Nica, page 19
“No.” She was fighting the IV line, still trying to sit up fully despite the pain tearing through her chest. “You don’t get to keep me in the dark anymore. Not about this. Not when it’s my life we’re talking about.”
“It’s because it’s your life that we’re keeping you out of it,” Shiloh said. “You’re safe here. There are guards outside your door around the clock who’ll keep you safe. Soon, this will all be over.”
“What if you’re wrong?” The question came out softer than she intended, fear creeping into her voice despite her anger. “What if something happens to Gabe because I’m stuck in this bed and can’t help?”
“Then we handle it,” Dane said simply. “That’s what family does.”
But as her brothers stood there—solid, capable, determined—Nica couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all walking into something bigger and more dangerous than any of them realized. And the man she loved was at the center of it, playing the role of bait in a trap that might close in on him and get him killed.
And there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Gabe stood in the hospital parking lot, the early morning air crisp against his skin as he slipped his wedding ring onto his finger. The simple gold band felt heavy, weighted with the knowledge of what he was about to do. He pressed his palm against his chest, feeling the burden of what he was attempting. He couldn’t blow this, so much depended on him giving the performance of a lifetime. It was time to end this farce, end the phone calls, the break-ins, the tormenting and stalking of his wife. This performance needed to convince Banner, needed him to believe that Gabe was falling to pieces.
Three floors above him, Nica lay recovering from surgery, the gunshot wound that had nearly taken her life a stark reminder of how far Banner would go in his besotted quest for revenge. For vengeance. Gabe’s jaw clenched as he forced himself not to look up at her window. Every instinct screamed at him to go to her, to hold her hand and tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn’t. Not if this plan was going to work.
She knew what they planned—well, at least part of it—because she’d caught on to her brothers when they’d visited. Knew he planned to use himself as bait to draw out the man who’d made their lives a living nightmare for months. But no more. If this plan worked, Banner wouldn’t be able to stay hidden, he’d want to come out to gloat. And then they’d have him.
His phone buzzed—a text from Mike. He was coordinating with the FBI component of this sting: Ready when you are. Seconds later another from Rafe, the sheriff: All set. Break a leg, Doc.
Gabe almost laughed at the irony. Break a leg. If this went wrong, Banner might break more than that.
He straightened his shoulders and tugged at the lapels of his jacket before walking through the hospital’s automatic doors, nodding to the security guard standing beside the reception desk. Just like any other morning. Simply Dr. Summers heading to the weekly staff meeting. Nothing unusual at all.
The conference room was already filled when he arrived. Dr. Claudia Henley, the chief of staff, sat at the head of the table shuffling through her notes. The nursing supervisors clustered together, coffee cups in hand, while the department heads found their usual seats. Normal. Routine. None of them knew this was just the calm before the storm he was about to unleash.
“Good morning, Gabriel,” Dr. Henley called out. “How’s Nica doing?”
The concern in her voice was genuine, and for a moment, Gabe felt a stab of guilt for what he was about to do to these people—his colleagues, his friends. But Banner’s spies were everywhere. Everybody had a weakness, and Banner had found ways to exploit some he’d never expected. Which meant he couldn’t trust anybody. All the more reason this performance had to be flawless.
“She’s alive,” he said curtly, taking a seat near the back. “No thanks to the people in this town.”
A few heads turned at his tone, but nobody said anything to his biting comment. The meeting began as scheduled. Budget reports, staffing issues, new protocols—the usual administrative minutiae. Gabe sat in silence, the tension building in his shoulders, letting the rage he’d been suppressing for weeks begin to simmer.
When Dr. Henley called for new business, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“I have something to say.”
The room fell silent. All eyes turned toward him, and Gabe could see the concern already creeping across familiar faces. Good. He needed them worried. Once all was said and done, he needed them talking.
“Someone in this room—who knows how many people in this whole stinking town—is trying to destroy me.” His voice was louder than necessary, carrying the edge of hysteria he’d been practicing. “You think I don’t know? You think I can’t see what’s happening?”
“Gabe,” Dr. Henley said carefully, “perhaps we should discuss this privately…”
“No!” He slammed his palm on the table, several people jumping at the abrupt sound. “I’m tired of the whispers, tired of the looks. You all think you know what happened in California, don’t you? Think you’ve got me all figured out.” He grabbed the back of his chair and flung it across the room, and it slammed against the wall, before clattering to the floor.
The room was dead silent now, tension thick enough to cut. Gabe let his breathing become ragged, his hands shake slightly—the picture of a man on the edge.
“Dr. Summers, maybe—”
“Melissa Carpenter,” he said, not allowing Susan Jones, the nursing director, to interrupt. Watched as recognition flickered across several faces. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think I killed her. You heard the rumors, the lies people spread about me. I know somebody checked up on me after I moved to your precious town. You think I was drunk, high, whatever B.S. story you’ve been fed.”
“Gabriel, please—” This from Dr. Morrison, the head of surgery.
