Elisabeth Naughton - Wait for Me

Which was the real Ryan Harrison? Cold and businesslike as he’d been when they’d first met, or warm and compassionate like he’d been with her the past few days?

She couldn’t deny the sexual charge she felt whenever he was close, or the unexplainable tug she felt towards him in her soul, but doubt lingered doubt over her judgment skills. Hadn’t she learned that the hard way with Jake?

Her conversation with Ryan the night before ran through her mind. He’d known Jake. They’d worked together. Regardless of what he’d told her, she had a sinking suspicion he wasn’t being totally honest.

“I think that’s it.” Ryan’s voice cut through her reverie.

“It’s a houseboat.”

Ryan pulled the car to the curb and shifted into park. “Looks like nobody’s home.”

“Just our luck,” she said with a frown.

He opened the car door. “Come on. Let’s go take a look.”

The dock rocked gently under her feet. Kate’s fingers dug into her palm as she walked, and she bit back the desire to run back to dry land.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked.

“I’m not wild about boats.”

“Since when?” He stepped around a bucket left on the dock.

“Since forever.”

“Never bothered you before. You used to spend hours on our boat.”

She stopped at the front door of the houseboat. “You have a boat?”

“Had. I sold it a few years back.”

Strange. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be on a seasickness machine. Just one more thing to prove she wasn’t the woman he remembered.

She lifted a hand and knocked. When no one answered, she knocked again.

Ryan turned and surveyed the area. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just checking something out.”

Fabulous. She hated being kept in the dark. Hated even more that she was standing on a boat, of all things. She looked over the side at the murky green water below and felt her stomach tumble. Why anyone would want to live on a boat was beyond her.

The front door popped open, and Ryan’s face appeared behind the screen.

Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Come on.” He drew her into the house. “Back door was unlocked.”

“Ryan, this is breaking and entering,” she said when the door closed behind her.

“You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”

“That was different. It was for a reason. This just feels like…like we’re invading someone’s privacy.”

He chuckled and walked through the small living area. “Don’t grow a conscience on me right now. Look around. See if anything stands out. I’ll check the upper level.”

He disappeared up the small flight of stairs. Frowning, Kate took in the orange-and-brown afghan tossed over the back of a worn leather Barcalounger with holes in the armrests. Gossip magazines lay scattered over a scarred, oak coffee table. An empty coffee mug sat on an end table.

She surveyed the adjoining kitchen. Papers littered the Formica kitchen table. A half-eaten bagel sat on a paper plate in the kitchen.

Moving around the counter, she ran her fingers against the coffeepot. Still warm. The light blinked red, indicating the machine was still on. Either Janet Kelly had left in a hurry, or she wasn’t too worried about burning down her humble abode.

Kate flipped through the papers on the table. Bills, receipts, a fashion magazine. The woman had a penchant for shopping. Kate continued searching, hoping to find anything that might link Janet Kelly to the nightmare that had become her life.

Nothing stood out. She scanned the room again. On the opposite side of the kitchen lay a newspaper. Sighing, she moved to it and flipped it face up.

Then drew in a breath.

The front page boasted a photo of her and Ryan at the press conference yesterday. The photographer had captured a moment when she’d been answering a question, and Ryan had glanced her direction. He’d either been surprised by something she’d said, or moved. There was a gentle expression across his face. One at major odds with the way he’d looked at her earlier that day. But what caused Kate to stare wasn’t merely the picture but the red circle that had been drawn in marker around her face.

The squeak of floorboards above drew her attention. Grabbing the paper, she made her way up the stairs.

The second floor consisted of one large bedroom divided into a sleeping area and an office. Along one wall sat a desk and computer. Papers littered the surface. A lamp hung down from above.

Ryan looked up from the stack of papers he was flipping when she came into the room. “Janet Kelly left in a hurry.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.” A sense of dread slithered beneath her skin. “Coffeepot’s still warm downstairs.”

“Find anything?”

“Just this.” She tossed the paper on the desk in front of him.

He stared at it. She couldn’t read his expression.

“What about you?” she asked, shaking off the foreboding sense of fear coursing through her.

“Not a lot.” He lifted a torn sheet of notebook paper and handed it to her. “You recognize any names on there?”

“My name’s on here.”

“I know.”

There were roughly fifteen names on the sheet, over half of which were crossed out in red. Hers was circled at the bottom.

“What is this?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know. But I think we need to start checking out the other names on that list, then find Janet Kelly and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

She did not want to be here.

Being shoved into a tiny tube while strapped to a table wasn’t Kate’s idea of fun. She ground her teeth and took calming breaths. She’d much rather be out making phone calls with Ryan than having the CT scan he’d insisted on this afternoon.

The test was taking entirely too long. Didn’t they realize she was claustrophobic?

The machine buzzed and whirred, and the table retracted from the tube.

Thank God.

Ryan was waiting for her in the reception area when she reemerged from the dressing room. His head was down, his fingers rubbing his temples. Tension surrounded him. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she walked across the room. He hadn’t looked that worried before she’d gone in.

“Ryan?”

When he glanced up, those worry lines faded from his handsome face. A forced smile curved his mouth, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Done?”

“Yeah. Dr. Murphy said to come back in an hour.”

He rose. “Let’s get something to eat while we wait.” With a hand at the small of her back, he urged her toward the elevator.

Kate settled into the dimly lit booth in the pub a block from the hospital. After their orders were taken, she said, “What did you find out?”

He draped an arm over the back of the booth and tapped a straw against the wooden table. “Nothing.”

He was lying. She could feel it. “Come on, Ryan. Don’t hold out on me.”

“How do you feel about a vacation? We take the kids and go off somewhere for a while, use the time to let Reed and Julia get to know each other. Beach or mountains, your pick.”

“Mitch told me you never take vacations, Mr. Harrison. You’re starting to worry me. What’s going on?”

As he glanced around the bar as if to see who was listening, her gaze followed. A bartender worked the long, mahogany bar. Two patrons sat on barstools at its sleek surface. A few tables throughout the space were occupied by tourists.

She looked back at him. “Ryan, what aren’t you telling me?”

He finally fished out the torn slip of paper from his pocket they’d taken from Janet Kelly’s house earlier that morning and passed it to her. “Each of the people crossed out are dead.”

“What?”

He looked pained when he pointed at the names on the list. “Heart attack, car accident, drowning. One even died of a drug overdose just a few days ago. No indication of foul play in any of the incidents.”

Four names were still uncrossed, including hers. “What about the others?”

“The top two I couldn’t find, or there was no answer. The last one before yours, Kari Adams—it’s a common enough name. I didn’t have time to go through the phonebook for her.”

Kate’s brow creased. Why was that name so familiar?

Their food was served, and she set the paper on the table next to her beer, though the last thing she felt like doing was eating.

Ryan squeezed her hand. The casual connection sent a tingle of awareness over her skin. But when she looked up, she saw the worry in his eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said gently. “It could just be a coincidence.”

“You don’t believe that. I can see it on your face. You think those people may have been at the nursing home too, don’t you?”

He sat back, trying to look shocked, not doing a very good job of it. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“I’m not a moron. I know pharmaceuticals are a billion-dollar industry. Do you think Jake was doing his own research? Testing it himself? Hoping to push it through for FDA approval?”

“It’s a theory.”

She glanced down at the paper again. “And you think these people were test subjects. That Janet Kelly knew about them, knew about what was happening.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It doesn’t explain why they’re dead now, though.”

“It does if someone’s trying to cover up the evidence. What he was doing was illegal, right?”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

“And until I showed up here, no one really knew anything about this.”

“I didn’t say that.”