Kitabı oku: «Scared to Death», sayfa 2

THREE

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Kate opened her eyes to the gray winter light peering through the curtain, turned her head on the pillow and squinted at the travel alarm perched on the bedside table. Her temples throbbed in sync with the ticking clock.

Eight-fifteen. Later than she’d slept in the last six months.

So why’d she still feel groggy? Probably the drugs Dr. Samuels had given her yesterday at the clinic.

She closed her eyes and started to drift back to sleep. Visions flashed through her mind—the deer, the bridge, the raging water rushing in around her.

Her eyes jerked open. The water receded, replaced by the memory of Nolan’s powerful arms and warm embrace. If he hadn’t saved her—

Don’t go there. Nolan had saved her.

Thank God.

She shook her head ever so slightly. Far as she was concerned, God had nothing to do with it.

But Tina? Tears stung Kate’s eyes. She blinked them away.

Heather’s angry voice echoed in Kate’s mind.

Had she imagined the father-daughter spat? Maybe a dream?

A widower trying to raise a teenage daughter had to be tough. Yet, he’d taken Kate into his home.

As much as she appreciated his hospitality, she needed to get up, assess her situation and head back to Atlanta. Back to—

She sighed. Back to an empty condo and two weeks of worry. Until the board of review made their decision.

No telling the outcome.

Headstrong. That was what Jason had called her. Talking to the reporter had been a foolish mistake. She’d put her position and the lab in jeopardy.

Don’t cry over spilled milk. Her grandfather’s words flowed through her consciousness. Grandda with his Old World practicality. He’d be the first to tell her to focus on the problem at hand.

Cautiously, she eased her arm from under the down comforter and rubbed her forehead. If only the jackhammer pounding through her brain would stop.

Mouth as dry as cotton batting, she ran her parched tongue over chapped lips as her eyes swept the room in the half light.

Oak dresser. Ladder-back chair. A roughly hewn wooden cross nailed to the wall next to an oval mirror.

Closet and two other doors. One hung open, exposing a porcelain sink and shower stall, as inviting as a desert oasis.

She threw back the covers, rolled to her side and gasped. A jolt of white lightning sliced through her left leg.

“Argh!” Falling back on the bed, Kate fought the wave of nausea that rolled over her along with the frigid morning air.

An empty stomach and pain medication didn’t mix. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday—one low-fat granola bar washed down with coffee.

Sucking in a few shallow puffs of air, she waited until the pain subsided, then slowly rose to a sitting position and examined the immobilizer secured around her left leg with Velcro straps. A torn ACL.

Kate didn’t have time for another problem.

Determined to push through the pain, she eased herself to the edge of the bed and carefully lowered her feet to the cold hardwood floor. Putting weight on her good leg, she stood upright.

The room faded into darkness. Kate grabbed the nightstand and waited for her sudden drop in blood pressure to pass. Poised precariously like a flamingo on one foot, she winced as her hurt leg fought against her effort and blinked the room back into focus.

She wouldn’t run any marathons today. Five hops to the bathroom might be more than she could manage.

Trading the support of the nightstand for the dresser, she inched across the room. With every movement, her leg screamed in protest. Finally, she reached the bathroom, slumped against the sink and held her breath until the stabbing pain eased.

Kate glanced at the face looking back at her from the mirror.

Sunken eyes. Pale skin. Twisted matt of hair.

She flipped on the wall switch and sighed when the light failed to work. Electricity must have gone out in the night.

Reaching for the faucet, she turned on the water, lowered her head and gulped the cool liquid pooled in her outstretched hand.

A travel kit of wrapped toiletries sat on the basin. She jabbed a fingernail into the cellophane, grabbed a pocket comb and raked it through her hair, then brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face and toweled dry. What she wouldn’t give for a shower.

Her eyes once again connected with the stranger in the mirror. Not her best day by a long shot.

A white terry-cloth robe hung on a wall hook. Kate snuggled into the thick cotton, left the bathroom and hobbled to the guest-room door.

What would she find on the other side?

Sucking in a fortifying breath, she reached for the knob and pulled. Stairs climbed upward directly outside her room. She grabbed the banister for support and examined the hallway around her.

Photos hung on the wall. Nolan arm in arm with his daughter. A second picture of Heather when she was a little girl. A third of Tina and Nolan sitting side by side at a kitchen table.

Older, more mature, but Tina still flaunted the flirtatious smile and laughing eyes.

