Authors: Debra Webb
While her tea steeped, she prowled through the cupboards until she found a package of her favorite cheese straws. With her teacup and snack ready, she settled on the sofa with her notes. Sean wandered into the room, but she kept her attention on the notes. From the corner of her eye, she noticed he’d donned the same trousers and his shirt was only partly buttoned. She refused to look directly at him. She certainly didn’t need to see any part of that body uncovered.
She sipped her tea and nibbled on the cheese straws. A short list of potential places where she and McCorkle may have run into each other was easy enough to make. A few boutique shops that catered to the professional woman. The dry cleaner. The municipal building. As an architect, McCorkle would likely be in and out checking property lines and zoning ordinances. Amber followed court cases. She spent a good deal of time at or around the city offices. Town hall meetings.
The same possibilities were true of Pettie, as well. Since she had worked for a law firm, they may have been involved with the same case at some point. Amber didn’t recognize either woman beyond the reports she’d seen about their abductions and the subsequent discovery of their bodies. But then, she was usually so focused on her assignment she often had tunnel vision.
If she could get her hands on Adler’s credit card records, nailing down shops and restaurants he frequented would help tremendously. Corlew was working on the phone records. Maybe he could get the man’s credit card records, too.
Amber blinked. Her cup found its way to the saucer hard enough that it was a miracle it didn’t crack the fine china. Her mouth felt numb. She set her notes aside and tried to stand. Her legs were rubbery. Saliva leaked from her mouth. She wiped it away.
What the hell?
“You okay?”
Sean stood beside her. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved.
“I don’t know. I feel...” She tapped her lips and tried to swallow all the excess saliva. She swayed, her shoulder bumping into his.
“We’re going to the ER.”
She stared at him. His words were not really making sense to her. “What?”
“Are you drinking the tea from the can on the counter?”
She nodded, or she thought she did.
He sat her down in the nearest chair and disappeared. Her stomach roiled violently. “You’d better get a bag or a bucket.” God, her mouth felt so damned weird. Numb and yet burning.
Sean’s arms were suddenly around her, supporting her. “Let’s go.”
Before she could respond or catch her breath, she was in his car. How had they gotten there so fast?
He handed her a plastic trash bag, and then the car started to move.
Amber closed her eyes and fought the urge to vomit.
“Don’t hold back.” His words floated through the darkness. “Try to get it up.”
As if his suggestion somehow triggered a response in her belly, she hurled.
“Good girl,” he praised.
Funny.
It didn’t feel good at all.
Chapter Nine
University of Alabama–Birmingham
Hospital
Wednesday, October 19, 3:15 a.m.
Sean’s teeth felt ready to crack he’d clenched so long and hard. He’d only relaxed when Amber had stopped vomiting and started to get comfortable. Her mouth wasn’t numb or burning anymore, and she could stand, walk and communicate normally.
“We believe whatever toxin you ingested has broken down in the digestive tract,” Dr. Chaconas explained. We’ve taken the necessary detox precautions and given you lots of fluids. Your vitals are good. I think we’re out of the woods.”
“So I can go home now?” Amber asked, her voice still a little weak.
Chaconas glanced at her chart. “I don’t see any reason to keep you.” He made a few notes on the chart. “Come back here immediately if you experience any more symptoms, and stay hydrated. Check in with your personal physician as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.” Amber accepted the discharge papers.
As soon as the doctor was out the door, Harper came back in. “Looks like you’re going home.”
“Thank God,” Amber said.
“I know you’ve been through a lot,” Harper began, “but we’re gonna need to go through your house again—top to bottom this time.” He glanced at Sean. “I believe it’s best if you stay somewhere else until we determine if there’re any other toxins in your home. We wouldn’t need more than a day or two and we should know within the next forty-eight hours what was in your tea. Is that doable?”
“My parents are out of town. I could...” Amber began. She frowned as if attempting to decide what to say next.
“She’ll be staying with me.”
Sean was as startled by the announcement as Amber appeared to be. Harper looked from one to the other and gave a nod. “I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed.
Amber drew in a big breath. “Whatever it takes.”
“Good. We’ll be in touch with updates.”
When Harper was gone Sean offered Amber a hand as she hopped off the exam table. She swayed a bit; he steadied her.
“I, ah...” She moistened her lips. “I should probably call my sister.”
Sean guided her into the corridor and toward the doors that would take them back to the lobby. “I believe I mentioned that when we first arrived.”
“You’re going to say I told you so? After what I just went through?”
He opened the passenger-side door. When she was settled in the seat, he passed her his cell. “You make the call—I’ll get you someplace safe.”
Sean rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. He told himself he was doing the right thing. She couldn’t go back home. She was his responsibility. It was his job to keep her safe. B&C Investigations didn’t have a safe house as of yet. There was no need to wake up Jess or Buddy at this hour. He’d made the right decision.
