Critical Condition. Sandra Orchard

Tara had helped Suzie into her shoes and zipped up her ladybug jacket, her favorite, Zach had returned. He came through the back door. “The media is here. I’ve parked my truck at the neighbor’s house behind this one. If we exit through the backyard, we won’t be spotted.” He turned to Tara’s mother. “If they come to the door, perhaps you could say this has been quite a shock and your daughter is resting. That way they’ll assume she’s still here.”

      “Yes, I can do that.”

      He whisked Tara and Suzie outside, and within minutes they were headed back to Miller’s Bay.

      Tara gave him directions to her street, and then they lapsed into silence. As they passed the hospital, she said, “Why did you call me this afternoon?”

      “I went looking for you to ask about your run-in with Whittaker. Nurse Bradshaw told me you went home sick.”

      “You heard about Whittaker?” She replayed in her mind their encounter outside the medicine locker. Did she really think he was capable of sweet-talking his patients into bequeathing their life’s savings to the hospital, and then killing them to speed delivery?

      Zach glanced at her, his forehead puckered. “I was there. Remember?”

      “O-o-oh.” She drew out the word to three syllables. “You’re talking about the first incident.”

      His eyes widened. “What do you mean, first?”

      Tara glanced over her shoulder at her ever-watchful daughter. “Perhaps we should talk about this later.”

      His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror. “Good idea.” A few minutes later, he pulled into her driveway. “Wait here while I make sure it’s safe.”

      “Um...” Her gaze darted from one window to the next. “I feel like a sitting duck. Don’t you think it’d be safer if we all went in together?”

      The muscle in his jaw twitched, telling her he didn’t like the idea. He scanned the neighbors’ yards and the street. “Okay, let’s go.”

      By the time Tara had gathered her things and climbed from the truck, Zach had Suzie unbuckled. He held out his palm. “Give me your keys.”

      With Suzie’s safety paramount in her mind, she handed them over and took her daughter from his arms.

      He unlocked the front door and hesitated as if bracing for an assault or explosion of some kind.

      “What is it?”

      He shook his head and moved inside. “Shut the door and wait here while I check the rest of the house.”

      The tender concern in his voice washed over her like a gentle rain, swishing away the tension that had knotted her stomach. She nudged a few pairs of tiny shoes out of his path. “Excuse the mess.”

      “You have a three-year-old. Messes go with the territory,” he said, winking at her. “Nothing to apologize for.”

      His wink did funny things to her heart. Someone who didn’t care about kids’ messes might tempt her to reconsider her no-dating rule.

      Right. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to find herself attracted to a guy if she’d tried. And, boy, was she attracted.

      She hugged Suzie tighter. Now was not the time to entertain such thoughts. Someone had shot at her tonight. Maybe intentionally.

      * * *

      Zach let his gaze skim over the living room and adjoining dining area. A poufy sofa and chair filled a couple of walls. A bookcase, its bottom shelves loaded with toys and picture books, adorned a third wall, and a large bay window encompassed the fourth. Recessed ceiling lights bathed the room in a warm glow. “Your place looks great. Homey.”

      Tara’s lips curved into a smile that chased away the shadows around her eyes. “Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

      Uncertain how to respond, he ducked his head and murmured, “Stay put until I get back.” He searched the two bedrooms, inspected the closets and under all the beds, and then checked the bathroom, kitchen and basement, assessing every window and door. Although reassured to find no evidence of an attempted break-in, he nevertheless put in a call to Rick.

      Returning to the living room, he found Tara and Suzie sitting in an armchair, reading a picture book. The sight clogged his throat.

      He coughed to clear it. “The place looks safe enough, so I went ahead and asked Detective Gray to send over a female officer to stay with you. I also ordered a pizza. I figured you might be hungry.”

      She fluttered her fingers through Suzie’s hair. “I still don’t feel up to eating, but I’m sure Suzie will appreciate it.”

      “Mmm,” the little girl agreed, before scurrying over to her toy shelf.

      Tara picked up her lunch bag and purse. “I guess I might as well chuck what’s left of this macaroni salad.” She opened the back door off the kitchen and scraped the contents from her container into the compost bucket.

      “You need to eat something. Do you have crackers? They might settle your stomach.”

      She pulled a bag of soda crackers from the cupboard, plugged in the kettle for tea and then turned circles.

      “Relax. Sit down,” Zach said in the most soothing voice he could muster, considering what her restlessness was doing to him. “Tell me what happened with Whittaker.”

      “Oh.” She placed her hands on the table, continuously clasping and unclasping her fingers. She must’ve noticed that the habit caught his attention, because she dropped her hands into her lap.

      “Start by telling me why Whittaker grabbed your arm in the lobby.”

      “He said that I looked like I might faint or something.”

      Zach nudged the package of crackers toward her. “Did you feel faint?”

      “More like shocked. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Parker’s name on the donation wall. They didn’t have that kind of money to donate. And...” Tara’s explanation came out in a rush.

      “Could’ve been a life-insurance policy. Since they both died the same day, the money would’ve gone to the beneficiaries of the estate. Or maybe, memorial gifts were made in their memory. I can check into it. It is a little suspicious.”

      “A little? Dr. Whittaker outright said to me that the less attention drawn to the Parkers’ deaths, the better. So people wouldn’t get the wrong idea.”

      “But he didn’t imply that the deaths and the hospital’s windfall were actually connected?”

      Her voice rose a notch. “He implied that I’d better keep my mouth shut if I knew what was good for me.”

      “Whittaker actually threatened you?”

      “Not in so many words. But don’t you see? He must’ve charmed the Parkers into changing their will, and then bumped them off.”

      He quirked a brow. “Kind of a big risk for him to take when he doesn’t personally benefit.”

      “Then who do you think it is?”

      “I don’t know, Tara. I don’t know how killing a couple of terminally ill patients can score anyone a payoff.”

      Tara threw up her hands. “Why does it have to have anything to do with personal gain?”

      “It doesn’t. But it usually does.”

      “Well, that scratches the doctors.” She sighed. “They can hardly be in need of more money.”

      “Not necessarily. Many graduate from med school with enormous financial debt.”

      The doorbell rang and Suzie sprang to her feet.

      “No,” Zach chided gently. “You mustn’t open the door unless your mommy