Special Agent Nanny Read online

  The race to find a kidnapped baby leads the newly formed secret agency Colorado Confidential to a fire in a hospital records room. Now agent Shawn Jameson will match wits with an arsonist while trying not to fall for a beautiful doctor whose secrets he’s sworn to expose…

  “Did I hurt you?” Shawn demanded.

  Kelley’s dazed eyes searched her body as if determining that everything was intact. Shawn followed her gaze, feeling warmth ignite inside. She looked damn good to him. “I… No, I’m all right. But… Thank you for following me—for keeping me from being hit. The driver must have seen us. Why didn’t he stop to make sure we’re all right?”

  “Yeah, why?” But Shawn knew the answer. “Come on. I’m taking you to my place.”

  “No, I’m fine. I can drive. I need to get home.”

  “You don’t need to get home. Not now.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t you get it? Someone just tried to run you over, Dr. Stanton. Intentionally. And since he didn’t succeed, he might just try again.”

  Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

  We wind up a great summer with a bang this month! Linda O. Johnston continues the hugely popular COLORADO CONFIDENTIAL series with Special Agent Nanny. Don’t forget to look for the Harlequin special-release anthology next month featuring USA TODAY bestselling author Jasmine Cresswell, our very own Amanda Stevens and Harlequin Historicals author Debra Lee Brown. And not to worry, the series continues with two more Harlequin Intrigue titles in November and December.

  Joyce Sullivan concludes her companion series THE COLLINGWOOD HEIRS with Operation Bassinet. Find out how this family solves a fiendish plot and finds happiness in one fell swoop. Rounding out the month are two exciting stories. Rising star Delores Fossen takes a unique perspective on the classic secret-baby plot in Confiscated Conception, and a very sexy Cowboy PI is determined to get to the bottom of one woman’s mystery in an all-Western story by Jean Barrett.

  Finally, in case you haven’t heard, next month Harlequin Intrigue is increasing its publishing schedule to include two more fantastic romantic suspense books. That’s six titles per month! More variety, more of your favorite authors and of course, more excitement.

  It’s a thrilling time for us, and we want to thank all of our loyal readers for remaining true to Harlequin Intrigue. And if you are just learning about our brand of breathtaking romantic suspense, fasten your seat belts for an edge-of-your-seat reading experience. Welcome aboard!

  Sincerely,

  Denise O’Sullivan

  Senior Editor, Harlequin Intrigue

  SPECIAL AGENT NANNY

  LINDA O. JOHNSTON

  Dedication:

  To the other Colorado Confidential authors, as well as the authors of all the other Confidential series.

  I appreciate being in such good company. And, of course, to Fred.

  Acknowledgments:

  Thanks to Denise O’Sullivan, Melissa Endlich and Allison Lyons for allowing me to participate in Colorado Confidential. It’s been fun!

  Also, thanks to Dr. Donald Zangwill and Dr. Kenneth Zangwill for their medical information.

  Any mistakes or misdiagnoses are the result of my poetic license, and not their medical licenses.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Linda O. Johnston’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won the Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for “Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year.” Now, several published short stories and novels later, Linda is recognized for her outstanding work in the romance genre.

  A practicing attorney, Linda juggles her busy schedule between mornings of writing briefs, contracts and other legalese, and afternoons of creating memorable tales of the paranormal, time travel, mystery, contemporary and romantic suspense. Armed with an undergraduate degree in journalism with an advertising emphasis from Pennsylvania State University, Linda began her versatile writing career running a small newspaper, then working in advertising and public relations, later obtaining her J.D. degree from Duquesne University School of Law in Pittsburgh.

  Linda belongs to Sisters in Crime and is actively involved with Romance Writers of America, participating in the Los Angeles, Orange County and Western Pennsylvania chapters. She lives near Universal Studios, Hollywood, with her husband, two sons and two cavalier King Charles spaniels.

  Books by Linda O. Johnston

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  592—ALIAS MOMMY

  624—MARRIAGE: CLASSIFIED

  655—OPERATION: REUNITED

  688—TOMMY’S MOM

  725—SPECIAL AGENT NANNY

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Shawn Jameson—An undercover investigator, he never thought much about kids until he had to play nanny to interrogate a beautiful suspected arsonist.

  Dr. Kelley Stanton—The lovely doctor spends a lot of time combating rumors against her…as well as fighting her attraction to the man investigating her.

  Jenny Stanton—Were the three-year-old’s tantrums after the fire the result of agitation…or something more sinister?

  Dr. Randall Stanton—Is Kelley’s ex-husband the source of the rumors against her…and are his allegations designed to cast suspicion away from himself?

  Cheryl Marten—Randall’s latest conquest, who has an agenda of her own.

  Louis Paxler—The administrator would do anything to minimize the hospital’s liability.

