Isaac had been visited by a physician and was sporting twenty-three stitches by the time his boss, Captain Gavin McCord, arrived at the hospital and began berating him.
“You broke at least two rules tonight. You should have cleared that area the instant your dog alerted and waited for an ambulance instead of hitching a ride,” McCord said with a scowl. “Care to tell me what happened?”
“I did clear it. The problem wasn’t because of me or Abby.” Isaac had been enjoying the pretty nurse’s company as she’d begun to bandage his calf and he smiled in her direction.
McCord eyed her, too. “Could you finish that later? I’d like to talk to my team member privately.”
“Of course.” She stripped off her latex gloves.
In spite of her quick, compliant reply, Isaac could tell she was hesitant to leave him. Why? They hardly knew each other.
Given no personal background on her he was in the dark, but if he’d had to guess he’d have concluded that she was either normally high-strung or suffering from serious guilt. He hoped it was not the latter.
Isaac and his captain watched her edge away, then disappear through a gap in the curtains surrounding the exam area. Their eyes met.
“Was she that uptight when you got here, or have you done something to upset her?” Gavin asked.
“Hey, don’t look at me.” Isaac raised both hands. “If anything, she’s acting a little better than she did at first. Her jitters were so noticeable when I walked in, I asked her if she was new on the job.”
“And?”
“And, she said she wasn’t.”
“Curious. You’d think an experienced trauma nurse would have steadier nerves.” His brow knit. “I think I’ll run a background check on her, just in case.”
“She can’t have been responsible for the incident tonight. She was working here, right on schedule, when it went down.”
“That doesn’t mean some of her friends weren’t involved.” McCord studied Isaac’s leg. “You sure you guided Abby to every bench?”
“Yeah. The area was clean when we’d finished our sweep. She didn’t alert until after the press conference had started.”
“Okay. We’ll concentrate on looking for newcomers to the scene when we get a chance to review the videos. Want me to hang around to give you a lift home?”
Isaac shook his head. “You don’t have to bother. Culpeper’s not that far. I can call my brother or sister to come get me.”
“And miss my big chance to grill you all the way to your place? No way. I want to hear every detail.”
“Do you have any info on the device yet?” Isaac asked.
“Other than the fact it was an amateur job, not really. We’ll be sending the remnants to Quantico for analysis.”
“I guess that’s better than deciding it was made by an expert.”
Isaac’s gaze drifted aimlessly as he mulled over his own observations at the blast scene. Movement caught his attention. He froze, nudged the captain and pointed at the feet and ankles visible on the opposite side of the cubicle’s curtain.
Gavin McCord moved silently, swiftly, to yank away the cloth barrier. A woman gasped. Covered her mouth with her hands. The nervous nurse had been eavesdropping on their discussion!
Both officers stared at her, not speaking.
“I—I was just waiting to finish that bandage,” she said, hurrying to Isaac’s side and pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “I take it you’re through talking.”
“For now,” Isaac said, turning to his boss. “I’ll meet you outside when I’m done here, Gavin. Will you take care of Abby for me?”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll get your boot, too.”
Isaac tried a slight smile to see if it would relax his nurse. “Is it still a madhouse of reporters out there?”
She nodded, yet didn’t meet his gaze directly.
“That reminds me of another thing that struck me as odd,” Isaac told his captain in parting. He knew McCord was friendly with Jeffries but he just had to ask. “What made Congressman Jeffries decide to call a press conference so late?”
“He says he decided to go public because his pet anti-crime bill was coming up for a vote in the morning.”
“He couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”
“Apparently not. He was allegedly proving to his constituency how much that bill is needed to keep DC safe.” McCord touched the brim of his cap and picked up the beagle. “Take your time in here. I’ll be waiting outside, asking questions and listening to rumors.”
Isaac lay back and let Daniella work on his leg, noting her unsteady fingers. As soon as she stripped off her gloves again, he reached for one of her hands.
“You can tell me,” he said tenderly.
She pulled away. “Tell you what?”
“Why you’re so afraid.”
He thought she was going to leave the room without replying until she said, “I just hate bombs, that’s all. They’re so indiscriminate. So lethal.”
“This one wasn’t much, if that helps any.”
“People were still hurt.” After a barely perceptible shiver she continued. “The doctor has released you. You should see your family physician for a follow-up in a few days. Watch for redness, swelling or discharge from the wound and keep it clean and dry.”
