Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (44 page)

The door opened, admitting a young physician. The first thought that crossed Melanie's mind was that he appeared too cold to be a doctor. She immediately shoved the thought away. Who was she to judge whether the man was qualified to be a doctor? Still, his level stare made her shiver.

“Where is Dr. Jensen?” Melanie demanded.

“Dr. Jensen is out today. I am Dr. Ramirez.” He smiled, a clinical smile without warmth. She was suddenly reminded of the way her father smiled. Charming on the outside, pure venom within.

Jace shook the doctor's hand. Mel thrust aside her dislike and listened as he explained her aunt's condition. Or tried to listen. It all sounded like gibberish to Melanie. She had reached the point where she could not process what he telling her.

Jace threw her a concerned glance.

“Melanie?”

“I'm sorry. I just don't get it. Yesterday I was told she would be able to come home today.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “Yes, that was correct. But there an accident. The charts were switched around. Your aunt was given the wrong IV.”

“The wrong IV? How does that happen?” Melanie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

“We are investigating the matter, Miss Swanson. Rest assured that we will get this sorted out.”

“What was she given?”

“She was given medication to lower her glucose levels. It sent her levels too low, and caused her to go into a diabetic coma.”

Snorting, she glared at the doctor. “Can you tell me for certain that my aunt will recover?”

Silence. The doctor met her eyes with his. Again, she shivered at the emptiness there. As if her aunt were just a chart instead of a living, breathing human being in need.

“Who had access to the charts?” Jace snapped.

“What? Well, I don't know...”

“Find out. And keep this information as private as possible. This is now a crime scene.”

At these words, the doctor's mouth tightened. Melanie clenched and unclenched her fists in an effort to regain control of her emotions. The fact that Jace felt her aunt had been deliberately targeted came as no surprise. Indeed, she had suspected foul play the minute Jace had told her about the coma. It had to have been the same person who had tampered with her hot chocolate before. They needed to talk with the other jurors and find out what was going on—why the people connected to her and to her trial were being targeted.

“I need to locate the other eleven jurors,” Jace stated, echoing her thoughts.

“Can I...” she began.

He was already shaking his head. “No. One is already dead. I can't expose you to that kind of danger.”

She sighed. She hadn't really expected him to take her along, but she dreaded being apart from him. Only when he was near did she feel safe. It was strange, since he had once been her biggest enemy. But she knew in her soul that he would do anything to protect her, no matter how he felt about her personally.

Two hours later, when she left the hospital, she had even more cause to regret his absence. The Lieutenant assigned to guard her was none other than Dan Willis. She remembered his sneering remarks outside Alayna Brown's apartment. The look of disgust he gave her before leading her to his cruiser chilled her to the bone. He almost vibrated with anger and resentment as he drove her home.

She stared out the window silently.
It will be over soon
, she told herself. Another ten minutes and she would be home. She could lock herself in her house until Jace relieved Lieutenant Willis. She just had to hold on until then.

Intense relief filled her as they pulled into the driveway. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, her hand was on the door handle, ready to open it. Locked. Of course. He had to unlock it. The seconds crawled by. He didn't unlock her door. She turned to face him.

“Please unlock my door.” She kept her voice steady with supreme effort.

He leisurely reached back and hit the button with a smirk. As soon as she heard the
click
, she turned and opened her door. He let her leave the vehicle without a word, but she imagined that she could feel his cold stare as she ran up the steps and unlocked the front door. Her hands shook so much that it took her three tries before she managed to get it open. She knew Lieutenant Willis was watching her when his harsh laughter reached her ears.

Blindly, she bolted the doors and closed the blinds as tightly as possible. Two minutes later, disbelief made her open the door again. He was leaving! Shocked, she watched as Lieutenant Willis sketched her a mocking wave, then drove away. Dazed, she closed the door again. Her stomach was so queasy, she thought she might vomit.

Running into the bathroom, she bent over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. Reaching back for a towel, she dried off.

A movement to her left startled her. She screamed as the bathroom door was slammed shut. She could hear something thudding against the door. Rushing to the door, she tried to open it. It was stuck! Whoever had slammed it must have put something against it. It wouldn't budge. Backing up, she slid down the wall and covered her face with her hands. Certain she was going to die, she prayed for strength and courage.

