To Save His Baby Read online

  Valerie’s eyes flew down the list, Addams, Barber, Chavez, Criswell... No Branton. What was going on? Then she remembered that his identity was still unknown to the hospital computer. She glanced farther down the chart. Criswell, Delacruz, Doe. There he was. Doe, J.

  When the authorities had heard a fragmented account of Gil’s beating outside the biker bar, the hospital had been instructed not to allow visitors until he was questioned further by the Phoenix police.

  The charge nurse’s voice was louder now and Valerie was suddenly reminded that her intended course of action might not be in keeping with hospital policy. Valerie’s domain was normally OB/GYN, so technically, now that Gil was no longer in ER, he wasn’t her patient. The resident in charge of his case might not appreciate Valerie’s interference.

  But if Gil was truly in jeopardy, moving him was the only viable solution. Still, it might be better if her covert actions weren’t witnessed. She quickly scanned the board for an empty room. Herschel in 533-A had been discharged earlier that evening. Like all the rooms on this floor, 533 was a double, but with any luck... No, 533-B was vacant, as well. Right across the hall. Easy enough for Valerie to manage his transfer without assistance.

  She quickly changed the notation by Gil’s name so the nurse wouldn’t be blamed for any resulting foul-up, then raced back toward Gil’s room. Just outside his door, she was assailed by a disquieting thought. What if the man had merely been the night janitor or someone who’d entered the wrong room? A hospital employee might take the stairs, instead of the elevator. What if Gil was delusional and she, supposedly a clear-thinking professional, had bought into his delusion?

  Remembering the unexplained pillow, Valerie shook her head. If someone meant to harm him, she was doing the right thing. If Gil was, in fact, delusional, easing his fears might calm him. She could arrange for a psych consult in the morning.

  Certain now that she’d made the right decision, she hurried into his room—and stopped when she saw his empty bed. Intravenous tubing dangled uselessly from the stainless-steel poles that held the medication pouches.

  My God, had the killer returned during her absence? Drawing in a deep breath, she bit her lip and scanned the floor around the bed, looking for Gil’s lifeless body.

  Not so much as a dust bunny lurked on the gleaming floor.

  Then, a slight sound, like the whisper of fabric, skittered into her awareness. She straightened and turned, acutely aware of a looming presence behind her.

  Her heart hammering against her rib cage, she lifted her gaze to the hulking figure. “Gil!” Relief flooded through her only to turn to anger. “What are you doing out of bed? Your IVs!”

  He shrugged in the darkness. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back. Alone.”

  Those brief words eloquently bespoke the fear, confusion and sense of aloneness that radiated from him. What had happened to him during these past months when he was missing? His injuries from the beating accounted for some of his mental confusion, but what about this paranoia? The Gil she’d known had been confident and intelligent, and exhibited no signs of mental illness.

  Sometimes, she thought ruefully, even the paranoid are being watched.

  For the very first time, Valerie questioned her own reaction to Gil’s disappearance. Why had she so swiftly leaped to the conclusion that he’d jilted her? What if...what if something truly horrible had happened to him and she’d never even tried to find him?

  Gulping back the scalding tears that were forming at the back of her throat, she closed her mind to the possibility that she’d been terribly wrong and grabbed Gil’s arm. “Hurry up, then. Let’s get you moved.”

  ALTHOUGH GIL HADN’T BEEN at all sure the beautiful doctor would help him, he had to admit that she’d moved quickly once she’d made the decision. In truth, her agreeing to move him to another room had taken him by surprise. He vaguely remembered her as the physician who’d treated him in the ER. Even then, she’d looked familiar. And oddly trustworthy.

  Later, though, when he’d glanced at her name tag, he realized why she seemed so interested in him. After all, according to his notes, Dr. Valerie Murphy had been the focus of his investigation several months before.

  Could this woman with the face of an angel truly hide a soul capable of the vile crime he’d been investigating? Why was he so willing to trust her now?