Amber spoke quietly to her sister. Her sister wasn’t so calm. Sean could hear the concern in her voice as she demanded answers. Amber responded steadily. He had to hand it to the lady, she was a trouper. She’d puked her guts out and was weak as a kitten, but she’d hung in there. While she had been undergoing the barrage of tests, he’d called Harper and notified him of the turn of events.
He was confident in his decision to take her home with him. Then why the hell was his gut in knots? Maybe because the last client he’d taken home with him had ended up dead.
His palms started to sweat. His heart raced. Now that they were driving away from the safety of the hospital, Amber was calmer than he was and she was the one who’d been poisoned.
Sean tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
You’ve got this, man. Shake it off.
“Well.” Amber passed his cell back to him. “That went over like a lead balloon.”
“Yeah, big sisters like to be called during the crisis, not after.” Another one of those life lessons he’d learned the hard way.
Sean braked for the traffic signal. The street lamp chased away the darkness between them. Despite the unpleasantness of the past few hours, a faint smile tilted her lips. “I see. You have an older sister?”
“Five years older and fifty times smarter.” He laughed. “In her opinion, of course.”
“Which is the only opinion that counts.”
A smile tugged at his lips, and he relaxed a fraction. “Definitely.”
The city was quiet at this hour. Back in high school he’d liked this time of the morning better than any other time of the day. The night was over, but it wasn’t quite daylight...a fresh start. Anything was possible.
He had clung to that motto all the way up to the morning—about this time—when he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
Sean checked his mirrors once more to ensure he wasn’t being tailed, then he hit the remote to raise the overhead door of his garage. Once they were inside, he shut off the engine and closed the door. He hopped out and unlocked the door that led into the kitchen.
Amber closed her door and leaned against the car. “I hope you have something I can borrow to sleep in.” She pulled at her tee. “This is a little gross.”
“I’m pretty sure I can come up with something.”
Sean flipped on the lights as he entered the house ahead of her. He didn’t have a security system like the one she had, but he had something even better.
Rebel sat in the middle of the kitchen, staring expectantly at his master. The tan-and-white boxer turned his attention to Amber. Amber stalled.
Sean patted his leg. “Come on over here, boy. He’s the friendliest dog you’ll ever meet.”
“He’s big.”
“He’s a teddy bear. Take a break, buddy.” Sean pointed to the back door. Rebel bounded to it and scooted out the doggy door. “Follow me,” he said to Amber, “and I’ll get you settled.”
“Why didn’t he bark when he heard us coming?”
“He knows the sound of my car.” He paused at the door to the spare bedroom. “Trust me—if anyone besides me had come into this house, Rebel would have taken him down.”
“Who takes care of him when you’re not here?” She surveyed the room as she asked the question.
His home was a classic bungalow, not nearly as large as hers, but with a decent-size yard for Rebel. It was on a quiet street in a nice neighborhood. “My sister. She helps with rescued dogs. That’s how I got Rebel. No one else wanted him since he’s kind of big and he’s a little past his prime.”
“So you took him.” Amber smiled, the genuine article despite how lousy she no doubt still felt. “I would never have guessed you have such a soft side.”
“Do me a favor, don’t tell anyone. It would wreck my image.”
She held up a hand. “Your secret is safe with me. Besides, I’m expecting you to keep any and all descriptions of my projectile vomiting to yourself.”
“No one will ever know,” he promised.
“I could use a shower, the sooner the better, and something to sleep in.” She tugged at her tee again and made a face.
“And bottled water,” he reminded her.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Right.”
Sean rounded up a couple of bottles of water, a toothbrush and a Crimson Tide T-shirt. Amber was already in the hall bath, frowning at her reflection.
“I look like hell.”
He placed the water and toothbrush on the counter and passed her the tee. “You look damned good considering. If you need anything else, just let me know. I’m at the end of the hall.”
She touched his arm, stopping him. Even through the fabric of his shirt the contact sparked the desire already simmering in his veins.
“Thanks, Sean. I’m really glad you were there to take care of me.”
He nodded and headed for his room. He needed a shower, too. A long, cold one.
8:15 a.m.
A
MBER
STARED
AT
the broth Sean had prepared for her. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can do this.” She had no appetite. She felt like hell. Her stomach still felt queasy and crampy.
“Just following the instructions on the discharge papers.” Sean sipped his coffee.
Amber groaned. He was right. She needed to follow the doctor’s orders. Slowly, she lifted the spoon to her lips and tasted. Her stomach clenched, but she kept going. One spoonful after the other, until she emptied the bowl. She washed it down with plenty of water. When she was finished, she pushed the bowl away and summoned a smile. “I feel better already.”
Sean gave that one-sided grin that somehow made him even more handsome. “Liar.”
She laughed. “Yeah. I feel...” She groaned. “Quite blah and very grateful for your quick thinking.”
He gave a nod. “It’s nice to be the hero from time to time.”
