Special Agent Nanny Page 14

  His grim expression suggested that the presence of other people concerned him even more than Jenny’s blinking. Why?

  “Marge, for me to figure out what got Jenny so upset, I need to know everything that went on before she started crying.” His voice was calmer now, as if he was once again playing psychology student.

  Which was probably better than telling the childcare coordinator the truth, which could really freak her out. It still freaked Kelley out, even though he’d promised to help her.

  Of course, she might be beyond help, at least around here.

  “I don’t actually know what upset Jenny,” Marge said, distress written in her eyes. Which was telling in itself. She was distressed. Every other time Kelley had seen her in Shawn’s presence, she’d overtly flirted with him. “A few people were around here who usually aren’t, though.”

  “Who?” Shawn pounced on the question, which worried Kelley.

  Marge gave a rundown that included Randall and Cheryl, Louis Paxler and a woman Marge didn’t recognize who sounded like Etta Borand. They’d all seemed to be discussing something vociferously. Madelyne Younger had joined them, too. “And—” Marge glanced nervously at Kelley “—when the strange woman left, Mr. Paxler seemed relieved, but he looked at the others and said something I didn’t quite hear about heads about to roll.” Her expression grew startled. “Could that be it? Kids take things literally, and maybe Jenny thought heads would actually roll.”

  Could be, Kelley thought, feeling her heart grow sluggish with defeat. Especially if… “Did my name come up in the conversation?”

  Marge frowned. “Mr. Paxler did say ‘Dr. Stanton,’ but since Dr. Randall Stanton was there, I assumed he meant him. But if Jenny thought that either of you was about to lose a head…”

  “Neither of them is,” Shawn asserted. “But we need to make sure Jenny understands that.”

  Kelley agreed.

  “I’ll call you as soon as she wakes up,” he told Kelley. “Then you can take her home.”

  But as he walked Kelley to KidClub’s door, he whispered into her ear, “We’ll all leave then. Be sure to get the files ready to go. Stick them in your medical bag, whatever, to obscure them. I’ve someplace I need to take Jenny and you—and them.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kelley’s mind flopped like the screen of an electrocardiogram gone mad.

  Shawn had driven Jenny and her straight to the office of his private investigative agency ICU. Now, they were back in his SUV. As he had before, he kept looking into the rearview mirror and the side mirrors. A lot. Kelley suspected he was not only driving defensively against other drivers, but defending against anyone who might be following them, as well. But why?

  She wanted to discuss everything with Shawn, but Jenny was wide awake. “Where are we going?” Kelley asked.

  “A surprise,” Shawn said. They had stopped at a light, and he turned to wink at Jenny, who giggled in delight.

  Her daughter might like surprises, but Kelley didn’t.

  At least Jenny had calmed down since leaving KidClub. Now she acted like a normal three-year-old. One who wasn’t terrified, thank heavens. But what had bothered her before? Kelley had to find out.

  She needed other answers, too, to questions she couldn’t ask right now.

  “That Becky was certainly a whiz at making quick photocopies,” she said. She gestured toward her medical bag, on the floor beside her. It contained copies of the patient files. The originals were to stay in the ICU offices.

  “She made me a copy of my hand,” Jenny piped up from the back seat.

  “You’re sure they won’t lose the originals?” Kelley whispered to Shawn. “I mean, if I need them to prove my story, I’d hate for them to be missing.”

  “Believe me, Colleen will not allow anyone to lose anything,” Shawn reassured her.

  The ICU office was in downtown Denver, not far from the U.S. Mint. According to Shawn, Colleen Wellesley, the head of the agency, had chosen the location by design. She had wanted to ensure that its employees stayed focused on turning out perfect results, time after time. And, of course, on making money.

  Kelley had met the attractive, slightly older Colleen. Then there’d been the men in cowboy gear—one, Michael, was Colleen’s brother. Another, Ryan Benton, had been tall and quiet.

