Protecting the Pregnant Witness (6 page)

“It’s a mother’s lot in life.” The other nurse pulled away and picked up the electronic computer pad. “While you’re waiting, I’ll try to keep you busy. You can finish taking inventory of the last two trauma bays.”

Josie stood when she did. “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s Julia, please.” Her supervisor held on to the pad when Josie reached for it. “If you need a break, take it. As long as we’re not in the middle of dealing with a patient, of course. And if you have any questions related to your schooling, or to your little one there, we can talk. I’m a pretty good listener.”

“Thanks, Julia.”

Although her back didn’t ache any less, Josie’s spirits lifted a little as she continued her work. Her conversation with Julia Taylor had eased the funk she’d been in for the past few days, if not the worries about single parenthood, a surly papa-to-be or the premeditated murder of a man in prison. Her baby’s safety and well-being came first. If she could help Spencer Montgomery with his investigation, she would, just as long as he kept her name, and thus the baby’s existence, out of the spotlight.

As for everything else? Rafe? Graduation? Happiness? Success? Love? That’s what the future was for. Right now, she only had the strength to worry about today.

Two hours, one motorcycle accident with a broken arm and wounds the doctor had Josie debride or stitch up, and a completed inventory later, and she was hurrying across the employee parking lot.

She barely had time to go back to her apartment to change into some jeans and grab a sandwich before heading over to the Shamrock. Not that Uncle Robbie ever gave her grief if she was late for her shift, but he relied on her to keep things running smoothly at the bar, probably more than he realized.

As she saw the beginnings of rush-hour traffic lining up on the main road east of the hospital, she cradled her tummy and broke into a jog, weaving through row after row of parked cars until she reached her Fiesta. She unlocked the door and tossed her backpack onto the passenger seat as she slid in behind the wheel. She inserted her key and reached for her seat belt. But when she tried to start the engine, nothing. Just clicks and silence.

“Not now,” she groused. She ran her gaze over the dashboard. Gas, good. Temperature, normal. The oil thingee, where it was supposed to be. Josie took a deep breath, turned the key.

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” She held her mouth just right and tried one more time.
Click. Click. Click.
“Damn it!” She pounded her fist on the steering wheel in frustration, then just as quickly caressed her stomach. “Don’t you say words like that, little one. Mommy’s mad and a little tired. You should try to remain calm and fix your problem, rather than just swearing at it.” With a glance at her watch and a shake of her head, she popped the hood and climbed out of the car, heeding her own advice.

Not that she knew what she was looking at once she’d propped the hood open. She could put air in her tires and add washer fluid, but even this miniature engine mocked her like a puzzle she couldn’t decipher. Still, she pulled back the loose ends of her lab jacket, and reached in to pull out the oil-level indicator and jiggle a hose. Even if she knew what she was looking for, she didn’t have the tools to fix it.

Squashing down the urge to curse again, she pulled her phone from her pocket. Who was she supposed to call for something like this? Six months ago, without hesitation, she’d have dialed Rafe Delgado. But with that relationship now in a shambles, she was left with either Uncle Robbie, who would be in the middle of setup for the evening crowd at the Shamrock—or the unplanned costs of a tow truck and repair bill.

Josie was silently bemoaning the delay and resigning herself to pulling Uncle Robbie from work when a man came around the car next to hers and spoke. “Having problems with your car?”

Josie reeled from the man who seemed to have materialized from thin air, instinctively clutching her heart and her belly.

He stopped in his tracks, held up both hands in an apologetic gesture and smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s me.” She calmed her nerves and summoned up a smile herself. “I’m running late and feeling a little stressed.”

He moved up beside her to peek beneath the hood. “Isn’t that the way? Mechanical things always wait until the worst possible moment to break down.”

“I guess.” Her heart rate returned to a normal rhythm as he adjusted the bill of the black baseball cap he wore and bent over the engine to inspect it. “It makes a clicking noise when I turn the key.”