SIX

J
ace frowned as he shut his car door, looking at the otherwise empty driveway. Dan had been instructed to wait until he was relieved. Maybe Sarah had taken a turn for the worse and he had driven Melanie back to the hospital? A quick call to the hospital eliminated that possibility. Sarah's status had not changed, nor had her niece come back. Jace slowly climbed the steps. His blood froze. The front door was open two inches. He knew how meticulously Melanie locked her doors. He raced inside, shouting her name.

As soon as he entered the house, he smelled it. Smoke. He could see tendrils of black smoke creeping and curling their way out of the kitchen. Without pausing, he used the radio on his shoulder to alert the EMS operator to dispatch the appropriate fire department and the paramedics. He cautiously peered into the kitchen. The stove was engulfed in flames, but Melanie was nowhere in sight. Grabbing the fire extinguisher off the wall, he yanked out the pin and doused the fire. Outside, the siren at the local volunteer fire department rent the air. Fortunately, the blaze hadn't gotten too out of control. Had he been another two or three minutes—he shuddered. He looked at the mess on the stove and frowned. A pot of water was on the burner. A small aluminum can was tipped over, oozing grease. He knew many older people kept their grease to reuse. Horrible practice.

Where was Melanie?

Knowing it could take up to fifteen minutes for help to arrive, he started to hunt for Melanie. Room by room, he searched the house. When he ran into Melanie's bedroom, he found her bathroom barricaded by a two-by-four jammed between the door and the desk.

“Melanie!” No answer. He shoved the heavy wooden piece out of the way and opened the door. Inside, Melanie was curled up in a fetal position next to the bathtub. Her eyes were open, but she was icy to the touch. Her breath wheezed in and out. Her jeans pockets were empty. Where was her inhaler? He ran back to the bedroom. Her purse was sitting on the dresser. Ignoring everything his mother had taught him about a lady's purse being private, he foraged inside until he found her medication.

“Come on, Melanie,” he urged, holding the inhaler to her lips. “Inhale.” He pressed the canister down as she gasped and inhaled. A minute later, he repeated the procedure, noting with relief that the wheezing had passed.

“Okay, Melanie, let's get you outta here.” He picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom. She laid her head on his shoulder.

One thing was clear. This was no accident—though it was certainly set up to
look
like one. Whoever had started the fire had obviously figured the wooden beam blocking the bathroom door would be burned up in the fire. Fury boiled in the pit of his stomach. His body shook from the force of his anger. The only thing that kept him from giving in to his anger was Melanie. Feeling her shivering in his arms, he clamped down on the urge to bolt out the door and hunt down the monster who had committed this heinous act. Instead, he tightened his grip on her.

A defeated sigh caught his attention. Melanie's head was still against his shoulder. He shifted her weight so he could look at her face. An ache filled him as he saw that she was staring blankly ahead, her normally bright eyes dull.

He set her on her feet briefly at the foot of the bed. He grabbed the warm quilt covering it and wrapped it around her slender form, then hefted her gently into his arms again. His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he carried his burden to the living room and placed her carefully on the couch. He opened the windows to allow the smell of smoke to dissipate.

When the fire department arrived, he left her briefly to direct them to the kitchen. He pulled the chief aside. “This is a crime scene. You need to treat this like an arson attempt.”

He returned to Melanie and found her in the same position as when he'd left her. Other than that sigh, she had not uttered a sound since he found her. He touched her face. Her skin was clammy. A new fear blossomed. Shock. He knew the symptoms well. What he needed to do now was keep her warm.

“Okay, Melanie,” he said softly, keeping his voice calm. “Let's just lie you down here. I need to put some pillows under your feet, get your legs raised.” He reached out and snagged the throw pillows off the back of the couch and expertly placed them so that her legs were raised. He kept up a flow of reassuring conversation. “The paramedics are on the way. We need to keep you warm until they arrive.”

