Risk of a Lifetime (3 page)

“She was only eight. A thing like that sticks with a kid.”

“Hell, do you think my childhood was a damn picnic? Not hardly. Doesn’t mean I didn’t have to grow up and stop making excuses long enough to move forward.” JB quirked the side of his mouth with a sarcastic grin. “Or in my case, move out of town.”

Sadie set her hands on her hips, a mirror of Betsy earlier. “So move back.”

“I’m sorry, Sadie, but that’s not even on my radar.” JB shook his head and headed for the waiting room. There was no way to explain to anyone how much he needed the excitement of the chase and apprehension that went along with his career. He was good at what he had become—a loner who got the job done. Sure there were times he ended up in a bad situation, but he always found a way out. Worked smarter the next time. Got stronger.

Did he think he was invincible? Hell, no. But he knew he’d fight to the end. The day he finally went down and didn’t get back up, no one would say he hadn’t given everything he had. No big deal. That was the risk he faced every day.

After all, what good was life without a little risk?

Chapter Three

The morning nurse shooed JB out of Marcy’s room so she could change her bandages and give the bed a quick clean-up. He took the opportunity to grab some breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. Focused on his third cup of strong, hot, black coffee, his eyes were at least open.

Last night had been long and uncomfortable in the recliner next to her bed. He’d spent most of the time calming her moans and scared mutterings. Even with medications, she still tossed and turned. Might even help if they took her off some of the pain killers.

He didn’t like sitting around doing nothing. The nurse had said to give her an hour. By his watch, that hour had come and gone fifteen minutes ago. Time to get back. Marcy’s scream met him as he turned the corner. He charged through the door to her room.

A man stood next to her bed while she flailed her arms at him. Blood trickled from the IV in her hand. The man lowered his forearm across her chest, and she clawed at his face.

JB grabbed the man from behind and flung him across the room. Dropped him to the floor with one swift maneuver. Braced his hand and arm against the back of the intruder’s head and dug his knee into the man’s back. “Don’t even think about moving.”

Dr. Crowley charged in to the room and pushed the call button. “Get security down here stat. And a nurse.”

“Cool it, JB. It’s me.” The man on the floor didn’t fight back. “Agent Landon.”

JB eased his hold. “Landon? When did you get to town? Better question, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“Trying to find you. Wilson said this job was top priority, so I drove in last night. I thought you might be able to help when I interview this Leon guy.” The man stood up, brushed himself off. “One look inside the door told me something was wrong. She was ripping at her IV. Banging her head against the side rails. Already had the oxygen tube tossed away.”

“Help me. Help me.” She backpedaled on the mattress. Her feet slipped. She got nowhere.

The doctor worked to calm Marcy down as the nurse cancelled security.

JB rushed to her side, lowered the bedrail, and climbed in beside her. “You’re okay, sugar. Everything’s okay.”

She clutched at his shirt as he folded her in his arms.

“I’m right here, Marcy.” He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. He needed to stop doing that. And for damn sure stop calling her sugar.

“JB?” Her breathing slowed as her body wilted against his. “Am I okay? Did you get him?”

He gripped her closer. “You’ll be fine. Your IV needs a little repair work, though.” He fingered the blood on top of her hand where the needle dangled from the tape strapped across her skin.

The nurse rushed to her side and worked to stop the bleeding.

Landon approached the end of Marcy’s bed, and she cringed, grabbing onto JB tighter. The fear on her face made him take a second look at the man.

Tall and built like a defensive center, Landon could be an imposing presence. Never mind his squarer-than-square jaw, a twice-broken nose, buzz-cut hair, and heterochromic eyes—one blue, one brown. Even with his tinted contacts to correct the coloring, his look disconcerted a lot of people the first time they met him.

“Could be she simply had a reaction to the medication.” The nurse re-hooked tubes to the machines. “Happens.”

The doctor nodded.

JB worked to remain objective. What was she seeing? What had happened before he burst into the room? Hallucinations? Delirium? Something had her terrified.

“This is FBI Agent Dwight Landon. He’s here to help with the bank case.” JB soothingly palmed her cheek and glanced at his previous work associate. “This is Marcy Bradley. My ex-wife.”

Landon reached out his hand. “I figured as much. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bradley.”

“Marcy. Just Marcy.” Her voice trembled as she pushed herself up further in the bed, moaning with each little move.

She scrunched her legs against herself. Like a frightened child, she eased her hand into JB’s. One look said she was seriously afraid. Like victims he’d consoled right after a vicious attack. Terrified. Panicked.