The man wore light blue scrubs, indicating he was surgical staff. And even though she didn’t recognize the buzz cut of hair or remember a San Francisco Giants fan from her rotation in the surgery wing, Josie knew the medical center had hundreds of people on staff, and even more consultants and medical students like herself who came and went throughout the year. Maybe he was military, she thought, noting the plain black glasses he adjusted at his temple, someone who’d been deployed and had recently returned. She couldn’t be expected to know everyone on staff, could she?

“Are you new here?” she asked, hoping he’d either introduce himself or make some kind of connection that wouldn’t make him seem like such a mysterious stranger. “Maybe you know Rae Sams? She’s in my class at UMKC. She’s working in the SICU now.”

“I’m new.” But no name. No acknowledgment of her friend.

Awkward.

“I’m Josie,” she offered, stepping around the fender out of his way as he scooted over to reach something behind the battery. “Do you know a lot about cars?”

His hand, scrubbed clean as if prepped for surgery, despite tinkering with her engine, slid toward the spot where hers rested on the frame of the car, stopping just shy of touching her. “A woman alone should be more careful about taking care of her things, Josie.”

A woman alone? Josie snatched her hand away. Was he hitting on her? Or was she reading a threat into his words that wasn’t there? She hugged her arms around the baby and retreated a step, her hips butting up against the car behind her. The feeling of being suddenly trapped made her pulse leap. “Look, I appreciate the help, but maybe I better just call—”

“When are you due?” He straightened from beneath the hood, glancing her way beneath the brim of his cap without directly facing her. “Babies are such precious things, aren’t they?”

“In August. I, um…” Take better care of her things?
Precious things?
The May afternoon was still sunny, yet she found herself rubbing at an unexpected prickle of goose bumps along her arms. “Who are you?”

She tried to get a better angle to read the name tag hanging from his chest pocket. Shifting in her white clogs, she was torn between the need to look him straight in the eye to get some answers and the urge to run.

Heavy tires braking on the pavement and the slam of a truck door diverted her attention for a split second. “Josie?” a deep voice called.

Her breath rushed out at the crunch of booted feet. “Rafe?”

He circled the hood of his truck, striding toward her. “What’s wrong with that rattletrap now?”

He froze at the touch of her fingers brushing over the center buttons of his black uniform shirt. She savored the familiar sensations of starched cotton and stiff Kevlar, and the warmth emanating from the skin beneath. Instead of asking why he’d shown up at the hospital when he was probably still on the clock, she curled her fingers into her palm and gave him the space his wary posture seemed to ask for. Having him here with that weirdo checking her car was good enough. She tipped her chin to meet the question in his dark eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. My car worked fine this morning, but now it won’t start. And he…”

She turned around, but the creepy good Samaritan was gone.

Josie dashed to the front of the car. “Where did he go?”

“Who?”

“There was a man.” She jerked her head to the right, then the left. Building. Cars. Pedestrians. Trees. But no man in a black ball cap and surgical blue scrubs. A nervous breath caught in her chest. She looked again.

She heard Rafe walk up behind her. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out a little bit.”

Join the club.

Josie turned. She curled her fingertips beneath the placket of his shirt and pulled herself into the broad shelter of his chest. “Don’t argue with me for two seconds, okay?” she begged, shivering in the late-day sunshine. “Just hold me.”

Chapter Five

“Jose?” Even with her arms wedged between them, Rafe could feel her shaking as though winter had set in. “Hey.”

For a few seconds he did fold his arms around her. She was a perfect fit beneath his chin. Her hair smelled like sweet lemonade and hospital disinfectant. And though the armor he wore beneath his shirt kept him from feeling the curve of her breasts or softness of her cheek resting against his chest, he was completely and instantly aware that the flare of her hip was less pronounced than it had been the last time he’d held her—and her belly was rounder, firmer, fuller, nudging him at his waist.

