Fade To Gray (Triad Series Book 1) Page 7

  "I’m in the hospital?" She hadn’t meant it as a question, but it came out that way.

  "Yes. Of a sort." He nodded, giving her hand a squeeze and then releasing her to lean back. She immediately missed the contact. "I know you hate the idea of making a public spectacle. But this is a private clinic. It’s necessary to our business. Completely discreet. And, under the circumstances, I wanted to have you checked out. Do you remember any of what happened?"

  "A little." She scrunched up her nose, and immediately regretted the motion, pain slicing through her head. "I was home, right?" Please God, let that much at least be true.

  "Yes. In the bathtub. There was a gas leak."

  Her lips quirked at the corners as she fought a smile. "And you just happened to be driving by?"

  "There’ve been some developments. I wanted to tell you what we found, but that can wait. First I want the doctor to see you again. You’ve been out for almost ten hours."

  "A gas leak?" She frowned, still struggling to remember. "I don’t understand. The only gas in my brownstone is the range. And I’ve never had problems with it before."

  His expression shuttered, as if he were trying to hide his concern. "Were you making yourself a cup of tea?"

  "No." She shook her head. "I decided on wine. It was more relaxing. And then I put Bailey…oh, my God. Bailey. Where’s Bailey? Is he all right?"

  "Don’t worry. He’s fine." Gideon reached for a plastic pitcher of water and filled a glass. "He actually helped with the rescue. The downstairs door was locked. I’m afraid we had to break it."

  "We?" she asked, taking the cup and sipping the water.

  "Yes. The two of us together. Bailey’s no lightweight. Anyway, Declan’s there now. And the two of them seem to have bonded."

  "Well, I suppose it fits; they’re both a little crazy." She’d actually liked Declan back in the day when she and Gideon had been joined at the hip. He’d opened his arms to her, metaphorically speaking. Which was more than she could say for Ryder. He’d doubted her even then.

  "He’ll be disappointed to know that you’ve got his number." Gideon smiled. "Anyway, I hope you don’t mind. I wanted him to check things out. Look for signs of tampering."

  "With the gas line?" She frowned, her fuzzy memories beginning to take shape.

  "As well as other things."

  "I didn’t turn on the stove. I swear it. I decided to have some wine and take a bath." She stopped, licking lips that had suddenly gone dry. After another sip of water she forced her thoughts into some semblance of order and continued. "I locked Bailey downstairs. He isn’t content to wait outside of the bathroom door."

  "I can understand that position."

  She shot a startled look at Gideon, but his expression was still carefully masked.

  "So, you took a bath," he repeated, urging her on.

  "And lit candles. But they could have…oh dear God, did they…"

  "No, thankfully I got there in time. The gas wasn’t as concentrated upstairs. At least not yet."

  "But I was so sleepy. It was warm. And the water felt so good. And the wine…and then I remember I…I couldn’t keep my eyes open. And then you were there…pulling me out of the water…running through the house."

  "You damn near died in there. I lost five years of my life when I saw you half submerged in the tub."

  "I only had a glass and a half of wine. I swear."

  "There wasn’t any wine in the bathroom, Em."

  "So, what? You’re saying I’m making it up? That I did leave the gas on?"

  "No." He reached for her hand again. "I’m saying that someone was in there. That someone wanted it to look as if the gas killed you. Hell, it almost did kill you."

  "But the wine was there. And a hock wine glass."

  He frowned. "Hock wine?"

  Emily bit back a smile. Some things never changed. Gideon was a man’s man. More interested in beer and football than china and crystal.

  "It’s a curved glass on a long stem." She cupped one of her hands to show him. "Mine are Waterford. I have four in different colors. I was using the blue one." She paused to suck in a breath and order her thoughts. "It’s my favorite. And the wine was a cabernet. Duckhorn." She looked down at his hand, his fingers stroking the skin on her wrist. She’d been thinking of him. Remembering his touch, his lips, his hands. "I was sipping it and enjoying the warmth of the water." A sudden awful thought occurred to her. "You don’t think I was trying to kill myself?"

  "I never said that. I’m just saying that someone wanted us to believe that was true."

