Buried Secrets: A dark Romantic Suspense (The Buried Series Book 2) Page 10

  “We’re already in.” The words sunk in. He was too late. Again. “Come with us, please.”

  “What about Jenna?” He couldn’t fail her too.

  “She’s being taken care of.”

  Jenna probably didn’t need him hovering. As the medics escorted him toward the awaiting ambulance, he looked at his burning house. He’d lost everything. His heart broke, and then anger bubbled up inside. Someone had tried to kill him, and he sure as hell was going to find out who was responsible. And if anything happened to Mrs. Delansky or Jenna, he’d turn the world upside down to make him pay.

  11

  The doctors made Sam spend the night in the hospital for observation, because they suspected he might have lung damage since he’d inhaled so much of the cloying smoke. This morning, the tests showed no immediate issues. How he’d escaped the silent killer, he didn’t know, but he was thankful. The hospital released him, but he was advised to return in a few days for a follow-up visit.

  He sustained two small burns on the back of his calves and a few minor cuts on his elbows and hands, which involved cleaning and suturing, but in the big scheme of things, he’d been damned lucky to get out relatively unscathed.

  Jenna was a different story. Unfortunately, no one would tell him anything about her condition, other than she was being watched closely. The bad news was that Mrs. Delansky didn’t exist in their system. Either she was dead or her daughter had driven down from Jacksonville to visit before the fire started. He’d never forgive himself if she died.

  Sam had searched the phone book for Mr. Richman’s number so he could inform Jenna’s father what had happened, but he found a whole column of Richmans. He’d borrowed another visitor’s cell phone and called four names before she needed her phone back. If Botanica hadn’t been closed, he would have contacted them to see if they had an emergency number for her.

  Out of options, there was nothing more he could do than wait until the hospital allowed him see her. Sam flipped through some home magazine in the waiting area but failed to notice any of the pictures, and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to read any of the articles. Hell, he couldn’t concentrate. Worry had stopped the blood from flowing to his brain.

  With no cash, he couldn’t even buy a stupid snack from the machine. He dropped his head into his hands and wracked his brain trying to figure out who’d wanted to harm him. No doubt arson was involved. Houses didn’t spontaneously go up in flames without an accelerant.

  He could almost hear Carla’s ranting about how the curse must have caused the fire, and that he needed to halt the investigation if he wanted to stay live. As a man of science, he didn’t believe in magic or voodoo nonsense, but someone was determined to stop him from investigating the contents of the cauldron. Only who? Deidra Willows? She wasn’t his first choice. Jenna’s boss acted too uptight to be a killer, but crazies didn’t always follow a specific pattern of behavior.

  Sam checked the wall clock for the tenth time. He refused to leave the hospital until he’d at least had a glimpse of Jenna. He didn’t want to believe that his investigation might have caused harm to an innocent woman. It was his duty to make sure she was okay. Besides, he liked her. A lot.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “You can see Ms. Richman now. She’s in room 307.”

  Thank God. They must have moved her out of ICU. When he stepped off the elevator, full-blown antiseptic blasted him. He neared Jenna’s room, and the hum of television sets from the other rooms saddened him. There were so many ill people. Most of them were alone.

  He tapped Jenna’s door, and when he stepped in, his heart wrenched. One tube stuck out of her right arm that ran to a bag containing a clear liquid that hung on a stand, and another went to a collection pack on the side of her bed. A positive was that she wasn’t intubated. His anxiety lessened at bit.

  Jenna’s cheek, chin and throat were covered in gauze and her hair was matted in blood. Damn it. He should have been the one in the bed, not Jenna. If only he’d let her leave last night when she’d wanted, she wouldn’t be here now, suffering.

  He stepped close to the bed. “Jenna?”

  She opened her eyes and half smiled, her upper lip trembling from the effort. “Hey. You’re okay.”

  “Yeah. You?” Dumb question, but his heart had collided with his speech center. He pulled up a chair and eased into it, careful not to knock the back of his legs as he sat.