  Because he had no one else.

  His memory was patchy at best, but by using his extensive case notes, Gil had been able to reconstruct at least part of the events of the past several months. He’d come to Phoenix in an undercover capacity to ferret out the ringleader of a stolen baby operation. It was while following a lead to Los Angeles that his car had been run off a cliff. Now, he was back in Phoenix, and once again Valerie Murphy was at the center of the investigation.

  Gil twisted in the bed and slammed his bruised knuckles into the pillow. Why the hell couldn’t he just remember? In the wreckage of his splintered memory, nothing could be trusted. The very instincts he’d depended on all his life were now faulty, suspect. But if he relied purely on logic and his case file notes, Valerie Murphy was a desperate criminal quite capable of murder.

  Still, if she’d recognized him, why call in the hired dogs to finish him off when she could have easily slipped a lethal dosage into his IV line? It would have been much easier to simply let him expire in the ER than to have a hired thug skulking through the halls. Nothing in this convoluted nightmare-without-end made any sense.

  His ears picked up at a muted sound near the door.

  His eyes, now acclimated to the darkness, scanned the room. Valerie had fallen asleep in the straight-back plastic visitor’s chair. Her neck was crooked and she looked miserably uncomfortable. Casting the sheet aside, Gil started to slide out of bed, thinking to tuck his own pillow behind her neck.

  At the sudden movement, a team of Clydesdales seemed to gallop through his skull. He sagged back on the bed and leaned against the headboard while he waited for the pain to ease.

  After a few seconds the gallop slowed to a trot and he opened his eyes.

  Then, another sound in the hallway sliced through the residual pain. Moving slowly, he eased to his feet. He listened intently, then exhaled his breath when the hallway remained silent. Valerie slept on.

  In her sleep she looked soft. Vulnerable. Innocent. And very touchable.

  He reached for the pillow, surprised at the tension radiating through his shoulders. Tension that was oddly lessened when he moved closer to the dozing woman. His prime suspect.

  Gently lifting her head, he slipped the pillow behind her neck. Her eyes fluttered open. “What time is it?”

  Gil marveled at the way she awoke fully alert, her wits immediately engaged. These days, more times than not, he awoke groggy, filled with confusion, jagged memories and a choking sense of danger. He glanced at the wall clock. “Two-fifteen.”

  She nodded and stretched. Her arms flexed above her head, tightening her sweater against her body, outlining her full breasts and slightly rounded tummy. An enticing earth mother, he thought. Sensual and inviting. Gil had to remind himself that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down with this woman. His very life might depend on his vigilance.

  Yet her natural and seemingly innocent movement was stirring and provocative. His groin tightened in automatic response to her physical pull.

  She rubbed her cheeks with her knuckles, blew a golden strand of hair from her mouth and looked up at him, her eyes luminous in the soft moonlight. “Why aren’t you sleeping? You need to build your strength.”

  He shrugged, ignoring that jab of pain that accompanied the movement. “I guess that twelve-hour catnap refreshed me. Besides, I—”

  He broke off when she raised her hand, signaling for silence. Sensing that she’d heard the same sound that had woken him, he held his breath and craned his neck. Wordlessly they both listened intently for a repeat of the stealthy noise. Motioning her to remain still, Gil inched toward the door.

/>   His hand was on the knob when he felt Valerie’s warm breath on the back of his neck. She was standing so close behind him that the heat off her body scorched his shoulders. He tensed, unaccountably annoyed by her obvious willingness to plunge into the dangerous situation. Did she think the assassin would demur because she was a woman or a doctor? Or did she have another more sinister reason for believing she was safe?

  Gil turned and jabbed his finger toward the guest chair, giving her an agitated glare. Stay over there where it’s safe, he silently implored.

  Either she couldn’t see his expression in the darkness or she chose to ignore him, because her strong hand grasped his shoulder. She clamped down, firmly enough to sting his bruised muscles, and motioned him aside. “Move!” she hissed.

