Lost in the Wind Page 10

  Nikkie Jean had stepped in to help with that.

  She was an old hat at trauma and therapy and support groups, after all.

  That made her more than a little overprotective of this friend. It would be too easy for Ariella to let down her guard with Caine; if he decided to shut her out—Ariella didn’t deserve that. The rush of protectiveness for her friend that hit her didn’t surprise her at all. “What happened to her was extremely traumatic. For her, Marc, and the children.”

  “I read the articles. I suspect a lot was left out.”

  “It was. Ariella’s the sensitive type, too. Easily hurt. Far more than I am. I was there the day they rescued her and Katie.” And she would never forget Ariella’s family’s pain. “I cared for Katie while she was in the hospital.”

  “I get your message. I won’t do anything to hurt your friend. Contrary to what you believe, I’m not callous, or a monster. I don’t hurt people deliberately—even if it may seem that way. An email now and then is about all I am committing to. And that is just for my children’s sake. They’ll eventually want to know about her, them. I don’t hide from the inevitable.” He reached for the toddler in her arms.

  Nikkie Jean didn’t want to give the sweet guy up. There was something special about a warm little body cuddled close. It was hard to let that go. “He’s a sweetheart.”

  “Yes, he can be.”

  He’d dropped the curtain again, cutting her out. He’d done that before whenever she’d mentioned his children.

  Message received. She was good enough to sleep with—once, in his book, but nothing more than that. Like who she was didn’t truly matter. Especially when it came to his children.

  Nikkie Jean had spent far too many years not mattering to anyone to let this man treat her that way again.

  No worries, she was going to stay away from him from now on. As far away as possible.

  She’d just been a bed buddy that night. She’d make certain to remember that. The man just made her feel too vulnerable. Nikkie Jean had promised herself long ago that no one would ever make her feel that way again.

  She gave him back his baby and forced herself to turn and walk away. “See you around, Alvaro.”

  Well, she hoped she didn’t, actually.

  It was best to just forget all about Caine Alvaro—as fast as she could. The man was not the man for her.

  She knew that.

  Physicians like him—men like him—meant trouble. She’d learned that lesson a long, long, long time ago.

  “Goodbye, Nikkie Jean. I—”

  She wouldn’t let herself turn around to see what he had to say. It was time to forget all about him once again.

  “I’m not finished with you, Netorre. I’m coming for you. We have some things to talk about. You can count on that.”

  Nikkie Jean almost ran to her little Jeep after that. She had no clue what he meant now. There wasn’t anything the two of them needed to talk about ever again.

  Nikkie Jean was just going to keep it that way.

  24

  OF COURSE, WALLACE hadn’t been stupid. The last thing he needed was Dr. Alvaro digging into the past. He’d never padded a single invoice or insurance billing report by more than two or three percent, he’d never misappropriated supplies to make a quick profit more than three or four times a year, but over time, that kind of money had added up. Wallace wouldn’t worry about it—it wasn’t like there weren’t thousands of other practitioners doing the exact same thing. And he’d made damned certain not to violate HIPAA laws. There would be no reason for Alvaro to look more closely at Wallace’s records. He was just being paranoid.

  Most of the funds had been courtesy of Finley Creek County and Barratt County Gen. There had been a small clinic he’d been required to work at three days a month located in Garrity, as well. But it had folded more than ten years ago, due to a lack of profit.

  He probably had had something to do with that. He’d taken up to a five percent service fee there.

  He’d told himself that the extra charges had been legitimate. Physicians of high caliber were rare in this part of the state—and they all originated out of Finley Creek. Smaller hospitals like Garrity and Value owed it to men like him for taking the time to practice there.

  Over time, it had become habit. And greed. He’d bumped up the padding by another percentage point under COM Daniels three years ago. Then again under Logan Lanning. No one had noticed.

  But Caine Alvaro and Rafael Holden-Deane would be the type of men who would.