  “Good. Kind of.” She reached out her hand, and he wrapped his fingers around her palm. Damn gauze bandages prevented the skin-to-skin contact he wanted. “I want to thank you for saving my life.” Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, and his mind raced to a forbidden place.

  “I’m no hero.” He’d been one once and had been shot for the effort. “I was saving both of our asses when I raced out of the house.” Sam nodded to her face. “Does it hurt bad?”

  “Not so much. They gave me something for the pain.”

  Her speech didn’t possess its usual crispness, and she seemed to be having a hard time keeping her lids open.

  Footsteps pounded down the hall and an older man barreled into her room. “Jenna.” He looked at Sam and stopped. With care, Sam returned Jenna’s hand to her side.

  “Hi.” Her throat sounded raw, but her eyes sparkled.

  “My God. When we heard what happened, I raced right over. Lucas said he’d stop by later.”

  Was this her father? And who the hell was Lucas? “Sam, this is Larry Bernard. He’s a friend of the family.”

  Something passed between them that Sam couldn’t decipher.

  Sam stood to give the visitor the seat. “How did you hear about the fire?”

  Larry smiled. “I got people.”

  Sam was unsure if he should leave, but she seemed comfortable with this Larry guy. “Jenna, call me later at the lab, okay? My cell burned up in the fire.” She nodded.

  He wondered if Jenna’s car had even survived the blaze. In his haste to get the hell out of the burning house, he hadn’t even thought to grab his wallet. His pants were stained red at the knees, and his shirt was streaked with blood. Man, he was a mess.

  A nurse pushing a man in a wheelchair slipped by him, and an old woman moaned in the room near the nurses’ station. Sam halted.

  Chance. He could stay with his friend until he found a place. Too bad he didn’t remember Chance’s number. No cash meant he couldn’t even hail a cab even if he knew his friend’s location. His only choice was to call his boss. That number he knew by heart.

  The nurses’ station was kind enough to let him use their phone. Phil answered right away. His boss kept his phone attached to his wheelchair and rose early to work out. Once Sam explained his situation, Phil said he’d send Gina over with a clean set of clothes and a small advance. He had to hand it to Phil. The guy cared about his employees.

  Sam waited outside the hospital entrance for Gina to arrive. The cool air felt good on his burns but did nothing to calm the ache in his gut. Poor Jenna. She didn’t deserve this.

  In less than half an hour, his savior strutted toward him with a small suitcase. “Well, you look like shit,” Gina said with slight laugh.

  “Thanks. It’s a new style I’ve adopted.” He held up his bloodied shirtsleeve. “Jenna says I’m too uptight and need to dress down.”

  “She’s got that right.” Gina plopped the suitcase by Sam’s side and planted herself on the steps next to him. “So what are you going to do now?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I have insurance on my duplex, but it could take months before I’m reimbursed.”

  “That’s tough. By the way, Phil did a little digging. He just called me on my cell. I’m afraid your neighbor didn’t make it.”

  His gut nearly exploded as anger roiled inside him at the unfairness of it all. “Goddammit. She was like a grandmother to me. Mrs. Delansky was the sweetest woman on earth.”

  Gina squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. The arson investigato
r is a personal friend of Phil’s. He’ll make sure they catch the guy.”

  “We hope. Will someone notify her daughter, or should I?”

  “I’ll ask Phil and let you know.”

  A strong breeze whipped through the palm trees and the sound of an approaching ambulance broke his melancholy. “Damn it. I want to find the identification of the people in my cauldron so bad I can taste it. I believe the bones hold the key to the arson and to my windshield smashing.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Gina stood. “You need a ride somewhere?”

  Racing footsteps sounded behind him. “Mr. Bonita?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad I caught you. I’m Jenna’s friend, Charlotte Evert. She just called me and told me what happened. I’m so sorry about your house.”

  He was surprised she identified him, though his bloody clothes probably gave him away. “Thanks.”

