The Doctor's Defender (Protection Specialists Book 3) (9 page)

“I’ll be right here,” she said, her gaze distant now, as if she’d put an invisible wall between them.

He stepped out onto the back porch and moved away from the glow of the porch light. Night had fallen. The outside lights illuminated the backyard and the incline leading to the dock. The moon rose over the horizon and shone brightly on the water’s surface. Small gusts of wind rattled through the trees. Kyle called the police and waited for Lebowitz to come to the phone.

“Mr. Martin, has there been another attempt on Dr. Storm’s life?”

“No,” Kyle was quick to assure the detective. “Where are you in the investigation?”

“Haven’t progressed much.” Kyle could hear the frustration in the detective’s voice. “The crime-scene techs didn’t find anything useful at Dr. Storm’s apartment or at the hospital. Whoever is behind these attacks is careful.”

A professional most probably, then. A hired hit man. “Have you looked into the family involved in the lawsuit against Dr. Storm?”

“I have. So far nothing to suggest they are the ones trying to hurt the doctor. I’ve scoured their financials looking for payouts. Nothing.”

“Contact her parents.” Kyle turned to watch Brenda through the kitchen window. She wiped at the counters with a sponge. “Apparently they’ve set her up on some ‘dates’ over the past year. Maybe one of them had their nose bent out of shape when she didn’t show interest. One in particular, a Roger Harmon.”

Kyle went on to tell him about Roger Harmon showing up in Winthrop Harbor and meeting him at the grocery store. Coincidence? Or something more nefarious? But there was no way for anyone to know where they were or to connect Brenda to Felicia. Or Kyle to Felicia for that matter. Only his boss and sister knew Felicia or where to find her.

“Will do.”

“Keep me informed of any developments,” Kyle said and hung up.

The fine hairs at the back of his neck prickled as the sensation of being watched swept over him. He spun around. Apprehension slithered down his spine. The presence of an unseen menace whispered to his senses. The threat seeped into his bones.

His gaze searched the surrounding trees, the dark path leading to the water. Was someone out there?

Straining to listen for any telltale signs, he held his breath. The only sound he heard was the slapping of the waves against the dock, the wind sighing through the treetops. Shadows danced in slivers of moonlight. He withdrew his weapon and stepped down the porch stairs into the darkness.

* * *

Brenda wrung out the sponge she’d used to clean the countertops. Her hands used more force than necessary. Water sprayed from the porous fibers and splattered the front of her shirt. She rolled her eyes and tossed the sponge into the sink.

Her head was filled with so much confusion. She couldn’t deny her attraction to Kyle or the connection flowing between them. Her heart ached at the pain she heard in his voice as he talked of his past, of his sister. His twin. Their suffering made her want to weep. Which was so unlike her. She normally wasn’t overly emotional, didn’t cry at sappy commercials and didn’t sigh over puppies or babies. Suffering was part of the human condition. As a medical professional, she worked hard to counteract the ravages of disease and age, but she’d never understood or accepted the cruelty that pervaded humanity.

She didn’t know how to help Kyle overcome the guilt he carried for what his father had done to his sister. It wasn’t right that he should feel that way. But she had no way of helping him. Her specialty ran to the physical, the internal organs, not psychology or emotions.

She wondered how he could cling to his faith. Questions hammered at her.

Where had God been when Kyle’s sister was suffering abuse?

Where was God now that her own father’s body was being ravaged by disease?

The questions ricocheted off the walls of her brain, making her head ache. To find answers she’d have to admit to believing in God. She supposed she did believe in an abstract way, mostly from her upbringing. But not in a concrete, know-it-in-your-gut kind of way.

She replayed Kyle’s prayer in her mind. He’d asked for healing. Peace and comfort. Would God hear the request? Did she dare believe He might?

She spun away from the sink, checked on the casserole again before seeking out Felicia. She found her in the living room, measuring the front window.

Felicia smiled when she saw Brenda. “I was thinking of putting in some wooden blinds over this window to give the room a more rustic feel. What do you think?”

