The Ideal Man (6 page)

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Authors: Julie Garwood

BOOK: The Ideal Man
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That was small talk?
“No kidding,” Ben drawled.
Max could see the scowl deepening on Ellie’s face, and he could almost feel the fire flashing from her eyes. He would have laughed had she not looked so annoyed. When he’d first met her, his opinion of her had been rather indifferent. Of course, he’d noticed that she was a beautiful, sexy woman he would love to take to bed. Nothing unusual about that. But then he’d watched how great she was with Sean Goodman. She was so calm and reassuring as she worked on him. Maybe it was all part of her job, but her kindness seemed genuine. Then, when she went back to the hospital to perform Sean’s surgery, Max’s impression of her expanded. Not only did he want to go to bed with her, he admired her as well. And when she gave him a little attitude in the stairwell and let him see her sense of humor, he realized he actually liked her . . .
and
wanted her. Nothing unusual about that.
He saw everything in a different light, however, when he’d checked into her background. Not quite everything, he qualified. He wanted her in bed—that didn’t change—but he was filled with an overwhelming need to protect her. After reading her file, which was only a small portion of what she had gone through, Max felt great empathy for her. She had been powerless back then, with no control over what happened to her. He knew all about that, and that was why he wanted to help as much as he could. Ellie had been through enough. She didn’t need more heartache. And if she testified . . .
Max didn’t respond to Ellie’s question. Instead, he surprised her by sitting down next to her on the sofa. He was so close, if she moved, she’d be glued to him. Ellie was confused. What was he doing? There was a perfectly good overstuffed chair he could have taken, and yet he chose the sofa. What did that mean? Ellie didn’t know how to react. Should she move away? She didn’t want to, but should she? Just as she was questioning his motives, Max took a digital recorder out of his pocket. Oh. Now she understood. He had to sit next to her so that the recorder could pick up the conversation. Bummer.
“Ben, are you ready to get started?” Max asked.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’m the less experienced agent,” he explained to Ellie. “By eleven months.” He turned in the swivel chair and accidentally knocked the desk, starting an avalanche of papers to the floor.
Ellie rushed to help pick up. “It’s a mess, I know, but I haven’t had time to go through everything. Most of it can probably be thrown away.”
“I’ve got this, Ellie. Go sit.” He scooped up several papers, straightened them, and made a pile against the wall. “They can stay on the floor, right?”
She smiled. “Right.”
Max grabbed another stack of papers that was headed to the floor and put a heavy anatomy book on top to keep them from falling again.
“What’s this?” Ben held up several sheets that had been stapled together.
“What is it?” Max asked.
“Restraining order.”
“Yeah?” Glancing at Ellie, Max walked around the desk and took the papers from Ben. Just as he expected, they were orders against Evan Patterson. He quickly flipped through them and handed them back to Ben.
Ben looked over the documents while Ellie remained silent, hoping he wouldn’t read through them.
“Who is Evan Patterson?”
“Oh, those papers are old,” she said.
“Uh-huh,” Ben agreed. “Who is he?”
She had the feeling changing the subject wasn’t going to work. Ben was FBI, which meant he was trained to get people to answer questions, but she wished he’d leave this alone. The subject of Evan Patterson was very difficult for her to talk about or even think about. She wanted the nightmare to stay in the past.
Ellie settled back on the sofa and pulled a pillow onto her lap. “I went to Sacred Heart High School for two years. He was there.”
“Did he leave high school, or did you?” Ben asked, curious.
“I was the first to leave . . . it was a long time ago.”
Ben glanced at Max, knowing that he had also picked up on Ellie’s reticence.
“Where did you go after that?” Ben asked, thinking she had either transferred to another high school or perhaps been homeschooled to get away from Patterson.
Ellie hesitated before answering. “I was in college.”
Ben tilted the chair back. He could see her embarrassment.
“So you’re smart, huh?”
She smiled. “And poor.”
“But real smart?” Ben asked.
“Prod,” Max said. “Chief of surgery calls her Prod.” He turned to her. “That’s short for
prodigy
, isn’t it?”
