Authors: Vanessa Kier
Tags: #Romance: Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense: Thrillers, #Fiction & Literature: Action & Adventure, #Fiction: War & Military
They finished loading the truck in uneasy silence.
On the way back to the clinic, Helen tried to ignore the increased tension emanating from MacKay, but nerves still tangoed in her belly. Kwesi and MacKay had come too close to violence back there. Given that MacKay was armed, she had no doubt that Kwesi would have come out the worse for it.
God, she wished she knew if MacKay’s comment about searching for suspicious cargo had been a coincidence or not.
She hoped so. Because she’d never be able to return to her beloved trauma surgery work if word got out that she was linked to smuggling.
STANDING
IN THE hallway of the clinic nearly an hour later, Lachlan was proud that this time he’d barely even flinched when the distinctive smells of the clinic had hit him upon entering. If he’d begun to get over his fear of medical facilities, then perhaps this mission hadn’t been a complete waste of time.
Lachlan had felt a jolt of recognition and anticipation when Kwesi had pulled up in front of the clinic this morning. Kwesi had been the other man in the photograph with Dr. Kirk and the boxes of weapons. Lachlan had hoped that by accompanying Dr. Kirk to the airfield, he’d catch Kwesi engaged in illegal activities.
At the very least, he’d hoped to catch Kwesi lying. Or to force him into letting something slip. Instead, all Lachlan had been able to determine was that Kwesi didn’t like Lachlan, acted aggressively when he felt threatened, and had a business relationship with Dr. Kirk.
Unfortunately, there’d been no sign of the weapons. Lachlan still didn’t trust Kwesi, but it was possible the man was innocent. The pilot, a white man, had been careful to keep his face turned away from Lachlan, raising his suspicions. Tony had been watching the airfield the entire time and would have already sent photos of the man to WAR’s research team. Once they had an ID for the pilot, then perhaps they’d have a better idea what was really going on. Because Lachlan now believed it unlikely that he or Tony would find any weapons before they were extracted.
“Watch out!”
Lachlan flattened himself against the wall of the clinic’s hallway as a worker walked past carrying another box of laboratory equipment. Once the man had entered the lab, Lachlan glanced back toward the waiting room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dr. Kirk. He’d been trying to speak with her ever since they’d returned from the airfield, but after she’d parked the vehicle, she’d hopped out and immediately begun issuing orders to the men gathered by the back door.
Then she’d headed inside. By the time Lachlan followed, she’d disappeared into an exam room.
His suspicions that Dr. Kirk might have pocketed money instead of buying the expensive equipment promised in the clinic’s marketing materials had been proven false when he watched the first box opened and the laborers began to set up something that resembled a microwave oven.
Inside an exam room at the other end of the hall, a woman’s agonized moan switched to a cry of pain. One of the nurses poked her head outside the door. He thought it was Leticia, but couldn’t be certain given the surgical mask covering half her face.
“Dr. Kirk! It’s time!” she called out.
“Coming!” Dr. Kirk emerged from the exam room across the hall. She stripped off her latex gloves, shoved them in the hazardous disposal container attached to the wall, then pulled a clean pair from the dispenser and slipped into the other room through the door Leticia held open for her.
Looking both ways, Lachlan saw that the corridor was temporarily clear. So he stepped into the empty exam room behind him. Unlike last night, today the countertops and drawers held the full range of supplies, including packets of sterile scissors and other implements that might be used as weapons.
So. He’d been correct. The doctor hid her supplies at the end of each day.
Unfortunately, there was nothing illegal in that. But if she had a secret hiding place for the supplies, what else might she be storing out of sight?
Poking his head out of the room, Lachlan waited for another group of workers carrying boxes to file down the corridor. Then he made a beeline for Dr. Kirk’s office.
The file cabinets were, of course, locked, but once again that was little hindrance. He flipped through the file folders that now filled the drawers, randomly pulling them out and checking them for anything suspicious.
Everything was as it should be. The folders contained filled-in patient charts, treatment plans, and notes on patient personalities accompanied by suggestions how best to get each patient to follow the recommended treatment plan.