  There had also been an attractive young woman named Nicki, who’d apparently sensed how overwhelmed Kelley felt. She had shared a lot of warm glances with Michael Wellesley. “Don’t mind this gang,” she’d told Kelley. “I just met most of them myself not long ago. There are others, too. But don’t worry. They may bite, but it doesn’t hurt a bit.”

  Kelley hadn’t felt reassured, especially when Colleen very persuasively tried to talk her into leaving the Silver Rapids patient files. What had convinced her was the way Colleen had gone over them, page by page, before getting them copied. Had discussed all the patients’ symptoms and the results of their tests. As if understanding it all mattered to her. As if the truth mattered to her.

  She’d deferentially asked Kelley to explain the medical indications. Kelley described how all the patients had been tested for viruses and had been found to have a strain similar to influenza type A. Despite treatment with antiviral medications and a mild antibiotic to prevent further infection, the patients had developed symptoms. She’d had their blood checked for bacterial infections as well in the IFA tests. The results had been negative.

  And yet, something had seemed…well, off, to Kelley. She’d changed the meds, which had seemed to help most patients. And she’d made notes about her concerns. But with nothing to go on but gut feeling, she’d had to let her questions drop—even after the two deaths. She’d made light of her disquiet when explaining the files to Colleen.

  Wilson’s call had brought it all back and then some, but that wasn’t in the patient files, of course.

  In the end, Kelley prayed that the resources this group undoubtedly had could help to clear her. As long as they didn’t decide to railroad her, as someone at Gilpin Hospital was already attempting to do. And because she’d kept copies of the files, it would be harder for the ICU clan to modify them.

  She knew Shawn had already asked them to help find Wilson. So far, they hadn’t been successful. And until Kelley could discuss her suspicions with him, she would keep them to herself.

  “Here we are,” Shawn said, breaking into Kelley’s reverie. She glanced out the windshield and smiled. They’d stopped in front of an old-fashioned saloon that had been turned into a museum and steakhouse. “Hope my pardners have big appetites tonight. We’re going to eat like cowboys. Okay, Jenny?”

  “Okay, Shawn.”

  A WHILE LATER, Kelley sighed in relief as they pulled up in front of her house. Dinner had been excellent. So had the company. Shawn had played the cowboy role—drawl, boots and all—to the hilt with Jenny, who had loved it.

  So, in fact, had Kelley.

  He’d tried to get Jenny to talk about all she’d done that day. When she’d started to get upset he’d stopped, thank goodness. But there was still no answer as to why Jenny had acted up.

  The day had seemed abysmally long. Kelley was ready to get Jenny to bed, and to turn in, too.

  Not that she expected to sleep.

  She reached for the door handle. “Thanks for everything, Shawn.” Dinner, at least. The jury was still out on whether she should thank him for introducing her to the ICU team. That would depend on whether their investigation helped or harmed her.

  “You’re welcome,” he said as he got out of the car. Kelley was used to opening doors for herself, but by the time she reached for the handle, he had beaten her to it.

  She smiled as she stood, her eyes locked onto his. Something arced between them. Something that made her belly—and below—liquefy like lava. “See you,” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” he said so huskily that her knees nearly buckled. “Yeah, you will,” he continued more forcefully, drawing his eyes away. “I’m comi
ng in.” He stood with his hand on the door to the back seat so she couldn’t retrieve Jenny.

  Her mood changed so fast it dizzied her. “Don’t you wait to be asked?”

  “Not when the choice is either inviting myself in or spending another night twisted into pretzels out here.” He tapped his SUV.

  “You don’t need to do, either.” She tried to reach around him for the door handle.

  He again blocked her. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Why? Do you think I’ll sneak out and start another fire?”

  The infuriated glitter in his eyes told her she shouldn’t even joke about that. “Could be. Or could be you were nearly run over a couple of nights ago, and today something scared your daughter. Plus, though Colleen could have kissed me for bringing in those files, she’d be all too happy to castrate me like a steer on her ranch if I lost a suspect while zoning out at my apartment in front of late night TV.”

  “What do you mean, ‘lost’?”

