Agent Undercover (3 page)

D
ylan dropped Will off at school—this time walking him all the way to his classroom door—and headed for the hospital. He’d had a restless sleep the night before, and it was all thanks to the pretty blonde woman on the fifth floor saving Will’s life over and over in his dreams. Her twisted bike waited in his garage.

Climbing out of his car, he loped to the front door and made his way upstairs.

The two ladies and one male nurse at the nurses’ station waved as he passed. Walking down the hall, he slowed when he spied someone hanging around Paige’s door. A relative? A friend?

A significant other?

Dylan was unsure whether to keep going or come back another time.

The guy hesitated, placed his hand on the doorknob, then pulled it back as though undecided whether he should enter the room or not. Dylan tried to get a look at his face, but the baseball cap shielded his features as he looked left, then right.

A funny feeling twisted inside Dylan. “Hey, can I help you?”

The man froze, ducked his head and started walking toward the exit. “No thanks, wrong room.”

Dylan watched him push open the door to the stairs and disappear.

His suspicions increased. Something about the guy made alarm bells go off. He walked quickly to the end of the hall and looked into the stairwell. No one was visible.

Shaking his head and telling himself the man may very well have had the wrong room, Dylan decided not to make a big deal out of it. Although, he had to admit, his instincts continued to shout that something wasn’t right.

Arriving at Paige’s door, he pushed away the uneasy feeling, took a deep breath and wiped his damp palms down the sides of his khaki slacks.

Why was he so nervous?

Because he was attracted to Paige. He wanted her to like him. For the first time since his fiancée’s desertion, he cared what a woman thought.

And he desperately wanted to keep her around to see her with Will again. She just might be the key to unlocking the boy’s self-imposed silence. A mixture of self-disgust and humor at his befuddled state of mind nearly had him laughing. But he sobered up and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He entered to find Paige pulling a brush through her hair as gently as possible. The bandage that had been on the back of her head yesterday was gone. He gulped at the zing of attraction that rippled through him. He hadn’t just imagined her beauty. “At least they didn’t have to shave it.”

She gave a chuckle. “No. I think they were more worried about the effects of the bump than the small cut.”

He frowned. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m going home.” She wrinkled her nose. “And before you ask, yes, I feel up to it. I feel much better today than I did yesterday, that’s for sure. No dizziness, still a slight headache, but no blurred vision. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days. I’m not at a hundred percent yet, but—” she shrugged “—I’m getting there.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Dylan smiled. “He’s at school”

“No lasting side effects for him?”

“No. Not this time,” he murmured.

She dropped her arm, the brush clutched in her right hand. “This time?”

Had he said that out loud?

“Will’s mother, Sandra, was killed in a fire almost two months ago. He has nightmares about it from time to time. Last night was peaceful. I checked on him off and on all night, and he slept pretty well.”

Concern clouded her pretty eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about his mother. How awful. What happened?”

Dylan set his jaw. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. For now, do you need a ride?”

She cocked her head at him. “I was going to take a cab.”

His smile reappeared. “All the way from Bryson City to Rose Mountain?”

She flushed. “Oh. How far away are we?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“I guess I’m more used to big-city living than small-town.”

“Which big city are you from?”

“Atlanta.”

A soft whistle escaped him. “Wow, you’re serious when you say big city, aren’t you? What brought you to our little mountain town?”

A frown furrowed her forehead. “Let’s just say I needed a change. The slower-paced lifestyle appeals to me.”

Well, that was good news. That might mean she planned on staying for a while. He lifted a brow. “So? You want a ride?”

“Um … sure. Let me just get my things.”

A knock sounded at the door and Dylan moved to pull it open. A large man decked out in green scrubs pushed a wheelchair. He flashed her a bright smile. “Your limo is ready.”

Paige frowned. “I don’t need a chair.”

“Hospital regulations, ma’am.”

Dylan watched the frown slide off to be replaced with resignation. “Fine.”

