“You want me to keep an eye on Janelle while you take Laney out on a date?” Ivy asked, her expression neutral but her dark eyes twinkling.
“Insubordination, Hawkins,” he warned, but he couldn’t put much authority behind the words, since she was mostly right.
“If you need someone to take the night shift, I could call Sutton and see if he could do it,” Ivy suggested. “He had a late shift at the detective agency last night, but he was off today and is off tomorrow. He napped earlier today, so he should be rested and alert. He could stay until we can pull someone else off the job to take over guard duty.”
“I can’t pay him,” Doyle warned.
“He’d do it for free. We’ve known Laney and her family for years. She’s from up on Smoky Ridge,” she added, as if that meant something to Doyle. It clearly meant something to her.
“I’ve got to see who would be available. Mind if I pass the names by you? I want to make sure whoever we assign to guard Janelle is someone I can trust. And right now, there are only a few people here I know well enough to trust.”
“I’m honored to be considered one of them.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I
am
one of them, right?”
“You are.” He smiled. “Even if you’re incorrigibly sassy mouthed and prone to meddling in your superior’s personal business.”
“I’ll call Sutton and get him here for the evening shift. That’ll give you time to assign someone overnight. Meanwhile, I’ll stay until you and Laney finish your, um, dinner.” She stopped there, but he still saw the gleam of humor in her eyes.
He had to be careful, he thought. His laid-back style of police work had made him a favorite on the Ridley County Sheriff’s Department back in Alabama, even with some of the criminals he’d dealt with, but he knew it might not serve him well as a chief of police. He didn’t need to become friends with the people under his supervision, even if it was his inclination to do so. In some cases, too much familiarity could definitely breed contempt.
But he also didn’t believe that authoritarianism for its own sake was an effective management style.
He’d have to figure it out on the fly, he supposed.
He stepped back into the hospital room. “Laney, when was the last time you ate anything?”
She looked up, surprised by the question. “I had some crackers around noon.”
“Grab your coat,” he said. “We’re going out to dinner.”
* * *
“T
HIS
BOSSY
STREAK
of yours is a little disconcerting,” Laney commented as she and Doyle left behind the warmth of the Thai restaurant and headed across the street to where he’d parked his truck. She’d figured when he coaxed her out of Janelle’s room for dinner that they’d grab something in the hospital cafeteria. But he’d insisted on getting all the way out of the hospital, assuring her that Ivy would take good care of her sister.
She’d been the one to suggest the Thai place, half expecting he’d be reluctant. Or maybe she’d been hoping for it, for some sign that he was unsuitable as an object of the desire she was having more and more difficulty ignoring.
But he’d foiled her hopes, ordering with ease and even coaxing her into trying one of the more exotic dishes she’d never had the guts to sample before.
Pla sam rot
tasted much better than it looked; the fish—fried whole, head and all, and served in a spicy sweet tamarind sauce—had been delicious.
“I spent some time in Thailand after college,” he’d told her. “A college pal’s father worked for Chevron in Thailand, and he invited me to visit awhile. We taught English in one of the smaller cities for about a year. It was an adventure.”
So much for dampening her interest in him. Now he was more intriguing than ever.
When he slid his arm around her shoulders as she shivered in the cold wind, she couldn’t have kept herself from snuggling closer to him if she’d wanted to. “Bossy, huh?” he asked. “I’m practicing my people-handling skills. How am I doing?”
“Not bad,” she admitted.
“Brrr.” He made a show of shivering as he dug in his pocket for his truck keys. “How long before spring?”
“By late April, it’ll be a lot less chilly,” she promised. “I guess you’re used to warmer weather down on the gulf.”
“It gets cold, but not like this.” He helped her into the cab before he walked around and slid behind the steering wheel. He turned to look at her, his expression thoughtful. “You thought I’d balk at Thai food, didn’t you?”
She couldn’t have felt more naked if she’d been literally free of clothing, standing in the middle of the street. Either he was uncannily perceptive or she needed to do a little work on her poker face.
“I was hoping you would,” she admitted.
“Why?” The glint in his moss-green eyes suggested he already knew the answer, but he seemed intent on making her admit it.
She sighed and tugged her coat more tightly around her. “I don’t need a complication in my life.”
“And I’m a complication?”