Amber studied him a long moment. He really was a nice guy and completely committed to the job. She didn’t see him as the type to fail a client. There had to be more to the story. “You know pretty much everything about me. I’d like to know more about you.”
His relaxed expression hardened the slightest bit. “You know all the important stuff.”
“Wives? Kids? Significant others?”
“Nope, nope and nope.”
“You’ve never been married or engaged?”
He shook his head.
“Long-term relationships?” She reminded herself to sip her water.
“A couple. Nothing particularly memorable.” He stared into his coffee.
“What really happened in LA?” She snapped her lips together. She actually hadn’t been planning to blurt out the question.
He studied her for a long moment before he answered. “I made a mistake.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said before, but I think there’s a lot more to it than just a mistake.” She smoothed a hand over her ponytail. She’d been too exhausted to dry her hair after her shower. Her only option when she’d gotten up was to restrain the wild mass of curls. “I just feel like I deserve full disclosure from the man who’s seen me at my absolute worst.”
His lips quirked with the need to smile in spite of that stony profile. “I guess you have a point there.”
Anticipation zinged through her. “So, let’s hear it.”
“Lacy James was smart and talented. And beautiful,” he said, awe in his voice. “No matter that I worked extra hard to stay focused on the job, I was mesmerized by her. She had this ethereal beauty and incredible depth of soul that no one ever saw onstage.”
“She was incredibly talented and beautiful,” Amber agreed, feeling strangely jealous of the way he described her. For the first time in ages she longed to know a man saw her that way.
“I’d been in LA for six long years. I was lonely. I’d dated plenty between assignments but nothing serious. I was almost twenty-nine and maybe I was feeling the need for something real.”
Amber’s stomach took a little dive, and she was reasonably sure it wasn’t about the poison. She’d been feeling exactly that way—as if something was missing in her life. No matter that her career had taken off; something was still lacking. She needed more than work. More than coming home to an empty house and an equally empty bed. But how did she trust anyone with her heart? The world was so full of people who cared only for themselves. In her profession she saw so much
fake
—it felt impossible to sort the real from the make-believe. Oddly, this moment—this man—felt real.
“The next thing I knew we were...together.” He fell silent for a moment. “She had a short break before the next leg of her tour started, and we never left the house. It felt exactly like what was missing in my life. It felt real and good, and I wanted it to last forever.”
Amber watched the pain clutter his handsome face. The memories still hurt even though a year had passed. Was he still in love with her memory?
“When I was briefed on the assignment, her agent warned me not to trust her. She was never allowed to overindulge in alcohol, and if I spotted drugs, I was to get her out ASAP.” His gaze met Amber’s, and the agony there tugged at her heart. “Lacy was an addict. Had been since she was thirteen. When we met she’d been straight for two years.”
“No one is responsible for what an addict chooses to do,” Amber reminded him softly.
He nodded. “I know. But that doesn’t change the responsibility I feel. I was with her 24/7 for weeks. I took my eyes off her for one minute at a party while she went to the bathroom and she scored. That night after I went to sleep, she overdosed on cocaine. She was sitting right there in the room watching me. I didn’t even know she’d gotten out of bed.” He stood and gathered her bowl and spoon. “That’s what happens when you get too comfortable. Your sense of caution becomes dulled. You miss things. Lacy’s dead because I didn’t see how getting personally involved with me made her feel out of control. Made her wish for things she couldn’t have if she wanted to keep her career on track.”
“Are we all doomed to that choice?” Amber bit her lips together. She hadn’t meant to say those words out loud. What was it about this man that made her feel the need to be so forthcoming? “I mean, can’t a woman or a man have an astonishingly successful career and a personal life? Why do we have to choose only one?”
“There’s a career,” Sean said, his tone somber, “and there’s a
career
. When you choose the latter, there’s nothing else. It’s all-encompassing. After the funeral, the one trusted friend she had told me I reminded Lacy how much she regretted the choices she’d made. She’d given up everything—her first love, the child they’d had together—to follow her dream. Falling in love again sent her hurtling back into the pain and loss.”
Amber stood and pushed in her chair. “It isn’t fair that she had to give up one or the other. Why couldn’t she have had both?” Her heart was pounding. What she was really asking was why couldn’t she have both? What made women like her—like her sister and Gina and even Jess Burnett—believe they had to give up a real life for their careers? Though the dilemma rarely affected men the same way, Sean seemed to be stuck in that same place.
“It took me nearly a year of soul-searching and no small amount of counseling to come to terms with the answer to that question, Amber. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
She blinked, taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Lacy couldn’t have both because she was an addict. Staying completely focused on her career helped her keep it together—helped her stay clean. I disrupted the rhythm she’d come to depend on. I should have recognized the issue, but I was too infatuated, too caught up in my own needs. I failed to do my job, and for that I’m in part responsible for her death.”