Holding a woman shouldn’t feel this good. The tension in him shouldn’t be easing with a sense of rightness and relief at all this body-to-body contact. Not with this woman. Not with…that baby.

Before he lost himself in the mix of new and familiar sensations, before he forgot that he was here for a reason that had nothing to do with touching and wanting, Rafe pulled back. Josie crossed her arms in front of her, still trembling over something that had upset her, and he found he couldn’t release her entirely.

He framed her face between his hands, brushing back the loose strands of silky hair that had come free from her ponytail. He hunched down a little to get a good look into her troubled blue eyes. “What’s going on? I was waiting until I finished some paperwork after a disturbance we worked this morning to come talk to you, but if you had car trouble, you should have called me sooner.”

“I was about to. But this man came over to help me.”

“I didn’t see any man.”

“I know.” She was searching again, her distress raising his alertness to the next level. Rafe pulled away and straightened, scanning 360 degrees around the employee entrance and parking lot, looking for anyone showing an interest in Josie. “It’s like he vanished. He ducked inside his car or changed his clothes or… He offered to help, but there was just something odd—something off—about him.”

“How? What did he say?” Rafe hadn’t spotted anyone who seemed out of place. But after that briefing this morning, he wasn’t about to dismiss Josie’s suspicions.

“He pointed out that I was alone and told me I needed to take better care of my things. Then he called the baby a precious
thing.
” She splayed her fingers and slid her palm down over the curve of her belly. “Maybe all these crazy hormones are just making me paranoid.”

Rafe pulled his gaze up from the faintly unsettling image of Josie protecting that child. She looked like some kind of proud maternal warrior—fierce, yet vulnerable, beautiful and…his feelings about her being pregnant weren’t really part of the equation right now. Running his fingers over the top of his hair, he took a calming breath.

“One, you’re not alone. Two, if you feel there’s a threat, act on it. Don’t second-guess your instincts or dismiss it as paranoia. And three…”
Take a breath, Delgado.
He needed to set this up just right or Josie would bolt before he had a chance to strike a deal with her. Keeping her safe would be hard enough with Kemp on the loose. Doing it without her cooperation would be damn near impossible. So make nice,
then
lay down the law. “Have you eaten?”

Confusion crinkled beside her eyes. “No. And I need to get to work.”

“In a car that doesn’t start?” Rafe turned and stooped beneath the hood to check her engine. Stranger? Bad vibe? Serial killer who was a master of disguise? He reached for her hand and tugged her up beside him. “Robbie can wait a few minutes. We need to take care of you right now.”

“Oh, don’t go all big brother on me.” She pulled her hand from his. “I don’t have the energy to deal with that right now.”

Once he was certain she’d stay close, despite her protests, Rafe turned his attention to the car. It didn’t take him five seconds to spot the disconnected cable. He pulled it up and rolled it between his fingers before reattaching it to the battery. The curse he clamped down on hissed between his teeth. “Trust me,
brotherly
isn’t what I’m feeling right now.”

“What’s wrong?”

Rafe clipped the support rod back into place, closed the hood and tucked Josie against his side away from his gun. “Get your bag and get in the truck. We’ll drive through someplace for dinner and I’ll take you home to change and then to the Shamrock.”

“You’re not my chauffeur. What about my car? You can’t fix it?”

“We’ll talk about that, too.” Rafe wasn’t looking for any man who seemed out of place in the parking lot now—he was looking at every male, trying to match one to the computerized drawing in his head. If the vanishing man was the Rich Girl Killer, then he was every bit as good as Spencer Montgomery had said—and every bit as dangerous and resourceful as his friends Trip Jones and Alex Taylor claimed. Both had worked as bodyguards for two of the women the RGK had stalked. Both women, and his friends, had barely escaped with their lives. “Now move it.”

Josie Nichols was neither a lawyer nor an heiress, so there wouldn’t be district attorneys or wealthy fathers calling in favors from KCPD and SWAT Team One. But she was getting Rafe’s protection. And she was getting it
now.

