Slow Burn (18 page)

She slipped her hand through his as they
approached the doors. Her hand clenched and her feet faltered
before they could enter the building. She shot him a glance from
underneath her lashes. “You don’t have to come in with me, Ron. I
will be okay. I can handle it from here.”

Accept her offer and run, man.
How he
wished he could, but he couldn’t just abandon her. She might not be
ready to admit it, but she needed him.

“I don’t mind,” he lied. He took a deep
breath and steeled himself as they walked into the building.

The smell assaulted his nose, sounds of
screaming babies and groaning patients hit his ears. His chest
tightened and a cold knot formed in his gut. People with their
ailing loved ones glanced at them, then away. The nurses and the
orderlies hurried past, hardly paying them any attention.

Suddenly, he was twenty years old again.
Then, he’d accompanied his mother to see his father. The old man
hadn’t lasted more than a couple of days. Six months later, his
grandmother Deanne had taken ill. Again, endless trips to the
hospital followed by death.

By the time they reached the ER information
desk, Ron was sweating, his heart pounding.

“Excuse me. Ma’am?” Ashley hailed one of the
people behind the counter. “The ambulance dropped off a Mr.
Kirkland here a few minutes ago. Could you tell us about his
condition?”

“Are you family?” the woman asked, her gaze
moving from Ashley to Ron, then back to Ashley.

“Close family friends,” Ashley answered.
“We’re waiting for Mrs. Kirkland, his wife, to join us and…oh,
there she is.” Her voice ended in a whisper.

Ron watched Ashley hurry toward a thickset
woman in beige pants and a floral blouse. Mrs. Kirkland’s eyes were
puffy and red, as though she’d cried all the way from her home.
When she saw Ashley, relief flashed in her eyes, then a fresh flood
of tears started.

He winced, steeling himself against the pain
in her eyes. More reasons why he hated hospitals were watching the
hopelessness, the frustration and the devastating acceptance in the
eyes of relatives. Ron crossed his arms and wished he could be
anywhere but in here. When that didn’t ease his discomfort, he
turned to the nearest nurse.

“Is it possible to know Mr. Kirkland’s
condition?” The sooner he found out what was going on, the faster
he’d get out of here.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not
possible.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not? This is the
information desk, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, but I can’t tell you the extent
of Mr. Kirkland’s injuries until the trauma team is done with their
diagnosis,” the nurse explained.

“Don’t tell me what you can’t do, miss,” Ron
snapped. “Just get me someone who’ll give me answers.” He glared at
her, until the nurse left. The two remaining nurses stared at
him.

“Ron? What’s happening?” Ashley asked from
behind him.

He pasted a smile on his lips and prayed she
didn’t notice the sweat on his forehead then turned to face her.
Tears trembled on her lashes and her lower lip quivered. He wanted
to haul her in his arms and take away her pain. Helplessness washed
over him and it didn’t sit well with him. His gaze swung to Mrs.
Kirkland, who was holding onto Ashley’s arm. He wished he hadn’t.
Her hopeful gaze was locked on his, as though he had the answers
she sought. The ache in his gut intensified. His mother had worn
the exact expression just before the doctors gave her the news.

Ashley touched his sleeve. “Ron?”

He released a ragged breath. “I’m trying to
find out your uncle’s condition.”

“Thank you.” Ashley patted Mrs. Kirkland’s
arm. “This is Sonya Kirkland. Sonya, my friend, Ron Noble.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry we’re meeting under such
unpleasant circumstances,” he said with a brief nod. “I hope your
husband will be okay.”

“Thank you. My Jerry’s too stubborn to let
this bring him down,” Mrs. Kirkland answered in an unsteady voice,
then pressed a handkerchief against her mouth. She threw a glance
at the nurses, then back at Ron. “They don’t know how he’s
doing?”

Ron gave the crowded room a sweeping glance.
“They’ve gone to get a doctor. He’ll explain what’s going on.” He
escorted Ashley and Mrs. Kirkland to secluded chairs away from the
information desk.