“I think wood blinds would add a lot to the room.”

Felicia set the tape measure down. “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. You have bigger worries than whether I should redecorate.”

“You’re not selfish at all,” Brenda was quick to reassure her. “I appreciate that you’re letting us stay here for a few days.”

“Kyle said your father is ill. On top of everything else, I can’t imagine how worried you must be,” Felicia said.

As much as Brenda hated that someone wanted her dead and that two people had already died, the situation had kept her from dwelling too much on her father’s sickness. If she weren’t hiding out here, she’d be there at his side, whether he wanted her there or not. But staying away for now was what was best. Though being distracted didn’t keep the worry from wreaking havoc with her insides.

“It is hard.” Brenda tried for a smile, but failed. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Felicia gave her a hug.

Brenda received the embrace with a wave of longing for her mother.

When Felicia let her go, she said, “I’ll go freshen up.”

Brenda returned to the kitchen. She took the casserole out of the oven and placed the dish on a wire rack to set. She looked around. Kyle wasn’t back. Was he still on the phone?

Or had something happened to him out there? No. She wouldn’t let herself think that way. He was capable and strong and would keep them safe.

To busy and calm herself, she set the table and then gathered the trash bag from under the sink. She stepped out the kitchen door. The porch was empty. Kyle was nowhere in sight.

A prickling of unease made her frown. She dismissed it as paranoia. She had every right to be jumpy. She walked down the porch stairs and around the corner of the house to put the trash bag in the big garbage bin.

The stillness of the night was broken by a noise behind her. Terror slammed through her mind and jump-started her heart. She whipped around, the trash-can lid clutched in her hand like a shield.

Kyle stepped out of the shadows. Moonlight splashed across his face, lighting up his blue eyes and emphasizing his strong jawline. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lowering the lid, she took a deep breath to still her pounding heart. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’ve done a perimeter sweep. All clear.”

Good to know. “I meant with your call.”

“I talked to Lebowitz. Whoever is after you is careful, experienced. They didn’t leave any prints or particulates behind.”

She didn’t like the sound of that: no evidence meant no leads, which meant the investigation might be at a standstill. She fought back a little rise of panic. “What does that mean for the investigation?”

His jaw tightened. “It means we may be dealing with a hired killer.”

She flinched as fear grabbed hold of her and squeezed the air from her lungs. “Which means the investigation might be more difficult, given we could be dealing with a professional?”

“Possibly.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Don’t try to minimize this,” she said. “I need you to be honest with me.”

He canted his head to the side. “All right. I won’t try to minimize.”

“Thank you.”

He stepped closer and put a firm arm around her shoulders. “Focus on the fact that you know I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

She wanted to believe him. Needed to believe he’d keep her safe, if she wanted to stay sane and make it through this nightmare.

They reentered the house. Kyle locked the door behind them. They sat down to eat, and she was happy her beginner cooking skills had helped her turn out a better-than-expected meal. And by the contented sighs and nearly empty serving dish, Kyle and Felicia agreed.

“Coffee, anyone?” Brenda asked.

Felicia shook her head. “Not for me. I need to sleep tonight.”

“I’ll take some,” Kyle said.

Brenda rose from the table and moved toward the cupboard.

A loud bang and the sound of metal crashing against metal came from outside, just below the kitchen window.

She froze. Breath-stealing fright invaded her.

Kyle jumped from his seat. “Get down.”

Brenda crouched where she was, her heart slamming against her ribs, her breathing turning shallow. Felicia slid off her chair and covered her head with her hands. Kyle flipped off the kitchen lights. With his weapon drawn, he ran out the back door.

Worry that something might happen to Kyle sharpened the fear stabbing at Brenda. A prayer rose unbidden from the depths of her soul.
Please, God, keep him safe.

EIGHT

K
yle waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Without the glow of the porch light, he had only the moon to guide him across the porch and down the stairs. Keeping close to the house, he moved toward the sound of movement coming from around the corner near the garbage cans. He reached inside one of the pockets on his cargo pants and brought out a small Maglite. Steadying his breath, he cleared the corner of the house as he flipped the flashlight on.

