“I’m here,” Allie said from behind Shane as they all headed down a dim hallway.
“Grab the bag from my office.”
James led them into a room Shane knew instinctively was a morgue. He laid Hailey on the metal table James directed him to. Her head lolled to the side, her shoes clanked against the cold steel. She moaned and tried to roll to her side.
Allie came rushing back in with the bag. “I’ve got it. Here.”
“Hold still, Hailey.” James ripped open Hailey’s dirty T-shirt, revealing her pale skin and red bra. He took the stethoscope Allie handed him and listened to her heart. “What did she last eat?”
“Ah.” Why wasn’t she talking? Shane ran a hand through his hair. “A sandwich on the plane. But that was five hours ago.”
“Nothing since? Did you eat the same thing?”
“No. And yeah. Turkey. Both of us. What’s wrong with her?”
“What else?” James asked with a clip. “Anything to drink?”
Hailey’s head moved on the table. One of her legs came up. She groaned.
“Water. A diet soda, I think. I’m not quite sure.”
“When?”
Crap, how long ago had that been? “At least three to four hours.”
“Her heart rate’s dangerously low.” James dropped the stethoscope and turned. “I need ten cc’s of atropine. Right now.”
Allie’s face paled, but she turned away and did what her father asked without question, like she’d assisted him before. James went quickly to a cabinet on the wall and rummaged around until he found something he wanted, then hustled back to Hailey’s side. She moaned, her face taking on a strange color as she tried to move. James’s hand on her arm stopped her from twisting to her side.
“What’s going on?” Shane asked. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. But I think she’s having an allergic reaction to something. You sure she didn’t have anything else to eat or drink?” James asked, readying a syringe after Allie handed him the vial.
“Yeah. Nothing. Nothing but…” He looked up sharply. “Tea. She drank a whole glass of sweet tea when we were at her uncle’s place in the Everglades.”
Both their heads came up.
“Graham’s house?” Allie asked.
Shane nodded.
James and Allie exchanged glances. Then James stuck the needle in Hailey’s arm, depressed the syringe and helped Hailey roll to her side. “Get me that pan,” he said to Shane. “Allie, I want the charcoal pills from my bag, and then brew some strong tea. She’s gonna get sick before this is over.”
The two moved like a blur. Shane did what James told him, held Hailey’s hair back when she got sick and kept her lying down when she tried to get up. But every time she emptied her stomach or James gave her another injection of atropine to bring her heart rate back to normal, Shane’s own stomach and chest reacted with a jolt.
It wasn’t until well over an hour later, when James had forced her to drink the tea and take the charcoal pills, that the sickness finally passed and things quieted down.
Allie had brought in a pillow and a couple of blankets and was sitting at Hailey’s side, talking softly. The room smelled like herbal tea and industrial cleaners.
“Let me take a look at that leg.”
Shane tore his gaze from where he’d been watching Hailey. The older man was only about five-ten, built lean but muscular, and according to Hailey, the best damn ME in the state of Florida. Originally, Shane hadn’t been too keen on getting his leg patched up in a morgue, but after he’d seen the way James worked, he was damn thankful this one had been here tonight.
“It’s fine.” Shane went back to looking at Hailey.
James let out a long sigh. “Son, you’re gonna be no help to her if your leg falls off from infection. Sit down over here and let me have a look.”
It was hard to argue with rationale like that. Making sure he still had a good view of Hailey, Shane sat in a plastic chair, slid off his borrowed flip-flops and lifted his leg so James could take a look.
“Puncture wounds aren’t deep,” James said as he examined Shane’s leg. “I don’t even think you need stitches. You got lucky. Antibiotics aren’t generally given with animal bites if stitches aren’t needed, but considering this happened, what, three hours ago?”
“Yeah. Maybe closer to four.”
James nodded. “That and the fact it hasn’t been cleaned yet, I’m going to give you a course just to be safe.”
