Agent Undercover

And Will always seemed glad to see him. But Dylan felt there was something he was missing, something he should be doing for Will. He just wished he could put his hands on what that something was.

Even the therapist Will had been going to seemed stumped at the child’s continued silence.

They walked into the cafeteria and Will went straight to the fruit section. Dylan got him a bowl of grapes and banana slices, and they found a table in the corner. Will picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of banana.

Surprise hit Dylan when he found himself wanting to hurry Will up so they could go back to check on Paige.

Swallowing hard, he examined what he was feeling. He wasn’t in a good place to be this attracted to someone. He had been engaged until very recently, but Dylan could finally admit that his and Erica’s relationship had died long ago even though the recent betrayal still hurt.

Pushing those thoughts away, Dylan felt a smile curve his lips. It might be fun to get to know Paige. To see what she was all about.

To hear her deepest secrets.

Then he frowned. Of course if he expected that of her, he’d have to be willing to reciprocate.

Then he flushed, embarrassed by his premature thoughts. He’d just met the woman. He knew nothing about her. For all he knew, she might have a boyfriend somewhere. Someone who lived in another state and just hadn’t come to be by her side.

The television caught his attention. The reporter was talking about Paige’s amazing rescue this morning. Captivated and horrified all at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who stood in front of the school where it had all happened giving a detailed account of the near miss.

In his mind, he watched it all over again as her bike flashed in front of the car, her arm snaked out to grab Will and then the front headlight clipped her back wheel. And down she went.

He sucked in a lungful of air.

Not knowing where the sensation came from, he couldn’t help feeling his life was getting ready to be rocked by the strawberry blonde, blue-eyed woman lying on the bed upstairs.

As soon as the doctor stepped from the room, Paige grabbed the cell phone that had been placed on the table beside her. She punched in the number she’d memorized a long time ago.

Her boss answered on the second ring. “Ashworth,” Charles Forester almost growled, “where are you? Are you all right? I just talked to ‘your principal’ who said you were in the hospital. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” Well, she would be. “But we’ve got a problem. Reporters have already gotten wind of the story and are making a big deal out of it.”

Filling him in, she did her best to ignore the aching in her head compounded by his sudden bid for her to hold on.

She held.

A minute later, he said, “I’m back.”

“I should be out of here tomorrow and plan on getting back to the school as soon as possible.” She paused. “How’s Larry’s family doing?”

“Not good.” His voice lowered. “They need his killer brought to justice, Paige.”

“I’m working on it, but I need you to make sure that my face doesn’t appear on the news. If some hotshot reporter or photographer decides to make this his story, and someone recognizes me …”

A long pause.

“Charles?”

“I’m watching the reports now. Got Louis to pull it up and stream it to my computer as soon as you said something about reporters.” Louis, the DEA’s tech guy who could do anything with a computer. “Right now, the story’s only on the local channel. We’ll do our best to keep it that way.”

Paige blew out a sigh and shifted her head. “And you’re still against working with the sheriff on this one?”

“Definitely. He’s squeaky clean, but Larry’s dead, and the investigation of his death hasn’t produced much. Let’s keep this one close to our vest for now. If we need to bring the sheriff into it, we will. I’m still screening his deputies.”

Thoughtlessly, Paige nodded and grimaced at the shaft of pain that shot through her. Maybe she’d be out of commission a bit longer than she thought.

“All right, give me a couple of days, and I’ll see how I feel. One more thing, you’ll never guess who the little boy was.”

“Who?”

“Dylan Seabrook’s nephew, Will Price. Dylan was walking him to school when all this happened. Dylan always lets him cross to the guard who waits in the center of the street. He was almost to her when the car came flying down the street toward him.”

Charles scoffed in disbelief. “You’re kidding. Sandra Price’s son? The woman who was killed in the fire with Larry?”

“Yes.” She paused. “This accident may actually be a blessing in disguise. It gives me a way to get close to Dylan.”

A pause. “Are you sure it was an accident?”