Near the toppled garbage cans, two sets of beady eyes glowed brightly behind dark masks.

Raccoons.

Kyle let out a small laugh of relief.

The animals hissed, drawing him away from the sensation of danger raising the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

“Get!” Kyle shooed at them.

The beasts ran away into the shadows.

After cleaning up the mess and making sure the lids on the cans were secure, he headed back inside. He opened the door to the kitchen and flipped on the light. “Everything’s okay.”

“What was that noise?” Brenda asked, her voice echoing with alarm. She was sitting with her back against the cupboards, her knees drawn to her chest.

Holding out his hand, he helped her to stand. “Just a couple of raccoons. They’d gotten into the garbage.”

She blew out a breathy laugh. “That’s a relief. I must not have put the lids on the cans tight enough.”

Kyle moved to help Felicia rise from beneath the table. “Pesky nuisances, those raccoons. At least it wasn’t a skunk. There have been quite a few in the area lately.” Felicia patted his arm. “Glad you’re here to protect us.” She stepped around him. “I’ll finish up the dishes.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Brenda said.

“But I’d like to, dear,” Felicia replied over her shoulder. “You cooked. I’ll clean.”

“Then I’ll say good night.”

Kyle walked her to her room. A stray strand of dark hair had escaped from her bun and fell across her cheek, making her look fragile. She wasn’t. She was tough and brave and kind. He reached up to tuck the strand behind her ear. Her dark eyes flared with a look he recognized as interest, attraction, longing, because he felt it all, too.

Forcing his hand back to his side, he said, “Good night, Brenda. Sleep well.”

For a moment, she stared at him as if his words didn’t make sense, then she blinked and stepped back. “Good night.”

* * *

Wide-awake despite the fact she’d made sure the curtains were closed last night, Brenda checked her watch. The face glowed brightly in the dim room. Ten minutes to seven. She’d hoped for another deep, dreamless night of sleep, but no go.

She’d been too keyed up, both by her awareness of Kyle as a handsome, attractive man and by the fact she’d prayed. Something she hadn’t done since she was a young child. She supposed those long-ago Sunday-school lessons had planted seeds of faith in her heart that she wasn’t aware of. Kyle’s faith had stirred those seeds to life. She didn’t know if they’d grow or wither away.

To distract herself from all the confusion messing with her peace of mind, she’d reached for the bag of peanut M&M’s and the medical-review magazine she’d bought at the store. At the rate she was going, she’d gain five pounds before the weekend was up. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she’d finally drifted off.

She rose and dressed, then made her way down the hall. At the closed door to Kyle’s room, she paused. Should she wake him? Probably. Her shadow wouldn’t be too happy if she left the house without him. She knocked. Nothing. She knocked again. Still no answer. He must already be up.

She went downstairs and entered the kitchen to find Kyle sitting at the table reading from a Bible. His unruly hair was damp, as if he’d recently showered, and his jaw clean shaven. He wore dark cargo pants and a green T-shirt that stretched against his well-defined chest in such a distracting way she forced herself to look at his nose. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. You’re up early.” She smiled as if she were calmer than she was, and then turned to concentrate on making coffee.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” he said.

If she didn’t count how his good looks got to her. “Not at all.” She inhaled the aroma of the dark roast coffee filling the pot. She eyed his Bible sitting next to him. “Doing a little light reading?”

“Morning devotional.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Every morning?”

“When I can, but especially on Sunday mornings.”

She hadn’t realized it was Sunday. Usually she spent the day at the clinic, since it was her official day off at the hospital. She handed him a mug of coffee and then sat down at the table next to him. “You said you didn’t grow up with faith, so when did you...find God?”

“One of my buddies in the SEALs was a believer.” A sad light entered his eyes. “Chase told me about God, helped me to understand my need for faith. The need to read God’s word every day.”

The look of grief stealing over him made her heart pound. “Is he...?”

