Anytime Darlin' (8 page)

Jake threw on a pair of faded jeans and pulled a black tee shirt over his still-damp hair. It was snowing, so he added a wool sweater, stepped into his worn hiking boots. Grabbing his leather jacket, he headed out to his pickup. Mary said that Shauna and Scott were coming by to talk to Devlin in about an hour. Jake intended to get there first. He’d already called Mike to give him the heads-up. Mike said if he could get away, he’d stop by too. Jake didn’t ask what Mike was getting away from. His shift didn’t start until 7 p.m. Jake figured it was none of his business, but he couldn’t suppress a grin. He knew whatever Mike was getting away from had big brown eyes. Mike had Devlin to thank for that fortunate turn of events.

Jake entered the ICU and found Mary at the desk, chatting with Ray Walters. Though Ray Walters wore a gruff exterior, in reality, he was a kind, old-fashioned sort of country doctor. Jake knew he’d grown quite protective of Devlin over the past week. He’d dropped by at odd hours, popping his head into the room, asking Jake if he’d noticed any change in her condition, checking with the nurses frequently. Jake guessed he wanted to be present in case Devlin crashed again. News of her aunt’s murder would very likely be devastating, and they all knew it.

“Mind if I go in?” asked Jake.

“Since when do you ask?” teased Mary.

“Since I don’t know how much she knows.”

Mary and Dr. Walters both sighed.

“She suspects,” commented Dr. Walters. “She doesn’t know anything for sure.”

Mary leaned her elbows on the desk and looked down for a moment. “My mom and I have talked about it. We don’t know who should be the one to tell her, but neither of us wants it to be the police.”

“How would your mom feel if you and I were right there with her?” Jake asked. “I’ve been with Devlin during the worst of it, and maybe I could say the words, but she really has no idea who I am.”

Mary considered. “My mom thinks she can tell her, but no matter who says the words, it won’t be easy for Devlin to hear them.”

“Well, standing here isn’t gonna make it any easier. Let’s get it over with.”

“Mind if I tag along, just in case?” asked Dr. Walters. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Please,” Mary responded, “Devlin wouldn’t have made it without you. Honestly, I can’t thank you enough.” She gave him a quick hug. He blushed, teasing her with an “aw shucks” look.

Jake heard them trailing behind as he strode to the door of Devlin’s cubicle. She lay on her side, facing the door, hands folded beneath her cheek, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Jake smiled. Devlin must have managed a shower again, because someone, probably Delores, had braided Devlin’s long hair, and the thick, wavy, wet auburn plait lay across her shoulder, the sheet damp beneath it.

As always, Jake was struck by her innocence and frailty and enraged by what was done to her. It was a visceral reaction, like someone had hit him in the gut every single time he saw her. He ached to run his fingers along her pale cheek, to smooth her unruly hair with his rough palm, to gather her in his arms and hold her close. He clenched his fists as he stepped forward into the room to physically stop from reaching for her. He reminded himself that there was a big age difference between them, and he didn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression. He wouldn’t abuse Devlin’s trust.

* * * *

Devlin opened her eyes and stretched a welcoming hand toward Jake. He was at her side in a heartbeat.

She took his big hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still raspy from the ET tube, “for staying with me.”

“How did you know?” Jake seemed surprised.

“I felt you,” Devlin answered, smiling up at him. Jake grinned back at her like a schoolboy.

“Anytime, darlin’,” he answered. “Anytime.”

* * * *

Despite the ever-present worry about her aunt, when Devlin opened her eyes and found Jake standing in the doorway looking at her with such open emotion on his face, she felt a surge of joy so strong that she reached for him without thinking. She had come back to life because he drew her back. And she didn’t even know his last name. That was something she intended to remedy. Devlin’s memories of the past week might be vague, but she knew Jake had been an integral part of everything she’d been through since she opened her eyes. She’d told him her name, and whether he knew it or not, whether he wanted it or not, she’d given him her heart.

“I’m Devlin Barre,” she said, enjoying the feel of his rough, calloused hand in hers.

“Jake McKenna, ma’am,” he answered, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Devlin’s youth and natural vivacity bubbled to the surface. She began to laugh. It might not be the most opportune moment, but she couldn’t help it. Her mother had always laughed at the unexpected. When something awkward happened, something uncomfortable, but somehow funny too, her mom would practically, as her dad used to say, split a gut. She’d laugh so hard she’d roll on the floor, and pretty soon, the entire family would be laughing with her, and whatever it was didn’t seem so awkward anymore.

Mary’s mother, Delores, who had known Devlin’s mother all her life, caught on immediately. Within seconds, she was laughing along with Devlin, grabbing at the box of tissues to wipe her eyes. Dr. Walters joined in and, finally, Mary.

Jake appeared confounded at first, but in the end, he couldn’t seem to help himself. As if Devlin’s laughter was contagious, he caught it as well. Before she knew it, he was leaning against the wall, laughing so hard he shook the glass window.

From beneath thick lashes, Devlin watched Jake let go of his control, throw back his head, and give himself over to the moment. This tall, rugged man had saved her life. She thought he was the most beautiful human being she’d ever seen. She knew she would be forever connected to him. Watching him laugh, his smile wide and white and wolfish, openly sexy, and utterly sincere, Devlin had an epiphany. She realized to the very core of her being that she loved this stranger. She knew, with the absolute clarity only trauma can elicit, that one day she would be with him, in every way a woman could be with a man.