As he went to work cleaning and dressing Shane’s leg, Shane lifted his chin but made sure to keep his voice low. “Is she going to be okay?”
James glanced over his shoulder where the girls were still quietly talking. “Yeah. Should be fine after a good night’s sleep. We got it all out of her system.”
“What was it?”
James stuck the last bandage in place and gently placed Shane’s foot on the ground. “I don’t know for sure, but my guess is some kind of poison in liquid form. This wasn’t just food poisoning, not the way her heart reacted. Did you drink any of that tea when you were at her uncle’s place?”
“No. Too sweet. I spit it out.”
James handed him the first course of antibiotics and a bottle of water, then sat in the chair to Shane’s left. “Take this one now. Dosage instructions for the rest are here. You have to take the whole course for the antibiotic to work.” He handed him a box of pills. “I’m giving you some for Hailey, too, but I don’t want her to start taking them until tomorrow when her stomach’s back to normal. That cut on her arm should have had stitches. It’s looking a little red. I don’t want it getting infected.”
Shane nodded and downed the pill.
James looked back at Hailey. “I bet the sugar in the tea masked any bitter taste.”
“You think her uncle poisoned her?”
James turned his way, and his voice lowered so much Shane could barely hear what the older man said. “Hailey asked me to look into her father’s autopsy report. Did she mention it to you?”
“Briefly.”
James nodded. “I was able to get a copy. Garrett Roarke officially died of a heart attack. I called his physician. Six weeks ago Garrett went in complaining of chest pains. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. A few weeks later he’s dead. No one thought much of it because of the earlier diagnosis and the family history. But the kicker? When I spoke with his physician, he told me he’d prescribed an ACE inhibitor, which expands blood vessels and decreases resistance.”
“Why is that bad?” Shane asked.
“It’s not,” James clarified. “Actually, it’s pretty routine. Only in Garrett’s case, his autopsy showed elevated levels of cardiac glycosides. Or the drug digoxin. Better known as digitalis.”
Shane’s brow lowered. “I’ve heard of that before. Isn’t that a poison?”
“Yes. But it’s also commonly used in heart-failure patients to increase the pumping action of the heart. Only in Garrett’s case it was never prescribed.”
Shane studied James’s weathered face. “So you’re telling me he was taking a heart medication that wasn’t prescribed to him. Why would he do that?”
“I’m not so sure he knew he was taking it,” James said softly. “In fact, I’m not entirely sure his original diagnosis was completely accurate.” At Shane’s wrinkled brow, James said, “It’s not as hard as one would think to mimic a heart attack, Detective. You slip a relatively healthy man a little digoxin, or oleander or lily of the valley and wait for it to take effect. He’s going to feel like something’s wrong. He goes to his doctor, has a full workup. They won’t be testing for any drugs, but looking at his heart. They give him a diagnosis, put him on medications. Now he’s got a history. Someone slips him a little more digoxin over the next few weeks, not enough to cause a problem but to keep his symptoms going. Then bam, a high enough dose to trigger a heart attack. Local ME doesn’t suspect anything because, hey, guy’s already got a history, and after all, it r
uns in his family. Toxicology report comes back showing elevated levels of digoxin, no big deal. It’s a heart-failure drug, after all. Only in this case, no one asked what he’d actually been prescribed.”
Shane looked over at Hailey as a weird sort of understanding dawned. He thought back to being in Graham’s house and how worried she was that the news of his son’s death would be bad on the older man’s heart.
She’d said she wasn’t so sure her father’s death was natural after all. If what James had just told him was true, her father really had been murdered. And every person in her family who had any ties to Roarke Resorts—Graham included—was a suspect.
“Can you prove it?”
James sighed. “Wish I could. But according to Hailey, Garrett’s already been cremated.”
Damn.
“Do you think she was given digoxin?”