A life cut short. Why? Kate’s mind swirled. So senseless.

She let go of the stair railing, reached for the wall and misjudged the distance.

Her right knee buckled. She tumbled forward.

From out of nowhere, arms grabbed her. Pulled her upright.

Kate twisted and stared into Nolan’s dark eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. “You should have called for help.”

“I didn’t expect another crash. Seems you’ve saved me a second time.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You prone to trouble?”

“Not usually.” She found her footing, straightened her shoulders and tried to gracefully extract herself from his hold. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Looks to me like you’re ready to keel over.”

Exactly how she felt. Her blood pressure must be ninety over fifty, the way her head was swimming.

His hands continued to steady her. “Lean against me for support.”

Embarrassed to appear so needy, Kate put weight on her injured leg, then gasped as a hot slice of pain shot through her knee.

Swallow your pride, Kate.

If Nolan wanted to help, why not let him? The world could use a few more heroes.

His arm slid around her waist. “Easy does it.”

Slowly, he guided her through the doorway and into the welcoming interior of the great room. A blazing fire crackled a greeting from a massive stone fireplace on the far wall.

Nolan lowered her into a leather chair, warm from someone’s previous body heat. A half-full cup of coffee sat on the side table. Nolan’s chair.

“Listen, I don’t want to take your—”

“Would you please sit down?” His tone was firm. Then he smiled. “You always so obstinate?”

“My grandfather called me stubborn.”

“I’d have to agree with him.”

Kate wiggled back into the deep cushions as Nolan raised her left leg to the ottoman and covered it with a chenille throw he grabbed off the couch. He tucked the covering around her bare foot before he stood and surveyed his patient.

A sense of gratitude spread over Kate. “I can’t thank you enough. You saved my life last night. Then you took me in. Now you’re waiting on me hand and foot.” She glanced down at her injured leg. “Literally. I’m not used to such treatment.”

“Chalk it up to Southern hospitality. Which reminds me, how do you take your coffee?”

“A little sweetener.”

“Sugar okay?”

“Of course.” She wove her fingers into the folds of the throw. “I really do appreciate your generosity.”

“Not a problem. Besides, you knew Tina.” He shook his head and swallowed. “Still can’t believe it. Tina was a good employee and a friend to Heather.” He sighed. “My daughter and I are both having a hard time.”

“Death’s tough on everyone.”

Nolan’s eyes softened. “Were you and Tina old friends?”

“Since grammar school. The Espinosas lived next door.”

“Guess you heard, Tina’s mom passed away last December. No other living relatives. Her brother died three years ago.”

“I knew about Eddie.” Kate lowered her gaze, hoping her eyes didn’t reflect the pain written on her heart.

“Funny, Tina never mentioned having a friend in Atlanta.”

Kate pulled in a steadying breath. “We’d been out of touch for a few years.”

“Bad timing, huh?”

She jerked her head up. “What?”

“Arriving in town the day she died. Must be tearing you apart.”

How did she feel? Regret? Sorrow? Three years and Kate couldn’t get past the rejection.

“So what brought you to Mercy?” Nolan asked.

“Tina had something that belonged to me. Did she ever mention a gold cross?”

“Not that I recall. Then again, she kept personal matters to herself. Lived in the apartment over the garage.” His eyes flicked over Kate’s injured leg. “Stairs are steep. Don’t suggest you go poking around up there.”

“Of course not.” Had Tina told Nolan about what she’d seen in the woods? She’d said she didn’t trust anyone. Did that include her boss?

“I’ll talk to Heather. Maybe she’s seen the cross. If we find it, we’ll be sure to give it back to you.” Nolan pointed toward the kitchen door. “I’ll get that coffee now.”

Kate watched him leave. On the surface, he seemed like a nice enough guy, and he’d saved her life, for which she’d be eternally grateful. But she needed to be careful. People weren’t always who they seemed.

She shook her head. Lighten up, would you?

Better to focus on the positive.

Kate gazed around the room. Framed photos of Heather sat on the mantel. Tough raising a child alone.

Even harder for a girl who needed a mother’s love. Kate should know. God had robbed her of that luxury, too.

Maybe that was why Tina’s mom had played such an important roll in Kate’s life.

Until the fire had changed their relationship forever.

Kate shook her head, blocking the memory from returning full force. Not today. She had too much to deal with as it was. No need to dredge up the past.

