Lethal Legacy: A Novel (Guardians of Justice) (5 page)

“I guess it’s possible they changed their recipe at the coffee shop. They know me there, but I didn’t place the order today. Lauren did. Since I told her everything was safe, she didn’t ask.” A sudden yawn caught her off guard, and she sent him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, and he stood. “You’ve had a tough morning. Why don’t you see if you can get some sleep? I have a few calls to make anyway.”

Her eyelids
were
growing heavy. And a quick nap sounded appealing. But guilt nipped at her conscience. “I feel like I should at least keep you company.”

“You can keep me company later. In the meantime, I’ll be close by if you need anything.” Tossing his empty cup in the trash can, he sent her one more smile before exiting.

And as her eyelids drifted closed, as she hovered in that drifting state between wakefulness and sleep, she found herself wishing his parting comment would be true for far longer than her unexpected hospital stay.

Scanning the central desk area as he exited Kelly’s room, Cole spotted the nurse who’d promised to find the injector and strode toward her.

She saw him coming, and by the time he reached her she had it in hand. “Looking for this?”

“Yeah.” He took it as she handed it over. It had been put back in its plastic storage tube, and he turned it end to end. Through the viewing window he could see that no liquid remained.

“My guess is a leak,” the nurse offered. “A normal firing would leave a small amount of medication inside.”

“Does that happen very often?”

“No. Only if the injector is damaged.”

He examined it, but if there was a crack or other break, it wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

She leaned closer to inspect it too. “It could be that a fine crack produced a slow leak. It might take an X-ray to pick that up.”

The medical examiner’s office owed him a few favors. Depending on what else he discovered, this might be the time to call one in.

“Hang on to this for me, okay? I’d like to take it with me when we leave.”

“Sure thing.”

As she turned to answer a summons from one of the staff doctors, Cole pulled out his cell phone and crossed to the exit, stepping outside where he could get a signal. With the help of directory assistance, he had the owner of the Perfect Blend on the line in sixty seconds.

After introducing himself as a friend of Kelly’s and assuring the concerned man she would be fine, he asked whether any recipes had been altered in the past few days.

“No. And as I told the young woman when she inquired on her first visit, I never allow the use of peanuts or peanut products in my beverages or baked goods. I have a nephew with a peanut allergy, and he’s had to use his injector several times after eating restaurant food he thought was safe. I know how dangerous it can be.”

Cole shoved back one side of his sport jacket and propped a hand on his hip as he mulled over possible scenarios. “Have you switched ingredient suppliers recently?”

“No. We haven’t changed a thing.”

“Okay. Thanks for the information.”

Frustrated, Cole pressed the end button and slid the phone back onto his belt. None of this was making sense.

Too wired to sit, he went back inside and prowled around until he found a small hallway not far from Kelly’s room, where he could pace off some of his restless energy. This whole incident had a decidedly bad flavor. While coincidences happened, it was a stretch to think that on the one day she’d ingested peanuts, her injector had been empty.

What bothered him most, however, was that all of this had happened not long after she stirred up questions about a closed case she claimed was a homicide.

Cole wasn’t a detective because he liked puzzles. He was a detective because he liked
solving
puzzles.

And as he went in search of another cup of coffee, he was already formulating more questions for Kelly.

The slam of a door penetrated Kelly’s sleep-fogged brain, and she opened her eyes. Blinked against the bright light. Stared at the white ceiling.

Where was she?

When she spotted the IV, it all came back. The allergy attack. The clawing panic when she couldn’t breathe. The ride in the ambulance.

Cole Taylor.

She turned her head to find him sitting in the chair he’d occupied earlier.

“Welcome back.” He smiled and saluted her with a disposable cup.

“How long was I out?” Even as she asked the question, she twisted her wrist and peered at her watch.

“A couple of hours.”

Her eyes flew open. “You waited all this time while I slept?”

“I promised I’d stay close. And I always keep my promises.” He held her gaze for a moment before standing to approach the bed. “You look better.”

“I feel fine. Maybe they’ll spring me soon and you can get out of here.” She gave the door a hopeful glance.

“I’m in no hurry.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Feel up to answering a few questions while we wait?”

She looked back at him, conscious of a subtle shift in his manner. His tone was still casual and conversational, his demeanor friendly, but she sensed he’d just slipped into his official persona. The one he used when interviewing witnesses. Or suspects. Or victims.

The one reserved for criminal investigation.

Antennas up, she nodded. “Sure.”

“I’d like to hear your version of what happened at the coffee shop this morning. Can you talk me through it?”

“Okay. But may I ask why?”

He hesitated, as if debating his response. When he spoke, his words were slow and measured. “Let’s just say I’ve been thinking about this while you slept, and I’m coming up with more questions than answers. Especially since the owner of the Perfect Blend assured me they haven’t changed any ingredients. Do you have any other allergies that could have caused the crisis this morning?”