His instincts revved, focusing on Landon. “How did you know this was Marcy’s room?”

“The nurse told me.”

Dr. Crowley stopped his check of the beeping equipment. “Which one?”

Landon’s expression hardened at being questioned. “The male nurse assigned to this room.”

The nurse working on Marcy’s hand glanced up. “There are no male nurses on this floor. This is my room assignment for the shift.”

JB moved closer to the other agent. “Maybe you should explain how you got in here.”

Landon stared at the bedrail and didn’t flinch. “I know you’re upset seeing as how it’s your wife.”

“Ex-wife.” JB countered.

Landon sighed. “Okay, ex-wife. But don’t push me, or you’ll end up with another write-up in your personnel file.”

“Too late. I already quit.”

The agent looked up in disbelief. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

“Gentlemen.” Dr. Crowley stepped between the two men. “Please take this outside the room.”

“First things first,” JB said. “What did this male nurse look like?”

“Six-two. Green shirt. Heavy, black-framed glasses, grey hair, mustache. Pushing a cart loaded with books and magazines. Needles and syringes,” Landon said.

“That sounds more like a volunteer, except he wouldn’t have sharps on his cart. Must have been pens.” The nurse worked at getting the bed sheets back in place. “They all wear a pale green shirt.”

Landon eased his shoulders. “Look, I got off the elevator, and this guy was standing there at the nurse’s counter. I asked where the Bradley room was, and he pointed me in this direction.”

“Without checking the room assignments?”

“The man said he’d just left a book in her room. Then he got on the elevator, and I came down here.”

“No one brought me a book.” Marcy’s focus flitted from Landon’s face to his hands then to his pocket and up again. “You…you tried to hurt me. Said you’d kill me…enjoy killing me.”

“Me?” Landon scowled, picking up a magazine from the rolling tray by the bed. He held it up for everyone to see. “All I did was keep you from getting hurt.”

“He was trying to help you, that’s all.” JB folded his fingers around hers. Her uncontrollable quivering told him she was about to lose control again. Shock couldn’t be far behind.

“I know what I’m saying. He tried to rip my IV out.” Her voice rose in volume and anxiety. Her fingernails dug into his arm. “Don’t leave me alone with him. Please don’t.”

JB had been around enough people who’d shot up to know that someone skewered by a drug reaction responded like this. They’d swear things had happened one way when surveillance clearly showed another.

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s the medicine,” JB said. “They’ve pumped so many meds into you, you didn’t know what was happening.”

“I did know.” She grabbed the doctor’s hand. “Why won’t anyone believe me?”

JB caught Landon’s attention and motioned to the door. “Maybe you should wait for me at the nurses’ desk.”

“Sure thing.” The man walked up beside JB and Marcy. “I hope you feel better soon, Mrs. Bradley.”

Her breath accelerated, coming out in escalating pants. “Go away. Please go away.”

JB pushed Landon aside with his body. What was wrong with the guy? Couldn’t he see his presence upset her? Working his jaw to control his response, JB tempered his words but used his back-off tone to get the point across. “I said wait at the nurses’ station.”

The agent raised his head, staring into JB’s eyes. Challenged.
JB didn’t blink. If need be, he could toss Landon across the room again. Bash him through the door. And kick him down the hallway like a soccer forward scoring a goal. He’d rather not but would if the man didn’t move of his own accord…and soon.

“Now! Right now.” JB pointed to the door. “By the way, when you talk to Leon Ferguson, find out if he saw the shooter. And call Leon’s attorney. He needs to be there before you talk to Leon.”

“Wilson said he already got the clearance to talk to him.” Landon walked out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Marcy’s grip tightened on JB’s hand. “Don’t leave me alone with him. Please. Please. I know what happened.” Her breathing had leveled, but her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. “Who else would it have been?”

He leaned in close, careful not to jar her wound. “Landon’s never coming back in this room. I promise. You’ll never be alone with him again.”

Sadie pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by Betsy. One look at Marcy’s face, and the two of them rushed to her bedside, barging between the doctor and Marcy.

“What’s going on?” Sadie questioned.

Doctor Crowley shook his head. “Your daughter needs some rest. Time to heal. We’ve got to keep her relaxed.”

“Those drugs are doing a job on her.” JB cringed at the scene he’d witnessed when he walked in the room. Lucky she hadn’t hurt herself worse. “You’re doing more damage than good right now.”