She thought about it. “No, I’m not.”

“If the people who killed Larry and Sandra think Dr. Seabrook knows something, they may decide he needs to disappear—or cause his nephew to in order to keep him quiet.”

“I know.” The thought filled her with dread. “I need to find out if he’s had any threats made against him or Will.”

“That sounds like a good place to start. Listen, I know you haven’t had a chance to really work on the case yet, but given that you’ve been in the town for a couple of days, are you sure we’ve got you in the right place? The elementary school rather than the high school?”

“I think so, based on what Larry said about Sandra being friends with one of the parents who was arrested. Although she didn’t know the name of the person who supplied the drugs—or exactly how they were being transported through the school—she was pretty adamant that they were coming from the elementary school. The ID found in the fire is the biggest sign, of course.” A charred staff ID from Rose Mountain Elementary School had been found in the residue of the fire.

“And the drug dogs came up empty.” He sighed. “All right then. Keep in mind, we’ve also got a detective questioning those two parents who were arrested for possession.”

Paige pulled in a breath. “Great. As soon as I recover and do a little investigating, I’ll be in touch.”

“You’d better be.”

“Bye.”

“Oh, Ashworth.”

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “Good job on saving the kid.”

“Thanks, Charles.”

“And keep in mind, there are major storm and tornado watches going on in your area. I know tornados in the mountains are rare, but not unheard of. Keep up with the weather.”

“Will do.”

She hung up the phone and set it back on the table.

Her brain whirled. Where to start? She looked around the room. A small bouquet of flowers sat near the sink.

She had just now noticed them. A smile curved her lips. No doubt they were from Dylan and Will. Then she frowned. She didn’t need to be having any warm, fuzzy feelings for the brother of the woman she was here to look into.

A knock on the door made her jump. By reflex, her hand went for the weapon she normally carried in her shoulder holster. Only to come up empty.

Right. She hadn’t wanted to carry the gun into the school, so she’d left it locked in her gun box in the drawer of her nightstand. But she didn’t have any enemies here. She was simply a guidance counselor.

“Come in.”

The door opened once again and a man Paige knew to be her new boss stepped in. The principal of Rose Mountain Elementary.

She offered him a weak smile. “Hello, Dr. Bridges.” She’d met him briefly at the district office on the day of her interview two weeks ago. Only the superintendent of the school district, whose cooperation had been needed to secure Paige’s position at the school as the new guidance counselor, knew the real reason she was in Rose Mountain.

“Please. Call me Tom. How are you feeling?”

“Like I cracked my head open.”

He gave a laugh and, for the next few minutes, they continued the small talk. Then Tom asked, “Is there anyone I can call for you? A man named Charles answered the emergency number you listed on the application. Said he was your brother.”

“Right. Thank you for contacting him.” They’d agreed Charles would play the role of her brother if he ever needed to come see her during one of her undercover operations. Or if there was ever an emergency. Like this morning.

“Yes. He said to let him know if your condition worsened and he’d come.”

Charles had been giving her time to call him and let him know whether she needed help or not. “I appreciate you doing that.”

He stood. “Well, you take your time getting well. We’ll see you when the doctor says you can come to work.”

“Thank you.”

After he left, she closed her eyes. In her mind, she pictured the agent who’d been killed in the fire with his informant—and girlfriend. Paige frowned at that. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Larry’s choice, but he’d been struck by the woman the moment he’d met her in the teacher’s lounge of the high school.

The feeling had been mutual and Sandra Lee Price, Dylan’s sister, had agreed to help the DEA put away as many people as possible that were involved in the drug ring that was suspected to be originating out of Rose Mountain.

And now she was dead, along with Larry, an excellent agent and Paige’s good friend. She bit her lip to stem the tears.

Paige glanced at the door where Dylan and Will had disappeared a little while ago.

It was Paige’s job to find out exactly how much Dylan knew about his sister’s death. And if he was involved in any way.