She glanced at the windows to her right. Thick burgundy drapes, held back with tassels, let in a glimpse of the frozen world outside.

In front of her a leather-bound Bible lay open on the coffee table as if Nolan had stopped midverse to tend to her needs.

A door creaked. Kate turned at the sound. Nolan entered the room, along with the mouthwatering smell of sausage and eggs. He set the tray on the coffee table. “I kept breakfast warm for you. Hungry?”

“A bit. Thank you.”

She accepted the plate he offered. A wedge of melon, two sausage patties, scrambled eggs, biscuits. Not her usual fare and far more appealing than a dry breakfast bar. “You must be a miracle maker. Isn’t the power out?”

“I’ve got a gas stove. Comes in handy in this type of weather. And a small generator that works the water pump. I keep a stove-top coffeemaker for these occasions, as well.” He placed a glass of orange juice and mug of coffee on the side table.

The rich aroma made her stomach churn, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.

He shuffled his feet and glanced at the door he’d just walked through. “Holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

Kate reached for the silverware as he left the room and shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Mmm.” The man could cook.

When she finished, she placed the empty plate on the table, closed her eyes and dozed until a knock caused her eyes to fly open. She straightened in the chair and listened.

Heavy steps crossed the hardwood foyer. A door opened.

“Doc.” Nolan’s voice. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make it over this morning. How’re the roads?”

“Could be better. Thank goodness for four-wheel drive.”

“Let me hang up your coat.”

Fabric rustled. She envisioned the doctor shrugging out of his wrap.

“How’s my patient?”

“Resting. She ate breakfast earlier.”

Kate glanced at the side table. The dirty dishes had been replaced with a second glass of juice.

“Still deathly pale,” Nolan continued, his voice drawing closer.

She raked her hand through her hair, a bit self-conscious at being the topic of their discussion.

The door to the foyer opened. Lloyd Samuels burst into the room, bringing a rush of cool air with him.

“Morning, Kate. Looks like Nolan’s taking good care of you.”

She glanced from the doctor to her host and smiled. “He’s been very kind.”

“The nurse forgot to give you these last night.” He placed the wooden crutches he carried on the floor beside her chair. “Should help your mobility. Glad to see you’ve got that leg elevated.”

Reaching for the chenille throw, he asked, “Mind if I take a peek?”

“Not at all.” Kate flipped the cover off her left leg and looked up.

Nolan’s eyes locked on hers. She flushed and looked away.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Nolan stepped toward the kitchen door. “Coffee, Lloyd?”

“Sounds good. Add a little cream, if you’ve got it.”

The doctor bent to examine Kate’s leg. Unfastening the brace, his fingers probed a tender spot. She drew in a sharp breath.

“Sorry. Swelling’s about the same. Use the crutches and keep your weight off that leg for a few more days.”

“I need to get back to Atlanta.”

“Not until the swelling goes down.” He reconnected the immobilizer, then fished a plastic bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Pain medication. I called in a prescription to the pharmacy. These’ll tide you over until the roads clear. Sheriff said the electricity should be on later this evening. By tomorrow morning, things should be back to normal.”

A two-hour drive from Atlanta with a wrecked auto and injured leg, Kate doubted her life would be normal anytime soon. She’d give herself seventy-two hours max to recuperate here in Mercy. Then, she’d return to Atlanta one way or another.

Nolan returned with mugs of coffee and offered one to the doctor, who sipped the hot brew and smacked his lips. “Just what I needed.”

He downed another swig before looking thoughtfully at Nolan. “Where’s Heather?”

“Upstairs. She refuses to leave her room.”

The doctor nodded. “Kids have a hard time accepting death, especially when it’s sudden. I could prescribe something.”

“No.”

The sharpness of Nolan’s response surprised Kate, although she had to agree. Drugs wouldn’t help Heather deal with her grief.

“I know how much Tina meant to Heather.” Doc Samuels cleared his throat. “Like I told you at the clinic, Kate, folks in Mercy loved Tina. She was a committed Christian with a good heart.”

Last night, Kate’s mind had been fuzzy with pain medication. Had she told the doctor about Tina’s phone call? Surely, Lloyd Samuels wasn’t one of the people Tina had said she couldn’t trust.

The doctor looked at Nolan. “Wade said he talked to you about holding Tina’s service as soon as possible. That is, if the weather cooperates.”

Kate readjusted the throw and reached for the coffee Nolan had placed next to her chair.

