Stolen Seduction (18 page)

“Hailey won’t go along with this.”

“Hailey,” she said with just a hint of disgust, “doesn’t have a choice. If she wants to know what’s on

the bottom of my bronze, she’ll go along with it.” When he only stared at her, she added, “Don’t believe me? Call her and find out.”

If he were smart, he’d run long and hard in the opposite direction. Instead, he saw himself wavering. Partly because—even after their marathon sex session—he was still wildly attracted to her. And

partly because he owed her for what he’d just done.

And wasn’t that just a kick in the pants? All of a sudden he’d developed a conscience.

A knock sounded at the door. Nicole flicked him a look just before turning. “Make up your mind,

Billy. But do it quick. If Hailey’s not interested, I’ll move on to the next person on my list. And I’m

already bored with this conversation.”

Shane drove ninety down Highway 1 toward Crawl Key. Hailey was on her side, facing away from

him, head back, eyes closed tightly, just trying to breathe. He’d known as soon as he’d taken one

good look at her when she’d slowed the car that something was wrong.

“Hold on,” he said. “We’re almost there.” He reached over and placed a hand on her arm to reassure

her. Her skin was cold and clammy. When she didn’t respond, he moved his hand around to her

shoulder, then chest, only to realize her heart rate was slow and irregular.

“Hailey? Are you with me?”

Nothing.

“Shit.”

He whipped the car into the Monroe County Medical Examiner’s Office, where she’d planned to

take him to get his leg patched up by a friend of hers, and killed the engine. A green Acura and a

beat-up Dodge pickup were the only other two vehicles in the parking lot.

Hailey didn’t move when he jerked the passenger door open or when he lifted her into his arms.

And when her head fell against his chest like dead weight, his anxiety went through the roof.

The door to the building pulled open just as he reached it, and a woman Shane faintly noticed had

dark hair said, “Oh…shit. What happened?”

The friend. Allie-something. Hailey had mentioned her in the car before she’d gotten sick. “I don’t

know.” The door snapped shut behind him as he moved Hailey quickly into the lobby. “She was fine

forty minutes ago.”

Allie placed a hand on Hailey’s forehead. She turned quickly. “Dad!”

A gray-haired man who had to be James Hargrove, the Monroe County ME, pushed open the door

at the end of the room. He was wiping his hands with a towel when he stepped into the room.

“What’s all the ruckus abo—”

His words died when he saw Hailey in Shane’s arms. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. She was driving. Started complaining about not being able to see. Then said she

didn’t feel well.”

James pulled her eyelids open. “Has she been sick?”

“No. I thought she was just carsick. She was sweating. Then her hands were like ice and her heart

felt slow.”

James felt for a heartbeat. And his expression changed from concerned to frantic in an instant.

“Bring her in back quickly. Allie?”

“I’m here,” Allie said from behind Shane as they all headed down a dim hallway.

“Grab the bag from my office.”

James led them into a room Shane knew instinctively was a morgue. He laid Hailey on the metal table James directed him to. Her head lolled to the side, her shoes clanked against the cold steel. She

moaned and tried to roll to her side.

Allie came rushing back in with the bag. “I’ve got it. Here.”

“Hold still, Hailey.” James ripped open Hailey’s dirty T-shirt, revealing her pale skin and red bra.

He took the stethoscope Allie handed him and listened to her heart. “What did she last eat?”

“Ah.” Why wasn’t she talking? Shane ran a hand through his hair. “A sandwich on the plane. But

that was five hours ago.”

“Nothing since? Did you eat the same thing?”

“No. And yeah. Turkey. Both of us. What’s wrong with her?”

“What else?” James asked with a clip. “Anything to drink?”

Hailey’s head moved on the table. One of her legs came up. She groaned.

“Water. A diet soda, I think. I’m not quite sure.”

“When?”

Crap, how long ago had that been? “At least three to four hours.”

“Her heart rate’s dangerously low.” James dropped the stethoscope and turned. “I need ten cc’s of

atropine. Right now.”

