Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (27 page)

Eddie shoved him away. “You got a funny way of showing it. And if you cared so much, why'd it take you seven years to come back? Huh?”

“Because you're not the only one Dad's choices hurt. Mom needed me. And I didn't trust myself not to rip him to pieces if I saw him again. The only reason he sweet-talked you into staying was to spite her, and you were too thick-headed to see it.”

The tears that sprang to Eddie's eyes hit Cole square in the gut. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.”

“Yes, you did.” Eddie stalked out of the woods.

Eddie had always been desperate for Dad's attention, because Dad had always favored Cole. Was it any wonder that Eddie had clung to the chance to be on the receiving end of the attention he'd always craved, no matter how dysfunctional Dad's motives? Clearly the attention hadn't lasted long.

Or were the drugs a desperate attempt to get it back?

Cole trailed Eddie out of the woods, kicking himself for blowing it so badly. It was almost a relief when Eddie started walking down the road instead of heading to Cole's truck. They both needed time to cool down.

The ambulance had left. Only Zeke and the wall-climbing guy were still at the scene. The guy shook Zeke's hand, then climbed in the orange car. At the sound of the engine roaring to life, Eddie turned and stuck out his thumb. The guy pulled up beside him, and Eddie climbed in.

Cole hovered on the opposite side of the road, his brother's phone heavy in his pocket. “So who was that guy?”

“Ted Holmes. He said he was driving by and saw the paramedics in trouble, so stopped to help.” Zeke squinted from the disappearing car to Cole. “What happened with your brother?”

“We had a disagreement.” Reaching for Eddie's phone, Cole crossed the road to hand it over to Zeke. Whatever evidence they could get off the phone might be the key to finding out who was terrorizing Sherri. No matter what Eddie thought about his loyalties, he owed Sherri that much.

SIX

B
lood seeped through Sherri's fingers as she frantically piled more bandages on the wound, more and more bandages. But the bleeding wouldn't stop. The pop, pop, pop of gunfire wouldn't stop. The dog lunging at her wouldn't—

“Shh, it's okay. You're safe now,” a tender voice whispered through the ones in her head. A warm hand squeezed her arm, compelled it to still.

She relaxed. Slowly turned her palm up. Her skin tingled at the rasp of fingers traveling down the tender inside of her arm, then closing possessively around hers.

Her heart jolted. Where was she? She clawed out of her dream's residual emotions and opened her eyes.

Cole smiled down at her—an uncertain smile that didn't touch his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Bad dream?”

She blinked, reached up to scrub her eyes, certain she must still be dreaming. But the burning tug of her shoulder stitches grounded her firmly in reality. She discreetly pulled her sheets higher. Where was the nurse? She should've been back by now with the antibiotic shot so Sherri could get out of here.

Bad dreams she could handle. Cole she couldn't. Not here. Not now. Not when he looked at her as if she were as fragile as spun glass.

“Who's Luke?” he asked softly.

“What?” How did he know about—?

Heat climbed to her cheeks.
The nightmare.
She looked down the long room of curtained beds, anywhere but at Cole. The ER buzzed with its usual flurry of activity—the clatter of instruments, the beep of monitors, the hum of voices—sounds that usually eased her tension when bringing in a patient. Today the noise left her nerves frayed.

Where was Dan? Hadn't he said he'd only be a few minutes when he left to find her a shirt to wear home?

Cole had changed out of his bloodstained T-shirt into the kind of soft flannel shirt she used to imagine snuggling against on a cool evening. She still could feel how securely he'd held her earlier. So close she could hear his heart pound beneath her ear. He hadn't seemed to want to let her go, either, despite her accusation the night before last that he was enabling Eddie instead of helping him. Worse than that, she hadn't wanted him to let her go.

Oh, this was so not good. Ignoring his question about Luke, she strained for a light tone. “Don't tell me my partner wrangled you into driving me home?”

“No, but I'd be happy to.” He grinned as though he meant it.

Her fingers tightened around the bedsheets. “Thanks, but that's okay.” Cole might not be wearing his uniform, but she could see the questions in his eyes. And could imagine what he might've overheard her babbling in her sleep. “Dan'll be here any minute.” She couldn't believe she'd actually dozed off. “Um...” She squinted up at him. “Why are you here?”

His eyebrow arched as if he thought she was as addled as she felt with the painkillers fogging her brain. “I'm trying to figure out who sicced that dog on you. Did you recognize the dog? Was it Luke's?”

“No! Why would you think that?”

His head tilted, his scrutiny intensifying. “You were wrestling the dog in your sleep and muttered the name Luke more than once.”