  She was right of course. If the killer spotted Valerie, he wouldn’t necessarily be alerted, but if he saw him...

  Gingerly rubbing his sore shoulder, he stepped aside. Valerie crept to the door, opening it a scant inch. Leaning over her shoulder, Gil felt her back muscles tense, then a sharp intake of breath just before she closed the door and collapsed against it.

  Gil grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the tiny adjoining bathroom. Closing the door to assure they wouldn’t be overheard, he pressed his mouth against her ear. “You saw him?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “G-going back into your room.”

  Gil hesitated for a moment, then nodded decisively. “Where’d you hide my clothes? I’ve got to get out of here.”

  As he moved toward the door, she tugged at his flimsy cotton nightgown, causing a breeze to chill his backside. “You can’t go out there!” Urgency was harsh in her whispered voice. “He...he had a gun.”

  “All the more reason for me to hit the road, Doc. Now are you going to tell me where my clothes are, or do I have to take yours?” A concept Gil wouldn’t mind exploring further under different circumstances.

  She shook her head. “Your clothes are nothing but bloody rags. We had to cut them off you.”

  “Then I hope the candy stripers aren’t going to be shocked by the sight of my bare butt, ‘cause I’m getting out of here!”

  “Wait a minute. I’ll find you something.” She slipped out of the confined space.

  Although Gil feared she would telephone hospital security or try to apprehend the gunman by herself he had no choice but to let her go. When he heard the door to the hall close behind her, though, he was almost overcome by a sense of...loss. As if the room had been fuller, more complete, with her in it.

  Moments later she was back. She tossed his Reeboks and a pair of green surgical scrubs at him, saying, “The shoes were in the bottom of the nightstand. Hurry. I’ll see what he’s up to. By now he knows you aren’t in your old room.”

  She disappeared again and Gil leaned against the bathroom wall while he donned the trousers. It took three tries to fasten the drawstring waist.

  This unaccustomed weakness was ticking him off. Even without his memory, Gil knew he’d spent the first thirty-five years of his life in excellent physical condition. Able to meet any challenge. Until that “accident” four months ago.

  Since his release from the Los Angeles hospital, he’d worked like a fiend to recover his strength. Then, today, those bikers had wiped out all his progress with a few well-placed blows from coiled chains. How in hell was he supposed to protect the sexy doctor? In his present condition he couldn’t protect himself against a kitten.

  By the time he’d managed to get his clothes on and his bare feet thrust into his Reeboks, Valerie was back.

  “He knows you’re gone,” she said softly. “He’s checking the rooms on the other side of the hall. He’ll be here in no time!”

  Gil drove his fingers into his hair as he tried to think of a plan, a way to get them out of this trap. But he was still fuzzy, a combination of the punches he’d taken and the drugs the hospital had dripped into his veins. “We need a diversion. Something to distract him so we can get away.”

  “What about calling 911? If we reported an armed man loose in the hospital, the police would be here in force within minutes.”

  “Not soon enough,” Gil responded.

  “We have to do something! We can’t just wait here until he finds us.”

  “I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” The hospital windows didn’t open, so they were out as potential escape routes. And only a single door led into the corridor. “Where’s the nearest fire escape?”

  “The end of the hall,” she said. “Six or eight rooms away.”

  “Okay. When he goes into the next room, we’ll make a run for it.”

  Valerie tossed her head. “Not enough time. You couldn’t run ten feet. But I think I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “Just tie your shoes and wait by the door for the signal.” Once more she darted out of the tiny bathroom.

  “Wait! What signal?”

  She didn’t reply and an instant later, a wedge of light sliced the darkened room as Valerie opened the door to the hall.

  Chapter Three

  Valerie poked her head out the door and jerked it back as the man stepped out into the hallway again, his gun glimmering beneath the overhead light. Taking deep breaths to calm her pounding heart, she inched the door open and watched.