THREE

Dylan dropped Will off at school—this time walking him all the way to his classroom door—and headed for the hospital. He’d had a restless sleep the night before, and it was all thanks to the pretty blonde woman on the fifth floor saving Will’s life over and over in his dreams. Her twisted bike waited in his garage.

Climbing out of his car, he loped to the front door and made his way upstairs.

The two ladies and one male nurse at the nurses’ station waved as he passed. Walking down the hall, he slowed when he spied someone hanging around Paige’s door. A relative? A friend?

A significant other?

Dylan was unsure whether to keep going or come back another time.

The guy hesitated, placed his hand on the doorknob, then pulled it back as though undecided whether he should enter the room or not. Dylan tried to get a look at his face, but the baseball cap shielded his features as he looked left, then right.

A funny feeling twisted inside Dylan. “Hey, can I help you?”

The man froze, ducked his head and started walking toward the exit. “No thanks, wrong room.”

Dylan watched him push open the door to the stairs and disappear.

His suspicions increased. Something about the guy made alarm bells go off. He walked quickly to the end of the hall and looked into the stairwell. No one was visible.

Shaking his head and telling himself the man may very well have had the wrong room, Dylan decided not to make a big deal out of it. Although, he had to admit, his instincts continued to shout that something wasn’t right.

Arriving at Paige’s door, he pushed away the uneasy feeling, took a deep breath and wiped his damp palms down the sides of his khaki slacks.

Why was he so nervous?

Because he was attracted to Paige. He wanted her to like him. For the first time since his fiancée’s desertion, he cared what a woman thought.

And he desperately wanted to keep her around to see her with Will again. She just might be the key to unlocking the boy’s self-imposed silence. A mixture of self-disgust and humor at his befuddled state of mind nearly had him laughing. But he sobered up and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He entered to find Paige pulling a brush through her hair as gently as possible. The bandage that had been on the back of her head yesterday was gone. He gulped at the zing of attraction that rippled through him. He hadn’t just imagined her beauty. “At least they didn’t have to shave it.”

She gave a chuckle. “No. I think they were more worried about the effects of the bump than the small cut.”

He frowned. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m going home.” She wrinkled her nose. “And before you ask, yes, I feel up to it. I feel much better today than I did yesterday, that’s for sure. No dizziness, still a slight headache, but no blurred vision. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days. I’m not at a hundred percent yet, but—” she shrugged “—I’m getting there.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Dylan smiled. “He’s at school”

“No lasting side effects for him?”

“No. Not this time,” he murmured.

She dropped her arm, the brush clutched in her right hand. “This time?”

Had he said that out loud?

“Will’s mother, Sandra, was killed in a fire almost two months ago. He has nightmares about it from time to time. Last night was peaceful. I checked on him off and on all night, and he slept pretty well.”

Concern clouded her pretty eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about his mother. How awful. What happened?”

Dylan set his jaw. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. For now, do you need a ride?”

She cocked her head at him. “I was going to take a cab.”

His smile reappeared. “All the way from Bryson City to Rose Mountain?”

She flushed. “Oh. How far away are we?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“I guess I’m more used to big-city living than small-town.”

“Which big city are you from?”

“Atlanta.”

A soft whistle escaped him. “Wow, you’re serious when you say big city, aren’t you? What brought you to our little mountain town?”

A frown furrowed her forehead. “Let’s just say I needed a change. The slower-paced lifestyle appeals to me.”

Well, that was good news. That might mean she planned on staying for a while. He lifted a brow. “So? You want a ride?”

“Um … sure. Let me just get my things.”

A knock sounded at the door and Dylan moved to pull it open. A large man decked out in green scrubs pushed a wheelchair. He flashed her a bright smile. “Your limo is ready.”

Paige frowned. “I don’t need a chair.”

“Hospital regulations, ma’am.”

Dylan watched the frown slide off to be replaced with resignation. “Fine.”

After she was settled, the three of them left the room. Dylan jogged ahead to get the car and pull it around.