  Especially Alvaro. Alvaro wasn’t much of a businessman on the surface. He was militarily rigid, through and through. He ran a tight ship, and Wallace had to admit things were becoming far more efficient than they had been.

  In general, chiefs of medicine were not well liked at times. But Alvaro seemed fair. Just hard. Harsh. Very much like his twin brother.

  Wallace had known the two men were twins the first time he’d seen Alvaro. It was hard to miss. But FCGH had been filled with rumors about Holden-Deane from the moment he’d stepped inside.

  Wallace had done his best to avoid interacting with that man as much as possible. Holden-Deane was a shark in the health-care business world. And Wallace knew the other man could eat him alive.

  But Alvaro was who concerned him the most.

  Wallace had gotten sloppy at Barratt County. Now he had figure out a way to clean that up. Jennifer demanded that.

  From where she stood in the midst of the FCGH surgeons’ break room, glaring up at him.

  Her dark hair and eyes had always made her look like a lost little waif.

  Wallace had always loved the way his wife looked in her business suits. When they’d first met, she’d been in ragged jeans and had had six-inch bangs. And such a shy smile.

  From the wrong side of the tracks in Philly, she’d had no concept of marrying someone with a college degree, let alone an actual surgical intern. He’d been so proud; she’d been so pretty.

  He used to think he’d rescued her from the bad home life that had shaped her.

  She now liked to say she rescued herself. Wallace had always found that a tad bit insulting.

  If he hadn’t married her, she’d probably still be working at the Dairy Shack. Instead, she lived in one of the best neighborhoods in Finley Creek, their son and her nephew had both attended the best academy in the state, and he’d provided for her until her real estate business had grown larger than either one of them had ever expected.

  Yet now she stood telling him he was a problem for her. How had that happened? When had their marriage gone so wrong?

  Miranda. It had to have begun with Miranda. The nurse from Philadelphia had been Wallace’s greatest mistake.

  25

  SHE HAD A PROBLEM. And it had nothing to do with Virat’s jalapeno peppers. No fever, no sign of infection, just nausea before noon. Every day for fifteen days.

  Just like it had started with her once before. It was eerily similar.

  But today was the first time she’d ever actually gotten sick.

  Lacy handed her a paper towel and a bottle of water, having come in directly behind Nikkie Jean’s latest mad dash to the small restroom off the rear of the surgical department break room. “Care to share? Because I doubt you’re having sympathy morning sickness for Jilly. And I know you’ve been feeling off for over a week.”

  “I think I need to take a few tests. And it’s fifteen days total. I’ve been feeling nauseated for fifteen days. Today’s the first day this has happened—here.” She and Lacy had shared quite a few confidences in their time in the department together. She wasn’t as close to Lacy as she was Izzie and Annie—but Izzie and Annie hadn’t just watched her puke her guts up, either. Again.

  “Sounds like it. Anything you want to tell me?” Lacy had a knowing look in her eyes—sympathetic but knowing. Nikkie Jean closed her eyes for a moment. And then the words came tumbling out.

  Confession was supposed to be good for the soul, after all.
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  “The condom broke. We thought it was after, and I am missing half the equipment thanks to ovarian cancer in my teens, and what’s left isn’t exactly in tip-top shape, Lace. Which means, it’s not a pregnancy—it’s worse. And I don’t know if I can face that just yet. Not again.” She knew she was rambling as every thought and fear came pouring out. Her friends at W4HAV knew she’d had cancer at sixteen, but she’d never told them the exact details of what had happened. “And if it’s a pregnancy, what if something’s wrong? Everything in there is damaged, even beyond what is normal. I’m talking like four periods a year. In a good year. It can’t be a pregnancy. Pregnancy is not exactly a high possibility. So it’s much, much worse.”

  Lacy put her hands on Nikkie Jean’s shoulders and turned her to face her a little. Nikkie Jean just looked at her. “Don’t borrow trouble. Is the timing right for a pregnancy? For morning sickness?”

  Nikkie Jean did some mental math. She slowly nodded. “Yes.”