When their laughter faded and an uncomfortable silence descended, Devlin decided she’d better take matters into her own hands.

“My aunt Caroline is dead.”

No one answered immediately.

Delores placed a comforting hand on Devlin’s arm. “Yes, honey, she’s gone.”

Devlin’s expression went blank. She took a quick survey of the faces in the room, hating the pity she saw. The last thing she wanted was pity. Right now, she was poised on a tightrope, balanced between sanity and hysteria, and she had to stay perfectly still. Pity could tip her the wrong way. She glanced at Jake. If he felt sorry for her, she was lost. To Devlin’s great relief, he appeared furious, furious enough to kill someone. With a sigh, she drew strength from his fury.

“Where is he?” she asked, relieved to hear only a slight hitch in her voice.

“Thailand, last anyone knew,” answered Jake, not bothering to hide his anger.

Devlin heard a commotion at the desk as Shauna, her partner Scott, Mike, and Cherie, the Social Services officer, entered the ICU. Jake moved closer to Devlin as Dr. Walters and Mary went to head off the troops. Mary’s mother rose to her feet. Devlin slipped a tentative hand into Jake’s, reassured when he squeezed back. ,

“Devlin,” began Mary, “the police need to ask you some questions. Are you up to it?”

“Yes,” answered Devlin, her voice quivering. “Tell me what happened to my aunt, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to help you.”

Shauna stepped forward, laying a tape recorder on the overbed table. Her voice compassionate, she said, “She was shot, once in the chest. The day you were brought into the hospital. She died instantly.”

The room was silent for a moment, all eyes on her. Even Jake waited for her to crumble, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared straight ahead. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten sick, she’d still be alive.”

Mary stepped up. “Devlin, you know better than that. Carolyn’s death is not your fault.”

Cherie started to interrupt, but Shauna spoke up first. “It appears your uncle killed her. We assume he found out you were here, although we don’t know how. As far as we can tell, he didn’t find out from anyone who was involved in your case. We didn’t even identify you until the next morning.”

Devlin pulled her hand from Jake’s. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her hands. Jake perched next to her on the edge of the bed.

Devlin took a deep breath. “She died because I didn’t get back there in time to kill him first.”

Other than the ping of the heart monitor, the room was absolutely silent.

“There’s an old saying my dad mentioned once,” continued Devlin. “I don’t remember right now where it came from. It goes like this, ‘If your enemy is coming to kill you at eight, get up at seven and kill him first.’ I intended to go back and kill him. I thought I had more time. I was wrong.”

For a long time, nobody said a word.

“I need to record your statement,” interrupted Shauna, breaking the silence. “Are you feeling up for that?”

Devlin nodded. “Can I ask a favor before we start?”

“Of course,” replied Shauna.

“There are too many people in the room,” she said. , Nervous, she pulled at the sheet.

“Okay people, clear out,” ordered Shauna.

Jake started to get off the bed, but Devlin tugged him back down and held tight to his hand.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Just don’t look at me, that’s all I ask. You too.” She motioned at Mike. “I remember you from the first night in the emergency room. You’re the officer who found me.”

Mike introduced himself. Devlin took the hand he offered and thanked him.

Mary and Dr. Walters exited the cubicle. Mary’s mother gave Devlin’s arm a comforting pat before she followed them, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Shauna clicked on the tape recorder.

“Start with the accident,” she instructed.

“My dad had a year’s sabbatical, and he was taking us to France. He was researching the Duchy of Aquitaine. It was his area of expertise,” Devlin explained with a shrug. “His obsession, I guess you’d say. I’m named for the woman he considered the most influential in the medieval world, Eleanor of Aquitaine. My dad was fascinated by her, and he planned to research the transfer of power, real power, through a daughter as opposed to a son. We’d packed up and spent the night at my grampa’s farm. He and my gramma were going to drive us to the airport in Omaha the morning. Our flight to Chicago left at nine on a Sunday morning, so we needed to be on our way by six.”

“Why didn’t your parents use your vehicle? Why did your grandparents drive you?” interrupted Shauna.

“My parents left our car in Grinnell for a visiting professor to use. We were doing a house trade—his family would live in our house, and we’d live in theirs. So, my grampa drove up to Grinnell and picked us up. We planned to take my grandparents’ station wagon to the airport, but when we got up that morning, it wouldn’t start. My dad and my grampa tried jumper cables, but the engine still wouldn’t turn over, and it was getting late, so my grampa pulled out his old blue van. The only other vehicle was the pickup, but six people wouldn’t fit into the pickup, so we took everything out of the station wagon, threw it in the back of the van, and left.”

“Where did your grandfather keep the van parked?”

“It was usually parked behind the barn, under an overhang. He didn’t drive it much. Mostly my gramma and grampa used the pickup around the farm and the station wagon for groceries, errands, stuff like that. He just kept the van in case of emergencies.”

“So it was parked outside?”

“Could you see it from the house? I mean, if you were to look out the windows of the house, would you have a view of the van?”

“No,” replied Devlin, frowning. “You could only see the van if you were on the back side of the barn or if you were walking or driving up from the pasture. You couldn’t see it from the house or from the road to the house.”

Devlin realized what Shauna was getting at. She paused for a moment, her eyes glued to the far wall of the cubicle.