Bar soaps and shampoo bottles lined up the shelf next to Avery’s shoulder. Her brother had readied the bathroom. She could only hope he’d also stocked the cupboard with towels.
As she washed his hair and gently scrubbed cuts and scratches, she recounted Cooper’s visit. Avery flinched on many occasions. If he said anything, she didn’t see it. Once she finished with his front upper body, she moved to his back. Blood trickled from the knife wound, a far cry from the hemorrhage she’d feared based on the amount of blood that had stained his jacket and shirt.
“I was Cooper’s bargaining chip.” By keeping Avery’s focus on Cooper’s motives, she hoped to divert his attention from the pain she was undoubtedly causing while examining his knife injury. “He wanted to trade me for the paternity test, but not before I begged him for his silence. He’d apparently propositioned me in the past and hadn’t handled the rejection well.” A frayed substance had penetrated the wound. She poked at it with her nail. It was soft, but it didn’t feel like human flesh. “There’s a foreign object stuck in your back. I need to remove it.”
When he nodded, she took a deep breath to settle down her nerves. Having no other option than to probe the cut with her finger didn’t make the operation any less distressing. Avery was the last person on whom she wanted to inflict pain. That he remained stoic while she extricated a shred of fabric astonished her.
“It was a piece of your shirt…I think.” Relieved neither of them fainted, she knelt down and leaned her head against his good shoulder. “I’m no doctor. Let’s never do this again.”
He ran his hand into her hair, cupping the side of her head. When she looked up, her lips grazed his cheek. His mouth moved, but he was too close for her to make sense of his words.
“I…I can’t hear, Avery. I guess you could say I’m deaf.”
Of all the reactions she’d anticipated, smiling wasn’t on the list.
He nudged her onto his lap. “You did good Hannah. I was going to return the favor and wash your back, but I’m feeling a little dizzy right now.”
The steam of the shower had collaborated with the fever to paint a rosy glow over his body.
“Don’t move. I’ll get something to dry you off.”
To continue rinsing the wound while she searched the cupboards, she left the water running down his back. A red filament meandered past his feet and followed the flow of water to the drain. With any luck, he wouldn’t suffer any more significant blood loss.
Among the towels piled by sizes and colors were two yellow rubber duckies, a folded pink bathrobe, a hairdryer, and a well-stocked first aid kit. A silent sigh scraped her throat.
Freddy had been ready to welcome her and Rory—and she’d refused.
***
“What happened here, Coop?” Reed surveyed the ransacked kitchen of the pitiful constable under his command. “Where’s Stone?”
“Good questions.” Ever since Lee walked in with the intent of confronting Stone, he’d asked himself the same things. After subduing Parker, he’d rummaged in vain through Stone’s house but not to this extent. Someone had come in afterwards and combed every inch.
“A floozy was sleeping over.” His sergeant approached a drawer and slammed it shut. “Maybe she searched the place for booze or drugs. Stone tried to stop her. They fought. One took off in the storm, and the other followed.”
“I don’t know.” Had the sergeant recognized Parker as the floozy, he wouldn’t have concocted such an incongruous scenario. “Stone may be a drunk, Sarge, but he’s more cunning than that.”
There was no way Parker had escaped his bathroom on her own.
The woman isn’t that smart.
Someone had worked out her location and rescued her.
While Lee’s money was on Stone, it didn’t explain why someone tore through his house. If this were a setup to incriminate him—Lee Jarvis Cooper, a respected constable—in Parker’s disappearance, heads would roll—starting with Stone’s.
Reed jingled his keys, breaking the heavy silence. “Keep me posted. I’ll be at Rocky’s Warehouse. Someone found a girl frozen stiff behind their dumpster. She matches the description of Stone’s floozy. Maybe we’ll get a break.”
Or maybe they’ll both show up dead.
That would solve all Lee’s problems.
Chapter Forty-One
Something soft grazed his shoulder, rousing Avery from a nightmarish slumber. Eager to escape the faceless shadows looming over the bloody victims, he focused on the fuzzy sensations. As darkness lifted from his mind, throbbing aches returned with a vengeance.
Asleep or awake, there’s just no reprieve from reality.