Melanie made no response. Jace located another blanket and covered her with it. Within moments, Jace had a roaring blaze in the fireplace. The flames cast a cozy glow about the room, but Jace was too focused on Melanie to pay any attention. He paced back and forth in front of the couch, stopping every now and then to check her pulse and make sure she was warming up. He noted with relief that her color was returning.

Ten minutes later, a loud knock shattered the stillness like a gunshot. Melanie cried out in fear. Jace rushed over and knelt beside her.

“Shhh. I called the paramedics and the police. I won't let anything hurt you. You have my word on that, Melanie.” He stared into her eyes until she appeared to relax. When she settled back against the cushions, he stood and crossed the room. He opened the door to find the chief and Dan Willis standing on the porch. While he was relieved that his chief had arrived, the presence of the second made him scowl. He couldn't help but feel that Lieutenant Willis's dereliction of duty was part of the cause of Melanie's current situation. After all, had he remained at his post as ordered, the perp would not have been able to enter the building and carry out his vicious attack. Jace shuddered to think what might have happened. He carefully wiped all emotion from his face.

“Chief. Willis.”

“Jace.” Chief Kennedy returned his greeting with brows raised. “How is Miss Swanson? Your call seemed quite urgent.”

Dan snorted. Jace swung a fierce glare in his direction.

“You have something to say, Lieutenant?” Jace ground out the title. It burned him that a lawman could behave so irresponsibly.

Dan lifted his chin, defiance glinting in his eyes.

“Nope.”

Jace laughed harshly. “I, on the other hand, have plenty to say. Mostly about you not performing your duty.”

“Explain yourself, Jace,” Paul demanded. Dan's face whitened, although he remained defiant.

Not removing his hard gaze from Dan, Jace responded. “Lieutenant Willis was instructed to remain on guard duty until another officer relieved him. Instead, I arrived to find that he had abandoned his post and someone had started a fire in the kitchen. Miss Swanson was barricaded in her bathroom, ice-cold and going into shock.” He smiled, a hard smile completely without humor.

Dan sneered. “I called Sergeant Thompson before going. He said he would cover for me.”

“I see.” Paul narrowed his eyes at the defiant officer. “And what was so important that it couldn't even wait until the other officer arrived?”

Flushing, Dan darted nervous eyes between his colleagues. “I had some personal business, sir.”

“You left your charge because you had personal business, Lieutenant? Am I hearing you correctly? Because if harm had come to Miss Swanson, it would have been on your head.”

Dan entered the room and settled his furious glare on the slender girl on the couch. Satisfaction flitted across his face when she noticed him and gasped in fright.

“I don't want him here!” Melanie's fierce whisper brought a frown to both Jace's and Paul's faces.

Paul walked closer to the couch, hands out front as though he was approaching a wounded animal. His gaze never left her wary face. Jace felt himself tense as he watched the interaction. He could practically feel Melanie's fear from where he stood.

Her wide brown eyes sought out Jace. He felt ridiculously pleased that she instinctively turned to him for reassurance. He nodded to her. She turned back to the chief.

“Ma'am,” the chief continued, his voice as soothing as a summer breeze, “has Lieutenant Willis acted inappropriately? Besides abandoning you, of course.”

Jace couldn't stop a snide grin from sliding across his face at Paul's comments. Apparently the chief wasn't any more impressed with the man than he was. His smile widened as Dan's face reddened like a ripe tomato.

Melanie hesitated. The men held their breath. Finally she shrugged. “Just a remark or two.”

Paul nodded.

“Go wait in the car, Dan.”

“What? Are you really going to let that little—” Dan's enraged voice echoed off the walls. His fists were clenched and he took another step toward Melanie. She cringed.

“Lieutenant Willis, out!” Paul bellowed.

Jace watched as Dan stormed out, colliding into the paramedics who were just entering the house.

His angry voice could be heard as he stalked to the cruiser and got in, slamming the door.

For a few seconds, those inside the house stood in awkward silence. Then the paramedic team moved to their patient on the couch. Paul left to confer with the fire chief. Jace cast a quick glance at Melanie to be sure she was all right. Her eyes were closed and she was pale, but the paramedics seemed to have everything under control as they checked her vitals. Satisfied, he went after Paul.