  “The floor nurse told me Jenna would probably be released later today once the doctor sees her, but that she needs supervision. I’d take her, but I have got two little ones at home, along with three dogs. I have a spare key to Jenna’s place. She wanted you to have it since you don’t have a place to stay.”

  Jenna’s generosity took him aback. “I couldn’t.”

  “You have to. Someone needs to take care of her while she heals. She’s too stubborn to do what the doctors tell her.”

  He hadn’t been thinking. Jenna needed help. “Sure.”

  She smoothed her hands down her jeans. “I didn’t see her heap in front of her house when I drove by. Was it at your house?”

  “Yes, but I have no idea if it survived the fire.”

  “I’ll ask a couple of my friends to check and drop it off at her house if it’s drivable.” She pulled out her Blackberry and took down his address. “Just take good care of her.” Her cell buzzed. “I gotta go.” She handed him the key and written directions to Jenna’s place. And then she was gone.

  Gina picked up the suitcase. “Come on. I’ll drive you to your new abode.”

  Sam kept telling himself he owed Jenna for possibly scarring her for life but cleaning toilets was about as far as he’d go for any woman. To call her place a pigsty was an understatement. And the kitchen? Yikes. Dishes sat in the sink, but at least the counters were clean, and he hadn’t found any roaches. His hours of waiting had been spent scrubbing and vacuuming. His back ached and his cuts started to bleed again from the hard work, but he hated disorder too much to sit around and do nothing.

  Sam found her refrigerator basically bare, which implied she ate out a lot. Didn’t she know how much money she could save by cooking herself? If he’d had a car, he would have taken a trip to the store and stocked up on some staples—like eggs, milk, and bread. All he’d been able to scrounge was enough supplies for tuna noodle casserole using powdered milk no less.

  Around two, two well-built guys returned Jenna’s soot-covered car, and a shot of jealousy stabbed him until he recalled these were Charlotte’s two friends.

  “How did you get the key?” Had they come from the hospital?

  The beefier of the two curled his lip. “Jenna always keeps a spare in a magnetic box on her back bumper.”

  “Oh.” Anyone could steal her car. He’d have to talk with her about safety, though the chance of some thug stealing a heap covered in girly stickers was slim. “Thanks for delivering it.” A thorough wash would return her car to looking like new.

  They handed him the key and took off in the shorter man’s truck.

  Once back inside, he checked the answering machine. No call from the hospital yet. Had the doctors discovered an infection? The lack of a call didn’t bode well for her. Sam decided he’d first clean the second bedroom, which he speculated was an office/spare bedroom since it came with a pullout sofa, and then wash the car. After that he’d take a trip to the market for some much needed food.

  He placed Phil’s donation of two pair of pants, two shirts, and new underwear in a file cabinet drawer in the extra bedroom since the closet was too crammed with stuff to fit even one more hanger. Phil hadn’t been able to replace Sam’s bloody, fire damaged shoes, but beggars couldn’t be choosy.

  By the time he’d sanitized the spare bedroom room and their shared bathroom, he took a shower to remove the smell of smoke from his skin. He’d finished toweling off when Jenna called. Thank God she sounded alert.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Damn. He hadn’t washed her car, though in all likelihood, she wouldn’t notice. She’d have more important issues on her mind.

  Checking Jenna out took about an hour. The red tape frustrated not only him but Jenna as well. She paced the entire time the nurse asked her questions. Jenna promised to return the next day and deliver her insurance card that she kept in her desk at home. Sam handed her a jacket he’d found in her closet. “You don’t want to get chilled.”

  “Thanks. Right now, all I care about is a shower, and then going over to your place to see if maybe the person who set the fire left a clue.”

  She had to be kidding. “My boss is in contact with the arson investigator. He’ll find out who did this. Let the cops handle this.”

  “I am a…” Her face turned a pretty shade of pink—at least the part exposed to the air.

  “You’re a what?”