  "But why?"

  "The senator? Maybe his killer is still trying to frame you. Or maybe he’s trying to tie up loose ends."

  "Kill me to keep me quiet, you mean? But that doesn’t make sense; we haven’t told anyone about any of it." She shifted restlessly, pulling free of his hand in her agitation.

  "Doesn’t mean you won’t. And if someone wanted to frame you, what better way to make you look guilty than for you to commit suicide?"

  Em blew out a frightened breath. "Was…was there a note?"

  "The guys are looking."

  "I’m not crazy." She said the words more for herself than for Gideon. "I didn’t try to kill myself and I…I couldn’t have killed Tom." Her fingers tightened on the edge of the hospital blanket. "I didn’t like him. But I wouldn’t have killed him. No matter what. I wouldn’t have." She prayed that it was true, lifting her gaze to Gideon’s, as if he alone could grant some kind of absolution.

  "I know, Em. I know." Gideon spoke soothingly, stroking her hand, the contact sending tendrils of warmth spiraling through her.

  "Do you?" She knew she sounded pathetic, desperate, but she couldn’t help herself. She needed for him to believe in her. Even when she wasn’t sure she believed in herself.

  "I do." He squeezed her hand, his lips tilting in a crooked smile. "And it’s not just me. It’s Declan and Ryder. The whole team. That’s part of what I wanted to tell you. If we’re forced to reveal what happened, I think we can prove you didn’t do it. Or at least cast reasonable doubt."

  Hope crested in her heart, and she listened as he explained about the blood spatter and the GHB the pathologist had found in her system. It was clear he believed the evidence supported her innocence. And a huge burden, one she hadn’t even realized she was carrying, lifted from her shoulders. Even though she was still in more trouble than she could conceptualize, she took comfort from the fact that despite everything that had happened, she hadn’t killed Tom Irwin. She wasn’t a murderer.

  "Thank God," she breathed, her heart still stuttering. "I was so afraid. Even though I didn’t want it to be true, I was so afraid that I’d…that…that somehow this was all my fault. As awful as it all is, I was imagining worse."

  "You didn’t kill him, Em. No matter what else happened, you can know that much with certainty."

  She nodded, other ugly thoughts pushing through her mind. "Did he…did he…" She trailed off, unable to put the thought into words. Instead she just stared up at him, willing herself to be strong.

  "No, baby." His eyes flashed with something dark, and his fingers tightened around hers. "Irwin didn’t rape you. The bastard didn’t hurt you like that. There was no evidence of sex at all."

  The breath whooshed out of her, relief mixing with so many other emotions she almost felt giddy. "Thank you. Oh God. Thank you. I don’t know which was worse, thinking that I might have killed him or that he might have…"

  "But he didn’t." Gideon’s voice cracked with emotion. "He didn’t. And there’s nothing to thank me for. So far we’ve got some pretty solid evidence, but it isn’t necessarily enough to clear your name, especially since we covered it up. And it definitely isn’t enough to keep it out of the press. If they get word of it, they’ll make your life a living hell."

  Emily shuddered. "But thanks to you, they don’t know. I mean, nobody knows."

  "Yet."

  She frowned, trying to interpret the meaning be
hind that single word. "You think whoever tried to kill me will still try to implicate me in what happened?"

  "I think they’ll try." Gideon pushed from the chair and crossed to the window, leaning back against the sill. "There’s more I need to tell you."

  "The hits just keep on coming." She closed her eyes, not certain she was ready for whatever came next.

  "Ryder managed to restore a part of the security video that had been erased. It showed Irwin on the elevator." He paused, his expression shuttered. "He had you in his arms."

  "But I wouldn’t…I didn’t." She tried to sit up, but her head spun and she dropped back against the pillows as he crossed to her side, anxiety coloring his expression.

  "It’s clear from the video that you weren’t in any shape to agree to anything."

  "So it’s visual proof that I was drugged."

  "Yes. Particularly in combination with the GHB we found in your system. But whoever is behind this is playing for keeps, Em. They’ve just proved how far they’ll go. First trying to frame you for the murder and now, thanks to my meddling, trying to make it look as if you committed suicide."