  With a quick glance behind him, the man hoisted his weapon and tiptoed down the hall to the next room. Valerie counted the seconds he was in the room. “One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three...”

  Twenty-two seconds later he reappeared, twisting his head right and left, looking for any sudden motion, any break in the routine, before checking the next room.

  Twenty-two seconds.

  All the time she had to save their lives.

  When the shadowy figure disappeared into the next room, Valerie stepped out into the hall and scanned the bare walls, looking for the object she knew shouldn’t be far away. There! Four doors down.

  Between her and the killer.

  Could she make it there and back in twenty-two brief seconds? If he spotted her, Valerie was under no illusions that he would hesitate to stop her from calling for help. Permanently.

  She had no choice. It was the only chance they had.

  Once again the killer, farther away this time, reappeared in the dim hallway and looked around. He quickly covered the few feet to the next room. Only one more room on that side of the hall, then he’d turn and head back in their direction. Once he started working his way toward them, her odds of success would be cut even more.

  Her hand trembling on the cold doorknob, Valerie held her breath and waited. Like clockwork, the killer furtively reentered the hallway, scanned the area and methodically went about his business.

  The instant he disappeared into the last patient room on the opposite side, she raced out the door and ran. One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three...

  Four seconds to reach the fire-alarm fixture mounted on the wall. Another precious six seconds to read the instructions printed on the front. Eleven-one thousand. Twelve... Valerie snapped open the glass-fronted plate shielding the unit. Thirteen-one thousand. Pulled the handle. Fourteen-one thousand.

  She jumped reflexively as a shriek, wild and penetrating as a banshee’s wail, reverberated in the quiet. Clutching her ears against the piercing siren, she darted back down the hall. No sense counting the seconds any longer. That shrill noise would cause comatose patients to leap from their beds and spill into the corridor.

  She had to get back to the room and out of sight before the killer made it into the hall.

  The next few seconds were a blur of noise and chaos as bells pinged and apprehensive patients called out in confusion. Guilt stabbed her for frightening people who needed uninterrupted rest to aid in their recovery. Fortunately, she thought as she pulled open Gil’s door and slipped inside, no cardiac patients were housed on this ward, so at least she wouldn’t be responsible for someone expiring of heart failure. Unless her ow
n pulsing heart burst.

  With Gil hovering over her shoulder, they peeked out the door as the normally quiet hospital exploded into pandemonium. Nurses, orderlies and patients poured into the hall as emergency procedures for evacuation were set into instant motion.

  Hospital administration had been diligent in conducting fire- and catastrophe-response drills. Valerie knew the well-trained staff would have the entire floor evacuated in less than five minutes. If Gil was right in his assertion that the killer was a professional, he’d take even less time to figure out the alarm was a ruse. Once the floor was vacated, he’d have free rein to conduct a quick—and deadly—search.

  They had to use the cover of the crowded hallway to make their escape. “Okay, stay close to me and we’ll blend in long enough to reach the lobby,” she said as she opened the door.

  Valerie had taken one step into the hall when she spotted him.

  The dark-clothed executioner, with a suspicious bulge beneath the thin jacket he carried, was moving toward a group of patients being hustled toward the nurses’ station. Valerie saw his head bob as he inspected each patient, anticipating finding his prey.

  She ducked back inside just as he swung around. Dear God, had he spotted her?

  Holding her hand against her thudding heart, she whispered, “Scratch plan A.”

  “What’s plan B?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest.”

  Gil flipped on the overhead light. The bright fluorescent glare stung their eyes as the shrieking alarm singed their senses. Valerie had the sensation that the end of the world was rapidly approaching. She hugged her waist in a protective gesture to still her trembling hands.

  Gil was moving about the room, opening drawers and cabinets. “Help me find something to use as a weapon. He won’t be expecting me to take the offense. It’s our only chance.”

  Valerie shuddered, remembering the huge gun she’d glimpsed in the killer’s hand. No, they wouldn’t disarm that man with iodine and a scalpel. But maybe they could outwit him.