Deputy Rowan briefed the other deputy, then Liam showed him a photo of Herbert Brantley, then one of Miller Conrad. “If one of these men shows up, call me immediately. And do not, for any reason, allow them to enter Mrs. Weiss’s room.”
He didn’t like the fact that Conrad was downstairs, in the same hospital as Peyton’s mother. He didn’t like it one damn bit.
* * *
PEYTON DIDN’T WANT to leave her mother, but the doctor assured her that she was stable. After she’d finished the coffee and muffin, she’d looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not wanting to frighten her mother when she woke up, she needed to shower and camouflage her bruises.
Besides, she was so stiff and sore she could barely move without groaning. And she refused to be a weakling in front of the agent.
The sight of Liam talking to the deputy gave her a small measure of relief. With her mother under protective custody, she had to do everything in her power to help Liam find the person who’d hurt her.
She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Rest up, Mama. When you’re better, our life will be good again.” Hopefully, she could stop looking over her shoulder and living in fear.
She made the deputy promise not to leave her mother’s room, and he assured her he would watch over her as if she was his own mother. Liam placed his hand at the small of her back and walked her to the elevator. Peyton gritted her teeth to keep from wincing with every step she took.
“Are you sure you don’t need to stay in the hospital for observation for another day?”
“I’m sure.” She tugged her jacket around her as they exited the elevator. Before they passed the ER, Liam stopped and pulled her into the waiting room.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Do you remember a male PA named Miller Conrad? He worked at Whistler at the same time you did.” Liam removed his phone and showed her the man’s photograph.
Peyton’s heart stuttered. The man definitely looked familiar.
“He was working the night Gloria Inman died,” Liam explained.
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She massaged her temple in thought. “I think he was there, but not in the room with Gloria.” If she had the hospital records, she’d know for sure. But the fire complicated everything.
“Why are you asking about him?” Peyton questioned.
Liam spoke in a whisper. “According to people he worked with, he has a soft spot for seniors. And he’s intensely critical of family members who he perceives aren’t taking care of their parents.”
Peyton narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand. Where are you going with this?”
“Three patients died suspicious deaths at medical facilities where he worked. Did you know that?”
Peyton’s pulse jumped. “No.”
“His father was also a resident of Golden Gardens and died there.”
Cold fear washed over Peyton. “But he’s not employed at the Gardens.”
“No. But as a visitor, he probably learned his way in and out of the place, and how to avoid security.”
He was right. “I asked our security guard to pull the tapes around Mama’s the night that man broke in my place. Mama said she saw a man earlier.”
“Then she might be able to identify him,” Liam said.
“Oh, God,” Peyton whispered. “That’s why he tried to kill her.”
Footsteps sounded, then she saw Miller Conrad emerge through the double doors leading from the ER exam rooms to the waiting room.
“His mother is terminal,” Liam said. “He just brought her in.”
Judging from the way his shoulders were slumped, the news wasn’t good.
The man looked up and saw her and Liam, and his body tensed.
Liam crossed to him. “How’s your mother?”
Conrad shook his head. “She’s gone.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rushed outside.
Liam motioned for Peyton to follow him to the nurse’s desk where he identified himself and asked to speak to the attending physician. A minute later, a tall woman in a white coat appeared and introduced herself.
Liam quickly explained that Miller Conrad was a person of interest in a possible homicide and that he wanted an autopsy performed on Conrad’s mother. “The formal request will be on your desk in an hour.”
She simply nodded, then disappeared back into the ER.
Peyton clutched Liam’s arm. “If you think he’s the man who threatened me and hurt my mother, he might come back here.”
Liam rubbed her back. “It’s possible, but he’s distraught, and he knows I’m here. He’d be stupid to try something else right now.” He offered her an encouraging look. “Besides, I showed the deputy Conrad’s photograph and gave him orders to call me if he shows up, and not to let him in to see your mother.”
Peyton’s pulse pounded. “I still don’t like leaving her.”
“She’s safe now. Let’s go look at that security footage. If Conrad is on them, I’ll have enough to bring him in for questioning.”
* * *
QUESTIONS STILL RATTLED around inside Liam’s brain. Conrad’s sympathy for seniors and his turmoil over his mother’s condition could trigger him to commit mercy killings or even assisted suicide. But he didn’t see the connection between him and Gloria Inman.
Mrs. Inman had been late forties and had years of life ahead.
Although...the possibility of assisted suicide led to another point. What if Conrad was paid by the people to help end their lives? Either by the elderly patient or one of their family members who no longer wanted to see them suffer?
His phone dinged with a call.
Peyton twisted her hands together as he drove toward Golden Gardens, and he pressed Bennett’s number. “I’m driving. You’re on Speaker. Peyton Weiss is with me, but you can speak freely. What do you have?”
“It’s about the two patients who died at the hospital where Conrad worked. First Edna Fouts, seventy-nine. Suffered from Parkinson’s complicated by delusions and memory loss associated with the disease. She was in stage five, had fallen several times, was unable to get out of bed, and experienced deep vein thrombosis. She died in her sleep.”
“Was an autopsy performed?”