She didn’t look happy that he had shared that information.
“Just one more question. Where’s Evan Patterson now?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. If he was to come back to Winston Falls where my family lives, my father would let me know.” She lifted the pillow and squeezed it to her chest.
Max could tell she hated talking about Patterson. That was obvious. “I’ll find out where he is now,” he said.
Frowning, she asked, “Why? Why would you do that?”
Because I know what he did to you
, he thought. “It will give you a little peace of mind knowing exactly where he is, won’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, of course, but . . .”
“But what?”
“My father has friends in the FBI. Neither one of them could find Patterson. Why do you think you can? Do you think you’re better at it than they are?”
Did she realize she was repeating the same question the chief of surgery had asked her?
He decided to answer in kind. “Absolutely. I am better.”
She suddenly got it. “You’re as arrogant as I am.”
“When it comes to the job, yeah, I am.” He continued to stare into her gorgeous eyes as he asked, “Do you want me to find him or not?”
“Yes, please, but . . .” She started to say something more then changed her mind. “Thank you.”
“Hold on,” Ben began. “Catch me up. Did Patterson just decide to leave your hometown, or did something happen?”
She sighed. And here she thought the conversation was finished. “Yes, something happened, and he was committed to the Stockton Institute, for a time anyway.”
“What’s the Stockton Institute?”
Max answered. “A state-run facility for the criminally insane. Patterson attacked her, damn near killed her. Read the reports. That will answer some of your questions.”
Ellie frowned at Max when she said, “You knew all about Patterson before Ben saw the restraining order, didn’t you?” Before he could answer, she continued, “Of course, you did. My God, it’s only been what? Four? Five hours since we met?”
“Longer than that.”
“How did you get all that information so quickly?”
“It’s in your file.”
Her hand went to her throat. “For anyone to read?” She sounded appalled.
“No, not for just anyone.” Then, frowning, he asked, “What did you mean, Patterson went to Stockton for a time?”
“That wasn’t in the file?” she asked.
“No. Now tell me.” He sounded as though he were grilling her again.
“Patterson’s family is very wealthy, and they were able to get him transferred to a private facility. And guess what? Eventually he was given weekend passes to go home.”
“After he tried to kill you?” Ben asked.
Oh God, she was going to have to dredge it all up again. She took a deep breath. “After Patterson left me for dead . . . actually, I was told he thought he had killed me . . .”
“Yes?” Ben urged when she hesitated. His tone was softer this time.
“He ran, and the police and FBI couldn’t find him right away. So my father, with the help of the two FBI agents who had become friends, decided I needed to go into hiding.”
Max filled in the blanks for Ben. “The son of a bitch had been terrorizing her for over a year. He’d even grabbed her a couple of times, but she was able to get away. He wasn’t going to give up until he killed her.”
Ellie continued. “As soon as I was ready to leave the hospital, my father drove me here. One of his friends introduced him to a couple, the Wheatleys. They took me in. They’re both teachers and very kind people. They had no children of their own, and they opened their home to me.” For the first time since the topic had come up, she smiled. “They didn’t know what to do with me.”
She didn’t expound, and neither Ben nor Max pressed.
“They took good care of me,” she said. “I stayed with them while I finished college and all the way through medical school and part of residency.”
“And you’re finishing your residency now,” Ben concluded.
“No, I’ve already finished my residency. Now I’m finishing my fellowship in trauma. Are we done talking about Patterson?”
Ben nodded. “Almost. One last question, and we’ll move on. Just tell me, when did Patterson get released?”
“He’s been in and out for the past ten years. About six months ago, my father heard he’d gotten out and vanished. The attorneys were supposed to keep watch, and so were my father’s friends, but none of them were informed of his release. It was by chance that my father heard about him.” She clasped her hands together emphatically and said, “Now I’m done talking about this. You’re here to interview me about the shooting, remember? So why don’t you get to it.”
Max nodded to Ben, who pulled his chair closer to the coffee table and said, “Okay, let’s start. Go ahead and turn the recorder on, Max.”