“Rafael Delgado, stop!” Josie planted her feet and twisted from his grasp. “Now
you’re
the one scaring me.”

He opened her car door, grabbed her bag, grabbed her elbow and didn’t wait for any argument as he turned her toward the truck. “You need to be scared. Your car was sabotaged. Battery cables can corrode over time and break, but they don’t disconnect and grow tool marks all by themselves.”

Her cheeks blanched, but she was nodding, moving. “That’s all you needed to say. Was that so hard?”

“Didn’t you once tell me that words weren’t my best thing?” he challenged as he helped her into the passenger seat, dropped her bag beside her feet and reached across her for the seat belt.

“Yes, but I also believe you’re a smart enough man to learn a few considerations beyond giving orders and manhandling people.”

It was impossible to miss how her hands came up to catch the seat belt and keep it—and him—from touching her stomach. Fine. Point taken. He supposed she’d added him to the list of things she had to protect her baby from. Ignoring the withering feeling that felt a little like the first time he’d realized his home life wasn’t like most of the other kids’ he went to school with, and that he’d never truly fit in, he gentled his movements and apologized. “Sorry.
Manhandling
you was never my intention. Getting you out of harm’s way
is.
”

“I know that, Rafe.” She covered his hand with hers, offering a healing understanding that his parents had never shown him. “One thing I’ve never doubted about you is that you always have my best interests at heart. I just wish you would let your… Never mind.” She patted his hand and pulled away. “I’ll admit I was a little scared. But you think I had reason to be, right?”

Oh, yeah. If she only knew.

Acknowledging the temporary truce with a nod, he closed the door and climbed in behind the wheel to start the 3500’s powerful engine. “I replaced your battery myself last winter. I clean the nodes every time I change your oil. Someone definitely got under the hood and took things apart so the engine wouldn’t start. I’ll call the lab and Detective Montgomery to take a look at it.”

As soon as he turned onto the street and pulled up to the stoplight, she moaned. “I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach.”

Rafe pressed more lightly on the accelerator when the light changed. “Calling Montgomery is just a precaution. You’re safe for now.”

“It’s not just stress. Or your driving. Oh.” Her teasing smile became a grimace as they crested a hill and went down the other side. “It’s the baby.”

His grip tightened around the steering wheel as a bolt of panic shot through him. “Is something wrong? Do I need to get you back to the hospital?”

Josie laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard in his company for far too many months now. “No. I’m hungry. Junior likes to eat about six times a day or he tells me about it.”

“It’s a he?” The panic eased at her laugh, but his knuckles were still white. He was having a son? “The
baby,
” she clarified, “could be a boy or girl. I asked the doctor’s office not to tell me when they did the ultrasound.”

A picture of a dark-haired little girl toddling into his arms distracted him for only a moment before he quashed the image beneath practicality and set aside that gut-kick of emotion. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

“I had a sandwich at noon.”

Over five hours ago, his dashboard clock winked at him. That was too long between meals even if she wasn’t eating for two. Rafe quickly scanned the road ahead and pulled off onto the shoulder as soon as it was safe. Then he shifted the idling pickup into Park and reached behind the seat for the truck’s emergency kit.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Beneath a roll of sterile gauze, he pulled out a protein bar and tossed it into her lap. “Eat.”

“Rafe, I was uncomfortable. It’s an empty tummy, not a life or death situation.”

“Eat it, anyway, until we can get a cheeseburger and a milkshake in you.”

“Thank you.” He waited for her to unwrap the bar and take a bite, blow out a sigh that rounded her lips, and lean back against the headrest in weary relief before he put away the plastic tub and shifted the truck into gear. “Actually, I’ve been craving vegetables,” she announced as another bite disappeared.

“Not pickles and ice cream?”

“Nothing weird, yet. Although I won’t be eating a tuna casserole for a while. The last time I opened a packet of tuna, the smell made me sick to my stomach.”