“No.”

“Then the question becomes, how did peanuts get into your system? I’m hoping if you walk me through what happened from the time you arrived until you had the attack, I might spot a red flag.”

Kelly frowned, getting a hint of where he was going with this—and not liking it. “Are you suggesting this wasn’t some kind of freak accident? That there might have been . . . malicious intent?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like the coincidence of exposure to peanuts and an empty injector all on the same day. So humor me, okay?”

A chill swept over her, and she tugged up the thin blanket that was draped over her lower body. “What do you want to know?”

“Start with your arrival, and tell me exactly what happened. Don’t leave out any detail, no matter how inconsequential you think it is.”

She did as he asked, relaying the events of the morning and answering his questions as she went along. When she got to the part about picking up the drinks, however, she paused and bit her lip.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Kelly was glad the two of them were on the same side. This was
not
a man she’d want to meet in an interrogation room. No nuance escaped him.

“One unusual thing did happen, although it didn’t strike me as odd at the time. The shop was very crowded, and when I went to get our drinks, there were several waiting to be picked up. The barista’s scribbling was hard to decipher, and I couldn’t find my mocha. An older man joined me, also looking confused. Turns out he’d picked up my drink by mistake. He apologized and offered to ask them to make me a new one, but I said not to bother.”

The grim set of Cole’s lips told her he didn’t think the man had made a mistake.

“So this guy had your drink in his hands.”

“Yes. But he was an older man, and I could see how he might have gotten confused. There was nothing sinister about the situation.” She bunched the blanket in her fingers. “Are you thinking he put peanuts in my drink?” The whole notion was surreal.

Cole set his coffee on the cabinet, picked up the wall phone, and dialed a number after scrolling through his cell phone. “Can you think of any other explanation for what happened?”

She tried. Failed. “But why would someone do that?”

He held up a finger and asked for the manager of the coffee shop before he responded. “Do you have any enemies?”

“No.”

“But you
have
started to ask questions again about your father’s death. Have you told anyone you’re searching his house?”

“Yes. Lauren and Dad’s neighbors who stopped by while I was at his house. And my pastor.”

Kelly stared at him, trying to digest his implication as he asked the manager about the trash pickup schedule. His disgusted expression told her he wasn’t happy with the answer.

The instant he ended the call, she spoke. “You think someone wants me to stop asking questions badly enough to try and kill me?” The words curdled her stomach.

“I don’t know, but I can’t discount the timing. Unfortunately, we’re not going to get an answer on your drink. The trash was picked up at noon, so short of going through a truck full of garbage, we’re out of luck. And I can’t muster the resources for that kind of search without more to go on.”

Although she was touched he’d even consider such an extreme measure, it seemed like overkill to her. It wasn’t as if she’d turned up any evidence that would convince the police to reopen the case. Nor was she likely to, given the dismal results of her search to date.

Unless . . . Maybe there was evidence buried somewhere in her father’s house that only his killer knew about.

That was a chilling thought.

“Can you describe this guy?”

Cole’s question drew her back to their discussion. “He had gray hair and a bushy mustache, and he wore thick glasses. I think he was on the stocky side, but I can’t be sure because he was wearing a bulky coat. He was stooped, which put him at close to my eye level, and I’m five seven. And he limped.”

“Any guesses on age?”

“Sixtyish, maybe, based on his gray hair and posture.”

“Any distinguishing marks?”

She gave Cole an apologetic look. “I didn’t pay that much attention. We only exchanged a couple of words. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You had no reason to take inventory.”

As he reached for his coffee, the nurse rejoined them. “The doctor says you’re good to go. I’ll unhook you from the IV and run over his instructions. Then you can get dressed and ditch this place.”

Cole moved toward the door. “I’ll wait outside.”

As he retreated, pulling the door shut behind him, the nurse circled around the foot of the bed. “Your chauffeur?”

“Yes.”

“Lucky you.” The woman grinned. “With my luck, I’d end up with Barney Fife instead of a hot detective.”

The nurse removed the IV, and Kelly pressed on the cotton ball covering the prick point, as instructed. She
did
feel lucky to have Cole Taylor as an escort. Yet the questions he’d planted in her mind were unnerving.

Had
today’s incident been an attempt on her life rather than an accident?

If so, who wanted her dead?

And most troubling of all—would he try again?

Following Kelly, Cole pulled into her driveway and set his brake. She’d insisted on picking up her car at the coffee shop, even though he’d told her he’d be happy to drive her back tonight, after she’d had a few more hours to recover. But maybe this was better. If he came back later, he’d have to cancel his dinner plans with Mitch and Alison. And his sister would be all over him, wanting details he wasn’t inclined to offer.

