Fatal Exposure

chapter 16



Exhausted, Brynn slumped in a padded armchair inside Parker’s room at the Shock Trauma Center in Baltimore the following afternoon. She could hardly keep her eyes open after the grueling night she’d had. After her rescue, she’d spent hours giving statements to both the Washington County and Baltimore police, relating her story about Hoffman and his history of abuse. She’d also relayed Parker’s suspicions about Delgado, who seemed to have disappeared. Thankfully, the police had believed her. Lieutenant Lewis had agreed to bring Delgado in for questioning, assuming they could find him first.

Brynn stifled a yawn, the movement causing her injured shoulder to throb inside its sling. She’d escaped their ordeal without major injuries. Aside from gashing her scalp, she’d partially torn the tendons and inflamed the bursa around her rotator cuff—thus the sling. After a few weeks of painkillers, anti-inflammatory medication and rest, her shoulder would heal just fine.

Too bad she couldn’t say the same about her heart.

Sighing, she gazed at Parker as he slept in the hospital bed. His thick black hair was mussed, his unshaven jaw coated with stubble, his eyelashes dark against his too-pale skin. He had an IV taped to one arm, his shoulder heavily bandaged where he’d been shot. His breath rasped in the quiet air.

Both Parker and Hoffman had been flown to Baltimore during the night. They’d both undergone surgery, and both were expected to survive. Hoffman was down the hall, under arrest in a guarded room, while Parker recovered in his.

She picked up his heavy hand, taking in the warmth of his skin, the rough calluses on his palms, the sinews and tendons standing out on his muscled arms. Her gaze traveled from the stark white bandages on his shoulder to the alluring hollow at the base of his throat, and her heart made a sudden lurch. How he could manage to look sexy in a hospital gown, she didn’t know. But instead of appearing weak and vulnerable, he looked even more virile, like everything she’d ever wanted in a man.

If only he hadn’t lied.

Her emotions suddenly chaotic, she placed his hand on the starched white sheet. Then she leaned back in her seat and gazed at his face, lingering on his slashing black brows, his sensual mouth, his rough-hewn features now slack with sleep. He’d lied, all right—a detail she’d avoided thinking about until now. But she couldn’t put it off anymore.

A heavyset nurse in blue-flowered scrubs entered the room just then, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. Brynn exhaled at the timely reprieve.

“Good afternoon,” the nurse said with a pleasant smile. “How’s our patient?”

“Still asleep.”

Making a noncommittal sound, she set her laptop on a high, roller-wheeled table and plugged it in. Then she frowned at Parker’s chart.

Brynn waited for several heartbeats, her anxiety mounting when the nurse didn’t say anything. She studied the crease puckering the nurse’s brow, the way she worried her plump bottom lip with her upper teeth. Her chubby fingers tapped on the keyboard, the soft clicks adding to Brynn’s strained nerves.

“Is everything all right?” she finally asked, unable to bear the suspense.

The nurse tore her gaze from the computer, and her eyes crinkled into a smile. “He’s fine. You don’t need to worry about him. He’s young and strong. He’s going to recover in no time.”

Brynn inched out her pent-up breath. “How long will he be in the hospital?”

“You’ll have to ask the doctor, but probably a week. He’ll have to wear a sling for a couple of months after that. And he’ll need physical therapy down the road. But barring complications, he’ll be just fine.”

Brynn leaned back in her chair, relieved. No matter how complicated their relationship, she couldn’t stand the thought of him suffering—or worse.

The nurse checked his vital signs and changed the bag on his IV. Then she picked up her laptop and turned to go. “There’s coffee at the nurses’ station if you’d like some,” she offered with another smile.

Brynn thanked her, and she left the room, her shoes squeaking as she retreated down the hall. Alone now, Brynn turned her gaze to the monitors beside the bed. Numbers flashed across one screen. Lines zigzagged across another, recording Parker’s heartbeat, rhythmic and steady and strong. And she realized the time had come. She couldn’t avoid the topic she’d danced around for hours—Parker’s deception—no matter how much it hurt. She had to confront the truth.

Parker had been working for Hoffman. Hoffman had asked him to bring her in. She didn’t want to believe it. Even now, the betrayal flayed her, slashing through the illusions she’d built about this man.

But the reality was that he’d deceived her. Badly. Maybe he hadn’t lied outright, but neither had he revealed the truth. He’d told her about his father’s corruption. He’d confessed his feelings of failure and the pain he’d suffered at Tommy’s death. And he’d made love to her, touching her in ways no one else ever had.

But he’d concealed the one thing that really mattered, his relationship to her stepfather, even after she’d told him about the abuse.

No, he’d done worse than that. He’d intentionally misled her. He’d known she was Hoffman’s stepdaughter from the start. She’d ignored the signs, but now that she thought back, she didn’t have any doubt. He’d kept their connection secret, despite multiple opportunities to reveal the truth.