He found the chief starring at the stove in disbelief. Years of practice allowed him to focus on the matter at hand, even when memories of finding Melanie, cold and unresponsive, threatened to intrude. He had been wrong to think that the attacker was just toying with her. It was clear now that whoever was behind all of this wanted her dead. But why? And how was it connected to the death of Alayna Brown? It seemed that there was more to Melanie's trial and conviction than met the eye. Doubt about her culpability in the death of the young woman four years before was growing stronger. If he wanted to find the truth, though, he needed to be the best cop he was capable of being.

“The fire chief said this looked like an ordinary kitchen fire. He sees this all the time. People never seem to realize how dangerous it could be to leave grease on the stove,” Paul mused.

“If I hadn't come here, it would have looked like an accident,” Jace affirmed. “But, Paul, I was here for breakfast just this morning. Sarah Swanson didn't have a can of grease on the stove. I'm sure of it.”

“Then this was staged.”

Jace nodded. “That's my take on it.”

“Are you thinking that Dan had anything to do with this?” Paul asked. He held up his hand before Jace could answer. “Leave your emotions out of this, Jace. I don't want to disrupt the department any more than necessary.”

Jace considered the facts. The man was rude and incompetent, but a criminal? He just couldn't see it. Slowly, he shook his head. “I don't know, Paul. I think he is prejudiced. He might even have a bit of a mean streak in him. I don't have enough evidence yet, though, to accuse him of anything more than neglecting his duty. And—” his voice hardened “—endangering the life of a civilian.”

“I agree. I am hesitant to relieve him from duty. There's too little information for that. He will receive a formal reprimand. Let's keep an eye on him.” Paul narrowed his eyes and looked at the ruined stove and the scorched cupboards above it. “Something is bugging me, but I can't quite put my finger on it.”

Jace nodded. He had the same feeling. “There's something else,” Jace stated. “Remember how I was searching for that car that nearly ran Melanie over at the hospital? I don't think that was a reckless kid anymore. I think Melanie was deliberately targeted. Someone wants her dead.”

* * *

Melanie gritted her teeth as the paramedics checked her blood pressure. Of all the rotten luck! Could this day get any worse? Now Seth was here smirking as he removed the blood pressure cuff from her arm. When he reached for her wrist to check her pulse, she barely kept herself from pulling her arm from his grasp. Judging from the glance he threw her, he knew she hated having him touch her. And her reaction amused him.

“You're fine, Melanie. Get some food. Keep warm.”

“Good. You can go now.”

Seth clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Is that any way to treat an old friend, honey?”

Melanie grimaced. The other paramedic was trying not to gawk at them, but she was failing pathetically. When Mel gave a gusty sigh, the paramedic smiled and winked at her. Surprised, Mel smiled back. It was a relief to meet someone who didn't hate her on sight.

Brisk footsteps alerted her to Jace's return. It was embarrassing how aware of him she was. She thought she would probably recognize his confident stride anywhere. Not to mention the appealing scent of his woodsy aftershave as he came to stand next to her. She was confused by how his presence both calmed and unsettled her. She was a bundle of contradictions.

“How's the patient?” His soft voice was a warm blanket around her sore heart.

Seth smirked. “She's gonna be just fine, aren't you, honey?”

No, no, no. This was so not happening now. She nearly groaned out loud at the look of disbelief on Jace's face before he schooled his features into his “cop face.”

“I told you not to call me that,” she barked at Seth. When his smirk widened, she decided that ignoring him was her best choice. “We grew up together.”

Please, please let him leave it at that. Of course, she doubted Seth would be able to do that. He was too fond of stirring up trouble. She suspected that that was why he'd dated her in the first place—because his father disapproved. At the time, though, she'd been foolish enough to believe they were in love.

Seth laughed. It was an ugly little sound. Really, how could she have once thought it was attractive?

“We not only grew up together—until four years ago, we were engaged.”

Mortification filled her at the shock on Jace's face. This time, she did groan. Immediately both men turned their attention back to her. Seth's snarky attitude faded as he did his job. As much as she couldn't stand the man anymore, he was an outstanding paramedic.