By the time Kelly braked to a stop in her small attached garage, disengaged her seat belt, collected her purse, and turned off her engine, he was beside her door. She smiled up at him as he pulled it open.

“I’m not used to this kind of service.”

You should be.

He kept that response to himself as she slid out of the car. But he couldn’t imagine why an attractive, intelligent woman like Kelly was unattached.

Unless there
was
a boyfriend lurking around somewhere.

“Don’t tell me your dates have bad manners.” He kept his tone casual as he fished for information.

“Most guys these days seem to think women would rather fend for themselves.” She slid from the car and shuffled through her key ring. “But I, for one, appreciate those kinds of courtesies. Thank you.”

That didn’t answer his question. He tried again, taking a more direct approach.

“You’re welcome. And if you’re involved in a serious relationship, I hope he doesn’t let you down in that regard.”

She fitted the key in the door that led from the garage to the house and turned toward him. The day had grown gray, and the garage was dim, but he detected an appealing wistfulness in her expression. “I’m not involved with anyone. But if I ever am, it will be with a man who’s considerate.” She fixed those green eyes on him, and her gaze didn’t waver. “Like you.”

Whoa!

And
he’d
been worried about being too direct.

Blindsided, Cole took a moment to regroup. He was used to flirty come-ons. For whatever reason, a lot of women seemed to find law enforcement types appealing. But Kelly’s quiet sincerity put her comment in a whole different league, touching him in a way nothing—or no one—had in a long, long time.

Not since Sara.

At the memory of the gentle-spirited, dark-haired beauty, his stomach coiled into a tight, painful knot.

In the lengthening silence, soft color rose on Kelly’s cheeks. She turned toward the door, her fingers fumbling with the key in the lock, clearly embarrassed by his lack of response to her candor.

Way to go, Taylor. This is earning you a lot of points.

Pushing memories of Sara aside, Cole touched her shoulder. Her hand stilled and she stiffened. “Hey. I appreciate that thought. A lot.”

At his husky comment, she stole a glance at him over her shoulder, her eyes uncertain. “You didn’t look like it.”

He debated how much to reveal. He’d never told anyone about Sara. Not even his family. Yet he was tempted to share the story with Kelly.

But this wasn’t the time. Not after all she’d been through today.

“My reaction had nothing to do with you. Your comment just reminded me of an unpleasant episode in my past. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it.” Without giving her a chance to process that pseudo-promise, he gestured toward the door. “Do you mind if I take a quick walk-through before I leave?”

She gripped the doorknob, and some of the color drained from her cheeks. “You think there’s danger in my own house?”

“I didn’t say that. But in light of what happened this morning, I’d prefer to err on the side of caution.”

Without saying a word, she turned the key in the lock, pushed open the door, and stepped in.

He followed. Noted the absence of a keypad beside the door. Frowned. “You don’t have a security system?”

“No. I’ve never needed one.”

Everyone
needed one. If people saw half the stuff he did, they’d know that.

“Okay. Give me five minutes. Anywhere you’d prefer me not to look?”

“No. But ignore any clutter you find. I didn’t expect to have visitors today.” She tried for a smile but couldn’t pull it off.

Cole did a quick but thorough sweep of the neat-as-a-pin house. Everything was secure, but he didn’t like her door locks; they were simple keyed knobs, easy to open with a bump key or pick gun. No dead bolts. No sliding bolts, except on the front door—where one was least needed. The basement windows were bottom-hinged hoppers with laughable security, and there were no stops on the main level window frames.

She needed to beef up her security, and he told her that when he rejoined her in the kitchen and found her pulling off her hiking boots.

Distress tightened her features, and she massaged the bridge of her nose. “I’ve always felt safe here.”

He hated to be the one to put fear in her heart, but fearful people were cautious. And he’d much rather have her afraid and on alert than oblivious and vulnerable. There were too many unanswered questions that bothered him. Including the one he’d thought of as he’d followed her home from the coffee shop.

“Safety is an illusion without first-rate security. Even if today hadn’t happened, I’d recommend some basic enhancements. But today did happen. And I do have one other question for you. When you took the injector out, was there any moisture inside the carrying case?”

She gave him a blank look. “I have no idea. Lauren opened it for me. Why?”

“If the medication leaked, wouldn’t it have been in the case?”

Twin creases appeared on her brow. “Yes. It should have been, but I doubt Lauren will be able to verify that it was. She was really freaked.”

“Would you mind asking anyway?”

“No. I’ll call her this weekend.”

“Okay. Meanwhile, is it okay if I hang on to the injector?”

“Sure. It’s of no use to me anymore. But why do you want to keep it?”

“I never get rid of evidence while I’m in the fact-gathering stage.” He softened the comment with a smile. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?”