“You mean Tina’s funeral?” she asked, the mug halfway to her lips. “Why the rush?”

“Another storm’s expected early next week,” the doc replied. “Plus, Mercy’s a small town. News travels. No need to wait for the obit notice in the paper. Most folks work during the week. More of them would be able to pay their respects tomorrow.”

Nolan raised his brow. “Tomorrow?”

“That’s right. Wade wants to take advantage of the lull between the storms.”

Kate slanted another glance out the window. “Isn’t the ground frozen?”

“Not a problem.” The doctor drank again.

She imagined the frigid air blowing over the grave-site. “But—”

He placed the mug on the table and smiled. “Cremation, Miss Murphy. That’s what Tina requested.”

Cremation? No way.

Blame it on a Hispanic upbringing, but cremation had never been an option for the Espinosa family. Eddie’s death had only driven home the point.

Never by fire. Never.

Kate needed to set the doctor straight. “Look, cremation’s not what Tina would have wanted.”

“According to Wade, it’s precisely what she did want,” the doctor insisted.

“You’re saying she prearranged her funeral?”

“Not exactly. But she and Wade talked once Tina realized her condition was life threatening.”

“Pardon?”

The doctor’s nostrils flared. “So Wade would know her preferences in case something unforeseen happened, Miss Murphy.”

His tone was sharp. Maybe he didn’t like his authority questioned.

“Tina was only twenty-nine.” And never one to plan for the future, Kate remembered, keeping the thought to herself.

Lloyd shrugged. “But highly allergic.”

“To what?”

“Latex, Kate. A growing problem. The incidence has increased significantly in the last twenty years or so.”

Kate knew the statistics. “Since medical personnel began wearing gloves on a regular basis. But that’s within the health-care community.”

The doctor turned to Nolan. “Didn’t you say Tina worked as a nurse’s aide out in California?”

“That’s where we met her.”

“Told me she’d had contact dermatitis for years,” Lloyd continued.

“Eczema,” Kate interjected. Tina had always been self-conscious of her rough red skin. An irritating condition but not the result of latex.

“The situation had progressed recently.” The doctor ignored Kate’s diagnosis. “Tina had been concerned. And rightfully so.”

“And that’s what killed her?”

“Seems her car had a blowout on one of the back farm roads. She tried to change the tire. Something triggered a reaction. Maybe the rubber in the tire—” He glanced at Nolan. “Latex is made from rubber.”

“A derivative,” Kate clarified.

The doctor raised a brow and smirked rather condescendingly down at her. “Sounds like you have a scientific background.”

“Chemistry.” She didn’t mention the completed credit hours for her Ph.D.

“Then you understand anaphylactic shock. Ralph Hawkins found her on his property, called the EMTs. Her heart had stopped long before she arrived at the clinic.”

Kate thought of Tina dying all alone on some isolated stretch of country road. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Friends for life. That was what she and Tina had promised one another so long ago.

The doctor reached for the bottle of pills he’d placed on the side table, shook one into his palm and held it out. “You’ve been through a lot, Kate. Take this caplet.”

She didn’t want the pill.

“Come on, now,” he insisted. “I can tell you’re upset. You need to rest.”

She looked from the doctor to Nolan warming himself in front of the fire, his expression impossible to read.

A shiver rolled down Kate’s spine as she recalled his daughter’s words the night before.

Wife dead.

Tina dead.

The common denominator was Nolan.

What had Kate stumbled into?

She grabbed the glass of juice off the table and threw the pill into her mouth.

The doctor turned to shake Nolan’s hand. “Keep me posted on the arrangements.”

“Will do. Appreciate your help, Doc.”

Without a backward glance at Kate, the two men walked toward the door.

As soon as they left the room, Kate spit the pill into her hand. She didn’t need medication to sleep. She needed to keep her eyes wide open. Tina’s death didn’t add up.

If not latex, then what had killed Tina?

FOUR

Nolan said goodbye to Lloyd, then climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped outside Heather’s bedroom.

“Honey?”

He knocked twice, grabbed the knob and twisted.

Locked.

“Can I bring you something, Heather? A cup of tea? Maybe a sandwich?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, her voice muffled by the closed door.

“The electricity will come on soon, but it’s cold up here. You don’t want to get sick.”

“I’m wearing my jacket.”

He pictured her sitting on the canopy bed, bundled in her peacoat and stocking hat, red-eyed and totally confused. Part child, part woman, she waged war with her emotions, trying to stay in control.