“Yes, ma’am. Can I walk without crutches?”
“Your leg will hurt more in a few days than it does now but walking won’t do any more damage, if that’s what you’re asking. The injection we gave you will get you home tonight. After that you can take one of the pills in this envelope every four to six hours or switch to over-the-counter painkillers. Just don’t double up.”
“Anything else?”
“I would say, ‘Get a different job,’ but I can tell that’s not an option for a man like you.”
“A man like me? What kind would that be?”
“One who’s strong-willed and sure of himself, a person who never wastes time rehashing the past and thinks he’s invincible.”
“Maybe I really am,” Isaac teased.
The heartrending look in her emerald-green eyes penetrated his defenses despite his strong resolve. It had been a long time since he’d seen that much poignancy and sorrow in a person’s gaze.
This shy, quiet woman had given his heart a twist without saying a word.
* * *
Daniella was in no hurry to return to the hospital’s common areas, where she could be spotted. Yes, her father’s promised vendetta might have vanished with the passage of years but she wasn’t willing to take that chance. As her US marshal handlers had warned, leaving the witness protection program was not optional. Once you were in, you stayed. Period.
“Which is the whole point,” she murmured. “Having a long and happy life.” It was only at times like tonight, when violence brought her past peril to mind, that she fretted so uncontrollably.
Hurrying through the halls, she had almost gained sanctuary when she was paged to go back and assist another doctor. The way she saw her predicament, all she had to do was reach that particular private exam room without passing any nosy reporters or photographers who might inadvertently broadcast her picture and cause untold damage by revealing her hidden identity. Under normal circumstances it would not have been difficult to dodge them. Given the presence of the congressman and his entourage, plus the press corps, moving around in the ER could prove tricky.
Daniella grabbed an extra clipboard, held it beside her cheek to mask her features and hurried toward her new assignment. She was looking ahead so intently she missed noticing a dark-haired figure to her blinded left. She and the muscular man came together with a thump and he grabbed her.
It was all she could do to keep from screaming.
“Hey, settle down,” he said. “It’s me, Isaac. Are you okay?”
His voice sent tingles racing from the arm he was holding all the way to her toes. Regaining her balance, she helped steady him in return.
“Sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I thought you’d already left,” Daniella said.
“I was trying to catch up to you and thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. Just doing my job.”
Before the K-9 cop could reply, she was blinded by an intense flash of light and someone shoved a microphone in her face. “Are you working on the congressman?” a reporter demanded. “Did he really have a heart attack? What’s his prognosis? How soon can we see him?”
Isaac’s immediate intervention—his arms outstretched and his badge in hand—sent the crowd back a few steps, providing an escape route for Daniella. She held the clipboard between herself and the others and ducked in the exam room door, slamming it behind her.
Her back pressed against the door. She fought to see through the orbs of color that danced in her vision after the camera flashes.
“Over here, Dunne,” the doctor said. “I want you to prepare Congressman Jeffries for an X-ray of his shoulder and an EKG, just in case his pain is the result of strain on his heart. I’ll send a tech down to take him to radiology. Stay with him until then.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“And pull yourself together,” he whispered behind his hand in passing. “The last thing our patients need is to hear you shrieking.”
“What? When?”
“Just before you opened the door.”
“I—I didn’t scream. Did I?”
“You made enough noise for me to hear you in here,” he said, shooting her a look of disdain. “See that it doesn’t happen again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tall, gray-haired Harland Jeffries was removing his dress shirt and carefully folding the sleeves together before laying the garment aside atop his expensively tailored suit jacket and silk tie.
“You’ll need to wear one of our gowns for your tests,” Daniella said. “Would you like me to assist you in removing your T-shirt?”
“Fine.”
Jeffries’s reply was gruff but she wasn’t offended. Illness or injury often brought out the worst in patients. Except for the K-9 cop, she added. It was really nice of Isaac to step up and physically defend her the way he had. Instead of him thanking her, she should be the one dishing out thanks. She owed him. Big-time.
Gently easing the stretchy, white cotton shirt over the congressman’s head, she glanced at his back. One side showed a nasty scar from the time he was shot several months ago, sadly at the same time his son, Michael, was murdered.
The opposite shoulder bore an interesting café au lait mark near the scapula. Judging by its odd shape, she guessed it to have been present from conception and birth rather than being another scar or a discoloration caused by trauma.