  "This is not your fault. If you and your team hadn’t stepped in, God knows what would have happened."

  "I know. But in stepping in, we pissed someone off royally and they aren’t going to go down without a fight."

  "So I’m fucked either way." The word slipped out without so much as a by your leave, and Gideon’s lips twitched in amusement.

  "I see you’ve loosened up with the language over the past few years." It had been a long-standing thing between them, his bad language and her abhorrence for it.

  She felt the hot stain of a blush. "I’d say under the circumstances the word is warranted."

  He held up a hand, the twitch breaking into a full-fledged grin. "I’m not saying another thing."

  She allowed a small smile of her own, then sighed, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. "No matter how I try to phrase it, the news isn’t good. Everything just keeps moving from bad to worse, and we have no idea at all who could be behind this."

  "There was an image in the video. An arm. A man’s arm. It’s not much to go on, I’ll admit, but it’s better than nothing. It establishes that there was a third person there."

  "An arm," she sputtered. "Great… now all we have to do is figure out who in the world it belongs to. Before he tries to kill me again."

  "We’ll figure it out, Emily. I promise you. My guys are on it. We’ll get to the bottom of what happened."

  "Yeah, but this is so much more than what you signed on for." She clenched a fist, fighting the rising panic. "I wouldn’t blame you at all if you wanted to walk away."

  "I promised I’d help you." His voice was low and gruff, the sound almost seeming to vibrate between them. "And I keep my promises."

  She turned her head away, tears burning the back of her eyes. He’d promised to love her forever, too. And look how that had turned out. But this wasn’t the time for digging up the past.

  "Em." His voice was soft, compelling. "Look at me."

  She sighed and turned to face him again, hating herself for letting his words matter so much.

  "We’ll figure this out. Okay? Whatever is happening, you’re not in it alone."

  She nodded, then sucked in a breath. "It’s just that—"

  A quiet knock interrupted the thought as the door swung open and a man in scrubs walked into the room. "I see my patient is awake. Glad to have you back with us, Ms. Masterson."

  "It’s Emily, please," she said, noticing that Gideon had dropped back into the chair by her bed.

  "And I’m William Tate. We’ve actually met before. Once a long time ago—at Nino’s on 72nd."

  She frowned for a moment, then smiled. "I was with Gideon. We were already seated and then you and your girlfriend came in. You were there to celebrate finishing your fellowship. In emergency medicine. And here you are…" She trailed off, feeling suddenly unsure of herself. This was Gideon’s friend.

  But Dr. Tate smiled. "Yeah, exactly. You guys bought us a bottle of champagne."

  "And then drank our fair share, if I remember correctly." Gideon reached for her hand again. "So what did you find?"

  The doctor’s eyes sobered. "It was just as you thought. GHB. Not as much as your pathologist found in her system the first time. But it was most definitely there."

  "It’s been less than forty-eight hours," Gideon said. "Could what you found be the remnants of the original dose?"

  "No," Dr. Tate said. "The drug is flushed from the system rather quickly. Which is why it works so well as a date rape drug."

  "Date notwithstanding." Emily shivered, and Gideon’s hand tightened around hers. "So what is it exactly, GHB? A pill?"

  "It can be. But these days it’s often produced as an odorless, colorless liquid."

  "Which means that it’s easy enough to slip into a drink," Gideon added.

  "At the bar maybe." She frowned. "But at my house? How could someone possibly pull that off? I was in my bathroom."

  "Anything is possible, Em. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen. What people are capable of doing to each other." He sounded so bleak she reached out to comfort him, but let her arm drop, realizing she no longer had the right.

  With a sigh, she turned her attention to the doctor instead. "So the level of GHB you found in my blood indicates that the drug was definitely administered sometime last night?" Her heart rate ratcheted up, anxiety rising as she pictured the killer in her house.

  "Yes," Dr. Tate confirmed.

  "Which means I’ve been drugged twice." Emily lifted her hand to run it through her hair, then stopped when the tubing from her IV pulled tight. "This is like a nightmare I just can’t wake up from."