  “Did you have unprotected sex with a man capable of fathering children during the time frame you would have gotten pregnant?”

  “Yes.” He could definitely father children. She’d snuggled proof of that not even three days ago at the diner. “Sort of. I’m not exactly certain at what moment the condom broke, Lace. But it did. Never should have used a striped one. Probably would have better luck with polka dots.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Is pregnancy the most likely diagnosis?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to call him? Have him come and be with you right now?”

  She hadn’t even considered that it could be a pregnancy. The odds were just that long. Nikkie Jean needed to think. Needed to decide what happens next. “Not yet. I need to figure out just what to say—after I know for sure. I don’t think Hey, remember that night we did something totally stupid? Well, surprise, your kid number four is on the way! will cut it. Especially if it’s not a pregnancy.” But the alternative to pregnancy was far more terrifying. “And figure out if it is a pregnancy, or more tumors.”

  It wasn’t a diet issue. It wasn’t an allergy issue, or infection, or a virus. It was more than that. Nikkie Jean knew it.

  It was one of two things.

  Ovarian cancer could mimic early pregnancy symptoms—Nikkie Jean had experienced that herself when she’d been sixteen. That was why she’d asked her father’s partner if she could talk to him in her father’s home office that night after the dinner party her mother had forced her to attend with her father’s associates.

  She’d been so scared something was wrong with her. And there had been.

  Nikkie Jean knew her own body; even more now than she had at sixteen. She’d made a point of that after her father’s partner had raped her that night.

  “Probably not. But those tests? Get them done soon—or I’m tattling to Rafe and Allen.” Lacy was paged over the intercom. Before she stepped out, she turned back to Nikkie Jean. “Whatever you find out or decide, you’re not alone. We stick together around here: remember that. Thick and thin, beginning to end. Isn’t that one of the sample slogans for W4HAV? Well, it’s truth. I’ll even go grab a test from the pharmacy, if you want. We’ll let everyone think it’s for me, if asked. That Jillian’s made me paranoid. It’ll be our little secret.”

  Tears threatened to choke her. “Thanks. It’s hard to remember that sometimes. I’m really good at being alone. Been practicing my whole life. I’ve got it down to a science—it’s kind of like my superpower. Annie, Izzie, you, and W4HAV are the first real friends I’ve ever had in my adult life. It takes some getting used to.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I was the same way until Jillian and Ari. But things have changed for me. No reason they can’t for you, too.”

  “Go. And…thanks, Lace, I appreciate it.”

  Nikkie Jean was going to bite the bullet and grab a urine test from the pharmacy half a block away. She’d take the test as soon as she got home. When she was alone and would have the time to think through every ramification of everything.

  Rule out the twelve percent, before confirming that appointment with an oncologist at Finley Creek County. Something was definitely going on. Or those had been some seriously potent jalapenos.

  Jalapenos didn’t stay with a woman for fifteen days.

  26

  SHE MET FIN AS SHE was clocking out for the day. They had to head across the parking lot to W4HAV for choir practice. Nikkie Jean had no idea how she was going to sing for the next two hours without vomiting. Either from what was going on—or from nerves.

  But she had to. She had the solo on two different songs. The fund-raiser was an important one; the women of W4HAV were counting on her.

  She’d be there. Her presence finally mattered to people; she would never do anything to let them down.

  “Sorry about the letters, Fin. I know how frightened you must be.” Fin and Virat had revealed what had been bothering Fin for the past month or so—someone had been stalking her while she’d been at the hospital. Virat had stepped in to help keep her safe.

  Nikkie Jean had suspected something was going on with the two of them. Virat had been remarkably hard to find on his regular lunch break.

  As had Fin.

  Nikkie Jean had looked; she had peppers to avenge, after all.

  But more important than that, her friend was hurting. And afraid. Fin had a scary past of her own to deal with; stalking definitely made that trauma resurface.

  “I’m doing ok. I trust Vince’s son to find the man responsible,” Fin said, quietly. “Detective Acardi is at least listening to me. The previous detective wasn’t.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a man, you know. Women stalk other women.”

