Attracted to Fire (6 page)

“Dr. Sanchez's nurse hasn't been cleared. Her ex is doing time.”

“Deal with it, Ash. Lindsay is low on the priority list.”

His eye twitched. “Yes, sir.”

“The Halls will be leaving here as soon as their daughter is settled. The hospital is making sure she's all right to travel.”

Hospital?
Settled
meant heavy sedation, but that was against Dr. Sanchez's convictions. “Is there a reason for bringing her here at night?”

“Suicide attempt.”

That was a first. “I'm sorry. How are the VP and his wife doing?”

“Not good. Also another threat to Lindsay. Happened before the suicide episode.”

Now Ash understood. “We'll see you in a few hours.”

Sympathy for the Halls turned to anger. Why did God allow good people to suffer? The VP and his wife had spent years in third world countries helping women and children survive persecution, disease, hunger, and slavery. More than once, the couple had been airlifted out of places the most stalwart of people would avoid. And this is what they faced now? Possibly the greatest trial of all.

Ash studied the faces of his team. All eyes were on him. “Heads up. Lindsay will be here in about six and a half hours. We have lots to do. Pepper, that means you, too. Don't even think about going to bed.”

“I'm the cook, not a techie.” Pepper snatched up her Dr Pepper can.

“I want coffee for us and something for the VP and his wife when they arrive.” Ash squared his resolve. “I think Mr. Burnette would want you to take care of his guests.”

She paused, then disappeared into the kitchen. For once, she didn't balk.

“Connors, I need a thorough background check on Carla Bertinelli. Everything you can find. We've talked about this. She's a widow, but husband number one is doing time for extortion. See what connections both husbands might have had.”

“What about the Leonards?” Wade picked up a notepad as though he already knew the answer.

“Brief them and again impress on them the gravity of the situation.”

Agents flew in different directions, and Meghan was already on her laptop. With no one else in the room, he noted her intense concentration. “Lindsay can be difficult.”

“I read the report.”

“She has good aim.”

“I'll learn how to duck.”

She wouldn't back down. “You're doing a good job.”

Her gaze never left the screen. “Thank you.”

“But women don't belong in the agency.”

She slowly lifted her head, fingers positioned on the keys. He'd never noticed her long lashes or the splattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. “We'll see. I want to prove I'm not one of the weaker sex.”

From the way his insides weakened when he looked at her, she was already on her way to proving her point.

Chapter 7

At 0300, the distinct sound of whirling helicopter blades captured Meghan's attention. She stood with the protective team and waited near the lighted landing pad, while the VP, his wife and daughter, Dr. David Sanchez, Carla Bertinelli, and two special agents disembarked.

The lines on Vice President Hall's face had deepened since Meghan had seen him four days ago. With agents at his side, he carried his sleeping daughter into the house. No doubt sedated, a dichotomy since Dr. Sanchez's methods opposed any prescriptions or over-the-counter drugs. Doubts bannered across her mind about the infamous psychologist and his high percentage of rehabilitating addicts who stayed clean.

Once Lindsay had been put to bed, the medical team, Pepper, and the agents met with the vice president and his wife in the kitchen. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, and Pepper had baked a coffee cake, but no one seemed interested in the latter. Pepper poured a fresh cup for Alexa Hall and added a dollop of cream and a spoonful of sugar, but Dr. Sanchez and Ms. Bertinelli declined any food or drink.

“We refrain from sugary baked goods and caffeine.” Dr. Sanchez stiffened.

Meghan studied the man chosen to counsel and encourage Lindsay to shake her addictions. If the grim look on his face was any indication of his personality, the protective team and Lindsay were in for a long summer.

The VP eased into a chair with a cup of black coffee. “Dr. Sanchez, I'm putting my daughter into your care.”

“Is that why you sedated her before you called?”

The VP's face hardened. “I had no choice.”

“You could have discussed it with me first.” Dr. Sanchez, a slight, blue-eyed man, ran his fingers through dark hair. “I apologize, sir. My work and my patients are my life. I thought we'd agreed on Lindsay's treatment. Every time a foreign substance enters her body, her recovery is delayed.”