  Juan Cortes—The janitor knows everything that goes on around the hospital…including who set the fire.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Six weeks ago

  Dr. Kelley Stanton rounded the corner in the hospital corridor, massaging the ache in one temple with her free hand. At least she was out of her lab coat and in light street clothes appropriate to Denver’s August weather. Too bad she couldn’t shed the paperwork pending as follow-up to the day’s patients as easily. She inhaled deeply as a sigh formed in her chest. Except—

  Smoke! She smelled smoke!

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, automatically pulling her purse off her shoulder and grabbing for her cell phone. Don’t panic. It might be nothing.

  She looked around. The corridor was long. Peach-colored walls. Lots of closed doors and hanging signs to direct patients. It was empty now. She was the only one there.

  This wasn’t the hall to the parking lot exit. By habit, she had gone the wrong way, toward the administrative wing of Gilpin Hospital. Toward the area where her three-year-old daughter, Jenny, went to day care.

  Thank heavens it was late. Her ex-husband, Randall, also a doctor, would already have picked up Jenny. And the admin wing held offices, not patients.

  Still—

  She sped forward. Surely someone had simply over-cooked microwave popcorn in a staff lunchroom. Or it was something equally innocuous. There couldn’t be a fire in Gilpin Hospital.

  The heels of her low, comfortable pumps clicked briskly on the shiny linoleum floor. The rapidity of her pulse matched her pace.

  She turned right, toward the increasing smell. An ominous gray cloud billowed at the end of the short hall.

  In the direction of KidClub.

  “Fire!” she shouted.

  At least no one should be around. It was
seven o’clock at night. The childcare center closed at six-thirty. Most admin staff were already gone by then.

  Quickly she dialed 9-1-1 and gave the particulars. The operator promised to send firefighters immediately.

  “Fire!” she shouted again. “Is anyone here?”

  No reply. Good. Maybe everyone else had left.

  But she couldn’t be certain.

  Kelley glanced up at the walls, looking for a building fire alarm. The whole hospital should be alerted. The evacuation plan might need to be implemented.

  She had to get out, too. But first she needed to make sure no one was in danger.

  There was a fire alarm outside the childcare facility. She would go down the hall that far and pull the alarm. She had to make sure no one remained inside. No child. Jenny.

  KidClub was three quarters of the way down this relatively short hallway. Its door was closed but not locked. The lights were still on.

  The smell of the surrounding smoke gagged her.

  She ran inside, checked the three large playrooms. The kitchen. The bathroom.

  Thankfully, no one was there.

  She hustled back to the corridor. A crackling roar filled the air from down the hall. The smoke was thicker. She coughed as she broke the glass and set off the alarm. The cacophonous pulsing blare surrounded her.

  Where was the fire? In the large records storage room at the end? No one would be there, but all that paper would provide a huge source of fuel.

  She coughed again. Her eyes stung, teared. She had to get out. “Is anyone here?” she called again to be sure.

  And heard something.

  Was it her imagination? The sound had been so tiny compared with the alarm and the thundering from the end of the hall, punctuated now by an occasional crash.

  She had to check.

  It wasn’t easy to see with her eyes smarting. A hand on the wall, she inched along. “Who’s there?” she called.

  And heard the noise again. Like a child’s whimper.

  “Please, God, no,” Kelley murmured, moving faster.

  Another short hall veered from the main corridor. Kelley tried to peer down it, then heard a small voice. “Mommy!”

  “Jenny? Oh Lord, Jenny?” Kelley shoved at the air, as if to erase the smoke. Below, on the floor, she got a glimpse of bright yellow.

  Jenny had worn her bright yellow jumper that morning.

  Kelley knelt. Her tiny, blond-haired daughter was crouched on the floor. At least there the smoke was not as thick, but Jenny coughed as Kelley lifted her into her arms and hugged her tight. The tears running down her face now were not entirely due to the fire.

  Where the hell was Randall? How could he have left their daughter alone?

  No matter now. There would be plenty of time to censure him, once Jenny and she were safe.

  Coughing as she reentered the main corridor, her precious cargo snugged safely against her, Kelley glanced right. The only area on fire seemed to be the records room. She’d seen no one flee after she’d cried out and set off the alarm. Hopefully, no one else was here.

  The siren still shrieking, Kelley hurried away from the smoke to the outside where people gathered in excitement and concern.

  Her daughter and she would be fine, though they’d both have to be checked for smoke inhalation.

  But thank heavens the only damage appeared to be to paperwork. Things. Hospital records.

  The fire was certainly unfortunate.

  But at least there should be no major consequences.

  Chapter One

  The Present

  “You want me to what?” Shawn Jameson shoved his chair back from the table, stood and stared at Colleen Wellesley. “You can’t be serious.”

  His boss crossed her arms without rising. About forty-five years old, with irritation narrowing her blue-green eyes, she appeared very serious. And that did not make Shawn happy at all. “You’ve got your orders,” she said quietly. “Your cover will be as a caregiver in the childcare center at Gilpin Hospital.” She was dressed like a rancher in a plaid flannel shirt and jeans. But that did not keep her from looking authoritative.