Allie’s face paled, but she turned away and did what her father asked without question, like she’d

assisted him before. James went quickly to a cabinet on the wall and rummaged around until he

found something he wanted, then hustled back to Hailey’s side. She moaned, her face taking on a

strange color as she tried to move. James’s hand on her arm stopped her from twisting to her side.

“What’s going on?” Shane asked. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. But I think she’s having an allergic reaction to something. You sure she didn’t have

anything else to eat or drink?” James asked, readying a syringe after Allie handed him the vial.

“Yeah. Nothing. Nothing but…” He looked up sharply. “Tea. She drank a whole glass of sweet tea

when we were at her uncle’s place in the Everglades.”

Both their heads came up.

“Graham’s house?” Allie asked.

Shane nodded.

James and Allie exchanged glances. Then James stuck the needle in Hailey’s arm, depressed the syringe and helped Hailey roll to her side. “Get me that pan,” he said to Shane. “Allie, I want the

charcoal pills from my bag, and then brew some strong tea. She’s gonna get sick before this is

over.”

The two moved like a blur. Shane did what James told him, held Hailey’s hair back when she got

sick and kept her lying down when she tried to get up. But every time she emptied her stomach or

James gave her another injection of atropine to bring her heart rate back to normal, Shane’s own

stomach and chest reacted with a jolt.

It wasn’t until well over an hour later, when James had forced her to drink the tea and take the charcoal pills, that the sickness finally passed and things quieted down.

Allie had brought in a pillow and a couple of blankets and was sitting at Hailey’s side, talking softly. The room smelled like herbal tea and industrial cleaners.

“Let me take a look at that leg.”

Shane tore his gaze from where he’d been watching Hailey. The older man was only about five-ten,

built lean but muscular, and according to Hailey, the best damn ME in the state of Florida. Originally, Shane hadn’t been too keen on getting his leg patched up in a morgue, but after he’d seen the

way James worked, he was damn thankful this one had been here tonight.

“It’s fine.” Shane went back to looking at Hailey.

James let out a long sigh. “Son, you’re gonna be no help to her if your leg falls off from infection.

Sit down over here and let me have a look.”

It was hard to argue with rationale like that. Making sure he still had a good view of Hailey, Shane

sat in a plastic chair, slid off his borrowed flip-flops and lifted his leg so James could take a look.

“Puncture wounds aren’t deep,” James said as he examined Shane’s leg. “I don’t even think you

need stitches. You got lucky. Antibiotics aren’t generally given with animal bites if stitches aren’t

needed, but considering this happened, what, three hours ago?”

“Yeah. Maybe closer to four.”

James nodded. “That and the fact it hasn’t been cleaned yet, I’m going to give you a course just to

be safe.”

As he went to work cleaning and dressing Shane’s leg, Shane lifted his chin but made sure to keep

his voice low. “Is she going to be okay?”

James glanced over his shoulder where the girls were still quietly talking. “Yeah. Should be fine after a good night’s sleep. We got it all out of her system.”

“What was it?”

James stuck the last bandage in place and gently placed Shane’s foot on the ground. “I don’t know

for sure, but my guess is some kind of poison in liquid form. This wasn’t just food poisoning, not

the way her heart reacted. Did you drink any of that tea when you were at her uncle’s place?”

“No. Too sweet. I spit it out.”

James handed him the first course of antibiotics and a bottle of water, then sat in the chair to

Shane’s left. “Take this one now. Dosage instructions for the rest are here. You have to take the

whole course for the antibiotic to work.” He handed him a box of pills. “I’m giving you some for

Hailey, too, but I don’t want her to start taking them until tomorrow when her stomach’s back to

normal. That cut on her arm should have had stitches. It’s looking a little red. I don’t want it getting

infected.”

Shane nodded and downed the pill.

James looked back at Hailey. “I bet the sugar in the tea masked any bitter taste.”

“You think her uncle poisoned her?”

James turned his way, and his voice lowered so much Shane could barely hear what the older man

said. “Hailey asked me to look into her father’s autopsy report. Did she mention it to you?”

“Briefly.”