“My daughter is more than my life.” The VP's words sounded like rumbling thunder. His wife touched his shoulder, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile before giving his attention to Dr. Sanchez. “Lindsay was hysterical and violent, outraged that the suicide attempt had failed. You saw her bandaged wrist. And you—” he aimed his finger at the doctor—“didn't find her. I was the one who forced down her apartment door and found her in a pool of blood. I phoned the ambulance while checking her pulse. I pressed a towel onto her wrist and prayed.”

“Yes, sir. Again, I apologize for my outburst and my insensitivity. It won't happen again.”

The VP lifted his coffee cup to his lips, as though needing time to compose himself. The red in his face faded. “Before I talk to Agent Zinders about the state of the ranch's security, I want you to explain to these fine agents your treatment plan.”

Dr. Sanchez cleared his throat. “Carla and I will work closely with Lindsay during the coming hours, days, and weeks. We have no idea how long it will take for her to make a decision to leave the past behind. My method is to treat her with nutritional supplements, have her eat balanced meals, involve her in exercise and around-the-clock counseling.”

“What supplements will she be taking?” Meghan had researched his approach to rehabilitation and wanted to monitor Lindsay's intake while on duty with her.

“I appreciate your interest. Lindsay will be taking vitamin B
12
under the tongue to improve her nutrient uptake and enzyme action for better brain function. She will take balanced macronutrients to include quality proteins in medical foods for optimal blood-sugar control. This will be administered in the form of a smoothie twice daily. She will eat every three hours, which will also optimize blood-sugar control.” He nodded at Pepper. “I'd like a consultation appointment with you as soon as possible.”

“Also on her plan is vitamin B
6
and Saint-John's-wort as a nervine tonic to balance emotions. Fish oil for cell membrane support and better hormone signaling, flax oil to help restore the lipid membrane of damaged myelin sheath from body toxins, magnesium for nerve transmission and a calming effect, and passionflower at night to help her sleep and encourage hormone production.” He pulled several sheets of paper from his laptop case. “I have her treatment plan here for Miss Davis and for any agents who are interested.”

“I'll take a hard copy and an electronic one.” Ash's tone clearly indicated his skepticism. He jotted his e-mail address and gave it to Dr. Sanchez.

“I'd like both too.” Meghan reached for the offered sheet of paper. “I'll give you my e-mail address in the morning.”

Mrs. Hall slid into a chair beside the VP. “We believe in Dr. Sanchez's methods, and we hope all of you will encourage Lindsay to cooperate.” She was pale, trembling. “There cannot be any repeats of . . .”

The VP took his wife's hand. “Special Agent Zinders, do you have questions? I forbid any alcohol consumption on this ranch while my daughter is here. Scottard gave me a key to his bar.” He handed it to Ash. “Before you go to bed, lock it up.”

“Yes, sir.”

The VP nodded at Ash. “Need I remind you that my daughter's life is at stake?”

“Sir, I have Lindsay's best interests at heart. Always have.”

The VP rubbed his face. “I know. This has been a long day. Longer night. You've never let me down. Didn't mean to bite your head off.”

Dr. Sanchez gestured to the petite, middle-aged woman beside him. “My assistant will be available to answer any questions, but understand her first responsibility is to Lindsay.”

“As is ours.” Ash's voice fired electricity around the room.

“Thank you, Ash.” The VP took another drink of coffee. “Dr. Sanchez has the ultimate word about Lindsay's treatment. However, Special Agent Zinders and his team are in charge of her security.”

“I understand.” Dr. Sanchez's confidence in his methods would surely rival Ash's policies. “I also have her diet and cooking instructions.”

“That's for me.” Pepper held out her hand and another copy went to Ash and Meghan. “We can have the consultation appointment anytime tomorrow.”

“I'll leave extra copies on the kitchen counter.” Dr. Sanchez lifted his chin. “Lindsay's diet is like a triangle. Each point is critical to her recovery: protein, carbohydrates, and fats and oils. This discipline—”

“Dr. Sanchez, just the basics.” The VP smiled.

“Certainly.” He reached inside his laptop case and pulled out a thin book, which he gave to Pepper. “I've written a book that explains the diet, what's included, and why. What's important is that she consumes natural and organic foods and nutrients.”