  "Did you find anything else?" Gideon asked, his voice soothing her in a way that it probably shouldn’t.

  "I did. But I’m not sure if it’s a positive or a negative." He shot a look first at Gideon and then at Emily.

  "It’s okay," Emily said, her voice not much more than a whisper. "There’s nothing I’m trying to keep secret here. At least not from Gideon." It seemed insane to think that she was telling the truth. Considering their past, Gideon was the last man she should be putting her trust in. But apparently, as far as her heart was concerned, none of that had any bearing at all.

  "Right, then," Dr. Tate continued. "The tox screen also showed the presence of alcohol in your system. Nothing dramatic. But it would have exacerbated the effects of the GHP."

  "So at least I can prove I was drinking wine," she said, wishing she didn’t sound quite so waspish.

  "I never said I didn’t believe you." Gideon frowned. "Just that there was no bottle in the bathroom when I got there."

  "And I’m certain I didn’t turn on the burner under the kettle. So where does that leave us?"

  "Without answers, I’m afraid," Dr. Tate responded. "At least not medical ones. But I can tell you that you’re a lucky woman. If Gideon hadn’t gotten there when he did...well, between the GHB, the wine and the gas, I’m not sure we’d be here having this discussion."

  "But she’s all right?" Gideon’s voice was warm and concerned. Almost as if…but no, Emily wasn’t letting herself go there. Nothing had changed. At least not the important things. "No long term repercussions?" he asked.

  Dr. Tate’s gaze encompassed them both. "I’m afraid your headache will most likely last for the rest of the day. But all in all I expect you’ll be up and about tomorrow and mostly back to feeling normal. And in the long run, you’ll recover completely."

  "At least physically." The words came out of their own volition. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound morose." She forced a smile. "Thank you for your help. And your discretion."

  "I’m just glad I could be here. And I hope you figure out who is behind all of this. If he’s already tried twice…"

  "Tried what?" Blake Masterson said, bursting into the room, eyes narrowed in anger. "And what the hell are yo
u doing here, Sloan?"

  CHAPTER 7

  "DADDY, IT’S OKAY."

  His daughter shifted away from Sloan, increasing the distance between them, but Blake had seen the bastard holding Emily’s hand. With everything else that was happening, the last thing he needed was Gideon Sloan trying to seduce his daughter. The doctor nodded at Sloan and stepped from the room, another annoying underscoring of the fact that the son of a bitch was here with Emily. Taking charge. Taking his daughter.

  "Gideon saved my life." Emily looked up to meet his gaze and Blake caught his breath. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed with shadows. She looked so helpless lying there hooked up to monitors and fluids. She looked just like her mother. A shudder rippled through him. Adelaide’s last few months had been a living hell. For both of them. And somehow it made the idea that he might have lost their daughter that much harder to bear.

  "What the hell happened?" he asked, anger making his voice crack. "They said on the phone there was a gas leak?"

  "It wasn’t a leak. The burner was on. Only the flame went out." Emily tried to shrug, but the attempt at movement clearly pained her. Blake closed the distance between them, reaching for her hand.

  "You left the burner on?"

  "I…" She trailed off, shooting a glance in Sloan’s direction.

  "My team is working to try and figure out what happened," Sloan said, his eyes revealing nothing.

  "Your team?" Blake clenched a fist, trying to maintain control. "What does anything of yours have to do with my daughter?"

  "I told you," Emily said, her voice soft, weak. "Gideon saved me."

  "So you’ve been seeing him behind my back?"

  "No." She shook her head, her gaze moving between his and Gideon’s, her eyes pleading. "I needed his help and he came."

  "To rescue you from the gas leak?"

  "No, I…it’s just…it’s complicated." She lay back against the pillow with a sigh.

  "Complicated how? It seems pretty damn simple to me. I mean, how could you possibly have anything to do with this man after what he did to our family?" For the moment Blake’s anger played to his cause, making him sound righteous. Emily had believed him all those years ago. Surely he could make her believe it again now. After everything he’d gone through to secure her safety, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let an itinerant Irish bastard make a play for his daughter and her money. Emily deserved so much better than that.