“Yes.” A big, good-humored, impossibly sexy complication.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not really looking for complications, either.” But even as he said the words, he leaned closer to her, the heat of his body washing over her, his eyes glittering with feral intent.
“No?” she breathed, her chest tight with anticipation.
“No,” he answered, his lips brushing hers.
Her fingers curling in his hair, she tugged him closer, her body humming with pleasure. He leaned in, ignoring the console that sat inconveniently between them. He grumbled as his rib cage hit the gear shift, but he didn’t stop kissing her, and she felt her control slipping away in a heated rush.
It took a second to realize the vibration against her hip came from her phone. Groaning, she pulled away and tugged the offending instrument from her pocket. Recognizing the number as her sister’s hospital-room extension, she put her hand on Doyle’s chest and pressed the answer button. “Jannie?” She sounded as breathless as if she’d run a race.
“Please come back, Laney. Please.” Janelle sounded teary.
“On my way, sweetie. Has something happened?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Janelle’s voice turned into a soft wail. “I think I remember what happened that night.”
Chapter Ten
Janelle looked pale and red eyed, but Doyle was glad to see she hadn’t fallen apart completely while waiting for them to return from dinner. She held out her arms to Laney, who gave her younger sister a fierce, protective hug while Ivy and Doyle stood a few feet away, allowing the sisters a moment.
Laney cradled Janelle’s face between her hands. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Yes. I just—” Janelle closed her eyes tightly, as if she could shut out whatever it was she’d remembered. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Laney exchanged a quick glance with Doyle. He gave her an encouraging smile as she turned back to her sister. “I’m right here. Tell me what you remembered.”
“The aide brought my dinner just after you left, and you know I get sleepy after I eat—” Janelle cut herself off abruptly, as if she realized she was stalling. She took a deep breath. “I dreamed about the camping trip. It was so real. And then I remembered his face.”
“Whose face?” Laney asked.
“The man who shot Missy.” Janelle’s throat bobbed with emotion. “The man who shot me.”
Laney looked at Doyle again, her blue eyes haunted. He stepped forward, pulling a chair closer to the bed, near enough to Laney to touch her if he wanted. But he kept his hands to himself, despite the urge to offer his comfort.
Janelle looked at him. “I can tell you what he looks like, but I don’t know who he is.”
“He’s not someone from around here, then?”
“No.” Her fingers tightened around Laney’s, her knuckles whitening. “He was older, like in his forties or fifties. He had blond hair, or maybe it was blond with gray. Thinning but not completely bald.” She closed her eyes a moment, as if trying to conjure up the picture from her memory. “I think he had blue eyes, or maybe gray. It was early morning, and still kind of dark, so I can’t be sure.”
“And you’re sure this is a memory and not just a dream?” Laney asked.
“I’m sure. I was getting my gear together—we had to get a move on if Missy and I were going to make it to school on time. Missy was outside the shelter, about to write something in the logbook when she started cussing.”
Doyle glanced at Laney and saw that she was making the same connection he was. He wasn’t surprised by Janelle’s next words and neither was Laney.
“She’d found this photograph of the three of us sleeping in the shelter.” Janelle shuddered. “Someone must have taken it the night before. It was so creepy. Missy showed it to me and then, suddenly, he was there.”
“The older man?” Doyle asked.
“Yes.” Janelle’s face crumpled. “He aimed the gun at Missy and sh-shot her. I think he must have just wounded her the first time, because she started to run away.”
“And he chased after her?”
Janelle shook her head, her whole body shaking. “Not then. First, he came into the shelter and aimed his gun at me.”
Doyle heard Laney’s soft intake of breath, but he didn’t let himself be sidetracked by his concern for her. Janelle needed to tell him what she remembered as much for herself as for his case. “Is that when he shot you?”
“Yes,” she whispered through her tears. “I think I must have turned away, to try to get up and run.” She wiped her eyes with the edge of her bed sheet. “That’s the last thing I remember.”
“You said before that you girls met someone on the trail earlier. Someone named Ray—”
“Stop.” Laney’s hand snaked out and grabbed his arm. She turned fierce blue eyes on him. “Enough. Leave her alone.”
“We need to know everything she can recall,” Doyle said with quiet urgency, understanding her need to protect her sister but not willing to let it stop him from getting the information he needed. Janelle may have been injured and traumatized, but she was going to live.
He wanted to give Joy Adderly the same chance, if she had any chance at all.