Pepper frowned. “Am I supposed to cook separately for the agents and Lindsay?”

Dr. Sanchez continued to smile—like a Cheshire cat. “I'd like to think we all could eat nutritionally sound.”

“Never mind.” Pepper blew out a sigh. “I'm not going to ruin my reputation by preparing bland meals. If fresh and organic is what Lindsay needs, then she'll have it. The garden is at my fingertips.”

Meghan hid her amusement. What a motley crew.

“Thanks, Pepper. Scottard said I could depend on you.” The VP nodded in her direction. “Once we leave here, we'll not be returning until Dr. Sanchez assures me that Lindsay is ready to see us. He needs to have Lindsay's confidence, and my wife and I are not in that circle. Agent Connors, I hope you're able to influence her to make appropriate decisions for the future. Your past indicates success in many areas, and I hope this is one more. In addition, Dr. Sanchez is aware of the threats made on Lindsay's life.”

“I believe we're all on the same page.” Ash handed him a printout. “This is an up-to-date report on the security plan—much tighter than in the past.”

The VP turned the sheet of paper over and folded his hands. “I've shared everything with you in the hopes that you'll better understand the seriousness of my daughter's illness. Pepper, Dr. Sanchez, Ms. Bertinelli, you are excused. Ah, Ms. Bertinelli, I understand you're sleeping in the same room with Lindsay tonight?”

“Yes, sir. I'm a registered nurse.”

“She can be difficult to handle. Do not hesitate to call for assistance. An agent will be posted outside the door.”

The three left the room, bidding good night to those remaining. The stairs creaked, indicating their ascent to the second story.

Meghan had used nutritional supplements, sound nutrition, and exercise for years and advocated them to family and friends. Her doubts about Dr. Sanchez subsided, and she allowed her suspicions to rest for a moment. She'd learned early on in her career to reserve her trust until a person proved worthy. It was a priceless commodity, and anyone could be bought for the right price.

“And now I want to give you the latest information about the threats.” Lines deepened across the VP's forehead—a time line of agony. “The threats against Lindsay have yet to be traced. I know you're aware of the latest reports.”

“Do you have a name yet?” Ash seated himself across from the VP.

“Only that his origin is Colombia. Possibly a resurgence of the Medellín Cartel.”

“But that was dismantled in the early '90s.”

“Some habits are hard to break. Millions of dollars flow through Colombia's drug trade. But we're on it.”

Meghan studied the VP's weary face. So much responsibility filled this man's life. The president was dying, and that meant the Shield could soon be taking over the world's toughest job. She had no doubts about his leadership abilities. His life consisted of one outstanding achievement after another. Currently, his peacekeeping efforts in the Middle East were obtaining worldwide recognition.

She focused her attention on Ash. She didn't see any animosity, only a deep concern for the vice president and his plight. Perhaps his detail-oriented nature was a plus to protect all of them—a possibility she hadn't considered.

Chapter 8

Where am I?
A hazy mist fogged Lindsay's mind while she struggled to remember the last several hours, or was it days? Depression. Wanting to die. The hospital. Bright lights. Muffled voices. Sterile and medicinal. This felt different. Smelled fresh.

Oh no, not another rehab.

Blinking, she recalled slipping into a black hole that consumed her, urging her to leave this world behind.
You're worthless. No one loves you.
She'd stumbled to her kitchen for a knife, then took it back to the bathroom. Staring at her wrist, she wanted so desperately to die and yet craved a reason to live. The veins seemed to pop up and taunt her, until she had no choice but to slice into them. The blood. Red and thicker than what she'd imagined. She forced herself to stand and write “I'm sorry” on her bathroom mirror in blood. So many other thoughts about her wasted life had flown in and out of her mind, but she couldn't concentrate on anything meaningful, much like now. The last thing she remembered was sliding to the floor, her blood-coated finger trailing the
y
in
sorry
. She tried to add that she loved them, but her strength was fading. Weakness replaced the self-condemnation, and she basked in the relief. Soon it would be over. No one wanted her, and she couldn't blame them. They were better off. She'd been a burden since the day she was born. So many mistakes . . . believed so many lies.