Just as she had when Olivia had died.

“I’ll make spaghetti for dinner.” Heather’s favorite. Hunger might coax her from her seclusion. “Why don’t you come down soon?”

No answer.

“You need to eat.”

“Not now, Dad.” Her voice cracked.

The sound slammed against his heart. His baby was too young to carry her cross alone. If only she’d let him into her pain.

Lord, let me be her Simon of Cyrene.

“See you soon, okay?” He listened for a minute, then turned and walked, heavy-hearted, down the stairs.

The door to the great room hung open. Leather chair empty. Crutches gone.

He knocked on the guest room door. “Miss Murphy…Kate, you need anything?”

A muffled “No, thank you,” reached his ears.

Two females in the house, both hiding behind closed doors. Could give a guy a complex.

“You’ll find some ladies’ clothing in the closet.” He cleared his throat. “A family lost their home in a flood, so Heather and I bought clothes for them. Seems to me, the mother’s about your size.”

“I couldn’t impose—”

“Nonsense. We can buy more next week.” He let out a frustrated breath. Hard to carry on a conversation through an inch and a half of hardwood. “The great room’s warm thanks to the fireplace. I could make a spot for you on the couch.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You’ll find a quilt in one of the drawers.”

“Thank you, Nolan.”

If the woman wanted to hole up in a chilly bedroom rather than enjoy the comfort of the great room, so be it. “Let me know if you need anything.”

The bedsprings creaked.

“We’ll eat dinner about five. In the kitchen. The oven puts out a good amount of heat. That is, if you can sit at the table comfortably.”

“Thanks. I doubt I’ll be hungry.”

“Makes me think you’re worried about my cooking.” He forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m not a gourmet, but…well…”

Suddenly, he was a comedian?

No need to embarrass himself further. “See you later.”

“Wait.” The door opened. Crutch in hand, Kate scooted forward, propped her shoulder against the wooden doorjamb and let out a ragged breath. Her hair framed her face, cheeks flushed from exertion, brow wrinkled.

“Sorry it took me so long to get to the door.” She glanced down at her injured leg. “I’m slow as a tortoise with this injury.”

“I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

“You didn’t. Dinner at five sounds fine. Although after that huge breakfast, I should probably skip a meal or two.” She looked up. “You’ve been very kind.”

“All you’ve been through, the least Heather and I could do was offer you a place to stay. Plus, we have plenty of room.”

Kate glanced down the hallway. “And a beautiful home.”

He noticed a small puddle of water by the front door, which he pointed out to Kate. “Lloyd must have had ice on his shoes. Tina would have given the doc a piece of her mind for tracking up her hardwoods.”

A spark of amusement flickered in Kate’s eyes. “Sounds like something she’d do.”

“So Tina was a neat freak even as a kid?”

“And put me to shame,” Kate said with a laugh. “My idea of clean was to shove everything under my bed and hope no one noticed.” She looked at the picture hanging on the wall.

Nolan followed her gaze. Heather had taken the photo a couple weeks after they’d arrived in Mercy while Nolan and Tina had sat at the kitchen table.

“Looks like you two were having fun,” Kate finally said.

“Heather wanted to try out her new camera. That little skunk made faces at us until we were both howling with laughter.”

One of the first lighthearted moments he and Heather had shared after Olivia’s death. He had hung the photo to remind them life went on even after the loss of a loved one.

“Where’d you happen to meet Tina?” Kate asked.

“In California. When Olivia got sick, I needed someone to help with her care. Tina was looking for a new job.” He shrugged. “Win-win, all the way around.”

“I’m sorry about your wife.” She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Was it cancer?”

“Olivia died of an infection. She’d had surgery. I thought she was doing better, but…” He sighed, a heavy weight on his chest.

Suddenly, he was tired of talking. “You look like you need some rest. Probably that medicine Lloyd gave you. He’s quick to push pills.”

“So I noticed. A nap sounds good. See you about five?”

“I’ll keep the fire roaring. Come out earlier, if you get cold.”

She closed the door as he stepped into the great room and walked to the hearth. Grabbing the poker, he stoked the fire. The flames licked the logs, sending sparks dancing like fireflies in the air.

Once again, the memory of Olivia’s declining health swirled around him. Both of them had skirted the real issue of a Hollywood lifestyle gone amok.

Alcohol. Drugs.

