Identity Withheld. Sandra OrchardЧитать онлайн книгу.
adoption ring wasn’t behind tonight’s fire, her picture in the paper would seal her fate. A haircut, dye job and colored contacts may have transformed her from a long-haired, blue-eyed blonde, but there was no disguising her heart-shaped face.
* * *
One good thing Kara learned en route to the hospital was that the coffee shop where she was supposed to meet her handler was only two blocks away. All she had to do was convince the doctor she was fine and get out before anyone tried to stick her with anything.
Except the triage nurse didn’t hold out much hope that she’d see a doctor anytime soon. “The fog caused a huge traffic pileup,” she said. “Every E.R. bed is full, and I’m afraid it may be some time before we can even transfer care from the EMT. We need to give priority to the most critical patients.”
“Yes, I understand,” Kara said, fishing for an out. “Perhaps I should just wait to see my own doctor tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” the paramedic—Sherri, she’d said her name was—piped up. “You have no home to go to. And besides, the sheriff is coming here to interview you.”
“Okay, then.” The nurse recorded all Kara’s pertinent details, and then directed Sherri to wheel her into the hall to wait until her care could be transferred.
Not good. She could be stuck for hours waiting for a bed, never mind waiting to see the E.R. doc. “You really don’t have to stay with me,” Kara said to Sherri after her partner wandered off to do paperwork and restock their rig. “You must have other calls to get to.”
“No, not until the hospital takes over your care. That’s the policy.”
Kara sat up. “If you just need the gurney back, I can sit in the waiting room.” She felt silly lying on the thing anyway.
“That’s not how it works.”
“Oh.”
Sherri hitched her hip onto the edge of the gurney. “So how long have you known my cousin?”
“Your cousin?”
“Jake.”
“Oh, the firefighter.” Kara vaguely remembered him referring to Sherri as his cousin, although they shared little family resemblance. “Just since tonight.”
Sherri’s head jerked back as if she didn’t believe her. “Really? He didn’t act like it.”
Jake’s “It’s okay. I got you” replayed in Kara’s mind as she realized for the first time that he’d caught her, when Sherri had been closer, right at her side, even.
Sherri studied her intently, her expression unconvinced.
“Why don’t you grab yourself a coffee?” Kara suggested.
“I’m fine.” Sherri asked her about her family and job and Kara did her best to avoid giving direct answers.
Once more, Kara suggested Sherri get herself a coffee or bite to eat or a breath of fresh air, anything to get her away for a few minutes so Kara could slip out of the hospital. She needed to go before the bad guys figured out she was here. But the woman wouldn’t budge.
Kara readjusted her position on the uncomfortable gurney for the umpteenth time in two hours. “What happened to the sheriff? I thought he wanted to ask me questions.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”
No, she couldn’t do that. It seemed as if every person who walked by looked at her oddly. Any one of them could be a goon of the adoption ring waiting for the chance to finish her off. She needed to get out of here. Somehow she needed to get word to the marshal, but with Sherri hovering so close, Kara hadn’t dared even to try to text him. “Um, Sherri? I need to use the washroom.” Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner?
Sherri smiled, her eyes crinkling as if she genuinely cared, so different from her all-business attitude back in the ambulance. “No problem. I can walk you there.” She led her to a single-stall facility.
“Uh, maybe you could find out how much longer the wait will be while I go.”
Sherri propped a shoulder against the hall wall. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”
Great, sneaking away is out. Kara shut the door and opted for plan B. She turned on the faucet and the fan and prayed the noise would muffle her voice as she dialed Ray’s number. Voice mail picked up on the fifth ring. What did she do now? It wasn’t like him not to answer.
A knock sounded on the door. “You okay?” Sherri called.
“Yes. Almost done.” Kara lifted her voice over the noise of the fan, and then cupped her hand around her mouth at the receiver. “Ray, it’s Kara. They made me come to the hospital and the sheriff wants to question me and... Please come get me if you can. Or I’ll meet you as soon as I’m released.”
Sherri knocked again. “They have a bed for you. You ready?”
Kara stuffed the phone back into her pocket, snapped off the faucet and fan, and jerked open the door. “Ready.”
Rather than return her to the gurney, Sherri led her to a curtained-off bed at the end of a long room lined with beds. “Here you go. Lie down here and the doctor will be in to see you soon.” Sherri nodded at the sheriff waiting by the bed, then left. Facing the sheriff alone, Kara suddenly felt a whole lot worse than she had a minute ago.
A very efficient nurse wasted no time checking her vitals as the sheriff pulled up a chair and flipped open his notebook. Between his crisply ironed shirt, unflattering crew cut and the hard lines creasing his face, he reminded her of a drill-sergeant principal she’d once worked under—the kind of guy who didn’t let anything slip by him.
“Your pulse is very rapid,” the nurse scolded.
Yours would be, too, if someone was trying to kill you! Kara took a deep breath and willed it to slow.
“Tell me what happened,” the sheriff said.
“I was upstairs watching a movie in my room when my landlady’s cat started scratching my door and mewing frantically.” Kara dug her fingers into the sheets. Had she cost Mrs. Harboyle her dear companion, too? “Did the firefighters save the cat? It ran when I tried to pick it up.”
With a suppressed huff, the sheriff stopped writing. “A large, long-haired white cat?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, he was rescued. Please continue.”
“I turned off the TV and—” She squeezed her eyes shut as the panic crashed over her all over again. “That’s when—” Her breath came in short gasps. “I heard the crackling, smelled the smoke.”
The nurse touched Kara’s shoulder. “You’re okay now. Take deep breaths.”
Inhaling, Kara pressed her lips together.
“Did you hear anything downstairs before that?” the sheriff asked.
“It’s an old house. It creaks and groans a lot. I try not to pay too much attention.” She bit her lip. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. She did try not to pay attention, but with a death threat hanging over her head, every creak and groan made her jump. That was why she’d turned on the movie, extraloud, to drown out the noises of the storm outside, and the one inside her head and heart. She was spending Thanksgiving alone, and couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever be able to spend another holiday with her family, as paltry as their celebrations had always been.
“How about outside? A bark? A car engine? Any kind of movement?”
She twisted her hands in the sheets and buried them in her lap. “No, nothing.”
“Were you home alone all day?”
“No, I work for