The blood drained from her face, and a numbing chill iced her veins. “It was just a dream.” Except...the memory of Luke's father confronting her after the interment flared in her mind. Luke's devoted dog had been there, too. She squinted, trying to picture what breed it had been, but could only recall how pitifully it had whined as the casket had been lowered into the ground.

“Are you sure?” Cole grilled, yanking the privacy curtain farther around the bed.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Because I pulled the dog license records for Stalwart and the surrounding county. A Luke Atkins was the first name on the list, and he owns a Rottweiler.”

Yes, his dog had been a Rottweiler. She remembered now. The poor thing had refused to budge from its place next to Luke's open grave, and she'd knelt down to stroke its head.

Luke's father had gone berserk, yanked her away, told her she'd had some nerve showing up at his boy's funeral. He'd told her Luke would still be alive if she'd done her job.

Steeling herself against the crushing weight of
that
reminder, she buzzed the nurse. If they'd get here with the antibiotic shot already, she could go.

Cole's fingers skimmed her jaw, gently turning her face to his. “What's wrong? Can I help?”

“I was just wondering what the holdup was on my needle.” Sherri avoided his gaze. All this time she'd been so sure it had been her crew driving her to quit she hadn't even thought of Luke's father.

Cole's hand fell away from her face. “Sherri, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. Who's Luke?”

The image of Luke's blood seeping through her fingers seared her mind. She sucked in deep breaths, her hands pressing into her chest as if pushing harder would stop the bleeding.
Oh, God, please don't let me fall apart here. Please.
She buried her hands under her armpits and willed her emotions into submission.

“Who? Is? Luke?” Cole demanded. “Do you think he's behind these attacks?”

She choked on the lunacy of the notion. “No, of course not.”

Cole's gaze darkened. “How do you know?”

Fighting back tears, she clasped her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

“How do you know?” he repeated more insistently.

“Because he's dead.” Dan stepped around the curtain and shot Cole a look so heated it would have melted steel.

A guttural moan escaped Cole's throat, his hold slackening. “I'm sorry.”

Her heart stuttered at the empathy in his tone, at his stricken look. “He was my partner,” she whispered. “He died five months ago.”

Before Cole could plug her for details, Dan, bless his heart, thrust a small bouquet into her hands. “From the guys.”

The bundle of mums, freesias and carnations was the kind that sat in water buckets at the grocery checkout—colorful but already a little droopy.

“Thank them for me.” Sherri blinked back tears, knowing she shouldn't be touched. It was standard policy to chip in for something whenever anyone on the team got injured. Except maybe she'd misjudged them. Maybe Luke's father had been behind everything. If anyone hated her enough to hurt her, it would be him. Or maybe no one was and she was just being paranoid.

No, not paranoid. Just because some stupid online test said she had post-traumatic stress disorder didn't make it so. Dan was the one who'd insisted Cole investigate, not her. Sure, she'd been a little jumpy since Luke's death, and yeah, she'd had nightmares. Who wouldn't?

But she was
not
paranoid.

“You got a lead on who did this?” Dan snapped at Cole, his eyes narrowing. “Besides your brother.”

“Not yet.” The twitch in Cole's cheek betrayed the sting of Dan's accusation. Or maybe he was thinking of her initial suspicions that put Dan and his buddies at the top of the suspect list. Cole unfolded a piece of paper and held it in front of her. “These are the names of every licensed Rottweiler owner in the county. Do you recognize any of the names besides Luke's?”

Dan snorted. “Do you really think a guy who'd sic a ferocious dog on someone is going to bother buying a dog license?”

“At this point this is all we have to go on. No one in the vicinity recalled seeing a vehicle parked on the other side of the woods or anyone out walking a Rottweiler.”

Sherri set the flowers on her lap and took the paper from him. “What are the Xs beside the names for?”

“Those are dogs that have been microchipped. The dog we captured hasn't been. So we eliminated those owners as likely suspects, although we will pay each and every one a visit, as they may own more than one dog despite only paying to license one.”

As she scanned the list, her heart grew heavier. “I don't recognize any of the names.”

“What about the addresses?”

Confused, she squinted up at him. “How does that help?”

Dan caught a corner of the paper and tilted it his way. “Could be someone we treated...only not to their satisfaction.”

“Reinhart?” Sherri gasped, scanning the list for his apartment address, except he never had a dog.

“He's not on the list,” Cole said, clearly having formulated the same theory as Dan. “I also cross-referenced his son's address. No match.”

Dan studied the list with an intensity that surprised her.

“Do you recognize any of the names or addresses? We could compare them to our call records.”

“No, I don't.” Dan shook his head, but continued to study the list.

