Truth Or Lies. Kylie Brant

get involved in whatever mission drove the man hard enough for him to put his job before his health. She didn’t want to get caught up with the police in any capacity.

      As if her agreement was already determined, he started issuing commands. “When you go in the room, I want you to stand on the side of the bed he’s cuffed on. Don’t go too close. The officer will stay on the other side, and he’ll stop him if he makes a grab for you.”

      “I hardly think I have anything to fear from an I.C.U. patient with only one hand free,” she said dryly.

      His expression was not amused. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him. People who do that have a way of going missing.”

      He turned and headed back toward the room, leaving her to follow more slowly. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she brought out her beeper, as if she could will it to summon her back downstairs. But it remained stubbornly silent. With a sigh, she dropped it back into her pocket and entered the room.

      “Angel Eyes.” LeFrenz’s gaze burned fever-bright. “Thought you might have decided not to join our little party.”

      “Me?” She kept her voice carefully expressionless as she positioned herself near the side of his bed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

      “I was startin’ to think you’d forgotten me down there.” LeFrenz seemed intent on ignoring the policemen in the room. “Figured you’d at least come to check on me.”

      “As I explained to Detective Tremaine, there was no need. You’re under Dr. Lyndstrom’s care now. He’ll do the follow-up visits.”

      “Dr. Lyndstrom don’t have big blue eyes that a guy could drown in.” LeFrenz looked her up and down with an insulting familiarity. “Don’t have long legs like yours, neither.”

      When Shae had worked on LeFrenz in the E.R., he’d been just another patient needing her help. But now there was something revolting about that lascivious expression sitting on his cherubic countenance. Her flesh prickled. She experienced the same sort of revulsion by kicking over a rock and watching the disgusting creatures beneath scuttle for cover. “In the short time you’ll be with us, I think you’ll come to appreciate some of Dr. Lyndstrom’s better qualities.”

      “That’s right, Jonny.” Cade strolled toward the bed. “You aren’t going to be here long enough to get too attached. County lockup has a medical wing, and I’m betting they have a comfortable cot with your name on it. Can’t promise you any good-looking nurses, but hey—” he gave a negligent shrug “—with where you’re going, it’s best you get used to not seeing women, anyway.”

      For the first time the patient pulled his gaze from Shae and looked at the detective. “You don’t have enough to hold me, Tremaine.”

      Derision sounded in the detective’s voice. “What are you, slow or something? I stood over that dying kid’s body and he gave you up as the one who sold him the cocaine. I walk in on you in the middle of bagging your stash, you pull a gun on me and fire while attempting to flee. What part of that doesn’t add up to ‘enough’ for you?”

      Shae had the feeling she’d been all but forgotten. This was a private war, being fought between LeFrenz and Tremaine. The patient’s voice was still cocky when he answered, “Okay, so you’ll get the possession with intent to stick. With the new sentencing laws in Louisiana, I’ll be out in five. You can’t tie the kid to me, though. With him dead, his naming me is hearsay. Ain’t no jury in the world gonna convict on only your word.”

      Tremaine’s face remained remarkably calm. “That might be true under normal circumstances. But that kid was the nephew of the mayor’s wife.” He waited for the news to sink in, noted with satisfaction that LeFrenz had gone a bit paler. “Even you have to figure out what that means.”

      The boy’s death had already received more than the usual attention from the media. High-profile names in a police investigation always invited scandal, and scandal made for good copy. The political spin on this one was to turn the dead boy into an unwitting victim of a murderous drug dealer. The version was close enough to the truth to suit Cade, especially when resulting local sentiments were screams for LeFrenz’s blood.

      “Your only chance of surviving this is to tell me who’s supplying you, Jonny.” No one rose as rapidly as LeFrenz had in the illegal drug market without help. “Give me the name and you become just another cog in the wheel. Cooperation buys a lot of leniency in the courts. Say the word and I can have the D.A. in here working out a deal.”

      He knew he’d gotten to the man when he glanced away, looked at Dr. O’Riley as if he’d read the solution on her impassive face. Despite his impatience at the delay, Cade could hardly blame the man for his distraction. The leggy redhead was difficult to ignore. Today her mane of hair was scraped back in some kind of fancy braid that hung to the center of her shoulder blades. The severe style showed off those high cheekbones, her short straight nose and her come-to-bed eyes. With the white examining coat and the shapeless scrubs she wore, it was difficult to guess at the figure beneath. But that didn’t stop a man’s imagination from filling in the details.

      He’d never lacked for imagination.

      “Whaddaya think, Doc?” Jonny’s voice was conversational. If he’d been shaken by Cade’s earlier remarks, he’d since recovered. “Think I can trust the detective here to play straight with me?”

      A moment passed. Then another. Cade found himself hardly daring to breathe. Shae O’Riley had made no effort to hide her reluctance to be involved in this scene. But instinct told him that reluctance stemmed from more than her unwillingness to leave the E.R. There was something in her voice when she talked to him, something in her eyes that shouted distrust. Since he’d met her just a few days ago, he could only figure it was directed at all cops, not just him. And if that was the case, she was the last person in the world he needed advising his perp.

      But her words, when they came, were noncommittal. “Seems to me you’ve been playing roulette with your choices for some time now. The question is, are you man enough to face the consequences?”

      “Honey, I’m man enough for anything you have in mind.” Cade sprang forward when LeFrenz reached for her with his free hand, but the uniform got to him first, restraining him. Jonny never took his eyes off Shae, just kept talking, his voice low and suggestive. “I’m looking forward to showing you that sometime. You and me, we could have us a real good time.”

      “Make your choice, LeFrenz.” There was a slow burn in the pit of Cade’s belly. Not a little of it was due to the way the punk kept looking at the doctor, as if she was starring in a pornographic movie reel playing in his head. “She can’t help you with this. No one can. But you can help yourself.”

      “Maybe I can cooperate with this detective, Angel Eyes, whaddaya think?” LeFrenz’s attention never swerved from Shae. “Maybe I can even tell him who put those bullets in his chest.” Her breathing stilled. She stared back at the young man, noted the mouth curled in sardonic amusement, so at odds with the angelic face. How did he know about the detective’s injury? She saw the same question reflected on the polished ebony face of the policeman at his side. But the man was too well trained to do more than look at the detective. Her gaze followed the direction of his, met Tremaine’s. His expression was inscrutable.

      “Think that would interest him, Doc?” There was a hard note of glee underlying LeFrenz’s words. “I’m betting it would. I’m betting he’d arrange a pretty fine deal if I was to tell him where to look for the shooter.”

      “Don’t change the subject, LeFrenz. You have one piece of information I want, and that’s pretty simple. Just a name.” Amazingly enough, the detective’s voice sounded bored. “Make it easy on yourself and give it up. Then you can start planning for your retirement.”

      “He don’t believe me,” LeFrenz told Shae confidingly. “I’d think I would. We have something in common, me and him. We both know what it’s like to have a bullet plow into us, to watch the blood pour out. ’Course, I don’t know