After she was settled, the three of them left the room. Dylan jogged ahead to get the car and pull it around.

Once Paige was in the passenger seat, Dylan asked, “Where am I going?”

She gave a little laugh—and winced.

He frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, now stop asking. I live on Mockingbird Lane in Knightsbridge Subdivision.”

He lifted a brow. “That’s not too far from where Will and I live.” A surge of elation slid through him at the idea of her living so close to him. Then he wondered why it mattered. But it did. The attraction he felt for her, the connection she seemed to have with Will—both excellent reasons for keeping her nearby.

“So, Dr. Seabrook, you didn’t have to see patients today?”

Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. Grabbing it from the clip on his side, he said, “Hello?”

“Where are you, Dylan?” Margaret, his secretary and friend from church. They’d dispensed with formalities
when he’d hired her after her husband had died of a massive heart attack.

He frowned. “Taking a friend home from the hospital. What’s wrong?”

“I have a young man standing here who said you promised to meet him this morning to give him a reference letter.”

Dylan racked his brain—and found what he was looking for. “I totally forgot. I have it all ready. I just need to print and sign it. Tell him if he can give me about thirty minutes, I’ll be there.”

“You got it. See you then.”

He looked over at his passenger. “Is your head all right? Do you mind if we swing by my office when we get into town?”

She shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“I promised a reference letter for a very promising young man in my church. He wants to get into medical school, and I think he’d make an excellent doctor.”

Thirty-five minutes later, Dylan pulled into the parking lot and noticed one of his partners, Graham Bailey, hadn’t arrived yet. The man was going through a pretty messy divorce and his days seemed to start later and later. Henry Satterfield, his other partner, would field patients until Graham arrived. Dylan had already requested time off to be with Will, so no one expected him to be there.

Dylan entered the building with Paige right behind him. Margaret Rogers, his efficient as always, salt-and-pepper-haired secretary in her early sixties sat at her desk fielding calls. She pointed to the young man sitting in the waiting room.

Two women with toddlers chatted in the children’s corner. A teenager slumped on the couch, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

Dylan nodded and turned to speak when Margaret hung up the phone with more force than needed. He looked back at her. “What is it?”

“Doctor Bailey won’t be in today. He’s sick.” She kept her expression clear, her voice in a monotone, but he could see the disgust in her eyes.

“Okay, let me take care of this, then I’ll … figure something out about Graham.” He made quick introductions. “Paige, Margaret Rogers and Kyle Barrett. Margaret and Kyle, this is Paige.”

Kyle nodded. The women greeted each other while Dylan walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Give me a minute, Kyle. The letter is sitting on my computer, I just need to print it off and sign it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Kyle sat and Dylan made his way down the hall to his office.

Twisting the doorknob, he stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt.

In shock, he took in the mess that had been his spotless office less than twenty-four hours earlier.

The gasp behind him made him turn to see Paige staring over his shoulder. Then she looked up at him and raised a brow. “You either need to fire your cleaning crew or call the police.”

Even after the sheriff arrived, Kyle hovered in the background, eyes wide like saucers. “Looks like the tornado sirens should have sounded.”

While Paige watched the officer take notes on the scene, Margaret clucked like a mother hen, muttering under her breath. Paige listened to Dylan give a statement and clamped her teeth on her tongue. Itching to be a part of the
investigation, she told herself to cool it. That wasn’t going to happen.

But she couldn’t help sidling up next to Dylan and asking, “Who would do this?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. This is crazy.” He gestured to the uniformed man. “Paige, this is a good friend of mine, Sheriff Eli Brody.”

She nodded, then asked, “How did whoever did this get in?”

Eli shook his head. “We’re working on figuring that out.”

Margaret huffed. “Well, I’m usually the last to leave and I always set the alarm.”

Dylan smiled at her. “No one is questioning your competence.” He looked thoughtful and then shook his head.