  Instead of answering, he pulled open the back door and unhooked Jenny from the seat belt in the child seat they’d transferred from Kelley’s car. He lifted her out. “So, Jenny, what’s your favorite bedtime story? I’ll bet it has animals.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jenny said with a big nod.

  “Good, ’cause I’m going to read it to you.” Without giving Kelley time for further protest, he headed for the front door.

  Damn controlling man! She wanted to shout something nasty at him. But not in front of Jenny.

  And what if they were in danger…?

  She opened the deadbolt without another word, only to hear Shawn say, “You still need to get an alarm.”

  Kelley flicked on the light in the entryway, her lips pursed in fury at his presumption.

  And in fear? What if someone could get in?

  What if she was allowing herself to get spooked, just to play into Shawn’s controlling hands?

  In spite of herself, she found herself waiting. Listening. But no one leaped out at them.

  This was her home. Everything would be fine here.

  But Shawn still checked the place out, then returned to the entry where Kelley waited with her daughter.

  “Jenny, honey, go to your room and start getting ready for bed,” Kelley said, scooting her daughter down the hall in that direction. She turned back to Shawn. “Thanks again, but it’s really time for you to leave now.” The brightness of her tone, assumed for Jenny’s sake, belied the determined set to her jaw as she regarded him icily, waiting for him to go.

  “I don’t think so.” He walked down the hall instead of toward the door.

  “He’s going to read me my favorite an’mal book,” Jenny said from in front of them.

  They were ganging up on Kelley, and she didn’t like it. “Shawn can read you your book,” she finally conceded. “Then he’s going back to his home. Aren’t you, Shawn?”

  It was a question she shouldn’t have asked. He clearly regarded it as a challenge, and the answer was written in the stubborn amusement in his cool blue eyes. “We’ll see,” he said.

  Kelley hurried Jenny through her usual routine of bathing, changing into pajamas and brushing her teeth. She leaned against the bedroom wall while Shawn and Jenny laughed over the antics of a talking dog in one of Jenny’s favorite stories. They both seemed to enjoy themselves.

  She, too, found herself enjoying Shawn’s mellow baritone as he read the humorous tale. Watched how the obviously strong man gently hugged her daughter. How this man who normally seemed ill at ease with kids let down his guard with Jenny.

  Soon, the story was over. Jenny yawned. “’Night, Shawn.”

  “Good night, Jenny. See you in the morning.”

  But not here, Kelley’s mind told the intrusive man. She glared it at him, too. A corner of his wide mouth quirked, as if he heard her thoughts and they amused him.

  She nearly melted as he gave Jenny a big hug and kiss, and her daughter, wearing a big, sleepy smile, kissed him back. The scene was so sweet and domestic that a deep yearning bloomed inside Kelley, wrapping around her heart and squeezing. If only she could provide Jenny with a happy bedtime like this every night. If only it could be with someone like Shawn…

  Hardly, the wisest part of her brain sneered. He didn’t seem the domestic type. And he’d been sent to investigate her.

  They walked down the hall in silence. When they reached the entry, Kelley put her hand on the doorknob. “Thanks again,” she said. “As you can see, we’re fine here. I’ll lock the door behind you. Maybe I’ll even consider getting an alarm system.”

  “Kelley, I’m staying.”

  “No!” Expecting this, she expressed her outrage in her tone and then glared at him. He hadn’t bothered yet to ask if he could stay. He’d told her.

  The thing was, a part of her perversely wanted him to stay.

  Perversely wanted him. Here. In her home. Now.

  Shawn Jameson was the best-looking hunk of male sexiness she had met in a long time. Probably forever. But it wasn’t just his looks that attracted her. He was so kind to Jenny.

  And though he wanted something from Kelley—confessions of misdeeds she couldn’t give—he was kind to her, too. And protective. But what was he expecting to defend them from here? Renegade ambulance drivers? Menacing forgers who slipped false pieces of paper into hospital files?

  She didn’t want to feel protected by this man, but she did. And insanely, incredibly attracted to him.