  “Um. I’m...I’m anything but happy. I’m not going to wait around while the stupid cops put us last on their list of people to help.”

  He had to smile at her poor view of our men in blue. Finally they had something in common. If the cops hadn’t blown off his wife’s 9-1-1 call, she might still be alive. “I’m sure Phil will give them a nudge.”

  Her grumpy mood stemmed no doubt from her pain and probably from a lack of sleep. The hospital had cleaned her cuts, but her hair contained soot and blood. Her stomach sent out a loud grumble. He bet she hadn’t eaten since last night, something he’d rectify soon.

  When they approached her car, she shrieked with glee. “Nellie survived!”

  Nellie? She named her car? “It needs a good washing.”

  “She always needs a wash. I was worried the fire might have done her in.”

  Maybe he should thank the rock thrower for doing him a favor. His vehicle had stayed in cozy comfort in the repair shop this past week and not in his garage—make that his burned down garage—while the shop replaced the windshield.

  The five miles to Jenna’s place seemed to take forever since she remained quiet the whole time. Sam surmised she was trying to keep it together until she got home.

  “Do you need for me to pick up a prescription?”

  She shook her head. “The hospital gave me something.”

  He didn’t dare suggest she might need more in the days to come. When and if she wanted a refill, he’d get it for her. When he pulled into her drive, Jenna refused any help getting out. Stubborn woman. She did allow him to open the front door, however.

  “Wow. You cleaned! The place has never looked better. Thank you.”

  Her smile made him forget the toilets and the tossed clothes. “If you’re okay by yourself, I’d like to go to the lab and work on the cauldron people. Whoever placed them in the pot might have started the fire.” He opened the refrigerator and pointed to the individually covered glass containers. “I made a casserole for you.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You did? That’s so sweet.” Jenna came over to him, lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me. Can you wait while I shower? I want to go to the lab with you.”

  Heat raced up his face at her sincerity. “You, young lady, need to rest.”

  “Come on. It was my life that was threatened too, you know. How can you be so sure you were the target? My car was sitting outside your house. The flower stickers on the bumper make it kind of stand out, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No, yes buts. I could be in danger if I stay all by my lonesome.” She slid next t
o him and placed her hands on his chest. She smelled of smoke and antiseptic, but he didn’t mind. In fact, his heart jumped a few beats.

  What could a store clerk have done to cause someone to come after her? “Did you put a curse on someone and they want revenge?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. I don’t do that kind of thing.” She dragged a finger from his chest to his waist and glanced up at him with her pretty brown eyes. “I’m scared. I need you to protect me.”

  He didn’t buy her innocent act one bit, but if she had been the target, and they came after her again, he couldn’t live with himself. “Fine. But all you’ll be doing is sitting and watching.”

  “Okay.” She flashed him her pearly whites. “I’ll be out in a flash.”

  Worry was replaced with joy. She was so easy to please.

  As she rushed down the hallway, his stupid body reacted. He was half tempted to sneak into the quart-sized bathroom and watch her shower, only he wouldn’t. That would create expectations on her part—expectations he didn’t need.

  Jenna wrapped her arms around herself wishing she’d remembered Sam’s workplace was so freaking cold. “How can you stand working in this meat locker hour after hour?”

  “You get used to it. Tomorrow, bring a sweater.”

  Jenna hopped up on the black counter, hoping there wasn’t any leftover blood or anything under her. Knowing Sam, he disinfected the place hourly. While she wanted to get close to him for many reasons, she wasn’t sure suffering in the cold was a good enough reason to stay here. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of an excuse to leave. It wasn’t as if she could announce that she needed to stop by the precinct to see where they were with the fire investigation. Nor did she need to be reminded the doctor made her promise to stay away from work and stress for two weeks. Like that was going to happen. “I’m famished.”

  “There’s some snack food in the break room. It has donuts or other bad stuff.”

  Not the response she wanted. “Come with me. I can’t go into the room and steal a donut. Only three people out of a gazillion here even know me.”