James shook his head. “I’m not sure. Oleander, lily of the valley, digitalis, they all work the same, though. Any one of them could have been the culprit here. But when you said you’d been out to see Graham Roarke…that’s when I had a feeling something wasn’t right. You know he’s a hermit, that he lives out in the boondocks. Man’s also a horticulturist by hobby. He’d know which plants are poisonous and which aren’t.”
Yeah, of course he would. The question was, why Hailey? And why now? And why the heck would her uncle have a batch of poison ready and waiting in his fridge if he hadn’t known Hailey was coming to see him?
“I’m not sure about your connection to Hailey,” James said as he shifted around and reached for something from his pocket, “but my gut’s telling me you’re someone Hailey can trust, and right now she needs that.” He pulled out a key, handed it to Shane. “I have a condo here in Marathon. It’s not being used and I’d like you two to have it for the night. Hailey needs a chance to recharge her batteries. The place isn’t fancy, but it’s clean and no one will bother you.”
“We’ll be—”
“No arguing.” James held up his hand. “I have to head back to Key West, and as much as I love Hailey, I don’t want Allie wrapped up in this. That might be selfish—”
“It’s not,” Shane said, taking the key. Hailey trusted this man, and every instinct inside Shane said he’d be smart to trust him, too. At least for tonight.
James nodded slowly. “You know, when Hailey called and told me who she was bringing down here, I was skeptical. Especially considering everything that’s been all over the news about her up there in Chicago. But you’re all right, Maxwell.”
It was odd for Shane to be flattered, but he was. James Hargrove was a man Shane didn’t mind being complimented by.
James looked over to where Allie was still quietly talking to Hailey. “My daughter the cop won’t be so thrilled with that decision. Those two are thick as thieves.”
“She’ll get over it,” he said, watching Hailey and feeling an odd sort of tenderness in his chest. “I’m not going to let anything happen to that thief.”
A slow smile spread across James’s face as he pushed to stand. “Good to hear. She needs someone watching out for her, whether she thinks so or not.”
“One question,” Shane asked when James reached for his bag from the floor.
“Yes?”
“How does a coroner manage to have so many medical supplies on hand?”
“He volunteers,” Allie said from across the room.
At Shane’s raised brow, James lifted his bag slightly. “It’s something I’ve done for a number of years. I help out at a low-income clinic, make house calls for some of the elderly down here who can’t make it to their regular appointments. I don’t mind working on the dead, just so long as I get to practice on the living now and then.” He winked at Shane. “You’re about Matt’s height and size, one of the guys on staff here. He usually leaves some extra clothes in his locker. Let me go see what I can find.”
Practice on the living.
Shane watched James walk away, then looked over at Hailey, her blonde hair spilling over the pillow Allie had brought for her, her eyes sliding closed as she listened to her friend talk. In this case, James hadn’t just practiced. He’d saved a life.
A life Shane was even more resolute about saving himself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Eleanor turned off the engine of her Mercedes and glowered toward the house. Why Graham insisted on living like a backwater redneck when he had millions in the bank, she’d never understand.
She pushed the door open, then frowned as she slid her Christian Lacroix pumps onto the gravel drive thick with weeds. Morning dew coated the wisps of grass and flowers she didn’t have any clue how to name and couldn’t care less about. Graham, of course, would know each and every bloody thorn on the property.
She stumbled twice on the uneven rocks and was nearly ready to turn around and head back to civilization when she heard a voice from the shadows of the front porch that stopped her cold.
“Been a while since you’ve been all the way out here.”
Her pulse jumped, even though she’d prepared herself. It had been a long time. An even longer time since she’d been alone with her brother-in-law.
She lifted her chin. “Hello, Graham.”
He didn’t rise from the red metal chair, only eyed her over his mug of coffee. Or whiskey. Or whatever it was he drank at nine A.M. these days. “Eleanor.”
There’d been a time he’d called her Ellie. But that had been before. When she’d been young. And not nearly as smart as she was now.