Paige’s gaze went back to the office. The overturned chair, the dumped drawers. “It looks like someone was looking for something.”

“Sure does.”

Dylan shrugged. “But what? Drugs? Any junkie would know they’re not kept in an office.”

“The drug cabinet wasn’t touched as far as I can tell,” Margaret offered. “I just checked.”

Paige looked at Dylan. “Has anyone threatened you or Will?”

He blinked. “No. Why?”

Okay, that answered that question. “What about your prescription pads?”

Cocking his head, he looked at the sheriff. “Do you mind if I look?”

“I’ve already dusted the desk. Go ahead.”

Dylan walked behind the desk, inserted a small key into the top drawer and gave the handle a tug. Looking in, he shook his head. “Everything’s in order.”

The sheriff blew out a sigh. “All right.”

Paige’s eyes bounced back and forth between the men. Would no one say it? She bit her lip. Should she bring it up?

“You … uh … don’t suppose there’s a connection between the car trying to run Will down and this break-in, do you?”

Both men looked startled. “Why would you ask that?”

She gave a sheepish shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s just weird that both things happened so close to each other.”

Sheriff Brody looked thoughtful. His forehead wrinkled as he ran his hand through his thick dark hair. Intuitive green eyes examined his friend. “You got any enemies, Dylan?”

“No.” He gave a humorless laugh. “No way. I mean, who would do something so awful as to actually try to run Will down?” He looked sick. “That’s just … crazy.”

“Crazier things have been done,” Paige murmured.

He simply looked at her.

“Do you have any patients you’ve made mad recently?” the sheriff asked.

Dylan looked blindsided, she thought, even as she waited for his answer.

He gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t … know. Maybe.”

“Could be you were the intended target with that car. The person who almost ran down Will could have thought you were going to be crossing with him,” Paige said before she could bite her tongue.

Sheriff Brody crossed his arms across his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. “You have some law enforcement training?”

Paige gulped and chastised herself for making such a
rookie mistake. She forced a laugh. “I watch a lot of television. Crime shows are my favorite.”

His eyebrows lowered and he glowered. She could read his thoughts. Great, another cop wannabe.

One day she’d tell him the truth. For now, she was going to shut up. Besides, her head was really starting to pound. Nausea swirled and she knew she needed to lie down. “Dylan, do you think you could take me home now?”

He started. “Sure.” Then looked at the sheriff. “Are you done with me?”

“Yeah.” The man waved a hand in dismissal. “Go on. I’ll let you know if we find anything here.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Holly at the doctor’s office in Bryson City. We’re having our first ultrasound.” He looked extraordinarily pleased to share that information.

Paige smiled through her pain. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He peered closer at Paige then said to Dylan, “She’s not looking so great. You better get some meds in her before she passes out.”

Dylan turned and stopped fast enough to cause Paige to bump into him. Pain exploded through her. As it eased, with her nose buried in his back, she couldn’t help noticing his yummy-smelling cologne. She backed up in a hurry and swallowed hard.

He turned and smiled down at her. “Sorry.” Then he motioned for the young man who’d come to collect his reference letter. “I’m sorry, I can’t access my computer right now. I have a copy of it on my home computer. Is it all right if we try again later?”

“Sure. You’ve got my cell number. Just give me a shout when you want me to come pick it up.”

Dylan and Paige made their way out to his car. She slid in, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and new-car
smell. The sun beat down, warming the interior of the car to an uncomfortable temperature. She lowered her window and he flipped on the air-conditioning. “Sorry to pull you away,” she told him. “My head is really hurting.”

“No problem. I wasn’t doing anyone any good just standing around watching them work.” He shot her a worried look. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”

“No, it’s just a headache.” The nausea had faded.

Red flashing lights jerked her attention to the side mirror. A fire truck approached, sirens screaming. Dylan’s face paled, and his hands clenched the wheel so tight his knuckles went white. He pulled to the side and let the truck fly past. For a moment, he just sat there, not moving.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”