Betsy rubbed her sister’s arm as her mama stroked Marcy’s forehead.

Sadie looked to JB. “Is she okay?”

Marcy’s face flushed. Intensified excitement, imagined or real, meant intensified blood pressure. She pounded the mattress. “No, I’m not okay. Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

The doctor ordered the nurse to restart the IV in the other hand.

“I asked if she’s okay.” Sadie glared at JB.

“She will be.” He didn’t release his hold on Marcy, easing between her and the nurse.

“Move, so the nurse can put the needle back in.” Dr. Crowley scowled, puffing himself up to his full, commanding presence.

Not going to work this time. “What for?” JB asked.

“She needs an IV needle inserted. The staff needs to be able to give her something fast if something like this happens again.” Doctor Crowley scribbled on the chart. “IV’s the fastest way. In fact, I’ve ordered a sedative for her as soon as we get the bag going again.”

“No sedative.” He glanced at Marcy. “Didn’t you tell me once that you had a bad reaction to anesthesia when you had your appendix out? That when they gave you a sedative, things just got worse?”

Marcy nodded in return.

He centered his stare on the doctor. “So no sedatives. You can give her the pain medicine orally.”

She focused her eyes on the doctor also. “I’ll ask if I need anything.”

JB pointed at Marcy’s mama, her sister, and then himself. “One of us will be in this room all the time. Day and night.”

The women nodded. They might not know why, but they knew to follow his lead. Betsy might be mad as hell that he’d come back to Crayton, but even she wouldn’t fight him on anything that had to do with protecting her sister.

JB rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to mid-forearm and tugged them into place. “Doc, you need to go take care of the rest of the hospital. We’ll take care of Marcy.”

…

Once his wife calmed down, JB handed her off to Sadie and Betsy. He needed to get out of the room and calm down. Following up with Landon would at least give him something to do besides being surrounded by women who were all on pins and needles with him sitting there.

Many times, he saw families in stressful waiting rooms become uncooperative. This was the first time he found himself in that position. Desperate. Pushy. Defensive. He didn’t like the feelings that had raged through his body. Never again would he look at a victim’s agitated family member in the same way.

He shook his head. In less than fifteen minutes, he’d blocked the nurse from her job, made the doctor mad, and ordered another FBI agent out of the room.

Way to go, JB. Way to go.

…

Marcy had stared at the door ever since JB walked out a few minutes ago. So much for thinking she’d never see him again.

It had taken weeks for the lawyer to track JB down when she’d sent the divorce papers. Then, out of the blue, the papers arrived back, signed. The FBI’s only comment had been to say they didn’t disclose the whereabouts of their undercover agents. After her attorney had left the papers with her that day, on the promise she’d sign and get them back to him for filing, she’d sat down in JB’s chair and bawled herself to sleep.

That had been over a year ago. And she’d been perfectly fine all by herself.

Then last week, when she’d first heard he would be back in town to settle his dad’s estate, she’d thought about taking a trip. Why hadn’t she followed through on that idea? Gone over to the lake. Booked a room for a couple of days at the fancy-shmancy lakefront hotel. Instead, she’d opted for a highly unlikely chance encounter. Now, look where that had landed her.

Sadie brushed Marcy’s hair back from her forehead with a damp cloth. Offered her a cold drink of water. Rubbed lotion on her hands and arms. The tension from her body began to ease.

“Thanks.” The motherly attention felt good to her today.

All the while, Betsy had stood looking out the window. Her sister didn’t like hospital rooms…too many memories from her time spent in one years ago. Yet here she was being part of what the three women had always been. Strong and always there for each other.

Sadie sat back down in the chair by the bed. “What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing.” Marcy shook her head, making the room spin for a moment with her grogginess. “Nothing at all.”

“You’ve got to tell him.” Betsy turned and walked to the bedside, leaning over the rail. “As much as I dislike JB, he deserves to know.”

Marcy turned away. This couldn’t be happening. Her life had been perfect just a little over twenty-four hours ago. Well, maybe not perfect, but at least it was what she had decided to make of her life. She’d gone her own way. He’d gone his.

If the people who knew her secret—Sadie, Betsy, her uncle Sheriff Davis, and her church deacon, Dr. Crowley—just kept quiet for as long as JB was in town, everything would be fine. With luck and a little time, she could set everything right.

“You understand, don’t you, Mama?” She stared into Sadie’s eyes.

Her mama sighed, lifting her lips into a weak smile. “I understand you made a choice that’s turned into a messy situation. Agreed?”