Alana Candler, Marked for Murder (5 page)

Now, she sat still as a cold stethoscope was pressed against the bruises on her chest, and she cringed—trying to ignore the dull ache. Being brought back to life had its disadvantages.

The nurse listened to her heartbeat and took her blood pressure. He turned to study the IV machine beside her head and then asked her quietly, “You ready for me to take this out?”

Alana was alert immediately and sat up in bed. “Okay,” she whispered. She hated needles and had spent all night trying to ignore the one protruding from her arm. Turning her head, she closed her eyes
as he carefully withdrew the needle and placed a tiny bandage over her wound.

“There we go. As good as new.”

That was easy for him to say!

The nurse threw the paper in the trash as he walked out the door and told her with a smile, “The doctor will be in shortly. I think he might let you go home today, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Alana nodded and slumped down in the bed, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“Hey there, munchkin.”

Alana dropped her hand and looked up in satisfied pleasure. The first smile of the day spread across her face.

“Brad! You’re here! After being here so late, I thought you might not get here until this evening.”

“Sure, sis! Nothing could keep me away. That’s what brothers are for. How are you feeling?”

Alana didn’t answer but watched him amble across the room and perch on the edge of her bed. Dark circles from lack of sleep framed his eyes, and worry lines painted wrinkles in his usually smooth complexion. More gray than normal tinged the edges of his dark brown hair.

A shaft of guilt stabbed her heart. It hurt—knowing she was causing her brother added stress. Being police chief was a demanding job. Constant worry over the latest string of murders and robberies caused him enough stress to last a lifetime. Now the assault she had suffered added to the burden. Not only was it another case to solve, but this one was personal.

Brad reached over and touched her tenderly on the arm—studying her pale face. “You still look a little white to me.”

Alana blinked her eyes to hide the strain her headache was causing. “I’m just glad to be here.” She paused before adding quietly, “I almost wasn’t.”

Brad’s brown eyes met Alana’s, and they shared a warm gaze. He reached over and rubbed her cheek. “I’m glad too.” Then, he playfully tweaked her nose. “Hey, I brought you something.”

He flipped a brown sack onto the bed.

After carefully opening the top, she smiled with delight. “Clothes!”

Brad made a face and said, “Yeah, your old clothes still smell like lake water, and I figured the hospital wouldn’t let you leave with one of their gowns. So, Lisa loaned you those. They might be a little big, but I reckon they’ll do.” He smiled.

Brad’s wife, Lisa, was a petite blond with a strong out-going personality and an athletic build. She was a little bigger than Alana, but the clothes she packed into the sack looked as if they might fit perfectly.

Alana smiled at him warmly. “Thanks, Brad. Brandy promised she’d send me clothes from my apartment in Ross maybe tomorrow, but thanks so much for these. And tell Lisa I said thanks too.”

“You’ll have a chance to thank her yourself in about thirty minutes. She’s coming to take you home with us for a few days. That is, if the doctor says it’s okay for you to leave.”

“I hate to make her come all the way up here with the kids, but I’d love to get outta here.”

“The kids wouldn’t miss it! You’d think they hadn’t seen you in years instead of just a few weeks.”

A little stab of guilt pierced Alana’s heart. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. It’ll be good to see those ragamuffins again. How old is Timmy now?”

Brad closed one eye thoughtfully. “Tomorrow . . . he’ll be ten months old.”

“You’re kidding! It seems like yesterday I babysat Rob and Jan while you and Lisa rushed to the hospital.”

“They grow up faster than tadpoles in a freshwater pond.”

“Please! Don’t mention the word pond.” Alana closed her eyes, laid her head back on the over-stuffed pillow, and frowned through the pain.

Brad’s voice held a grimace. “Sorry. You sure you’re okay, Lane?”

“Just a few bruises and a little bit of a lingering headache.”

“The doc says you’ll be sore for a few days, but soon you’ll be as good as new. Did you get any sleep?”

“A little. Brad, what about my car?”

He sucked in a slow breath and shook his head regretfully. “Well, kiddo, we towed your car in this morning. Looks like you’re gonna need a new one. The motor’s ruined.”

Alana closed her eyes. “What about my camera and my luggage at the hotel?”

Brad’s gaze plunged to the floor.

“Lane, they weren’t at the hotel. They were in the trunk of your car. Your purse, your camera case, and your luggage with the laptop inside. Even your credit cards and the two one hundred dollar bills in your wallet were still there.”

“What?” Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand. I told you—I gave one of those bills to the man at the hotel to pay for my room.” Her voice increased in volume.

Brad rubbed her on the arm. “Calm down, Lane. We’re short-handed because of this flu bug, but Bo and Kent are there now talking to the manager. They’ll do a thorough job and let us know what they find.”

Alana shook her head. “I don’t understand. I
was
there. I remember the room number—three-thirteen. I saw the weird picture hanging over the bed. I wouldn’t make all these things up, Brad. Go to the hotel and see if it’s not just like I described.”

“Bo’s checking on it, Alana. Be patient. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Thoughts of eyes, dark and sinister, flashed before Alana’s eyes. She hoped they would figure it out—and soon.

SEVEN

A LITTLE WHILE LATER, A
dull knock sounded on the hospital door. Chet Fabian and his friend and cruising partner, Elliott Morris, stuck their heads inside the door.

“Can we come in?”

Brad raised his head. “Hey, fellas. Come on in.”

Brad shook hands with Chet first and then Elliott as they ambled into the room.

Alana dried the tears from her face as the two policemen crossed the tile floor—both dressed in sharply pressed uniforms. She watched as Chet, the newest rookie of the department, stepped boldly up to the bed. Concern burned above the pudgy, dark circles under his eyes as he patted Alana’s arm.

