Her Duty Bound Defender, page 5
“She’s determined to find Cowgirl, like the rest of us.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Why hadn’t they told him sooner? Team communication was essential.
“We’ve searched the area and have feelers out for any sightings to be reported straight to the MCK9 task force. It’s a local job, and that’s part of the reason I didn’t race to tell you.” Chase’s comment answered Bennett’s unspoken question. “I need your undivided attention focused on Naomi and the investigation there. Selena and Kyle are returning to Colorado to assist in the investigation. They’ll be in touch soon. Between all of you, I’m hoping we’ll find what we need to stop the RMK from taking any more lives.”
“Affirmative.”
Once they’d disconnected, Bennett glanced down at his phone and sent a silent prayer for Cowgirl’s quick and safe return. He called the Douglas County Sheriff’s Department. The dispatcher provided him a case number and connected him directly to the deputy assigned to Naomi’s van.
“Deputy McClintock,” she answered on the second ring.
“This is Detective Bennett Ford with the Mountain Country K-9 Task Force. I was advised you’re handling the processing of evidence from the Windham shooting incident.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry for the delay in getting out there. It’s been a busy day.”
“Understandable. I’m at the hospital with the owner of the van,” he said. “Would it be possible to get an update?”
“Not much to share. I handled the transportation and impounding of Mrs. Carr-Cavanaugh’s vehicle. The shooter did quite a number on it. Other than severe cosmetic damage, strangely, it’s still running. We’ve also collected casings.”
“I appreciate that.” The deputy’s response sounded a little dramatic compared to what he’d seen, but then maybe she’d not had as much experience with shootings as he had over the years. “Would you please transfer the evidence to my contact at Denver PD? He’ll handle the processing for our team.”
“Absolutely.”
Bennett provided Deputy McClintock DPD’s crime lab technician Eduardo Gomez’s information. “I’d also like to have my K-9 go through the van again once the doctor releases Mrs. Carr-Cavanaugh.”
“Not a problem. Just advise the case number and show your credentials to the guard at the entrance if I’m not here.”
“Thank you.”
Bennett disconnected and got to his feet. He strolled through the hallway, where cheerful baby decorations filled the space. When he reached Naomi’s door, he rapped softly. He got no response and gently pushed open the door.
Naomi lay on her side, eyes closed, breathing evenly.
He retreated and walked back to the empty waiting room. His cell phone vibrated as he sat down.
Isla’s contact information popped up on his screen.
The moment of truth.
Bennett swiped to answer. “What do you have for me?”
FOUR
Naomi glanced around the hospital room, relieved she was alone, then checked her cell phone on the bed table. She’d napped for more than an hour. No sign of the detective. Good. Maybe Bennett Ford had gone home and given her a reprieve from his incessant interrogation.
Ted’s appreciation for nonstop crime shows made her wary of the detective’s antics. He’d been tough with her, then befriended her, intending to bait Naomi into confessing she’d killed Peter and the others. She’d recognized his unrelenting determination, etched like the rigid lines in his expression. He believed Naomi was a murderer. After the fact, the urge to remain silent and contact a lawyer had occurred to her. She’d probably talked too much in her resolve to set the record straight.
How did I get into this mess, Lord?
Tears threatened. She’d faked sleep in a cowardly effort not to face her accuser when the detective had returned to her room. After all she’d endured in the past six months, this was one more thing to deal with, and she didn’t have the energy.
The fetal heart rate monitor chimed softly, filling Naomi with worry. If Ford arrested her, what would happen to her son?
As soon as the detective mentioned the Elk Valley High School reunion, Naomi discerned what had drawn her to Peter’s ranch. Zoe Jenkins’s invitation. A part of Naomi wanted to attend, but only as an observer. The greater temptation was to light the invitation on fire and pretend she’d never received it.
Without her consent, Naomi’s thoughts traveled to the night of the dance and the incident Detective Bennett claimed gave her the motive to kill. She’d fallen prey to Trevor Gage by her own childish, impossible crush. How ridiculous to believe the town’s golden boy would want anything to do with someone like her. But when Trevor asked her to the dance, she’d practically jumped out of her skin with delight. She’d spent all day getting ready and arrived with stars in her eyes. Until Trevor’s pack humiliated her and she’d run home crying. Her only happy memory of that night was Evan’s attempts to console her.
She thought about the note the killer had left stabbed in their chests. Didn’t it say something about how they deserved it? Trevor’s despicable friends had triggered someone’s murderous hatred. Except sweet, thoughtful Peter wasn’t like them. Whether he’d participated in the prank to any degree, and she doubted he had, he was her friend. She’d preferred his company over the snobby girls who befriended her, only to reject her on a dime.
Naomi caught her reflection in the fetal monitor, revealing the rat’s nest her hair had become. She pushed herself upright in the bed, tugged off her hair tie and then finger-combed the strands. Another unwelcome memory returned, reminding Naomi of an incident in the school bathroom. She normally avoided going in when the cheerleaders were there, but they’d come in after her, and she was cornered. One of them, whose name escaped Naomi’s mind, had rudely suggested Naomi color her hair to get rid of the “mousy bland brown” to blond or red. Until that moment, Naomi had liked her hair. When she told her mother about the comment, she’d brushed her long locks, cooing about the color, soft and tawny, like a fawn. Sorrow constricted Naomi’s heart.