He needed more of those pills Hannah had fed him when she bandaged his injury.
As he stared at a sunny yellow ceiling, hazy scenes of their steamy shower flashed in his mind, and he inwardly groaned. Riddled with fever and pain, he’d shamelessly flirted with her.
Bloody fever.
The woman couldn’t remember her son. It’d been insensitive of his part to try to allude to a future together until her past caught up with her.
Bloody hell. Listen to me.
One naked shower had him ready to commit. And they didn’t even have sex. That stabbing had affected his reasoning.
Something brushed his bare shoulder. A smile sneaked past his guard, stirring that bloody longing in his chest again.
Lying on his back, in a strange bed, with a fluffy pillow supporting his injured side, he marveled at the woman sleeping over the comforter in a downy pink robe. The only part of her touching him was her hair. A refreshing blend of vanilla and citrus teased his nose and silky tendrils fired up a delicious overload of sensations through his skin. The bloody fever had also fried his brain.
Hannah stirred in her sleep. As she relaxed again, her hand traveled along the edge of the sheet to his chest. Carefully avoiding her broken finger, he stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. A reddened streak marked her wrist where Cooper’s cuff had rubbed. The officer preyed on innocent victims and abused his power and authority. He was a disgrace worthy of a holding cell.
“Who am I, Avery?”
Startled by the soft-spoken question, he shifted his head sideways and met her gaze.
“Except for Rory, I’d told you everything I know about you.” Her fingers twitched under his touch. Thinking she might withdraw her hand, he trapped it against his heart. “You love that little boy more than anything in the world, Hannah. I was afraid it would break your heart not to be able to remember him. I meant to protect you, not hurt you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “He’s really safe with that Rowan, right?”
“Years ago, I saved Rowan’s life and she saved my soul.” He could easily have fallen in love with Rowan. In a way he did, but her heart had belonged to another man. “I trust her, her husband, and her grandfather implicitly. I’m just worried they will spoil Rory rotten and he will never want to eat peas again.”
“No peas for my son. Got it.” Soft laughter rose between them only to trickle to a sudden stop. “In the shower, when I asked about you and me and Rory, I…I wasn’t really teasing.”
Back then she hadn’t given him a chance to answer. Considering his faculties were altered by the fever, it might have been for the best.
“We did not have an affair and Rory is not my son, but in the last few weeks, I fell in love with his mother and I realized I would love to become his father.”
As the words he’d uttered sank in, he braced himself for her reaction. She stared at him like he’d grown two heads, when in fact he’d lost the only one he had. He was stunned when she smiled.
“Does Hannah know you love her?”
That split personality answer showed no insight into her feelings toward him. “No. Things got complicated.”
She offered a small nod but kept her expression guarded. “Who’s Rory’s father? Is he around?”
“From what I know, you raised Rory alone. You never told anyone about his father, not even Freddy.” He snaked an arm around her body. When she didn’t withdraw, he pulled her closer. “He’s your son, Hannah. That’s all that matters to me.”
Her breathing quickened. “Cooper said the paternity test was…was for Rory. He said I had an affair with Abbott. You wrote that I accused a man of sexual assault but didn’t press charges, that I was…that I was a hooker, and gave birth to my son nine months later. I…I’m not sure I want to be that Hannah.”
Hugging her tight, Avery gently caressed her back. “First, I wouldn’t believe anything that comes out of Cooper’s mouth. Just because Abbott cared about you and Rory didn’t mean he had a secret agenda. Not all men are like Cooper. Second, I didn’t write that letter you found, Sergeant Reed did. He wanted to cast a shadow on your reputation so I wouldn’t take the threats against you seriously. Women who get arrested for prostitution don’t see their cases dismissed for lack of evidence six months later. Something is wrong with that story. And the Hannah I know wouldn’t have fabricated accusations against an innocent man. That much I know for sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if Reed cooked it up.”
She released a long puff of air on his shoulder, then slowly relaxed in his arms. “Not remembering my son makes me feel like a bad mother. Not remembering his father does make me feel like a hooker. I’m not sure which one is worse.”
The comparison wasn’t funny, but it didn’t stop chuckles from bubbling inside his belly. Her ability to take revelations in stride and quickly adapt to new situations was remarkable, though now might not be the best time to mention her late mother’s line of work.