Ben stated the date, time, location, and the names of the people in the room for the recorder, then asked, “Dr. Sullivan, did you see Agent Sean Goodman get shot?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Tell us what happened from the time you left the hospital. It’s my understanding you were going for a run. Isn’t that right? Why don’t you start there.”
Now that the subject of Patterson was off the table, Ellie could take a deep breath without feeling as though her chest was trying to crush her. She tried to be as accurate as possible as she told what she had seen, and then she patiently answered a myriad of questions. She didn’t have as much trouble describing the man who shot Agent Goodman as she did the strange woman, but she stressed that she didn’t think she would be able to point either of them out in a courtroom.
“He looked directly at me, but he had sunglasses on. I could see the sweat on his face. The sunglasses slipped down his nose, and I saw his eyes, but only for a second, then he swung the gun around, and I dropped to the ground.”
“Describe him for me,” Ben requested.
“He was around six feet tall. He wore a brown windbreaker and black pants.”
“And the woman?”
“She was dressed all in black. Black slacks, black top. She was shorter than he was, around five seven, and I’d guess her weight to be about one hundred thirty.”
“What else did you notice about her?”
“She was freaky looking. She was wearing a black wig, but it was askew. And her eyes didn’t look real.”
“What do you mean, not real?”
“They sort of . . . glowed. Definitely contacts,” she added quickly so he wouldn’t think she was nuts. “It all happened so fast, and they had their heads turned away from me most of the time.”
Ben calmly led her through more questions. He seemed laidback about it all, but Ellie was certain it was all an act to put her at ease. She knew from past experience that when a policeman or federal agent was harmed, the city went into lockdown mode until the culprit or culprits were apprehended. Sean Goodman was not only a friend, he was also a fellow agent. Taking it all in stride? Not possible.
“What about Agent Goodman? He saw them,” she said.
Ben nodded. “Yes, he did.”
“Sean saw a man and a woman moving fast toward the street. We’re not sure if he saw their faces before he was shot, and like you said, they obviously tried to change their appearance,” Max explained.
“If he had gotten closer . . . ,” Ben began.
Ellie shook her head, stopping him. “Had he gotten closer, the bullet would have done a lot more damage, especially if he was hit in the chest. Those wounds are . . . messy.”
“Why wasn’t he wearing a vest?” Ben asked Max. “Do you know?”
“He was supposed to stay in the van, but the second he got out, he should have put the vest on. Farber and Stanley had taken their vests off,” he added. “They thought it was all over. Maybe Sean thought that, too.”
“Yeah, maybe he did,” Ben allowed.
“What about those kids who ran into the street to flag down the ambulance? They must have seen the couple running away,” Ellie said.
“They didn’t see their faces.” Max sounded irritated again.
“There were people all over the park. Could someone else have gotten a better—”
“We’ve checked,” he barked and turned the recorder off.
She frowned at him. “Are you always this grumpy?”
Surprised by her question, he repeated, “Grumpy?”
“Yeah, he is kind of grumpy today,” Ben interjected.
“The hell I am.”
Laughing, Ellie moved the pillow out of her way and stood. “I’m getting a Diet Coke. You two want anything?”
“Sure, I’ll take a Coke,” Ben said.
She turned to Max. “I shouldn’t have called you grumpy. You’ve had a bad day. Your friend was shot, and from what you’ve told me, the plan to apprehend these people fell apart.” She headed toward the kitchen and added, “So it’s okay to be grumpy.”
“Yeah, he’s usually real cheery.” Ben laughed as he told the lie. His cell phone vibrated, and he quickly read the text.
“Hey, Ellie, could I ask you a medical question?”
She peeked around the corner. “Sure. What do you want to know?”
“What does it mean when a pregnant woman has all the symptoms of indigestion?”
She thought he was joking until he looked up from his text, and she saw the concern in his eyes.
“It means she has indigestion.”
He wasn’t convinced. He read his wife’s symptoms aloud, told Ellie that she was four months along, and that she had miscarried their first child at exactly four months.

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