Promises of Mercy(Montana Promises-Book 1) (7 page)

“Regarding where I was the afternoon of Chris’s death, speak with Becky Andrews. She saw me come in a little after one in the afternoon. I rushed to Chris’s room, saw he was asleep, and left. I didn’t even enter the room. A minute later, I met with Stone. Becky should remember, because I had a cooler with me that I’d forgotten to leave in the car.”

He made another note. “I will.”

“Dr. Almaguire told me the timeline, too. Could I have killed Chris? Yes.” Her face turned red. “I couldn’t personally kill him, but the timing would fit. I never would have harmed him. I loved him too much.”

“All the more reason not to want to see him suffer.”

She grit her teeth. “You’re a shit. No offense.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

She stilled. “Oh, my God. Did Chris have Ativan in his system, too?”

The shocked look on her face made him take pause. He saw no reason not to tell her the truth and judge her reaction. “Yes.”

“A lot?”

“Yes.”

She dropped her face in her hands. Amber admitted to giving one milligram of Ativan to Emma. The rest, she claimed must have come from the killer. Chris wasn’t prescribed that drug, so the killer would have given him enough to calm him before possibly injecting him with succinylcholine to make him stop breathing.

She looked up. “What else did he have in his system?”

He wondered when she’d ask. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Besides having two people I know die, having access to Ativan, and me being in my brother’s room minutes before the killer, what physical evidence do you have against me?”

She
had guts. He had to hand it to her. “You’re free to go.” He wasn’t willing to show his hand.

Her gaze bounced around the room. “Tell me this, Mr. Detective. Was my signature on the Ativan dose for Chris, too?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have someone get it for you.” He had checked the logs and all vials had been accounted for. How the killer procured the drugs for Chris remained a mystery.

She
pushed back her chair and stalked out.

Crap
. Now he’d be on Stone’s shit list, all because he needed to solve this case. But just because he didn’t have proof Amber Delacroix killed two people didn’t mean she wasn’t guilty.

Do you really believe that
? He wasn’t ready to answer.

Cade had looked deep into the eyes of many killers and his gut told him she wasn’t one.
Shit
. It didn’t matter. Cade wasn’t going to stop until the killer was brought to justice.

Chapter Seven

Amber felt dirty and degraded. Add in hungry and tired, and she wasn’t fit company for anyone. The problem was that as soon as she and Stone walked out of the station, she remembered he’d driven.

Stone slid her hand into his and guided her to his truck. He acted like her father used to when he wanted her to do as he said. She didn’t know if she should be pissed that Stone thought she needed the help or be appreciative.

The latter required less effort. Stone had stood up to his roommate for her and insisted being with her during the interrogation. For someone who’d only met her recently, he’d been wonderful.

“In you go,” he said, as he guided her onto the seat and once more secured her seatbelt.

She’d been about to swat away his hand, tired of people telling her what to do, but then refrained. It was clear her threshold for politeness had evaporated as soon as she found the detective waiting for her.

Stone climbed into the cab and started the engine. “How about delivery pizza?”

It took her a few seconds to connect the dots. She was hungry and need
ed to eat. “That sounds good.” At least she wouldn’t have to put up with restaurant noise. Then the concept of “delivery” finally registered. “Where are we eating it?” Her mind refused to remain on one subject. She kept alternating between the funeral and that terrible man who accused her of killing someone.

“Your house,” he said.

She failed to figure out if that was a good or bad idea. They neared the funeral home. “Remember, I need to pick up my car.”

“No.”

“No?” Why was Stone suddenly being an ass? Okay, a nice ass, but still an ass. It was as if his roommate’s attitude had rubbed off on him.
Be fair
. At least he’d kept his voice soft. “Why not?” This time, she didn’t sound so challenging.

He glanced at her as he drove past the funeral home. “I don’t think you’d get home in one piece. Haven’t you noticed that you keep mentally drifting off?”

Her anger deflated. “Yes.”
Maybe
. Not really, but the possibility existed. Perhaps after they ate, he’d be willing to drive her back to town.

He took a right on SR25. “How do you—”

He glanced over and smiled. “Know where your house is?”

“Yes.”

“It’s called a phone book.”

Damn
. Maybe she wasn’t fit to drive. Less than ten minutes later, he turned into her neighborhood. He headed down her street, and she pointed to her duplex. “You’ll have to park in front.” The place didn’t have a garage and she shared the drive with her neighbor who had parked both of his cars there already. Maybe tomorrow, she’d speak with him about what sharing meant.