  “True. I just…I suppose it could be a woman. But I don’t think so.”

  Nikkie Jean shot her a look. “But at least you have Virat watching over you. And the way he looked at you…yummy.”

  “Yes. He is.” Fin’s cheeks reddened, even in the rain.

  They made it to their cars. “It would probably make more sense for me to just ride with him, wouldn’t it? But I’m not sure I want it hospital gossip yet.”

  “Yep. Because it will get out. This is Finley Creek General, remember. Best soap opera in the city. Unless you want to keep things hidden for a while?” Nikkie Jean certainly had. She was beyond grateful that no one had figured out that she had been involved with Rafe’s identical twin brother. The issues that would have caused…she was so glad she didn’t have to face them. “I know keeping eyes off your every move is an attractive reason to keep it secret. I…wouldn’t want everyone around here knowing who I am—was—involved with. Not in the beginning. Not that I’m involved with anyone, or plan on being involved with anyone in the foreseeable future.”

  Nikkie Jean looked at Fin when the other woman stumbled. Movement behind Fin caught her attention. A big, dark truck was barreling across the parking lot.

  Straight at them. Nikkie Jean screamed.

  She dove toward Fin, years of gymnastics training kicking in.

  Her hands connected with the other woman’s shoulders. She shoved, as hard as she could. Fin went backward and down. If Fin had been much bigger than she was, it wouldn’t have worked, but Fin was barely bigger than Nikkie Jean.

  The truck was almost on them.

  Nikkie Jean dove as far out of the way as she could. Her knee twisted the wrong way.

  Her head cracked against the bumper of a sedan. The last thing she heard was the sound of tires screeching away…and then the sound of Fin screaming her name.

  27

  NIKKIE JEAN WASN’T DEAD. She didn’t think. A security guard leaned over her. Nikkie Jean blinked up at him.

  “We need help, need to get inside.” Fin, someone was trying to hurt Fin. Fin needed to get inside. To Rafe or Allen or Virat or Vince. She just needed to get inside. “You ok, Fin?”

  “I think so.” Fin knelt down next to her and started running her hands over Nikkie J
ean’s torso, looking for injuries. Nikkie Jean thought. All she could feel was the pain in her head. “You’re bleeding, Nik.”

  “Hit my head.” It hurt. It was going to explode. “Truck didn’t hit, though…”

  “I’ve already radioed Vincent. He’ll get help. That truck came right at you. If you hadn’t jumped when you did, you’d be a pancake,” Tony said.

  “Not something I really want to think about.” She stayed where she was, shivering and fighting shock until people came running. Every bone in her body hurt now.

  Virat was there first. He knelt down next to Fin. Someone’s hands were at her knees, touching the rapid swelling of her left.

  Nikkie Jean bit back a whimper as they all circled around her. As they closed in.

  “What happened?” someone asked from behind him.

  It sounded just like Caine, but she knew better. Caine wouldn’t be there. Not for her, anyway. But Rafe would. Rafe would be there.

  The panic threatening to clobber her receded. A little.

  Jillian’s husband had a way of making things just work out the way they were supposed to.

  “Someone almost hit us,” Fin said. “Nikkie Jean pushed me…”

  Izzie was there. Peering at her like she was a bug. Izzie’s hand went around hers. Some of the panic receded a bit more.

  “I hit my head, Iz. And hurt my left side.”

  “We’ll get you inside. Get you x-rayed and fixed up.” Izzie leaned over her and held up some fingers. “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “Yep. I’m not a doctor, but I think your melon got rung. You’ll have to ask one of the three stooges here for certain. To x-ray?”

  “No. Can’t…might…” Izzie’s face swam in front of her face. Nikkie Jean wrapped her fingers around Izzie’s pocket and pulled her closer. There was something she had to say. To figure out. And an x-ray would be dangerous because of… “Baby, Izzie. No x-ray. Might be…a baby. Preg—”