“No, the family said she’d suffered enough. They didn’t want to put her through anything else.”
Dammit. “Go on.”
“Patient number two—Lydia Corgin, eighty-three. Suffered from Alzheimer’s. Again, late stages. She’d stopped getting out of bed, refused to eat and drink. Then she developed pneumonia. Again, no autopsy.”
Liam’s chest tightened. “And the third?”
“Conrad took the job at Serenity Now after that. Hilda Rogers, eighty-one, had a history of heart failure. She suffered a stroke and died in her room before the ambulance arrived. Again, no autopsy. Doctor and family agreed that she was ready to go. Son stated that he was glad she was finally at peace.”
Liam bit back a curse. “Listen, Bennett, it’s possible these deaths were natural causes. But we can’t discount mercy killings. In light of the fact that none of them were autopsied, we also could be dealing with assisted suicides.”
“I’ll research his financials and see if there’s anything off,” Bennett said. “And I’ll start looking at the families. See if there’s anything strange about their insurance policies or financials.”
Peyton was watching him, anxiety radiating from her rigid posture, as he ended the call.
“I understand why you suspect Conrad of killing those other women, but why would he hurt Gloria Inman? She had health issues, but she wasn’t terminal.”
“Maybe not. But what if Inman wanted out of his marriage and he learned Conrad could be paid to help. Maybe he took advantage of that. Or he could have even blackmailed Conrad into killing Gloria.”
Peyton paled, and Liam pressed Jacob’s number to fill him in on his latest theory.
He could be wrong. The pieces were still floating around in his head and he hadn’t yet connected them. They might not all be related either.
But at this point, he couldn’t discount any possibility.
* * *
PEYTON COULDN’T SHAKE her worry for her mother as Liam parked in front of the main building at Golden Gardens. Was Miller Conrad a mercy killer or a killer for hire?
She texted Fred that they’d arrived, and he met them at the front door and led them to his office. “I already pulled the footage,” Fred said.
“Did you look at it?” Peyton asked.
“I haven’t had a chance,” he said. “It’s been a crazy day.”
“What do you mean?” Peyton asked.
The age lines around Fred’s mouth thinned with his frown. “We lost a patient,” Fred said quietly. “Leon.”
The hair on the back of Peyton’s neck bristled. Leon Brittles who’d seen Val the other night.
“What happened?” Peyton asked.
“I don’t know exactly. You’ll have to ask Dr. Sweetwater. She rushed to try to save him, but it was too late. His body is on its way to the funeral home.”
Liam’s suspicions about a mercy killer or assisted suicide taunted her.
Poor Leon. He had no family. No one to call. No one to ask questions about his death.
Chapter Sixteen
Peyton inhaled a deep breath. “How did Leon die?”
Fred pulled a hand down his chin. “All I know is that he wandered out in the garden sometime during the night. Ms. Marley found him this morning when she went for a walk after breakfast. She was pretty upset. Dr. Sweetwater gave her a sedative to calm her down.”
Poor lady.
Liam cleared his throat. “Was Leon seriously ill?”
“He had Alzheimer’s, and got confused a lot,” Peyton said. “But he was mobile and wasn’t suffering from any other fatal disease.”
Liam folded his arms. “Did Dr. Sweetwater order an autopsy?”
Fred shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll call her and ask.” Peyton pulled her phone from her purse and pressed the geriatrician’s number. She answered on the third ring. “I heard about Leon,” Peyton said. “Did you order an autopsy?”
“No,” she replied. “I didn’t see a need at his age.”
“I’m here with Special Agent Liam Maverick,” Peyton said.
Liam gestured for her to let him have the phone, and she handed it to him. He stepped aside, and she heard him request an autopsy.
“Did Ms. Marley say she saw anything suspicious when she found Leon?” Peyton asked Fred.
Fred twirled a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “Not that I know of. Just that he was lying in the rosebushes when she got there.”
Peyton wanted to talk to Ms. Marley herself. “About those tapes I asked for?”
“I made you a copy.” He pulled an envelope from his desk and handed it to her.
“Agent Maverick will want footage of the rose garden last night and this morning. Can you pull that?”
“Give me a few minutes.” Fred ran a hand through his thinning hair. “What’s going on, Peyton? First you tell me someone broke into your place, now you’re acting like there might be foul play surrounding Leon’s death.”
“I don’t know exactly,” Peyton said. “But Agent Maverick is thorough.” She showed him a picture of Miller Conrad. “Have you seen this man around here?”
Fred adjusted his glasses and peered at the photograph. “That’s Miller. His daddy was here. Died in his room.”
“Have you seen him at the Gardens lately?”
“Sure have. He got real friendly with some of the residents when he visited his daddy. Every now and then he drops by, so they know he still cares.”
Peyton’s breath caught. “Did he visit Leon?”
“Sometimes. They liked to play pinochle together.”
But Leon wasn’t critically ill so a mercy killing wouldn’t fit. And he had no family who might want to cash in on his finances when he died.
Unless he’d seen something, like the man who’d broken into her place. But even if he had witnessed something, he would make an unreliable witness.