She gasped at little man’s impatient kick to the ribs. “You’re right. That was a long time ago.” Her hand gently stroked the place where her infant’s foot pressed against her skin. “Thank you for the reminder, Lord,” she prayed aloud.
Talking with the detective reactivated too many buried memories that refused to be ignored. She’d never regretted moving away from Wyoming and starting a life in Colorado with Ted. Even with the assortment of abundant troubles toward the end of their marriage, she was grateful for the pleasant years they’d had before things spiraled downhill. She’d cling to those and not the sad parts. As Daddy would’ve said, Too much hindsight masks the future in could’ve-beens.
Her thoughts shifted to the last couple from her evening tour. They were kind, as Naomi imagined her parents would’ve been, had the car accident not cut their lives short. They’d regaled her with tales of their eight children and fifteen grandchildren. The woman had shared excruciating details of delivering each of her babies. Naomi grinned. She could have done without that.
It happened more often than not. Strangers found it necessary to share their gruesome birthing experiences and attempted to rub her belly while she was standing in line at the store. As though she wore a giant sign with Pet Me on it.
Naomi chuckled softly. She loved talking with her customers. Since Ted’s absences were masked as busyness at first, then marital separation and subsequent death, the silence in her home was deafening. “You’ll fix that, though. Won’t you, sweetie?” She cooed, rubbing her taut belly.
Her son wriggled in agreement with two quick kicks. “Come on, little man, I know you’re squished in there but that’s not fun for mommy.”
Soon, the months of loneliness would end, and she’d hold her precious gift from God. Tears stung her eyes. Unless Detective Ford arrested her for murder and charged her with possessing illegal narcotics.
Why would someone hide drugs in her van? If she couldn’t get the detective to listen to her and search for the truth, how would she convince him of her innocence? Would the charges alone cost Naomi her baby? The tour bus company? Would she lose her license?
Naomi’s pulse increased, and the fetal monitor beeped, reminding her of the urgency.
Her life had spun out of control.
The door opened, jolting her to the moment. An unfamiliar man entered, then pushed the door closed. He was tall, and the white doctor’s jacket he wore over blue scrubs seemed too tight against his husky stature. He wore bulky, dark-rimmed glasses. A surgical mask covered the lower half of his face, but the menacing look in his dark eyes bore through Naomi. A small scar trailed over his left eyebrow, deep and thick.
Her instincts blared. This was no doctor.
Naomi gasped, leaning hard against the pillow. Her hand slapped at the bed coverings, seeking the call button remote.
At last, her fingers grazed the thick cord.
The device hung on the side of her bed.
Out of reach.
Naomi maintained eye contact with the intruder while inching the remote closer. It thwacked the bed rails, demanding his attention.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He closed the distance between them in two long strides.
“What...what...do you want?” Naomi’s stammered question exposed her fear.
“Only what belongs to me.” The man’s voice was a deep growl, vicious and terrifying. He stepped closer, blocking her escape, and lifted his hand. The light bounced off the large blade he produced from his doctor’s jacket. “Scream, and it’ll be the last sound you ever make.”
Naomi swallowed hard, instinctively moving her hands to cover her belly.
A rapping on the door caught their attention. The man spun as though unsure what to do. He backed up, placed a finger against his lips and ducked into the bathroom, hidden from sight.
Naomi was certain he was watching.
Another rap on the door.
“Come in,” she squeaked.
The kind nurse who had spent most of the visit attending to Naomi entered, leaving the door ajar. “Time for another check. If you haven’t made any progress, the doctor will release you. Then you can chalk this adventure up to Braxton-Hicks contractions.”
Naomi’s throat went dry. How could she warn the nurse without endangering them both?
In response to her unspoken question, she spotted the man surreptitiously slipping out of the room, undetected.
* * *
Bennett exited the restroom and dodged to the right to avoid colliding with a young man sprinting around the corner. “Whoa,” Bennett said.
“Sorry. I’m looking for room 242. They admitted my wife already and it’s our first baby and I’m all turned around.” The man’s rapid-fire speech paused for a second.
“It’s behind you. The numbers go up from here. You want the other hallway.” Bennett gestured to the closed double doors separating the hospital’s new wing.
“Great. Thanks.” The man spun on his heel and hurried past Bennett.
After making a ridiculous number of laps around the waiting area to force himself to stay awake, Bennett had the hospital layout memorized.
He walked toward Naomi’s room. He’d done his best to give her the rest she’d needed. The last thing he wanted was to be the reason she went into early labor. He reached Naomi’s door, nearly colliding with the on-call female doctor approaching from the hallway to his left. “Hi there. I’m headed in to examine Mrs. Carr-Cavanaugh.”
Bennett wasn’t sure what that entailed, but he felt confident Naomi wouldn’t appreciate him intruding in on that moment. “Oh, I uh...” Words failed him.