Sherri curled and uncurled the edge of her blanket, feeling antsier by the second. “Maybe this nut job just has it in for paramedics in general. He had no way of knowing whether we or the other team would respond to the call. Or that the dog would target me rather than Dan, for that matter.” That realization minutely eased the knot in her stomach.

“It's possible,” Cole said, not sounding as if he thought so. He reclaimed the list and pulled out a notepad and pen. “I need you to tell me anything that might offer us a clue to this guy's identity or motive.” Cole's gaze took in both her and Dan. “No matter how unlikely it seems.”

She edged toward the head of the bed. There was no way she'd add insult to injury by speculating that Luke's father might be out for revenge. She'd hurt the man enough. If, once she got out of here, she found evidence he might be the culprit, then she'd tell Cole. Or better yet, her sheriff-deputy-cousin Sam, if he ever got back from his honeymoon.

Dan's lips pressed flat. “I didn't like how the situation looked the second we pulled up. The lawn hadn't been mowed in weeks. Flyers were bleeding out of the mailbox.”

“It was supposed to be a heart attack victim. Guys with heart trouble don't prioritize lawn care,” Sherri argued. “But there wasn't supposed to be a dog. Dispatch always asks. The caller said no dog.”

“The call was bogus!” Dan bounced his fingers off his forehead as if she were dense. “I'm telling you that somebody's targeting you. And he needs to be stopped before it's too late. That dog almost killed you today.”

“You don't think I know that?” she roared back, not sure why she was arguing. “But the 9-1-1 caller couldn't know I'd respond to the call.”

“He does if he's monitoring the radio and knows one ambulance is already out,” Dan said, low and ominous, as if he wanted her more freaked than she already was.

“The question is why?” Cole cut in.

“How in blazes are we supposed to know that?” Dan wound his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should be asking that brother of yours.”

Feeling Cole's wince, Sherri said, “Cut him some slack.” Dan knew Eddie had been with Cole when the call came in, but he was apparently still bent on goading him. Or...was he goading Cole to shift suspicions from him and his buddies?

After all, he'd been the one who'd told her to look the dog in the eye and to hold out her hands to it, and...and...the dog had totally ignored him, even with all his “yahs” and wild gesticulating.

Listen to me. I really am paranoid.

“Cut him slack?” Dan's voice pitched so high the ER momentarily went quiet. Fisting his hands, he repeated in a hiss, “That. Dog. Almost. Killed. You.” He turned back to Cole. “There's no good reason why anyone would hurt her. She's a nice person and a fine paramedic.”

Sherri practically choked over the surprising claim. If only it were true, Luke's father wouldn't have had to bury his only son.

Cole nodded as if he couldn't agree more. “Do you know Ted?”

“Ted?” she and Dan asked at the same time.

“The guy who climbed the wall.”

“Oh.” Dan's posture relaxed, his arms dropping to his sides. “He told me he was driving by and heard her scream and stopped to help. I've never seen him before. The guy had guts, that's for sure.” Dan snorted. “Or no brains. I've never seen anyone climb a wall like that. If he hadn't come along, I don't know what...” Dan's voice petered out as if the thought of her being critically hurt had swiped his breath.

Cole's fingers brushed over her blanket-covered leg, the intensity in his gaze suggesting he felt the same as Dan.

Her heart hiccupped.

“Is there someplace you can stay for a few days?” Cole held her gaze. “Until we catch this guy, I'd rest easier if you weren't staying on your own.”

“She'll stay with us, of course.” Mom swept aside the curtain tugged around the bed and she, Dad and her favorite cousin, Jake, still wearing his firefighter's uniform, poured into the tiny space. “How's our girl?”

“Who told you I was here?”

“Jake,” Mom said with a hint of censure as she fussed with the blankets. “Why didn't you call us?”

Cole edged toward a break in the curtain panels, looking at her parents and Jake as if they were a firing squad.

The smidgen of relief she felt that he seemed as eager to avoid being recognized, as she was for Mom
not
to remember the huge crush her little girl had had on him, evaporated the instant Jake slapped Cole's shoulder and held on in a friendly grip. “Cole? Hey, good to see you. I didn't know you were back in town.”

“He's our newest deputy sheriff,” Sherri rushed to explain before Jake got the wrong idea about what Cole was doing at her bedside.

A big mistake. Mom and Dad had been peppering her with questions about what happened and why she never called. But the moment their attention swiveled to Cole, she could tell by Mom's elated smile that she thought she was looking at the answer. As for Dad...

Well, he didn't look too happy.

* * *

Seven-thirty Monday morning Cole drove to Sherri's parents' home to update her on the investigation. He wished he had better news. The streets were already humming with dog walkers, residents collecting their morning papers and young parents loading up kids to drop at daycare before their morning commute. He hoped the Steele household would be up, too, with a pot of coffee brewing.