Stone cut the engine, came to her side, and helped her out. The air had chilled since the funeral and she shivered. Without a word, Stone wrapped an arm around her
shoulder. She was so tired that when she found herself at her own front door with Stone holding out his hand for the key, she barely remembered walking up the porch steps. She opened her purse and fumbled through it. “Damn.”

“Come on, tiger, let me look.” He lifted her purse from her fingers, quickly located the key
, and with one twist opened the door. “It’s okay. You’ve had a hard day.” Had he not smiled she might have punched him.

She yearned for her demons to disappear and for someone to erase the emptiness residing in her gut, but to rely on him wasn’t right.

Once she stepped into the familiar surroundings, the tension eased a bit. She inhaled. “Do you smell how fruity it is in here?”
Yuck
. It was her mom’s cologne. The overpowering scent had lingered. “I’ll be right back.”

She stalked to the bathroom, picked up the room deodorizer, and returned. She spritzed the hallway and living room
using a light touch, not wanting to make things worse. She inhaled and decided it was a lot better.

Without asking, Stone plopped onto the sofa and pulled out his phone. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

She’d made too many decisions today already. “You choose.”

He looked as if he was trying to contain a smile. “Oh, no you don’t. If I order pepperoni, you’ll say I didn’t give you a choice and that I was trying to
tell you what to eat.”

Stone wasn’t the
macho type—at least not when he was around her. He’d acted like a pit bull with the detective though, and she found it suited him. If the Cade Carter had been here instead, she bet he would have ordered without regards to what she wanted.

“How about veggie?” she suggested.

“Works for me.”

While he called the pizza place, she ducked into the kitchen and prepared coffee for Stone and hot tea for herself. She remembered he liked a lot of sugar and located a few packets in the cupboard.

When his hands touched her shoulders, she jumped.

“Easy. I just wanted to see if I
can help.”

She faced him. “You don’t have to be so nice. I’m not used to it.”

He cocked a brow. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Through her overtired brain, she tried to figure out what it was about him that was a bit unsettling. “I’m not sure.”

He stepped back. “Have a lot of people treated you like crap?”

“No.” Or did she have nothing to compare it to? Maybe she sucked at picking men, but she refused to be like some women who blamed all men because of a few rotten apples. Hell, maybe it was seeing her mom again that brought back too many bad childhood memories.

The whistle on the teapot blew, and she poured the water into her cup. The coffee finished brewing a minute later, and she fixed his drink.

He took a sip as they walked into the living room. “Perfect.”

His comment pleased her. When Stone returned to his seat on the sofa, she sat across from him, wanting to watch him instead of craning her neck.

Even holding her hot tea, she felt awkward. Except for when Stone told her about his friend dying in the war, she knew little about him. But what to ask? “Tell me about your hobbies.” She thought it was only fair since she’d shared hers.

With stretched out legs, Stone leaned back and drank his coffee then set it on the table in front of him. “I do work a lot, but when I do get out, I love to ski, ride horses, rock climb, bowl—if you can believe that—and at night, I love to read a good science fiction.”

She wouldn’t
have put that mix together. “You don’t devour detective novels?”

His eyes shone. “I think I get enough of the real life stuff from Cade. Plus, I want an escape from my reality, too.”

She could understand that. That was why she read romance novels. She loved happily ever afters. He’d commented a while back about how he desired to travel. “What was your last vacation and where did you go?”
Yeesh
. She sounded like a game show host.

He jabbed his tongue in his cheek then blew out a breath. “It was so long ago it’s hard to recall.
The last time I left town for a few days was when I went to Black Hawk, Colorado.”

She
wasn’t familiar with the place but she liked the sound of the name. “What’s there?”

“Casinos. But what I really enjoyed was the side trip to Georgetown where they have a train ride that takes you over a tall gorge. If you’re queasy at all about heights, don’t go.”

She had no problem with being high up. “I bet the view of the mountains would be wonderful. I grew up in Oklahoma City where it’s flat.” It was one of the things she loved about Rock Hard. The terrain was rugged, varied, raw.

“That part of Colorado is definitely not flat.”

She enjoyed hearing about his life and wanted to know more. “Tell me about your job.”