“Dead?” He nodded stiffly. “Yes. He was killed in action.”

She ached for him, for the loss of his friend. He must feel as if God betrayed him. “And yet you still believe?”

A slight smile curved his mouth. “You think I should blame God for Chase’s death?”

She sipped her coffee, stalling. She didn’t know what to think. This was very confusing for her. Her head told her there wasn’t a God, but deep in her heart those seeds of faith tugged at her to believe. “Don’t you?”

“No. God didn’t pull the trigger on the AK-47 that stole Chase’s life. An insurgent did that.”

She tried to remember more of the lessons she’d learned as a child. “But isn’t part of faith believing that God is in control?”

“God is in control.” He said it with conviction in his tone.

Anguish welled from deep within her. She only wished having faith was as easy for her as it was for Kyle. “If He’s in control, then why did He let your friend die?” Her voice came out harsh, accusatory. “Why does He allow war? Disease?” Her voice cracked on the word.

He set his mug down and reached across the table to engulf her free hand in his much bigger ones. They were warm and callused and electrified, but the compassion flowing through him distracted her and brought tears to her eyes. She blinked rapidly, fighting to hang on to her composure.

“God didn’t make your father sick, Brenda,” he said gently.

Her heart beat rapidly with hope and skepticism. “Can He heal him?”

“I’ve no doubt He could. But healing your father may not be God’s will.”

Not what she wanted to hear. “You said I shouldn’t lose hope that God will heal my father. But yet you’re saying it might not be God’s will to heal him. How can I have hope in God when there’s no guarantee He’ll do as I want?”

“That’s where faith comes in. You have to trust God has a plan. And sometimes that doesn’t line up with what we want.”

She didn’t want her father to suffer, to die. Being a doctor didn’t make her immune to heartache. “It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Kyle stated softly, each word full of pain. “God never promised it would be.”

Guilt swamped her. Kyle had lost his mother to disease, too. And yet he didn’t blame God. “Could comfort really be found in faith?”

“Yes.” Conviction rang in his voice. “Knowing that a loving God cares for me and has a plan for me gives me peace.”

She clung to Kyle’s hand for a moment as a need grew within her that she didn’t understand. She wanted what he had. She wanted to have peace and comfort and faith.

Brenda slipped her hand away from Kyle’s as Felicia entered the kitchen.

“Good morning, my darlings,” Felicia said.

Brenda rose. “There’s fresh coffee brewed. And I can make some eggs if anyone is interested.”

“The smell of coffee lured me out of my bed,” Felicia said, taking a mug from the cupboard. “Toast is all I have time for this morning. I’m off to church. Would you two care to join me?”

The thought of going to church grabbed ahold of Brenda. She hadn’t set foot in a church since she was twelve, when she’d finally told her parents she didn’t want to go anymore. She remembered the hurt on her mother’s face, the disapproval in her father’s eyes. Her gaze sought Kyle’s. “Could we go?”

Surprise brightened the blue of his eyes. “You want to?”

She understood his surprise. She’d made it clear she wasn’t sure about God and faith. But the thought of going to church appealed to her this morning. Maybe because of Kyle’s steadfast faith or their conversation. Maybe because her father was so ill and she needed something, someone, to give her hope. Maybe because her life seemed so empty right now. “Yes. I would like to. If you think it would be safe for us to.”

He contemplated her for a moment. “There’s some risk. If someone else recognizes you and word gets out that you’re in town, it could lead the killer here.”

Anger at this unknown person making her life a living nightmare had her fingers curling. “Running into Roger was a fluke. I don’t know anyone in this town. How about I wear a hat and glasses?”

“Like a celebrity hiding from the paparazzi,” Felicia said.

If only hiding were that simple. But it wasn’t. She couldn’t go back into an operating room until her life was no longer in danger. Brenda waited for Kyle’s decision. She trusted Kyle’s judgment. She’d come to rely on her bodyguard. She was afraid that she was also growing to care for him more than she should, more than was safe.

