The Second Son

“Not exactly.” The nurse pursed her lips. “Ideally, the doctor should be talking to you about this, but he just left the hospital and I don’t think he’ll be returning tonight. He stressed before he left that any family member visiting Kate be advised of the situation. He wanted you to know about the problem as well, Sheriff.”

“What problem?” Lacy spoke the question quietly, though she wanted to scream it at the nurse. The woman’s passion for melodrama had Lacy’s stomach churning and her patience strained to breaking.

“We think your sister’s inability to respond to verbal stimuli may not be physically induced.” She lay her hands on the table. “To put it bluntly, we think she may be faking.”

Kate, performing? That certainly sounded like the sister Lacy knew and loved. For the first time since she’d heard of Kate’s injury, she felt a little relief.

“That would be a good sign, wouldn’t it, Miss Roust? I mean, if Kate is only faking a coma, then she is recovering in that area as well.”

“Playing games with a hospital’s medical staff is never a good thing, Miss Gilbraith.”

Lacy straightened her shoulders, more than ready to be finished with the conversation. “I agree that it’s probably not the best scenario, but someone did attempt to kill my sister. If what you suspect is true, maybe Kate has her reasons for not talking.”

Lacy looked over at Branson and then stood up. “Now, if there’s nothing else you feel you must tell me, I’d like to see my sister. And I’d like to talk to her doctor as soon as possible.”

The expression on Nurse Roust’s face left no doubt that Lacy had made a new enemy. But what was one more to a list that was growing steadily as the day wore on?

Speaking in clipped tones, the nurse gave them directions to Kate’s room and sent them on alone. The room was the third from the end of the hall. Lacy stopped for a second and read her sister’s name from the card at the door along with instructions that Kate was to have a soft diet with extra liquids.

Lacy knocked softly on the closed door. She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. Taking a deep breath and trying to prepare herself for seeing Kate in this condition, she pushed through the door and walked to the side of the bed.

“Kate, it’s Lacy. I would have been here sooner. You know I would have been with you if I’d known you were injured.”

The bulge under the covers didn’t move. A motionless lump without even the top of Kate’s sun-bleached blond hair poking out.

Suspicion tugged at Lacy’s mind. She stepped closer and clasped the edge of the hospital blanket. She knew what she would find when she jerked the blanket down, but she held on to the hope that she was wrong.

She wasn’t. Kate Gilbraith was gone.

LACY STOOD at the top of the stairs in front of the hospital. A young couple hurried down the steps in front of her. An elderly gentleman, shoulders bent, stared at her as he shuffled past.

She envied them that they had somewhere to go, a purpose to their movements. She had none. Had no clue as to where to find Kate. All she knew was that her sister was in danger and that she had to find her.

“Do you have any idea where your sister might have gone?”

Lacy jumped at the sound of Branson’s voice. She’d been so lost in her misery, she’d forgotten he was still standing beside her.

“No. The only one she’s really close to besides me is her live-in boyfriend, Ricky. That was his town house that just got blown up, so there’s no telling where he is.”

“She must have friends.”

“Not really. She’s pretty much a loner, except that she’s always involved with a man. The only female I remember her being close to moved out of town about a year ago and never got back in touch with her. Kate took that as a betrayal. And most of her life has been a series of betrayals.”

“Maybe she needs to pick a different kind of friend.”

Lacy looked up at Branson. The artificial lights cast shadows on his face, highlighting his rugged features. For the first time she noticed how young he was. Probably in his early thirties at the most, but the aura of authority he wore made him seem much older.

He shifted his stance, and she realized he’d grown uncomfortable under her assessment.

He tugged his hat a little lower. “I put out an APB on her. I want her picked up as quickly as possible. Kate could be involved in a kidnapping. Even if she’s not, she’s likely still in real danger.”

She swallowed hard, but for once didn’t try to camouflage her true feelings. “I know she’s in trouble. I just don’t know how to help her.”

“I might, if you’d level with me.”

He glanced at the parking lot for a second and then stepped closer. “You think because I carry a badge that I’m the enemy, Lacy. You need to think again. I’m not the dirty coward who shot her in the shoulder. Not the one who airmailed a bomb through the window of her town house.”

Lacy took a step backward and leaned against a concrete pillar, suddenly so tired she could barely stand. Branson wasn’t totally right, but he wasn’t totally wrong either. She didn’t think he was the enemy. She knew who he was.

He was the law, and the law had never protected or looked out for her or for Kate. Besides, she knew the law from the other side, from the office of attorney Charles Castile. The law favored the people with money and clout.

No matter that she ached to trust someone, she couldn’t let it be Branson. She couldn’t be taken in by his seeming concern. Couldn’t respond to the strength of him or the rugged charms of the cowboy who’d saved her life.

Branson placed a hand on the pillar, a spot just above her left shoulder. “I think you’re making a big mistake, Lacy, but I can’t force you to talk.”

“I never thought you law types admitted that.”

“Is that what you want, Lacy? Do you want me to take you to some intimidating interrogation room and harass the truth out of you? Would that make you feel justified in choosing not to help your sister just because helping her means talking to a cop?”

“No.”

“Good, because that’s not my style. And, I don’t know why I’m worried about helping you or your sister when you’re so dead set against working with me.” His eyes softened. “Maybe I’m just not used to saving brides on their wedding day.”

He reached over and took her right hand in his. The unexpected intimacy of the touch surprised her. Even more, she was amazed that she wanted to tell him the truth, at least as much of it as she knew.

But she didn’t dare trust the law. Not in this. Ricky had warned her. The only one she could go to now was Charles and pray he would forgive her for running out on their bargain.

She shifted her gaze from Branson to her feet. “I can’t tell you anything.”

He let go of her hand. “Then I guess we may as well call it a night. Can I drop you somewhere?”

Her insides quaked sickeningly at the thought of returning to her future husband.

Branson’s gaze was fastened on the darkened parking lot. He was probably convinced she and Kate were both kooks. Frankly, she wasn’t sure at this point that he was far from wrong.

Branson took her by the elbow and led her down the steps and over to the parking space where they’d left his truck. “Don’t look now,” Branson said as he opened her door, “but we have a fan sitting a few cars to the right of us in a red Jaguar. He’s been watching us ever since we walked out of the hospital.”

Her heart plunged to her knees. “Early forties, sandy hair and wearing glasses?”

“Bull’s-eye.”

She twisted in her seat and located the last man she’d expected to see in the hospital parking lot. The reality of the fact twisted in her brain, sending stabbing pains to both temples, destroying her resolve. Did Charles know Kate was in this hospital? And if he did, how did he know it and why hadn’t he told her that Kate had been shot?

Branson brought the engine to life. “I take it the man is someone you know?”

“Apparently not well enough. That’s Charles Castile.”

“Your husband?”