He told her about a few of the more intense fires they’d had over the years, along with the more harrowing rescues. A half hour later, Stone was halfway through his story when the doorbell rang. Both of them jumped up.
The way he glanced at her forced her to sit back down. He’d want to pay.

As
soon as Stone stepped inside, the aroma from the pizza made her mouth water.

He closed her door then waved the box in the air. “You want to eat at the dining room table or
in the living room?”

“Table.” It would be more intimate, and right now she needed the
companionship.

Part of her had died with Chris’s death
, and too often, bits of reality would sneak in and stab her belly when she least expected it. Then at the oddest times waves of depression, mixed with the sensation of being overwhelmed, would crash down on her. She tried to think of her patients and how they handled their own anxieties but decided maybe she was just weak. Stone seemed to prevent those wicked, cruel sensations from entering her thoughts.

It was ironic. Being there for others was easy. Sucking up her own grief was damned hard.

“…napkins?” Stone asked.

She’d gone off again. Maybe she did need him here. “I’ll get them.”

Amber’s job depended on her staying focused, but her ability to think clearly right now seemed to have evaporated. Once they were seated, they both dove in.

“I really needed this,” he said.

“It’s the best food I’ve tasted. Ever.” She was pleased she was able to eat.

In no time, the pizza disappeared. Stone stood and picked up the carton. “Let me have your napkin.”

“I can do it.” He hesitated then nodded as if he could see she was on the verge of tears. Cleaning up gave her a sense of normalcy, but it also tired her out. A cabinet door opened behind her and she spun around. “What are you looking for?”

“Wine. I thought you could use a drink.”

Boy could she, though it might put her to sleep. “In the fridge. There’s a bottle of red wine already open.”

He cocked a brow
at her choice of storage location. Seconds later, he escorted her to the sofa and sat next to her. “Here.” He handed her a nearly full glass.

On t
he first fruity sip, her taut muscles began to unbind. As much as she didn’t want to think about anything that had happened today, she needed to hear what Stone thought about the interrogation.

“Do you think Cade thinks I’m guilty?” She was pleased her voice hadn’t cracked.

He brought the glass to his lips and drank a third of the wine. “Hard to tell. I do know he wants to find the killer so bad he’ll keep digging until he does.”

“He already dug deep and couldn’t find anything on me.”

“True. Do you have any idea who might have harmed all those patients?”

She shook her head. “No. Trust me, all during Chris’s service, I tried to picture each n
urse and doctor, wondering who could put Emma and Chris out of their misery, but I came up empty-handed.” She twisted toward him. “Don’t get me wrong. We all hate seeing anyone suffer, but we respect life too much not to let the natural order of things rule.”

“No one is particularly soft-hearted?”

“That would be half the staff.”

He put his near-empty glass on the coffee table. “How about someone who cares for you? Is there anyone who would hate to see you suffer and kill for you?”

That was ridiculous. “And then blame me by signing my name to the drug sign out sheet?” A small laugh escaped.

“
I see your point. Let’s assume the person didn’t think anyone would check.”

She couldn’t imagine anyone doing something that terrible, even if it was in the name of love. “Sad to say, other than Chris, there was no one who ever loved me enough to do that.” Pi
ty slid across his face. She waited a second for him to say the usual platitude about how her mom loved her, but he thankfully kept quiet, so she continued. “As for the hospital employees, I don’t believe in dating people I work with. The only person I’m really close to at work is Jamie, and she’d never harm anyone. Especially Chris. She cared for him too much.”

“She seemed to.”

The conversation made Amber’s stomach-churning return. “Not to sound rude, but I’d like to crawl into bed and read a little.” She placed her glass on the coffee table. “I can’t thank you enough for being with me today.” She would have asked him to drive her to the funeral home to pick up her car, but she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with it now. She’d ask her neighbor to give her a lift tomorrow.

“You need your rest. Two traumas in one day are more than anyone should have to bear.”

His support helped so much. As she stood, she glanced over at the chair Chris always sat in. He’d picked that one because it squarely faced the television. Never again would she wag a finger at him to remind him to apply to school, or wait up for him on a Saturday night. An involuntary sob escaped, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Stone shot to his feet and pulled her to his chest. “Come here, you.”

She didn’t reject his offer. When he cradled her in his arms, it felt right. She sniffled then leaned back. “I’m good now.” She swiped a finger under her eye.