“Alana, I know I’m new at the department, but I want you to know we’re gonna find this guy.”

Short and rounded, Chet’s cocky personality constantly pushed anyone away who might be interested in making friends. His ash-colored hair was slicked down with some kind of men’s gel, and his eyes behind the dark-rimmed glasses flashed self-assurance and an all-important attitude. In spite of the showy front, Alana could hear the warmth and determination framing his words.

Once again, tears blurred her vision and clogged her throat so she couldn’t speak. She put her hand on Chet’s—still resting on her hand—and smiled her appreciation.

Elliott stepped forward and handed her an arrangement of cut flowers—geraniums, daisies, and baby’s breath.

“Oh, they’re beautiful, Elliott. Thank you.” Alana smelled the flowers and placed them on her tray where she could see them.

Elliott stood back, and grinned.

Elliott, tall, blonde, and a little on the aloof side, was a two-year member of Brad’s force and was famous for his patience and common sense. Brad told Alana how Elliott tolerated Chet’s friendship in spite of his arrogant disposition because of their intertwined backgrounds. After growing up in the same neighborhood—their houses only a block apart—Chet and Elliott shared the same high school classes, the same criminal justice degree in college, and graduated from the police academy on the same day.

Elliott joined the Landeville City Police Department immediately after his graduation, but it was two years before Chet could apply. Alana remembered the day Chet’s father had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease —the day after Chet walked across the stage to accept his diploma from the police academy. Chet spent two years taking care of his father followed by settling his estate when he died. Two months ago, when Chet came to Brad for a job, Brad paired him with Elliott as partners, and since that time, they’d been inseparable.

Alana saw Chet and Elliott together during their off hours at the tennis courts or out on the golf course. Losing most of the games hadn’t diminished Chet’s arrogant attitude. He let everyone around him know that he thought his specialty—
mental
strength—was more important than mere
physical
strength.

Chet placed his hands on his hips and sucked in a deep breath. “We gotta get back to work, Alana, but if you need anything, let us know.”

Elliott nodded. “Anything, Alana.” His voice, though quiet, was full of compassion.

“Thanks, guys. I will.”

Brad followed them as they walked to the door, and when they were gone, he turned. “I’m gonna check on that doctor and see what’s taking so long. Be back in a minute.”

Alana sat back in the bed and rubbed her aching head. She’d be glad to get out of here and back home where she could rest.

Another knock sounded on the door just before Bo stuck his head in the room. “Can we come in?”

“Hey, Bo. Come on in.”

Kent pushed through the door behind Bo and glanced at Alana. A slight nod of his head was his only acknowledgement. Then, in a timid sort of way, he retreated to the corner of the room.

Bo sidled over to the bed. “What do we have here? I hear you’ve been going for joy rides in the lake and skinny-dippin’ in the middle of the night,” Bo said with a grin.

Alana’s eyes flashed as she stared at the teasing expression on Bo’s face. “Believe me, there was nothing joyful about it.”

Bo leaned over the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve felt better, but I’m just glad to be here. Did you talk to the manager at the hotel? Did he confirm I was there?”

Bo’s expression slipped a little as he answered. “We’re still checking into it, Alana. We’ll let you know, okay?”

He pasted a smile on his face and nodded toward Kent. “Before we headed out for duty, we just wanted to check in on you—make sure you’re okay. Ain’t that right, Kent?”

Kent smiled shyly from the corner and nodded.

“So . . . how’d all this happen?” Bo asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“It’s entirely your fault, you know. If you hadn’t been out of town this week, I wouldn’t have been in Landeville, and I wouldn’t be here in this bed.”

Bo had the decency to look sheepish. He shrugged. “My cousin was getting’ hitched . . . what can I say? So, you came pretty close to leaving this world, huh?”

Alana nodded.

“How were you able to get out of the car?”

“I was lucky. Some man drove by and saw my car in the lake. God was watching out for me. Most people would have kept on going, or at the most called 9-1-1. Instead, this man jumped in to pull me out. I’m really thankful.”

“Yeah, I imagine so.”

“Thanks for coming, Bo. Brad and I both appreciate your friendship.”

Bo seemed to be embarrassed by the sentiment, and his lop-sided smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Clearing his throat, he asked quietly, “Did you see your attacker?”

Alana shook her head. “I didn’t see anything but his eyes—dark and angry.” She shivered and shook her head to rid herself of the memory.

“Well,” he said absentmindedly, “we’re glad you’re safe, aren’t we, Kent?”

A silent nod came from the corner of the room. Alana had forgotten Kent was there.

“Who was the man who pulled you out? Do you know?” Bo asked.

“No. I never found out, but I’m sure Brad can find out for me. I’ll definitely find him and thank him in person.”

Bo stood up and stretched his arms to the ceiling. “We better get to work before your brother fires us. Come on, Kent. I’ll race you to the car.” He grinned and turned toward the bed once more. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, Lisa’s coming to get me. I’ll probably go home with them for a couple of days, just for some rest. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“If you need a ride back to Ross, let me know, okay?”

“Sure, Bo. Thanks for coming by. See you later, Kent.” She sent a half-wave in Kent’s direction. Kent lifted a hand and turned toward the door.

EIGHT

OUTSIDE IN THE HALL, BRAD
turned away from the nurse’s station and saw Bo and Kent leaving Alana’s room. He cringed inwardly at Bo’s wrinkled sports jacket and ruffled red hair. No matter how many times he suggested Bo dress more carefully, his personality always seemed to assert itself in his clothing. Brad strode forward.

“Did you finish up at the hotel?”

Kent leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets, waiting for Bo to speak.