Rafe checked the side view mirror and concentrated on merging back into rush-hour traffic. Did he need to know the details about her pregnancy? Should these little nuggets of info about the gender of the baby, its snack habits and Josie’s needs and cravings really be sneaking their way beneath his skin and feeding something inside him that he hadn’t known was just as hungry as she was? Had to be curiosity, that was all. He’d never had any firsthand experience with pregnant women, and his only experience with fatherhood had been a history he’d spent years in therapy trying to forget.

There was no way he could become attached to the baby—Aaron’s grandson, no less—without screwing up this relationship the way he had with anybody else he’d cared about in his life.

It was vitally important that he regain Josie’s trust. If he was going to provide the protection Spencer Montgomery would not, then he needed her to listen to him. To act when he told her to, and not second-guess any of the rules he intended to lay down for her safety until the killer she could identify was caught. And he needed to focus strictly on the danger at hand.

He wouldn’t let babies and emotions and this rift between them get in the way of that.

So he’d stick to the black and white practicalities that he could deal with best. “There’s a take-out salad bar in that grocery store up on Noland Road,” he pointed out, pulling the truck into the turn lane. “Do you want me to stop there?”

“That’d be great,” she answered between chews. “Although that milkshake does sound good. Can I have both?”

A smile curved the corner of his mouth. That was the Josie he remembered, full of healthy appetites and honest to a fault. By the time they’d cruised the salad bar and driven through a fast-food restaurant for shakes and a burger for him, Josie seemed happy and amenable to the conversation they needed to have.

Her vanilla milkshake was half gone by the time Rafe had maneuvered his truck into a parking space in front of Josie’s apartment building. He shut off the engine and pocketed the key. The sun was dropping in his rearview mirror and she’d be wanting to get to the Shamrock as soon as she could wolf down that salad and change. The time to do this was now. “Do you think it was him?”

Josie was too smart to ask what
him
he was talking about. “You think the man in the hospital parking lot was the Rich Girl Killer?” She pulled the straw and ice cream from her lips, dabbing with a paper napkin while her youthful exuberance aged and grew thoughtful. “I don’t know. I never suspected it was the same guy. I didn’t get a good look at his face. But, now that I think about it, he didn’t want me to. They both wore glasses, but different styles. The hair was different. The guy at the prison had money, like an attorney, you know, all spit and polish. This guy was casual—with a ball cap and tennis shoes…”

Her gaze grew distant, remembering something horrible, imagining something worse. “Jose?” Rafe reached across the seat and touched her arm, the contact snapping her out of her disquieting thoughts.

“They both had the cleanest hands I’ve ever seen on a man.” Ah, hell. That fit Montgomery’s profile. Judging by the color draining from Josie’s cheeks, she was beginning to think that, too. She unbuckled and turned to face him across the cab. “If that was him, why didn’t he just shoot me or stab me right there?”

He slipped his hand down the sleeve of her cotton jacket and squeezed her fingers. “I, for one, am glad he didn’t.”

“You know what I mean. If he could get to me like that, why didn’t he do something?”

“Either he saw me coming and thought he’d have a witness, or…”

“Or what?” She turned her smaller palm into his, lacing their fingers together, waiting expectantly for the grim news.

“He’s toying with you. That’s been his M.O. with his victims—stalk, torment, then attack.” Rafe rubbed his calloused thumb over the cool skin of her knuckles, wanting to make her aware, not afraid. “This guy’s sick. He isn’t playing with a full deck.”

Her fingers danced nervously between his. “But Detective Montgomery promised to keep my name out of it. It’s not even written in his case file—he showed me. How could the RGK know I was the witness? How did he know where to find me?”

“If he can con his way into a prison to kill a man, he could get into a university or hospital and search its records.” Rafe offered another distasteful explanation. “He saw you with Patrick. Maybe he has connections inside there who got the info for him.”