Kyle gave a slow nod. “But we sit in back and you keep a low profile.”

“I promise.”

* * *

They arrived at the small community church on the edge of town just after the service started. Kyle led Brenda and Felicia in. He scanned the sanctuary quickly, noting the exit doors. They found seats in the very last pew. Brenda sat between Kyle and Felicia. Her face was well hidden behind the large-brimmed sun hat and big round glasses she’d donned before leaving the cabin. Kyle saw a few curious glances from mostly the women parishioners. They probably did wonder if some Hollywood figure was sitting in their midsts. He still had a hard time believing she’d wanted to come to church. Her attitude had been so rigidly against faith just a few days ago. But then again, having someone trying to kill you could put life into perspective. Whatever the case, he hoped she’d find the peace that could only be found in faith.

An older woman with flame-red hair played a piano in the corner. The melody rose from the instrument, a clear and pleasing sound. Taking the hymnal from the pocket of the back of the seat in front of him, he consulted the program and then turned to the hymn the congregation was singing.

He held it so Brenda could read the words. She sang softly, her voice light and airy. He stopped singing to listen to her.

She nudged him.

He grinned and resumed adding his baritone voice to hers. He liked this, liked being with her, and could easily envision a lifetime of Sunday mornings with her.

Whoa! Where had those thoughts come from?

He didn’t want to settle down. He didn’t want to be tied to another person. Thinking of Brenda in terms of a lifetime wasn’t happening. Not today or any day.

When the music ended, the pastor stepped to the pulpit. Young and charismatic, the pastor read from the first chapter of the book of John. Kyle hadn’t realized how starved for the word of God he’d been. Feeling as if his soul was being nourished, he listened while keeping a vigilant eye for anything that could possibly pose a threat to Brenda. At one point he glanced at her. She was listening, really listening. Her expression was intent, her eyes sharp. She was absorbing the words and hopefully the message of God’s love for His people.

When the service ended, Kyle hustled the women to the SUV before too many people had vacated the building.

Felicia sighed. “That was lovely. Thank you, Kyle, for taking us.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at Brenda.

She smiled. “I’m still taking it in.”

“Good enough.” Considering how closed off she’d been to faith not that long ago, any progress was welcome.

“I’d like to call my parents again,” she said. “They haven’t answered the last two times I called.”

He handed his cell over.

By the look of concern on her face, they weren’t picking up. He made a mental note to call Lebowitz when they returned to the house and have the detective check on them.

When they arrived back at the lake cabin, dark clouds hovered on the horizon. The weatherman’s prediction of a storm was proving true. The air grew thicker with humidity. Leaves blowing in the wind swirled in the air.

Kyle opened the front door of the house and stepped inside.

Brenda stepped inside beside him. “Oh, no.”

“My house!” Felicia exclaimed.

The place had been ransacked. The cushions of the couch and two armchairs were shredded, as were the curtains that once hung over the windows. Pictures had been taken down and the glass crushed on the floor.

The destruction was similar to that at Brenda’s apartment. Like a taunt. The egomaniac after Brenda wanted to make sure they knew they’d been found. No doubt about it, the guy had a personal grudge against Brenda to grind.

Kyle reached for his weapon.

Time to retreat. He hustled the women back to the safety of the SUV. One look at the tires sent his blood jolting through his system.

All four tires had been slashed.

Apprehension climbed on his back and rode him hard. Their intruder was close by, and he wanted Kyle to know it. “Back inside, quick.”

Without questioning him, Brenda and Felicia rushed toward the front door. Kyle kept a close watch on the tree line. When they were securely inside, Kyle called 911. The dispatcher said the nearest unit was fifteen minutes out.

Kyle prayed they had fifteen minutes.

* * *

“There’s someone out there,” Kyle said, turning from the window.

The fierce expression on his face made Brenda swallow.

In that moment she saw the warrior, the Navy SEAL expert in underwater demolition.

He wasn’t just a thrill seeker, but a man of action. A man who stood between her and certain death. His hand gripped his weapon with ease.