He moved on to the file drawer in the desk. A folder marked LOAN caught his eye. Hmm. WAR’s background report hadn’t mentioned Layla’s Foundation taking out a loan. Had they run out of money already?
The folder contained only three pages. The first one was a one-page loan agreement between Sani Natchaba as representative of SN Investments and Dr. Kirk as representative of Layla’s Foundation. Lachlan raised his brows at the sum involved. It was much more than he expected would be needed to run the clinic for an entire year.
The second page contained the repayment schedule. The first payment was due next week. The interest rate was high, with a stiff penalty should Dr. Kirk or Layla’s Foundation fail to make any of the twelve monthly payments.
So. Layla’s Foundation needed tomorrow’s grand opening to be a financial success, or they’d never be able to repay the money.
The third page contained the categories of materials that were to be purchased with the funds from the loan. Lachlan skimmed over it, then read it again. His suspicions about the timing of the security upgrades were correct. The list included louvers, security bars, and the reinforced door. Concrete would have been used to anchor the security bars, but could also have repaired holes or cracks in the building.
Either the building had been in terrible shape and this SN Investments had provided the money to fix it up, or the clinic had suffered major, and unreported, damage.
Had the clinic been attacked by the rebels? Aside from the weapons smuggling, Lachlan had no knowledge of active rebel groups in the area. Perhaps the clinic had been damaged in a natural disaster?
He set those questions aside. What he needed to focus on was discovering the location of Dr. Kirk’s hidden storage room. Because any space large enough to hold lab equipment would likely be large enough to hide boxes of weapons.
Lachlan stared into space, chasing a vague memory. The businessman who’d signed the loan papers was the same one Dr. Kirk had mentioned as donating the MP3 players. No one familiar to Lachlan. But he thought he might have seen SN Investments in one of WAR’s reports about funding for the rebels. He pulled out his palm-sized digital camera—his sat phone couldn’t take pictures—and started snapping photos of all the documents. When he had the chance, he’d use his notebook laptop to upload the photos to WAR’s secure server.
He’d just slipped the camera back into his pocket when the door opened and Dr. Kirk stormed in.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Office.” She slapped closed the folder he was looking at.
He rose to his feet, which put him nearly flush against her. Anger reddened her cheeks and her breath came out in furious pants. His body tightened with arousal. He wondered if she’d respond as fiercely to his touch if he slid his fingers across her cheek, cradled her head in his hands, and kissed her.
Shocked by the intensity of his response, he scowled at her.
Wariness replaced Dr. Kirk’s anger. Dropping her gaze to her desk, she backed up two steps, which had the effect of sparking
his
temper. He wrestled both his temper and the urge to kiss her under control, then nodded at the folder. “My boss will be very interested to know that you’re in debt to this paragon of a business man you keep speaking of. Tell me, why did you need such a large infusion of cash?”
“That’s—” The alarm on Dr. Kirk’s watch beeped. She checked the clock on the wall, then cursed. Pushing past him, she quickly refiled the folder and locked the drawer, giving him a pointed look of warning as she pocketed the key. Then she tossed her lab coat over the desk chair and headed toward the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
CRAP
. HELEN SHOULD have told Leticia to leave her files in the underground storage room today. Now she had to think up some way to spin the loan to MacKay so that he didn’t torpedo the clinic’s chances of attracting investors.
“I don’t have time for this now,” she said. “I have a health education class to teach. Please, get out of my way.” She met MacKay’s eyes and took a step forward.
He gave her a mocking half-bow and moved aside.
Excellent. Keeping her head up, she strode into the corridor and toward the front door. MacKay, damn him, trailed behind her like her own personal thundercloud.
“Xetsa,” she called out to the receptionist, “I’m heading to the women’s health class. Tell Leticia that we’re also going over the display for the festival, so if I’m not back in time, she should close up.”
“Yes, doctor. What about the workers?”