“I was cleared!” Gabe’s voice cracked, and he was surprised to find that part of his anguish wasn’t entirely manufactured. “The investigation cleared me completely. No malpractice, no negligence, nothing. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? You’ve already made up your minds. A patient died and I must be guilty. It had to be my fault. It wasn’t!” He made sure his voice was almost screeching at the end, a tinge of paranoia slipping in—exactly how he’d practiced repeatedly. He began pacing, running his hands through his hair, letting his appearance become more disheveled with each step. “She died on my table, and I’ve been living with that every single day since. Every night I see her face, hear the monitor flatline. But I didn’t kill her. I tried to save her, just like I try to save everyone who comes through these doors.”
“Of course you do,” Dr. Henley said soothingly. “Gabe, no one here thinks—”
“Liar!” The word exploded from him with such vehemence that the nursing supervisor nearest him recoiled. “You’re all liars. Someone’s been feeding information to the medical board of Texas, trying to get my license revoked. Just like they did in California. Spreading rumors, planting evidence. And now look what’s happened—my wife nearly died because somebody has a baseless vendetta against me!”
His voice broke on the last words, and he could see the shock on their faces. Perfect. This was exactly the reaction he needed.
“Dr. Summers, I—have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of anybody named Melissa Carpenter. Don’t know anything about a malpractice case against you.” He could almost hear the ‘but you can bet I’ll be checking up on everything you’ve said’ lingering beneath the words Dr. Henley spoke.
“The cases in California—they were clean. Every single one. But someone’s been digging them up, twisting the facts, making it look like I’m some kind of butcher with a scalpel. Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted. You’ve destroyed my reputation, turned this entire town against me, and now my wife is lying upstairs with a bullet wound because of it. I hope your delusions, your quest for some type of vindication is worth it, because she almost died. I hope you can sleep at night with what you’ve done. I could still lose my wife, because she’s terrified of me now. And who can blame her? She’s been stalked, terrorized in her own apartment, and now somebody hired a hitman kill her. All because you hate me.” He pounded his fist against his chest. “Come after me! Leave Nica alone. Act like a man and come at me!”
Dr. Henley stood slowly, her face pale. “Gabe, I think you need to take some time off. Go home—”
“Home?” Gabe laughed bitterly. “Where’s that? Here, where everyone thinks I’m a murderer? Or California, where I can’t practice medicine anymore because of the lies you people have been spreading? Did you know the World Health Organization offered me a job?” He heard the gasps around the table. “Yeah, I had to kiss that goodbye, too, because of your lies, the forged documents you sent them.” He swayed slightly, as if the weight of everything was finally crushing him. “I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Every time I close my eyes, I see patients who trusted me, who died despite everything I did to save them. And you vultures just keep circling, waiting for me to fall.”
The conference room door opened, and Gabe wasn’t surprised to see two security guards enter. Someone must have pressed the panic button. Good. Things were going according to plan.
“Dr. Summers,” the lead guard said calmly, “we need you to come with us.”
“Get away from me!” Gabe backed toward the window, his movements erratic. “I know what this is. You’re all in on it, aren’t you? Trying to have me committed, take away everything I have left.” He turned to face the room full of his colleagues, letting desperation flood his voice. “I dedicated my life to helping people. I took an oath to do no harm. And this is how you repay me? By destroying everything I’ve worked for?”
The security guards moved closer, and Gabe let them. He needed to be removed from the hospital. It was crucial to the plan.
“Please, Dr. Summers,” the guard said. “Let’s just step outside and talk.”
Gabe allowed them to escort him from the room, but not before turning back to deliver his final lines. “When the truth comes out—and it will—I hope you can all live with what you’ve done. My wife almost died because of your lies. If she doesn’t make it…” He let the threat hang in the air, unfinished but unmistakable.
As the guards led him down the hallway, Gabe could hear the explosion of voices from the conference room behind him. Good. They’d be talking about this for hours, calling their friends, spreading the story. By noon, everyone in Shiloh Springs would know that Dr. Gabriel Summers had finally snapped.
In the lobby, Douglas and Liam were waiting. Douglas’ face was a mask of concern that Gabe knew was only partially fake. His father-in-law was a good man, and this couldn’t be easy for him to watch.
“Gabe,” Liam said, grabbing his arm. “What was that? We got a call to head over here fast, that you’d snapped.”
“That was me finally telling everyone in this lousy town the truth,” Gabe said, his voice still carrying that edge of instability. “Finally telling these holier-than-thou people what I really think of them.”
The security guards released him to his family, and Douglas immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, son. Let’s get you some coffee, somewhere quiet where we can talk.”
Gracie’s Grounds was only a few blocks away, and the morning crowd had thinned out, but there were still enough people seated at the tables or milling around for the plan to work. Perfect. More witnesses to his breakdown. Gabe let Douglas guide him to a corner table, but he couldn’t sit still. The performance had to continue. He had to convince everybody who saw him that he’d finally snapped—that he needed professional help—or more.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice carrying across the coffee shop. Several heads turned in their direction. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. When my wife is lying in a hospital bed because someone in this town wants me destroyed.”
“Wife?” Gabe heard somebody whisper. “I didn’t know he was married.”