Daniella fitted the gown around her patient and stepped back. “All right, Congressman, you’re ready. I’ll wait here with you, as the doctor said, until they come to escort you to radiology.”
“Whatever.”
His off-putting attitude was nothing like his public persona. If he had behaved this way toward the press, he’d have killed his chances for reelection long ago.
Thoughts of people who were not trustworthy and genuine reminded her of her childhood. That was all it took to bring back images of the deadly explosion her father had orchestrated.
Yellow billowing fire had leaped and curled back on itself while black smoke roiled. Pieces of metal had rained down. She flinched, wanting to throw her arms over her head and duck just as she had that fateful day her mother had been brutally murdered.
Thankfully, the radiology tech appeared at the door with a wheelchair and distracted both Daniella and her patient.
“Ready, sir?” the tech asked.
“I suppose so.” Settling himself in the chair, the congressman pasted a resigned expression on his face, raised his chin and visibly prepared to meet his public. “All right. Let’s go.”
Daniella waited until the hall was empty before she slipped out. She didn’t have to be a licensed physician to suspect that Jeffries was either faking or at least making more of his condition than was warranted. There was no way that man was having heart trouble the way he’d indicated.
Then again, she was very good at spotting falsehoods. After all, she’d grown up in a household where her father’s lies were the norm. He was no businessman in the sense he’d implied. His business was crime and his methods for controlling his family were violent. She should know. When he’d tired of abusing her poor mother, he’d graduated to trying to keep Mama in line by hitting Daniella.
That was what had eventually caused her mother to call it quits and file for divorce. And that was also what had inevitably led to her murder.
To this day, Daniella wondered. If she had been courageous enough to run away when she was younger, would her mother still be alive? Was it all her fault?
Logic said no. Guilt had a different opinion.
* * *
Isaac was already beginning to feel the effects of his injury and the pain medication as Gavin drove him out of downtown DC, proving that the decision to let someone chauffeur him home was a wise one. Abby lay on the second seat, content to nap during the short trip.
“It’s a good thing your brother and sister live with you,” the captain said.
Isaac nodded and stifled a yawn. “Yeah, that’s us. The Three Musketeers, ‘One for all and all for one.’”
“Must be interesting deciding who’s in charge. Do you do it by age or former military rank?”
Chuckling, Isaac shook his head. “We tried both after we inherited the place from our great aunt, but it didn’t work very well. We each have our strong and weak points. Jake is a great manager so we leave the running of the farm to him. Becky got into real estate when we were selling off some small lots to help with back taxes and repairs. It suited her so that’s what she’s doing now.”
“And you’re the only one in law enforcement.”
“Right. Me and Abs.” He glanced over his shoulder at his napping partner. “She’s a real treasure.”
“You need to find somebody like my Cassie.”
“Uh-uh. Women are too complicated. Besides, I have Abby and my job.”
“That’s not enough.”
“You underestimate the positive influence of a happy beagle,” Isaac replied. “She gives great kisses, too.”
McCord rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Sometimes, Black, you really worry me.”
Groggy from the pain meds, Isaac yawned again. “Yeah. Sometimes I worry about myself, too.”
He closed his eyes, intending to rest, and was surprised to visualize the face of the pretty nurse he’d just met. There was something about her that called out to him; that spoke to his inner man the same way wounded warriors in the VA hospital did. She was haunted, but by what? Or whom?
Isaac blinked and forced himself awake to ask, “Are you still planning on investigating my nurse’s background like you said earlier?”
“I think I should, don’t you?”
“Yes.” There was no way Isaac could make himself doubt Daniella’s apparently good character, yet he was curious about what was frightening her. She was plainly scared to death. And judging by the way she’d tried to keep from being photographed, he assumed she was hiding from something. Something that had cut to the core and left her shell-shocked.
Whatever her problem was, or had been, he was determined to learn enough to help her. That kind of thing wasn’t in his official job description, at least not for the K-9 unit. It was, however, part of his Christian faith and upbringing. If a neighbor needed assistance, it was his duty to render it to the best of his ability.
Turning his back on the problem was not an option. The good Lord had brought Daniella Dunne into his life for a reason. Now all he had to do was figure out what that reason was and decide whether or not he could do anything for her.
A lot would depend upon what they learned from the background search. After that, he’d pray about it and make his final decision.
Truth to tell, Isaac thought, smiling as he dozed off, he wasn’t going to mind becoming involved in the nurse’s troubles. Not one bit.