Ignoring the memories, she headed up the three wooden steps to stand before him. “We need to talk.”
“Figured you’d come out here. Also figured there’s nothin’ talking can do to solve any of this.” He looked down into his mug. “Won’t bring back my boy. Definitely won’t bring back your husband.”
She sensed his deep-seated regret, and was almost suckered in before she remembered whom she was talking to. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Are you?” he asked with narrowed eyes.
“Yes. I came to tell you Madeline’s scheduled the funeral for Friday.”
“Friday. Well, that’s not a surprise, now is it? But that’s not the real reason you’re here.”
Her stomach lurched, but she worked to look calm. He may appear to be a country bumpkin, but Graham was sharp as a spear. And just as dangerous. She’d learned that long ago.
She chose her words carefully. “We have a deal, and I expect you to live up to it, no matter what’s happened.”
He set his cup on the aged wicker table to his left with a loud clank and pushed his lanky frame from the chair. Even at sixty-four, worn and wrinkled and weathered from his years of fun in the sun, he still intimidated her as much as he had when he’d been wild and reckless and in his prime in his thirties. Maybe more, because he was the only person left who knew the secret that could ruin her. “My son is dead, Eleanor.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Who did?” When she didn’t answer, his slate gray eyes grew cold. “You and I both know Hailey didn’t kill Bryan. That girl could no more murder someone than…”
“You?”
His eyes flashed, and that strong, square jaw flexed, just as it had back then. “Yeah. Me.” He tipped his head to the side. “But then, you know all about that, don’t you?”
Silence fell like heavy smoke between them.
Though her heart was racing and she sensed her blood pressure inching up, she broke the stare-down by walking across the porch and leaning one hip against the railing as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “If Hailey had stayed in Chicago, she wouldn’t be involved now. The police there would have figured out she didn’t have anything to do with Bryan’s death.”
“You say that like you know it for a fact.”
She pursed her lips. She’d underestimated Hailey one too many times, and she wasn’t about to do so again. She leveled Graham with a look. “If she comes here looking for your bronze—”
r /> “She already did,” he said smugly. “I gave it to her yesterday.”
Her eyes widened, and she eased away from the railing. “You…what did you tell her?”
“Nothing she didn’t already know. But I was tempted. Oh, was I tempted, Eleanor. Especially after she informed me of Bryan’s death before you or my dear daughter-in-law could find the time to bother.”
Betrayal welled in her chest, but she tamped it down and remembered the only way to keep everything in line was to remain calm. This would not blow up in her face. “You’re difficult to get hold of out here.”
“Not that difficult. You’re here now, aren’t you?”
She bit the inside of her lip. Arguing with him had never been productive. “You realize all you did was send her on a wild-goose chase, don’t you? This little treasure hunt of Garrett’s won’t pan out. The company’s lawyers are already looking into a glitch in the will should those stupid statues even be found. It’s only a matter of time before it’s overturned.”
“But you know they won’t all be found, don’t you?” he asked smugly. “Tell me, Eleanor, did you send those morons to run her off the road? Jesus, you could have killed her.”
Run her off the road? What was he…?
When he only stared at her, she drew in a breath. In the end she didn’t really care. “I don’t know what you’re rambling about. You’re getting as senile as your brother. But no, all the sculptures won’t be found. Hailey will not get this company. And you’d be wise to talk her into turning herself in if you see her again. She’s only making more trouble by running.”
“Such the devoted mother. Tell me, Eleanor, who’s she making more trouble for, her or you?”
She ignored the taunt. “I want your word you won’t say anything.”
“I gave you my word once before.”
“Before was a long time ago.”
He pursed his lips in disgust. “My word’s the same now as it was then. That hasn’t changed. You know that more than anyone.”
That tightness returned to her chest. There’d been a time when she’d actually thought she’d loved him. What a fool she’d been. “I’m not the only one who stands to lose here, Graham. Remember that.”