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m married. And my wife, my bride, the woman I love more than life itself, is lying in a hospital bed after having a bullet dug out of her chest.”
Okay, maybe that was a little over the top, but I need to make this look good.
“Nica?”
“He’s married to Nica Boudreau?”
“Must be why he’s here with her father and brother.”
He could hear voices coming from all around him, the realization sweeping through the coffee shop. Now that people knew he was married to one of their precious Boudreaus, it was on to the next step of their plan.
“Keep your voice down,” Liam hissed, but Gabe shook his head violently.
“No! I’m tired of keeping quiet. Tired of being the nice guy while someone tries to frame me for malpractice. You know what they’re saying about me? That I killed that woman in California. That I was drunk when I operated on her.”
His hands were shaking now—not entirely an act. The stress of the last few weeks, the fear for Nica’s safety, the weight of the lies he spewed for the masses—it was taking its toll.
“I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol before surgery. Never. But try telling that to the medical board when someone’s feeding them altered records, planted evidence. They want me to fail. Want me broken. Wouldn’t be surprised if they want to drive me out of this town.”
Gracie herself appeared at their table, her face creased with worry. “Dr. Summers? Are you alright? You look…”
“Like hell?” Gabe laughed harshly. “Yeah, that’s about right. When someone’s trying to destroy your life, it tends to show.”
The coffee shop had gone quiet, everyone straining to listen to the town doctor’s very public meltdown. This was better than Gabe had hoped. By the time word reached Banner, the story would be even more dramatic than the reality.
“The nightmares won’t stop,” he continued, his voice cracking. “Every patient I’ve lost, every family I’ve had to face and tell them their loved ones couldn’t be saved—they’re all there when I close my eyes. And now Nica…what if she doesn’t make it? What if the last thing she remembers is me being accused of murder?”
That’s when Rafe walked through the door, his expression grim but unsurprised. The timing was perfect—they rehearsed this part carefully.
“Gabe,” Rafe said, approaching the table with the cautious air of someone dealing with an unstable individual. “I need you to come with me.”
“Why?” Gabe demanded, jumping to his feet. “What crime have I committed now? Trying to save lives? Caring too much about my patients?”
“You’re scaring folks, Gabe. Making threats. I need you to calm down and come with me before this gets worse.”
“Worse?” Gabe’s laugh bordered on hysterical. “How could it possibly get worse? Your sister’s been shot, my career’s in ruins, and everyone thinks I’m a killer. What’s next, Sheriff? You going to arrest me? Lock me up for caring too much?”
Time to wrap up his performance. He allowed Rafe to cuff him, allowed himself to be led from the coffee shop under the stares of half the town. Was his performance enough to convince Julian Banner? By lunchtime, the story would be all over Shiloh Springs: Dr. Gabriel Summers had finally cracked under the pressure.
As Rafe walked him across the street to the sheriff’s station, Gabe caught sight of his reflection in Gracie’s front window. He looked exactly like what he was pretending to be—a broken man who’d lost everything. The irony wasn’t lost on him that the best performance of his life might also be his most honest.
Now all they could do was wait for Banner to take the bait.
But as they walked across the street, Gabe in handcuffs, neither Gabe nor Rafe noticed the black sedan parked across the street, or the fact that it was now turning toward the hospital.
Julian Banner had indeed taken the bait. But not the way any of them had expected.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The antiseptic smell of the hospital had become as familiar to Nica as her own perfume over the past two days. She shifted carefully in the narrow bed, wincing as the movement pulled at the surgical incision across her chest. The bullet had done its damage—punctured lung, nicked artery—but the surgeons had worked their magic. She was alive, breathing on her own, and according to her primary surgeon, well on her way to a full recovery. But she’d been warned, absolutely no getting upset, to stay in bed and take it easy, which for Nica was nearly impossible. She wasn’t the type of person who could simply sit still and do nothing.
Of course, things might be a little easier if her husband had bothered to show up. Nope, she’d gotten a visit from her brothers, along with a lecture that still stung. Good thing she knew they loved her, otherwise she might be plotting the kind of revenge they could only dream about.
Nica stared at the ceiling tiles, counting the tiny perforations for the hundredth time. Forty-seven holes in the tile directly above her bed. She’d memorized every scuff mark on the walls, every sound the ancient air conditioner made when it kicked on. Anything to keep from dwelling on the fury that had been building in her chest like an infection.
Gabe knew who had tried to kill her. Her own husband had figured out the identity of the man who’d been terrorizing them for months, and he hadn’t told her. Turned out he told just about everybody else. He’d told her brothers, he’d told his FBI friend Mike. According to Shiloh, the Austin FBI office was coordinating with the Shiloh Springs Sheriff’s Department, AKA her big brother Rafe. For all she knew, even her parents had been told who’d hired the man who’d attempted to kill her. Her brothers had shown up earlier, read her the riot act for eloping with Gabe, rubbed salt in the wound of how much it had hurt her parents, and made her feel about two inches tall. They’d even mentioned the fact that Gabe and his cohorts were setting up a plan to use Gabe as bait, to bring out the man who had been making their lives a living nightmare.