“I’m tired,” Janelle murmured, closing her eyes. He could feel her starting to withdraw behind the comfort of forgetfulness.
“Janelle, please, I need just a little more information.”
She ignored his quiet plea, and Laney slid off the hospital bed, standing firmly between him and her sister. “I think you need to go now.”
He stared at her, angry and frustrated. “I’m not the enemy.”
Laney’s expression softened, but only slightly. “I know. I’m just asking you to give her a little time to recover.”
He nodded toward the door, where Ivy stood guard. Laney frowned, obviously reluctant to follow him, but when he moved, she followed.
“Please go to Jannie,” she murmured to Ivy as Doyle led her outside the room. “She’s upset.”
Ivy squeezed Laney’s arm. “Okay.”
“Come get me if she needs me.”
Doyle led Laney down the hall to the waiting area, which was empty, since visiting hours wouldn’t be over until nine. He waved toward one corner of the room, where a couple of chairs sat half facing each other. When she sat, he pulled out his chair so that he faced her directly. “I’m sorry for pushing.”
She seemed surprised by the apology, and just a little suspicious, as well. “I know you’re doing your job.”
“I am. And what your sister just told me is a huge break in the case, you know. I need to know everything she remembers.”
She pushed her hair back from her pale face, looking tired and sad. “I know. I just hated watching her relive it.”
He put his hand over hers. “She’s starting to remember things, though, and that’s good. Not just for me and this case but for her, too.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how remembering someone trying to kill you could be a good thing.”
“She already knows it happened. Remembering it helps to demystify what happened. She can’t make it any bigger in her mind than it was.”
“She can’t make it any smaller, either.”
He didn’t know what to say in response. Laney was right. The more her sister remembered, the more she’d have to deal with emotionally.
But remembering could be the difference between finding Joy Adderly alive or bringing her home in a body bag.
“I think we should consider hypnosis.”
Laney looked at him as if he’d just suggested torture. “No.”
“I know it’s not admissible in court, and I’m not even sure how reliable recovered memories are, but I do think hypnosis could help Janelle work through her fears. There are things she may not be remembering because she’s afraid to, and hypnosis could help her control her fears enough to allow herself to get a clearer picture of what happened.”
“She had a pretty clear picture of the man who shot her,” Laney countered, rising to her feet and pacing across the room until she reached the wide picture windows that normally looked out on the mist-shrouded mountains to the east. But nightfall had turned the windows into large mirrors, reflecting Laney’s conflicted expression and the concern in his own eyes.
“I know.” He needed to call it in to his office, he realized, to see if the description rang any bells for his officers. He also needed to see if the department had access to a sketch artist who could come to the hospital and work with Janelle on a composite.
“You don’t know what it was like before.” Laney’s breath fogged the glass of the window. She ran her finger through the condensation, making a streak. “When she was in the accident, I mean. We’d lost Bradley and the doctors weren’t giving us a lot of hope for Jannie. She was so little.” Laney lifted her hand to her mouth briefly, then dropped it to her side. “So many tubes and bandages. Her face was bruised and swollen—I remember the first time I saw her that way, I told my mother the paramedics had made a mistake. That wasn’t Jannie.”
He touched her shoulder, let his hand slide lightly, comfortingly down her back. She met his gaze in the window reflection, her lips curving in a faint smile.
“But it was, of course.”
“She was ten, right?” He thought that was what she’d told him before.
“Yeah. Smart as a whip, and full of crazy energy. A pistol ball, my daddy used to call her. God, he loved her so much. She was his comfort when he was dying. His little pistol ball.”
He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest. She rested her temple against his cheek. “How long did it take for her to recover?”
“She lost two years of forward movement, basically. When she woke up from the coma, she had to learn everything all over again. The doctors weren’t sure she ever would get all her functions back, but they didn’t know Jannie.”
“She can’t remember anything from the first ten years of her life?”
“No. She doesn’t really remember Bradley or Dad. Only the stories we told her about them once she was able to understand everything that had happened.”
He thought about his own parents, about the brother he’d lost, and the idea of not remembering them was so wretched he felt tears sting his eyes. He kissed the top of Laney’s head. “I’m sorry.”
“Maybe it was easier, not remembering what she’d lost.” There was a wistful tone in Laney’s voice, a reminder that whatever memories Janelle had lost had remained vivid and painful in her older sister’s memories.