James nodded. “I was able to get a copy. Garrett Roarke officially died of a heart attack. I called his

physician. Six weeks ago Garrett went in complaining of chest pains. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. A few weeks later he’s dead. No one thought much of it because of the earlier

diagnosis and the family history. But the kicker? When I spoke with his physician, he told me he’d

prescribed an ACE inhibitor, which expands blood vessels and decreases resistance.”

“Why is that bad?” Shane asked.

“It’s not,” James clarified. “Actually, it’s pretty routine. Only in Garrett’s case, his autopsy showed

elevated levels of cardiac glycosides. Or the drug digoxin. Better known as digitalis.”

Shane’s brow lowered. “I’ve heard of that before. Isn’t that a poison?”

“Yes. But it’s also commonly used in heart-failure patients to increase the pumping action of the

heart. Only in Garrett’s case it was never prescribed.”

Shane studied James’s weathered face. “So you’re telling me he was taking a heart medication that

wasn’t prescribed to him. Why would he do that?”

“I’m not so sure he knew he was taking it,” James said softly. “In fact, I’m not entirely sure his

original diagnosis was completely accurate.” At Shane’s wrinkled brow, James said, “It’s not as

hard as one would think to mimic a heart attack, Detective. You slip a relatively healthy man a little

digoxin, or oleander or lily of the valley and wait for it to take effect. He’s going to feel like something’s wrong. He goes to his doctor, has a full workup. They won’t be testing for any drugs, but

looking at his heart. They give him a diagnosis, put him on medications. Now he’s got a history.

Someone slips him a little more digoxin over the next few weeks, not enough to cause a problem

but to keep his symptoms going. Then bam, a high enough dose to trigger a heart attack. Local ME

doesn’t suspect anything because, hey, guy’s already got a history, and after all, it runs in his family.

Toxicology report comes back showing elevated levels of digoxin, no big deal. It’s a heart-failure

drug, after all. Only in this case, no one asked what he’d actually been prescribed.”

Shane looked over at Hailey as a weird sort of understanding dawned. He thought back to being in

Graham’s house and how worried she was that the news of his son’s death would be bad on the older man’s heart.

She’d said she wasn’t so sure her father’s death was natural after all. If what James had just told

him was true, her father really had been murdered. And every person in her family who had any ties

to Roarke Resorts—Graham included—was a suspect.

“Can you prove it?”

James sighed. “Wish I could. But according to Hailey, Garrett’s already been cremated.”

Damn.

“Do you think she was given digoxin?”

James shook his head. “I’m not sure. Oleander, lily of the valley, digitalis, they all work the same,

though. Any one of them could have been the culprit here. But when you said you’d been out to see

Graham Roarke…that’s when I had a feeling something wasn’t right. You know he’s a hermit, that

he lives out in the boondocks. Man’s also a horticulturist by hobby. He’d know which plants are

poisonous and which aren’t.”

Yeah, of course he would. The question was, why Hailey? And why now? And why the heck would

her uncle have a batch of poison ready and waiting in his fridge if he hadn’t known Hailey was

coming to see him?

“I’m not sure about your connection to Hailey,” James said as he shifted around and reached for

something from his pocket, “but my gut’s telling me you’re someone Hailey can trust, and right

now she needs that.” He pulled out a key, handed it to Shane. “I have a condo here in Marathon. It’s

not being used and I’d like you two to have it for the night. Hailey needs a chance to recharge her

batteries. The place isn’t fancy, but it’s clean and no one will bother you.”

“We’ll be—”

“No arguing.” James held up his hand. “I have to head back to Key West, and as much as I love

Hailey, I don’t want Allie wrapped up in this. That might be selfish—”

“It’s not,” Shane said, taking the key. Hailey trusted this man, and every instinct inside Shane said

he’d be smart to trust him, too. At least for tonight.

James nodded slowly. “You know, when Hailey called and told me who she was bringing down

here, I was skeptical. Especially considering everything that’s been all over the news about her up

there in Chicago. But you’re all right, Maxwell.”

It was odd for Shane to be flattered, but he was. James Hargrove was a man Shane didn’t mind being complimented by.