  All the more reason to make him leave. Now. Before she let another domineering man try to convince her she had to obey his every command. He wouldn’t succeed, of course. But she wouldn’t even give him the chance.

  She began to unlock the deadbolt, but he stayed her with a firm grip on her wrist. “Put on a pot of decaf, okay? I’ve a feeling we’re about to have a long talk.”

  “Put it on yourself!” she exploded as this last order put a match to a very short fuse. “The kitchen is right down there.”

  He looked at her with a tawny brow raised quizzically. An instant later, as she followed his quick, sure stride down the hallway of her house, she realized that this man, with his damned commanding manner, was getting his way after all.

  “SO, DO YOU WANT to explain why you’re suddenly acting like I’m a loathsome disease you want to eradicate?”

  Ignoring the compulsion to leave since he clearly wasn’t wanted here, Shawn had made himself at home in Kelley’s compact but well-supplied kitchen. He had found ground coffee, though not decaf, in the freezer, and a six-cup coffeemaker on the gold tile counter. He’d poured water into the carafe at the spotless stainless sink, but had had to ask where to find filters. They were unsurprisingly in a cabinet with other paper products.

  He started the coffee brewing, then planted himself deliberately against the counter, facing her.

  Arms folded, she stared as if he’d suddenly broken out in hives. Her knee-length black skirt vibrated, demonstrating how much she trembled.

  “Does what I’m thinking matter?” she growled in response to his query.

  Maybe it was trite, but the woman sure looked beautiful when she was mad. Of course, Kelley looked beautiful all the time.

  And damned if he was going to take her into his arms, as he wanted to do, when he had no idea why she was so furious. She’d probably scratch his eyes out. Or some other equally vital part of his anatomy. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him, which was fine with him. It had to be.

  “Take a breath, Kelley,” he made himself say softly, “and—”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” She turned away and sat at the small pine table in the corner. When she looked up again, she’d wilted. “Please leave.” Her voice was hoarse. A plea.

  If he were a gentleman, he’d obey. But in his current incarnation, he was a cowboy and an undercover operative. There was no gentleman in that equation.

  He slid a mug beneath the stream of brewing coffee to take half a cup, then returned the carafe to its place and sat down in
a chair facing her.

  “Sorry, Kelley, but I’d be worried about your safety. Yours and Jenny’s.”

  “What is it you’re really concerned about?” Uneasiness shadowed her soft brown eyes.

  “Damned if I know. But something bothered Jenny today and she won’t talk about it. And though I tried to make sure we weren’t followed, if someone knows you’re with me and we went to the ICU office, that someone could get a bit perturbed.”

  “What someone?”

  “If I knew, I’d take care of him—or her—and wouldn’t worry you about it.”

  “You’re talking in riddles, Shawn.” Kelley sounded exhausted. She looked exhausted. So what if she wanted nothing to do with him? He wanted to take her into his arms so much now they ached.

  Instead, he rose and got her a cup of the fully brewed coffee. When she took it from him, their hands touched. She didn’t pull away. He felt more scorched than if he’d poured the steaming liquid over himself.

  He was the one to remove his hand from hers. She reddened and took a sip of coffee.

  “It’s like this,” he told her gently. “Either you’re paranoid, or someone is out to get you.”

  She laughed mirthlessly.

  “No joke,” he said. “If you didn’t set that fire, then someone else did and is willing to let you take the blame. I now have good reason to believe you have no motive to commit arson. Meantime, you’ve been blamed for bad doctoring. When you started to redeem yourself with that Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever diagnosis, somebody didn’t like it one bit.”

  Kelley’s eyes no longer looked tired as they widened in surprise. “The ambulance incident was because people were, for once, acknowledging I did something right? That’s far-fetched.”

  “Far-fetched is my business. So’s ‘what if.’ Bear with me. You’re in the proverbial doghouse again, what with that chart from the Silver Rapids flu file being found.” He held up his hand. “I know it was probably manufactured, but its existence means you’re Dr. Do-wrong again. That could be good for your health, if not your reputation. However, what if someone has figured out who I am and why I’m there?”