“Either Leticia or Theodora should approve the work before they are allowed to leave. But hopefully I’ll be back in time.”
Helen nodded to a woman seated in the waiting area with her three children. They exchanged greetings in the local language, then Helen thanked the woman for bringing the children in for their follow-up shots with Theodora. The littlest one peered curiously at MacKay from the other side of her mother as the older ones stared at him with suspicion.
MacKay certainly didn’t make a good first impression. In fact, if he’d looked at her yesterday with the same heat he’d just shown in her office, she might have given in to her instincts and shot him. She didn’t want to be aware of him as a sexy man. She couldn’t afford any type of distraction right now. Luckily, his imposing presence reminded her of the threat he posed, so her blip of arousal was quickly buried beneath her annoyance and desire to be rid of him as soon as possible.
Knowing that the clinic, at least, was in good hands, Helen hurried to the SUV and got behind the wheel. With the debris from the storm, there was no telling how long it would take to drive up to the former primary school. On second thought, she hoped there was a tree down across the road. She’d ask MacKay to move it, then when the road was clear leave him behind.
“That’s an evil smile you have on your face, doctor.” MacKay commented as he slipped into the passenger seat.
“Of course it is,” she said sweetly. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t elaborate. Instead, she returned her attention to backing the SUV out of the driveway.
Unfortunately, the road to the school proved to be stubbornly debris-free. And just as she’d expected, MacKay didn’t wait long before he started interrogating her again.
“Tell me about this loan.”
She hadn’t thought of any reasonable lie, so she tried one more time to stall. “Why should I? It’s clear you’re going to tell your boss we’re a bad bet no matter what I say.”
“That’s right. But if there’s a reasonable explanation, then maybe I won’t see to it that the other investors learn about the loan.”
Her stomach sank. “You’d do that? Why?”
“It would be their fault for not performing their own due diligence. Unless there’s an overwhelming safety issue, it’s not my job to safeguard their money.”
How much should she tell him? She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, then sighed. She supposed she should give a full confession. She wasn’t a very skilled liar, and with his intelligence, MacKay had probably already done enough research to have found out the basics. “You know the history of this clinic?”
“Yes. Another organization built a clinic closer to the hospital at the regional capital, but abandoned it during the first energy crisis.”
“That’s right. Without electricity, they couldn’t keep their vaccines and medicines cool.”
“The clinic’s building was eventually bought by a business cooperative,” Lachlan continued. “They turned it into a business training facility and a storefront for local crafts, aye?”
“Yes. Several of the local villagers sell their cloth and statues through the cooperative, which has recently expanded into international markets. You may have noticed their works decorating my waiting room.”
Lachlan gave a grunt of acknowledgment.
“Anyway, the government finally built a power station to provide electricity and running water to this region. The promise of stable utilities was one of the selling points when Layla’s Foundation built my clinic about a year ago.”
Lachlan nodded. “I passed the solar panels and windmills on my way in.”
“The Foundation poured a lot of money into making the clinic as high-tech as the physical environment allows. We can’t perform major surgery, but now that my final shipment of equipment has arrived, we’ll be able to handle all other levels of care, including most lab work.” Helen heard the pride in her voice and fought to keep a rueful smile off her face. She’d been furious when Gloria had pulled her off her last assignment at a trauma center. But Helen and several other staff members had just provided evidence that resulted in a local doctor at the trauma center being fired for illegal activities. Supporters of the doctor had cried foul, then a reporter had started raising questions about Helen’s reliability given the deaths her mother had caused. Fearing for the reputation of Layla’s Foundation, Gloria had decided to temporarily relocate Helen.
During her first three weeks at the clinic, Helen had felt as resentful as she had when, as a thirteen-year-old, her father had uprooted them both and moved them to a remote part of West Africa not far from here. But the warmth of the villagers, combined with their genuine need for adequate medical care, had won her over. She hadn’t given up her desire to return to working as a trauma surgeon, but she’d found herself surprisingly content.
“What happened?” MacKay prompted.
Helen’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “Two months ago, the clinic was vandalized.”