“I’m not sure avoiding the pain is worth losing the memories,” he murmured.
She turned around to look at him. “Is that your way of saying I’m being stubborn about the hypnosis?”
“No, I’m just saying I’d hate to lose my memories of my parents and David. Even if I also lost the memory of losing them.”
She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. He didn’t know if he’d convinced her he was right about Janelle, but at least she seemed to be considering what he’d said.
“I’d like to go down to the gift shop and find something to cheer Jannie up.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”
She pressed her hand against his chest. “No. I need to be alone for a little while. To think about everything you said.”
He frowned, remembering why he’d come to the hospital in the first place. “I’m not sure I like you wandering around here by yourself.”
She gave him an odd look. “You’re never really alone in a hospital.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re thinking about that photograph.”
“I don’t think it was some coincidence.”
“Obviously not. But it also doesn’t mean someone’s going to hunt me down in a busy hospital and try to shoot me.”
He knew she was probably right. And she was right about the hospital being a place where a person was never really alone. Between patients, visitors and staffers wandering around the halls at all hours, privacy was about the last thing a person was able to find in a place like this.
And there were security guards on the first floor, where the gift shop was located—he’d seen them as he entered earlier that evening.
“Okay. I’ll go back and make sure Ivy and Janelle are doing okay.”
“Have you arranged a guard for tonight?” she asked as he walked with her into the hallway.
“Ivy asked Sutton Calhoun to fill in until I can find a replacement. He’s probably on his way here by now.”
She nodded with approval. “Sutton’s a good guy.”
He bent and pressed his lips to hers, the touch undemanding. But he felt a pleasant rush of heat pour through him even so. “Hurry back.”
He headed down the hall toward Janelle’s room, sparing a look back down the hall over his shoulder as he reached the door. Laney stood near the elevator alcove, her gaze on him. Her lips curved in a brief smile, then she turned and walked into the alcove, disappearing from sight.
He went into Janelle’s room and found her napping, while Ivy and a tall, dark-haired man conversed, head to head, in quiet tones near the window. They both turned at the sound of the door opening, their hands dropping to the weapons holstered at their waists. They relaxed when they saw who had entered. Ivy caught the tall man’s hand and tugged him with her toward Doyle.
“Chief, this is my fiancé, Sutton Calhoun. Sutton, this is Doyle Massey.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” Sutton said with a smile of greeting. “I know a couple of friends of yours—J.D. and Natalie Cooper.”
“Oh, right,” Ivy said. “I forgot you worked with Natalie down in Terrebonne.”
“Worked with J.D. once, too.”
“Where’s Laney?” Ivy asked.
“She went to the gift shop to get something for Janelle.” He glanced at the hospital bed and lowered his voice. “How is she?”
“She drifted off soon after you left,” Ivy answered quietly. “Shouldn’t you have gone with Laney? What happened to being her bodyguard?”
“She needed some time alone,” he answered, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake. “I figured, since there’s security here in the hospital, she’d be okay.”
Ivy didn’t disagree, but she also looked concerned, which made him second-guess his decision to let Laney go to the gift shop alone.
Fifteen minutes, he decided. He’d give her that long to get the gift and return to the room. If she wasn’t back in fifteen minutes, he’d go look for her.
What could happen in fifteen minutes?
* * *
L
ANEY
ALMOST
TURNED
back to her sister’s hospital room when she reached the first floor and found that the normally busy hospital lobby was nearly empty. Even the employee who normally manned the front desk was missing in action. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought the hospital had been abandoned.
But she shook off her nerves and walked down the silent corridor until she reached the gift shop. It was mostly empty, too, but a woman with curly gray hair stood behind the counter and greeted her with a smile when she entered, making her feel less vulnerable and alone.
She needed to get her emotions under control. Janelle needed her to be strong and unflappable. She couldn’t fall apart every time she heard some new detail about her sister’s ordeal. She needed to be the sane one. The one her sister could depend on to be her rock.
As she searched for something to cheer her sister up, her mind wandered back to the question of who had called Delilah Hammond off her guard assignment. From what Doyle had told her, it almost had to be someone familiar with the Bitterwood P.D.’s procedures. Possibly even someone in the police department itself.
She’d been assigned to look into corruption in the department before her sister’s injury and Missy Adderly’s murder had distracted her. Maybe it was time she got back to the job assigned to her.