While Ashley consoled the older woman, Ron
sat opposite them. His chest felt constricted. Breathing was
difficult. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but the walls began to close
in on him. The more he waited, the more agitated he became. He took
deep breaths, told himself to relax, breathe and think of something
tranquil. Nothing worked. Damned panic attacks. He thought he’d
learned to control them years ago, yet here he was, on the verge of
passing out.

I can’t. Not when Ashley needs me.

It must have been only five minutes, ten
tops, but it seemed like forever before he jumped to his feet. He
couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll check what’s keeping the doctor,” he
explained when Ashley and Mrs. Kirkland looked at him with wide
eyes.

He marched toward the information desk. The
nurse he spoke with earlier saw him coming and whispered something
to her colleagues. The women took off in two different directions.
He approached the remaining nurse, who was typing something on a
keyboard.

“Excuse me. I have two very worried ladies,”
he waved in the direction he came from, “who would like to know the
condition of their loved one. One of the nurses went to get the
doctor,” he checked his watch, “ten minutes ago. Is there a problem
here?”

An older nurse walked up to him. “No, sir.
There’s no problem. I’m Mrs. Kimball, the ER nurse manager. I
promise you the doctor in charge of Mr. Kirkland will be here any
minute now. Because of the severity of Mr. Kirkland’s injuries, we
had to make sure he was comfortable first.” Then she frowned. “Are
you feeling okay, sir?”

“I’m fine,” was his terse response, although
he was anything but fine. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed
one of the nurses who’d left return.

“The doctor’s on his way,” she said.

“Thank you, Josephine.” Then Mrs. Kimball
smiled at Ron. “Do you need anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you.” He didn’t move away from the
counter. Mrs. Kimball disappeared, and the other nurses continued
with their work but occasionally threw glances his way. He was sure
they dealt with disgruntled relatives all the time; but one who
looked and acted a little deranged, as he was sure he did, couldn’t
be that common. He took a deep breath, then another and another.
His heart was still pounding hard, but at least he could breathe
freely.

“Ron.” Ashley appeared beside him. “Are you
okay? We could hear you from across the room.”

“I hate hospitals,” he said before he could
stop himself.

Her eyes rounded. “Oh.”

There was no time to explain. “Where the hell
is that doctor?”

“He’s with Sonya. It’s bad, Ron. Uncle Jerry
had severe blows to the head. There’s internal bleeding and
swelling, and they don’t know the extent of the injuries. A
neurosurgeon is on his way. They have to operate on him right
now.”

Ron glanced above her head to where Mrs.
Kirkland stood talking to a tall, redheaded man. “How is Mrs.
Kirkland taking it?”

“Very hard. They are very close.” She touched
his arm. “I, uh,” she swallowed and pressed a hand to her mouth,
“I’m going to stay here with her until their son gets here from San
Diego. Sonya already called him.” Her voice broke.

He studied her upturned face, the tears in
her eyes ready to fall. He wanted to touch her, pull her in his
arms and comfort her, but she would feel the tremors coursing
through him and ask for an explanation. He wasn’t in the mood to
explain anything.

“What else did the doctor say?” Instead of
answering him, Ashley looked away. He nudged her face toward him
with his forefinger and lifted her chin. “Tell me.”

“The doctor said he slips in and out of
consciousness,” she whispered. “He also has broken ribs, fractured
limbs. The person who attacked him meant to kill him.”

“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and
tried to absorb the tremors surging through her body. So what if
she knew about his weakness? They shared so much already.

It was a while before he leaned back and
wiped a wayward tear on her cheek. Funny enough, having her in his
arms, concentrating on easing her discomfort, calmed him down.
“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s keep Mrs. Kirkland company until her son
gets here.”

“No.” She stepped out of his arms. “Go on
home and rest. You need it.” When he shook his head, she added,
“Ron, Aunt Sonya is a very private person, and despite your help
today, you’re a stranger to her.”

He understood what she was saying but knew it
wasn’t right. He needed to be here for her. He knew he was grasping
for straws when he said, “What about the police? They’ll want to
talk to you.”

She shrugged. “I can handle them on my own,
Ron, and you know it. Quit coming up with excuses. Go home and get
some sleep. Besides,” she leaned closer to him to whisper, “Your
grouchiness scares the nurses.”