“There is something else you need to know about Rory. Remember when I said he lost his voice after he saw blood in the snow where the killers had ambushed Abbott?”
“Yeahhh…” Her voice faltered. She made a partial fist with her hand.
“Rory was hiding in his tree house with Snowflake.” When an invisible knife stabbed him in the heart, Avery knew he wouldn’t be able to shelter Hannah from that pain. “I believe he witnessed Abbott’s murder.”
“No…” Shaken like an autumn leaf, she buried her head against his shoulder.
The wind howled outside the window. In the midst of the storm, warm tears dribbled down his neck.
***
The wipers swished on the windshield, clearing Victor’s view for seconds at a time before snow obscured it again.
The storm, which showed no sign of abating, was both a blessing and a curse. Within minutes of dumping Roxette’s body behind Rocky’s Warehouse, Mother Nature had wiped out his tire tracks.
A moan rose from the passenger seat and lingered in the recycled heat.
He glanced at his friend. Matt’s face resembled the road facing Vic. White and vacant.
The route blended with the ditches alongside and the sky above it, a broad expanse of untamed wilderness.
A gust of wind kicked the truck in the driver side.
Victor swerved left. The truck slipped. He pressed on the accelerator. Traction control took over. The tires gripped the snow, and the truck veered back on track.
He expulsed a sharp breath.
The land was treacherous, dominated by naked trees shivering in the cold and evergreens swaying their heavy branches in the wind. Ending up in a ditch he couldn’t see wasn’t worth driving an hour to the hospital.
“I’m taking you to Pike. He’ll fix you up.”
No matter the clinic or hospital, the doctors were obligated by law to report gunshot wounds just as they were bound by duty to treat the patients, any patients—even if that patient had decimated the doctor’s family.
Avoiding Pike’s clinic would only raise suspicion, making the Mounties wonder why Vic risked his friend’s life on the road when a capable physician was available in Mooseland.
Gotta love the irony.
Chapter Forty-Two
Avery’s caresses soothed Hannah’s body but they didn’t ease the turmoil in her mind.
The pain and the anger ripping her heart turned into sheer hatred. Murderers had hurt her little boy and shattered his innocence. That was something she would never forgive or forget. They would pay—she would make them pay.
No longer leaking tears, she wiped her eyes.
Loving concern was etched on Avery’s battered face. “When this is over, we will get Rory the help he needs to face his monsters. He will recover, Hannah. I promise.”
As much as she believed and trusted him, it frightened her to realize she was in love with him. What if the other Hannah had harbored different feelings toward Avery? How would she reconcile her past with her present?
He brought her palm to his lips and kissed the tender spot near her wrist before cupping her hand over his cheek. “Talk to me, Hannah.”
His skin was warm. The fever was creeping back. “Sometimes, words are overrated. How do
you
feel?”
“I’m—” Snapping his head sideways, he reached for the night table, only to still his hand inches away from his gun. “Doc?”
“Who?” Her gaze followed Avery’s. She recoiled against the pillow. “Freddy?”
Her brother stood in the doorway of the bedroom with Snowflake in his arms and an enigmatic expression glued to his face.
“Someone donated blood in the bathroom. Snowflake is limping. You and Stone are napping. And I don’t see Rory. Am I missing something?”
In her current, overwhelming state of mind, Freddy’s summary struck her as funny. “Someone stabbed Avery. I’m nursing him back to health.”
Her brother’s eyes widened. He let go of Snowflake. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
With the back of his hand, Avery gently nudged her head in his direction. “For everyone’s protection, the less Freddy knows, the better.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught her brother’s approach. He stopped by the night table. “I don’t care if you keep me in the dark. I just want to know Rory is safe.”
“Relax, Doc. Your nephew is fine, but you need to fix me.” Avery pushed the sheet down to his waist and rolled on his side, presenting his back to Freddy. “Like Hannah said, I was stabbed. She cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding, but I’m running a fever.”
“Hold on. I’ll go get my bag in the Hummer.”
Freddy returned moments later with his bag, but without his winter coat. While he tended to Avery’s injury, she watched their conversation from the opposite side of the bed.