Once Paige was in the passenger seat, Dylan asked, “Where am I going?”

She gave a little laugh—and winced.

He frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, now stop asking. I live on Mockingbird Lane in Knightsbridge Subdivision.”

He lifted a brow. “That’s not too far from where Will and I live.” A surge of elation slid through him at the idea of her living so close to him. Then he wondered why it mattered. But it did. The attraction he felt for her, the connection she seemed to have with Will—both excellent reasons for keeping her nearby.

“So, Dr. Seabrook, you didn’t have to see patients today?”

Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. Grabbing it from the clip on his side, he said, “Hello?”

“Where are you, Dylan?” Margaret, his secretary and friend from church. They’d dispensed with formalities when he’d hired her after her husband had died of a massive heart attack.

He frowned. “Taking a friend home from the hospital. What’s wrong?”

“I have a young man standing here who said you promised to meet him this morning to give him a reference letter.”

Dylan racked his brain—and found what he was looking for. “I totally forgot. I have it all ready. I just need to print and sign it. Tell him if he can give me about thirty minutes, I’ll be there.”

“You got it. See you then.”

He looked over at his passenger. “Is your head all right? Do you mind if we swing by my office when we get into town?”

She shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“I promised a reference letter for a very promising young man in my church. He wants to get into medical school, and I think he’d make an excellent doctor.”

Thirty-five minutes later, Dylan pulled into the parking lot and noticed one of his partners, Graham Bailey, hadn’t arrived yet. The man was going through a pretty messy divorce and his days seemed to start later and later. Henry Satterfield, his other partner, would field patients until Graham arrived. Dylan had already requested time off to be with Will, so no one expected him to be there.

Dylan entered the building with Paige right behind him. Margaret Rogers, his efficient as always, salt-and-pepper-haired secretary in her early sixties sat at her desk fielding calls. She pointed to the young man sitting in the waiting room.

Two women with toddlers chatted in the children’s corner. A teenager slumped on the couch, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

Dylan nodded and turned to speak when Margaret hung up the phone with more force than needed. He looked back at her. “What is it?”

“Doctor Bailey won’t be in today. He’s sick.” She kept her expression clear, her voice in a monotone, but he could see the disgust in her eyes.

“Okay, let me take care of this, then I’ll … figure something out about Graham.” He made quick introductions. “Paige, Margaret Rogers and Kyle Barrett. Margaret and Kyle, this is Paige.”

Kyle nodded. The women greeted each other while Dylan walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Give me a minute, Kyle. The letter is sitting on my computer, I just need to print it off and sign it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Kyle sat and Dylan made his way down the hall to his office.

Twisting the doorknob, he stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt.

In shock, he took in the mess that had been his spotless office less than twenty-four hours earlier.

The gasp behind him made him turn to see Paige staring over his shoulder. Then she looked up at him and raised a brow. “You either need to fire your cleaning crew or call the police.”

Even after the sheriff arrived, Kyle hovered in the background, eyes wide like saucers. “Looks like the tornado sirens should have sounded.”

While Paige watched the officer take notes on the scene, Margaret clucked like a mother hen, muttering under her breath. Paige listened to Dylan give a statement and clamped her teeth on her tongue. Itching to be a part of the investigation, she told herself to cool it. That wasn’t going to happen.

But she couldn’t help sidling up next to Dylan and asking, “Who would do this?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. This is crazy.” He gestured to the uniformed man. “Paige, this is a good friend of mine, Sheriff Eli Brody.”

She nodded, then asked, “How did whoever did this get in?”

Eli shook his head. “We’re working on figuring that out.”

Margaret huffed. “Well, I’m usually the last to leave and I always set the alarm.”

Dylan smiled at her. “No one is questioning your competence.” He looked thoughtful and then shook his head.

Paige’s gaze went back to the office. The overturned chair, the dumped drawers. “It looks like someone was looking for something.”

“Sure does.”

Dylan shrugged. “But what? Drugs? Any junkie would know they’re not kept in an office.”