Ron caught the nurses’ stares, shrugged and
turned to Ashley. “Will you call me when the operation is over?
You’ll need a ride home.”

She tilted her head and gave him a sweet
smile. “Sure.”

He studied her face and scowled. “You’re not
going to call, are you?”

“No. You need sleep, Ron, and I don’t know
how long Sonya is going to need me. But thanks for being here. We
probably wouldn’t have talked to the doctors this soon if it
weren’t for you.” She reached up and kissed his cheek, then put
more space between them. “At least Uncle Jerry gave me the doctor
the description of the biker. That’s the first thing I’ll tell the
cops when they get here.”

It took him a full five seconds for what
Ashley said to register. “Kirkland was being followed by a guy on a
bike?”

“Yes.” A frown chased across her brow.
“Didn’t I mention it before we left the house?”

“No, you didn’t.” Could he be the same man
who’d followed him? “What did he say about the biker?”

“He said the man wore large aviator glasses
and had a beard.”

Sounded like the same person. But why would
someone who’d been tailing him go after Kirkland? He must call
Kenny’s office and find out what they’ve learned. Kenny’s people
were supposed to be investigating the biker while the P.I. was out
of town.

Ron took Ashley’s hands in his and peered
into her eyes. “Listen to me, babe. I want you to call me before
you leave the hospital, okay?”

“I already told you, Ron, that’s not
necessary. I can get a ride.”

His grip tightened. “This is important. I
need to see Kenny’s people about something, then you and I must
talk.” He was going on a hunch here, but he needed verification
before discussing anything with her. “Promise me you won’t leave
the hospital without me.” The urgency in his voice must have gotten
through to her because she nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you later.” Ron pivoted on
his heels then started for the door. After a few steps, he stopped
and walked back to her. He tucked the wayward strands behind her
ears, cupped her cheeks and gave her a brief, possessive kiss.
“Later.”

This time, he made it to the door without a
backward glance. As soon as he reached the outside, he took a deep
cleansing breath, then speed-dialed a number. “Kenny, Ron
here.”

“Hey, when are you getting back?” his friend
answered grimly. “I have some news for you.”

He could always count on ol’ Kenny, but his
tone indicated his news wasn’t good. “I’m back, my friend, as of
five o’clock this morning. Where are you?”

“My office. Got back a few hours ago.”

“What do you have for me?”

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to your
mother’s former lawyer. He’s missing. The wife went to visit their
daughter in Sandpoint, Idaho, a week ago. He was to drive there a
few days later but didn’t show. He’s been gone a little over
forty-eight hours. There’s a search going on, and the local police
have him listed as missing.”

Ron shook his head. “You don’t think he’s
merely lost, do you?”

“No. He grew up in northern Idaho, no reason
for him to miss a turn and not find his way out.”

“Let’s hope nothing serious happened to
him.”

Kenny let out a snicker. “Yeah. Also, one of
my men followed the biker to the underground parking garage of
Valley Towers.”

That was Kirkland’s office building. A
thought occurred to Ron. If he’d known about this before today,
Kirkland would not be in the hospital fighting for his life. Just
thinking about it left an acrid taste in his mouth.

“He appeared to be casing the place,” Kenny
added, cutting into Ron’s thoughts.

“He was.” He quickly explained about the
attack on the lawyer.

“Damn. I hope he’ll be okay.” There was a
pause, then, “After the biker left the Towers, my guy followed him
to Sunset Marquis Hotel.”

Ron scowled. His uncle always stayed at
Sunset Marquis whenever he was in Los Angeles, and his last visit
hadn’t been different. Could his uncle have lied about the guy on
the bike not working for him or sabotaging his investigation? His
uncle was a cantankerous hard-ass, but could he hire a thug to
physically harm people? Ron shook his head. After their last
meeting, he was convinced the old man was capable of doing anything
to prevent him from knowing the truth about his father.

“Did your man see the person the biker met at
the hotel?” he asked the detective as a valet pulled up with his
truck.

“No, but I’m about to leave my office to meet
the person who might know that answer, a custodian at the
hotel.”

“Good.” Ron tipped the guy and entered his
truck. He wanted that information too, just in case the person the
biker met turned out to be his uncle. “Do you mind if I tag along,
man?”