  Shawn heard muffled laughter. He turned to glare at Fiona Clark, another Colorado Confidential operative, who had joined Colleen and him in the secret, basement meeting room of the Royal Flush Ranch. By the time he was able to turn a fierce gaze on her, the blond former FBI agent had pasted a sympathetic expression on her face. But there was mirth in her brown eyes.

  Fiona, like Shawn, was dressed similarly to Colleen for hard work on the ranch—but that was not all they were here for. In keeping with his cover, Shawn wore a leather vest over a comfortable blue work shirt that was tucked into well-worn, faded jeans. He’d bought his boots in Texas when, while in training, he’d visited the Smoking Barrel Ranch, the cover for the original Confidential agency.

  Shawn turned back toward Colleen. What could he do? These were his first orders directly from her, though she’d been his employer for a while. He had joined the staff of Investigations, Confidential and Undercover, a private investigation agency known as ICU, a couple of years ago. At first, he’d been aware that there was a secretive boss, known only as C. Wellesley, in the background calling the shots. He had only recently learned she was a woman, and even more recently met her. Here. On the ranch. When she had recruited him into Colorado Confidential, a very new, very special covert arm of the Colorado Department of Public Safety. He’d undergone training here for the past few months. It was definitely time to go to work.

  But this…?

  “What the hell—er, heck—do I know about tending a bunch of kids?” He ran his fingers through his short, dark blond hair in frustration. “You hear that? I don’t even know how the hell to watch my language.”

  “You’ll learn,” Colleen said mildly. “Either that, or the kids’ll bring home some interesting new vocabulary.”

  “Damn.” This wasn’t getting Shawn anywhere. He thought fast, taking his seat at the table once more. “Look, Colleen,” he said in a cool and logical tone. “You have someone here who can undoubtedly do a better job with this than me—Fifi.”

  A growl issued from behind him. Fiona hated that nickname, but she had earned his use of it now by laughing at him.

  “The fact that Fiona is female doesn’t mean she’d do better with this cover than you, Shawn,” Colleen said mildly. “And this assignment requires someone with your particular expertise—arson investigation. You do know something about that, don’t you?”

  She knew full well he did. He had devoted his life to fighting fires—and to bringing down the people who set them. With good reason. Damned good reason.

  “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I know something about that.”

  “There’s more to the situation than the fire that destroyed the records department of Gilpin Hospital six weeks ago,” Colleen continued. “Wiley Longbottom thinks that the fire could be connected to the flu epidemic that ran through Silver Rapids a few months back.” Longbottom was the director of the Colorado Department of Public Safety. Colleen reported to him. “He believes there’s a chance the flu was caused by the same type of microbe found in the blood samples Michael took from the sheep at the Half Spur Ranch.”

  Michael Wellesley, Colleen’s brother, had just returned from an undercover assignment at that sheep ranch, which was partially owned by powerful Colorado senator Franklin Gettys. Not a man you wanted to accuse of anything without indisputable proof. He’d also brought back an unanticipated reward, his new love, Nicola Carson. She’d been the target of an assassin, and was staying at the Royal Flush under Michael’s personal protection.

  Colleen continued in a deceptively mild voice, “And if so, we definitely need more information. When we got the test results from the Center for Disease Control, the blood samples showed antibodies for Q fever.”

  “That’s a disease carried by livestock anyway, isn’t it?” Fiona asked.

  “Yes, but Wiley thinks the Silver Rapids
flu epidemic might not have been flu after all. It may have been an outbreak of Q fever. And while Q fever is often found in livestock, a human epidemic of that proportion is…suspicious. And the whole mess could have some bearing on the Langworthy kidnapping.”

  “How?” Shawn demanded, stunned by Colleen’s implication that the flu could have a human source. If so, no doubt someone had a vested interest in covering it up.

  “The missing baby’s mother, Holly Langworthy, was one of the people infected. At the time, she was still pregnant with little Schyler. We have to look into the fire and the flu, in case the baby’s disappearance is somehow related.”

  Ah, Shawn thought. That was the crux of it. Colorado Confidential’s first major case wasn’t just high priority. It was the priority. Schyler, the infant grandson of one of Colorado’s most influential citizens, Samuel Langworthy, had been kidnapped. So far, regular law enforcement agencies with jurisdiction, even the FBI, were stymied. The Department of Public Safety had turned to the newly constituted covert agency, the country’s fourth Confidential organization, for help.

  It was a case they couldn’t afford to blow. A baby’s life was at stake. More lives might hang in the balance.

  “There’s a doctor on staff at the hospital, Dr. Kelley Stanton,” Colleen continued. She slowly drummed one finger on the table as if using the rhythm to remind her of the facts. Her hands were blunt nailed and work roughened. She owned this ranch, which, Shawn knew, had been in her family for generations.

  “Dr. Stanton is a suspect in the arson,” Colleen went on. “She was involved with treating the flu patients, including two elderly people who died. You’ll have access to her by working at the childcare center, since she has a three-year-old daughter who goes there. Rumors around the hospital suggest she set the fire to hide her negligence in treating those patients.”

  “A pretty nasty allegation,” Shawn noted.