“The drug cabinet wasn’t touched as far as I can tell,” Margaret offered. “I just checked.”

Paige looked at Dylan. “Has anyone threatened you or Will?”

He blinked. “No. Why?”

Okay, that answered that question. “What about your prescription pads?”

Cocking his head, he looked at the sheriff. “Do you mind if I look?”

“I’ve already dusted the desk. Go ahead.”

Dylan walked behind the desk, inserted a small key into the top drawer and gave the handle a tug. Looking in, he shook his head. “Everything’s in order.”

The sheriff blew out a sigh. “All right.”

Paige’s eyes bounced back and forth between the men. Would no one say it? She bit her lip. Should she bring it up?

“You … uh … don’t suppose there’s a connection between the car trying to run Will down and this break-in, do you?”

Both men looked startled. “Why would you ask that?”

She gave a sheepish shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s just weird that both things happened so close to each other.”

Sheriff Brody looked thoughtful. His forehead wrinkled as he ran his hand through his thick dark hair. Intuitive green eyes examined his friend. “You got any enemies, Dylan?”

“No.” He gave a humorless laugh. “No way. I mean, who would do something so awful as to actually try to run Will down?” He looked sick. “That’s just … crazy.”

“Crazier things have been done,” Paige murmured.

He simply looked at her.

“Do you have any patients you’ve made mad recently?” the sheriff asked.

Dylan looked blindsided, she thought, even as she waited for his answer.

He gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t … know. Maybe.”

“Could be you were the intended target with that car. The person who almost ran down Will could have thought you were going to be crossing with him,” Paige said before she could bite her tongue.

Sheriff Brody crossed his arms across his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. “You have some law enforcement training?”

Paige gulped and chastised herself for making such a rookie mistake. She forced a laugh. “I watch a lot of television. Crime shows are my favorite.”

His eyebrows lowered and he glowered. She could read his thoughts. Great, another cop wannabe.

One day she’d tell him the truth. For now, she was going to shut up. Besides, her head was really starting to pound. Nausea swirled and she knew she needed to lie down. “Dylan, do you think you could take me home now?”

He started. “Sure.” Then looked at the sheriff. “Are you done with me?”

“Yeah.” The man waved a hand in dismissal. “Go on. I’ll let you know if we find anything here.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Holly at the doctor’s office in Bryson City. We’re having our first ultrasound.” He looked extraordinarily pleased to share that information.

Paige smiled through her pain. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He peered closer at Paige then said to Dylan, “She’s not looking so great. You better get some meds in her before she passes out.”

Dylan turned and stopped fast enough to cause Paige to bump into him. Pain exploded through her. As it eased, with her nose buried in his back, she couldn’t help noticing his yummy-smelling cologne. She backed up in a hurry and swallowed hard.

He turned and smiled down at her. “Sorry.” Then he motioned for the young man who’d come to collect his reference letter. “I’m sorry, I can’t access my computer right now. I have a copy of it on my home computer. Is it all right if we try again later?”

“Sure. You’ve got my cell number. Just give me a shout when you want me to come pick it up.”

Dylan and Paige made their way out to his car. She slid in, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and new-car smell. The sun beat down, warming the interior of the car to an uncomfortable temperature. She lowered her window and he flipped on the air-conditioning. “Sorry to pull you away,” she told him. “My head is really hurting.”

“No problem. I wasn’t doing anyone any good just standing around watching them work.” He shot her a worried look. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”

“No, it’s just a headache.” The nausea had faded.

Red flashing lights jerked her attention to the side mirror. A fire truck approached, sirens screaming. Dylan’s face paled, and his hands clenched the wheel so tight his knuckles went white. He pulled to the side and let the truck fly past. For a moment, he just sat there, not moving.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

He blinked. “Yeah.” His hoarse voice said otherwise. “Tell me how to find your house.”

She gave him the directions, then asked, “That fire truck really sparked some memories, didn’t it?”