Olivia had been so good at explaining away her symptoms that he’d turned a blind eye to the truth, especially when she’d promised the unexpected trip to India would be her last.

A fact-finding expedition for a documentary on the plight of India’s poor who sold their organs to rich foreigners—a transplant tourist racket she’d wanted to explore.

Nolan shook his head. Organs for a price.

For Olivia Price.

Only later, he’d learned the truth. She hadn’t gone to India to gather information. She’d gone to buy an organ.

He’d never suspected liver disease.

Nolan threw another log on the fire. To Olivia, time was money and too precious to be spent waiting for a donor through normal channels in the States.

So she’d found another way. The unscrupulous physicians at the Beverly Hills Specialty Center had claimed the procedure was as safe abroad as in the U.S. Olivia’s mistake had been to trust the upscale medical facility that catered to the rich and famous. Too late, she’d learned they covered up the high rate of complications that often led to death, just as it had with Olivia.

Fisting his hands, anger swelled up in Nolan anew.

Why hadn’t she told him the real reason for her trip? Probably because by that point their marriage had been a sham.

On the exterior, they had looked like the perfect family. Except he and Olivia had been living a lie.

Nolan shook his head, sorrow overwhelming him. Justice. That was what he’d expected. Sanjeer Hira and the other physicians at the Beverly Hills Center had preyed on Olivia’s fear of not finding a donor in time, but no illegality could be found. Bottom line, the authorities’ hands were tied. Despite the dangers, private citizens were free to undergo medical procedures abroad.

Fingers pressed against the mantel, Nolan stared into the fire. When Olivia had told him about a pre-op stop she had made in Georgia, Nolan had realized he might have a way to bring down the Beverly Hills operation and the physicians involved.

A limousine had picked Olivia up at the Atlanta airport and had driven her to a VIP suite in a rural mountain clinic. There she’d received a special IV treatment exclusively for liver patients to increase the rate of recovery. Twelve hours later, she’d been whisked back to Atlanta and had boarded her flight to India.

The fact that the Beverly Hills physicians had insisted she use an alias during her Georgia layover raised a red flag in Nolan’s mind. A legit medical procedure wouldn’t require cash up front. Nor a fictitious identity for the patient.

Carrying a hefty load of grief and guilt, Nolan had moved to Mercy after Olivia’s death. If he couldn’t get to the Beverly Hills Center through the front door, he’d go in the back way. Surely, someone in the small Georgia town had made or would make a mistake, exposing a crack in the seemingly flawless Beverly Hills facade.

With dogged determination and hours of surveillance, pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the picture appeared more corrupt than he had even imagined.

Now Tina had died.

And her old friend was sleeping in the guest room.

Probably a mistake to offer Kate lodging. Although it had been the Christian thing to do. Besides, where else would she have gone? To a hotel in Summerton? The pass had closed, and the last thing Nolan wanted was an innocent woman out on her own.

Dropping into the leather chair, he pulled the Bible to his lap and let his fingers slide over the page.

Maybe he and Heather should shake the dust of Mercy from their feet and move on.

He sighed. Who was he trying to fool?

He couldn’t leave until he found a way to expose the transplant tourist racket that had led to Olivia’s death.

His eyes focused on a scripture verse.

“‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but underneath are ravenous wolves.’”

A warning?

Nolan stared into the fire.

Lord, I need your help to find the wolves. All of them.

Kate nestled down in the bed and pulled the comforter up around her neck. How could a quick trip to Mercy, Georgia, to retrieve her grandfather’s cross turn into such a disaster?

Tina was dead. The cross was still missing. And Kate was holed up in a house that lacked electricity, tended to by a kind and attractive man.

Not that she wasn’t grateful. Better here than out in the cold. Or in some lonely hotel room. Although as she recalled, Dr. Samuels had said Mercy didn’t have a hotel.

Small town. One physician.

And what about the doc? He insisted a woman she’d known forever had died of a long-term condition Kate had never heard Tina mention.

Add cremation to the mix. The idea of Tina—a live-for-the-minute type of gal—planning her funeral left a bad taste in Kate’s mouth.

Cremation…fire…

Kate’s stomach tightened. The memory of that horrible night three years ago returned unbidden. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out all that had happened.

Trusting and gullible, she had put her faith on the line…faith in a man who’d professed to love her…faith in a God who, she thought, would bless their love.

Only to have her hopes and dreams go up in flames.