“You can come in with me or wait until she’s finished, whichever you’re more comfortable with,” the doctor said.
Grateful for the excuse, he replied, “I’ll wait out here.”
“No problem. I’ll wave you in when I’m done.”
Bennett took the opportunity to call Isla while observing Naomi’s door. Not that he’d expected the shooters to follow them to the hospital, but instincts said to remain vigilant.
He dialed Isla’s number. “What’s up, Bennett?”
“I’m killing time and thought I’d check in. Any progress on confirming the alibis?”
“I’m close. So far, she checks out, but I should have it completed by this evening,” Isla replied. “Just waiting for the hospice records to come through. Talk soon.”
The line disconnected before Bennett responded. He glanced at the phone. That wasn’t like Isla, but he’d swamped her with information. Add that to the RMK investigation and Cowgirl’s missing status, and Isla’s shortness was explainable.
From the end of the hall, Bennett spotted the doctor waving him over. “All finished.”
He rose and went to Naomi’s room, rapping on the door.
“Come in,” Naomi called.
He entered to find her fully dressed except for her shoes. “They’re springing you, huh?” As soon as the words escaped his lips, he longed to erase them.
Naomi’s eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. She looked as though she wanted to respond, but the nurse returned with discharge orders in her hand. “You’re a free woman.”
Ugh. They’d both chosen the wrong words.
Naomi averted her gaze. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be, honey. I had awful Braxton-Hicks contractions with my first. They’ll tell you they’re just uncomfortable.” The nurse grunted good-naturedly. “Not hardly. Enough to bring me to my knees.” She winked at Naomi, then addressed Bennett. “Make sure she drinks lots of water and gets plenty of rest.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful parents.” She exited the room.
Bennett’s face warmed.
“Sorry,” Naomi whispered. “I didn’t know what to say when they assumed you were my husband.”
Husband. It had been a long time since he’d even entertained the thought of sharing his life with someone. He studied Naomi, and though he had reason to be irritated, he wasn’t. What was wrong with him? “It’s fine. Easier than saying I’m your arresting officer.”
“Right.”
He helped her with her shoes. “I have good news and bad news.”
Fear complicated her inquisitive expression. “Okay.”
“Good news first, my commander has authorized me to cite you for possession with a medical release.”
“Guess that’s better than going to jail.”
“I’ll give you a ride home.” He wasn’t taking any chances she’d try to get into her van.
“What about my van?” she asked as though reading this mind.
“That’s the bad news. Douglas County Sheriff’s Department impounded it, and it’s too late to get in there tonight.”
“I’ll cancel my tours for tomorrow.” Naomi hung her head. “I’ll have to refund everyone’s money unless I can get Addy to cover for me.”
“Who is that?”
“Adeline Everett owns Mile High Town Tours.” Naomi exhaled. “My competitor.”
Bennett wrote the name on his notepad, intending to ask Isla to follow up on it later. “Are you friends?”
“Sort of,” Naomi replied. “More like frenemies. It’s a complicated relationship.”
“How so?”
“We offer the same services and comparable prices, which puts us on opposite ends of the competitive spectrum.” She tilted her head. “At the same time, she’s the perfect one to help in situations like this. And we’ve worked out an agreement for when the baby comes.”
Bennett considered the information. Would Addy have reason to eliminate Naomi’s business? “Does she get all the profit? She’ll be doing the work, but she’s also getting your customers.”
“Most of the profit. We agreed on an eighty-twenty split.” Naomi shrugged. “It’s better than nothing when I’m unable to work.”
The agreement didn’t seem fair to Bennett. Addy was taking advantage of Naomi’s vulnerability, especially if she’d booked the tours prior. But what did he know about the tour business? He quirked a brow and tucked the notepad into his pocket.
Bennett might sympathize with Naomi, except he wasn’t the one who’d hidden illegal drugs. “I need to pick up Spike,” he said, diverting the conversation before he offered to comfort a possible criminal. He held open the door, allowing her to exit first.
Then he led her down the hallway to the elevators.
“Can I go with you?” Naomi’s demeanor had changed. She seemed skittish, hugging her purse close to her body.
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“What? Why?” She spun to look behind her.
“Because you’re a little jumpy.”
What had happened in the time she’d spent in her room? Had she had nightmares? Did the person she was holding the drugs for contact her? Irritation wove through him. He’d considered the possibility of her innocence in this mess. Once more, he was wrong.
They wordlessly walked to the security office on the main level. A large sign posted on the closed door instructed them to push the buzzer for assistance. Bennett depressed the button, which emitted a horrendous buzz that must’ve startled Naomi, because she jerked and bumped into him with an apologetic grimace.
A speaker beside the door crackled to life. “Security.”
“Detective Bennett Ford.”
A click announced the lock had released. Bennett turned the knob and pushed the heavy door open. Naomi shifted close behind him. Spike lounged on the loveseat at the far side of the office. At Bennett’s entrance, the beagle jumped up on all fours, wagging his whole body.