Closing her eyes, she massaged the ache between her brows. In some ways, she didn’t blame him. Hoffman put on a convincing act. He’d fooled Brynn’s mother. He’d fooled her elementary school teachers and the various social workers who’d filed through her life. He’d even fooled the people he worked with, impressing Senator Riggs so much that the senator was backing his political career. And Parker respected authority. He believed in following the rules. Of course he’d trust his boss.

She opened her eyes and gazed at Parker, a tumult of emotions crowding her throat. She couldn’t forget that he’d saved her life. He’d battled the gang members in that drive-by shooting. He’d saved her from the police. And now he’d taken a bullet for her, nearly dying on her behalf.

Even more disturbed now, she rose and went into the hall. A grim-faced doctor hurried past. People crowded around the nurses’ station down the hall. A voice came over the PA system, calling for a doctor stat.

Hoping a walk would clear her mind, she headed in the opposite direction to the bank of elevators, then waited for one to arrive. A woman and her young daughter joined her, reminding her of the traumatized girl.

Brynn had last seen the girl at the Washington County hospital. Her horrified family had met her there, sticking close beside her even when the doctors wheeled her away for tests. She had a long road of recovery ahead, years of nightmares and distrust to overcome—a journey Brynn knew well. But she seemed strong. With her family’s support, she might make it through.

A soft ding announced the elevator’s arrival. Brynn stepped inside, then leaned against the handrail as it traveled to the bottom floor. She watched the floor numbers decrease, her mind returning to Parker McCall. She wanted to trust him. He’d saved her life. He’d risked everything to help her, putting himself on the line. Except for that one glaring omission, he’d acted honorably at every step. Should she forgive him? Could she forgive a lie of that magnitude?

Not able to come up with an answer, she exited the elevator on the first floor. Following the signs to the Courtyard Café, she walked down a hallway, past a pizza place and sandwich shop to a bright, airy room bustling with people and noise. Various scents filled the air—coffee, French fries, pizza—and her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember her last meal.

Deciding she needed an infusion of caffeine more urgently than she needed food, she ordered a large coffee from the nearest stall. Working one-handed, she loaded it with sweetener and cream, then downed several much-needed gulps. Already feeling better, she turned and scanned the room, searching for a quiet corner where she could think.

Her gaze landed on a woman sitting by the window, her face angled toward the street outside, and everything inside her froze. Her mother. The woman who’d refused to believe her. The woman who’d failed to protect her. The woman who’d turned her back on her, ignoring her desperate cries for help, leaving her at the mercy of a brutal man.

She’d come to visit her husband at the hospital, no doubt.

Brynn couldn’t move. She stood locked in place, anger erupting inside her, decades of bottled resentment threatening to explode. But the change in her mother’s appearance penetrated her fury, giving her pause. She’d put on weight since Brynn had seen her last. Her face was sallow and lined. Her hair was lanky and gray. She wore sloppy knit pants and a rumpled sweatshirt, her once-meticulous appearance now so slovenly that Brynn wondered if she’d been ill.

Did it matter? Did she care about her mother after all she’d put her through? Why should she? Her mother had enabled Hoffman’s abuse.

But surely her mother realized the truth about him now. Even she couldn’t deny the proof they’d recovered from that cabin—the photos, the necklaces, the videos in which he’d starred. Maybe she was sorry. Maybe she’d want to repair the past. Maybe she’d want to apologize for having been so blind.

Her mother lumbered to her feet. She threw her trash in a nearby receptacle, then headed down the corridor toward the exit sign.

Making a quick decision, Brynn took several more swallows of coffee, then dumped her cup in the trash. Keeping one eye on her mother, she dodged the people crowding the food court and hurried to catch up.

She reached her a minute later. “Mom, wait!” she called.

Her mother came to a stop. She turned, causing people to swerve around them, her gaze connecting with Brynn’s. Her face paled. Her eyes turned tortured, filled with something that looked a lot like remorse. “Brynn...”

Brynn didn’t trust herself to answer. Her belly churning, she stood in the busy corridor, facing the woman who’d had the power to save her—and failed.

“It...it’s true, then?” her mother asked.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Her mouth twisted. Pain racked her bloated face, her expression turning even more stricken now. “I thought I knew him. That he was a good, generous man. I couldn’t imagine him doing those despicable things to you. I didn’t think he would ever hurt a child.”

“I tried to tell you. You didn’t believe me.”

“I thought... He was so good with kids. So generous. I didn’t know.”

“You should have. You should have believed me instead of him.”

“But you liked him at first. It wasn’t until later, after we were married...”

“When he started abusing me.”

Her mother blanched. And Brynn took a long, hard look at the woman who’d raised her, knowing her world was crumpling apart. She’d based her life on a lie.

Brynn turned away. Then she headed down the corridor, past the pizza store, past a gift shop, hardly caring where she went. Her mother now knew the truth. She had to face the reality of her actions and suffer the guilt. She’d enabled an evil man to prey on defenseless kids.

Her own feelings in turmoil, Brynn wove her way through the crowd. Should she forgive her mother? Did she even want to see her again? Everything inside her rebelled against the thought. The pain was too deep, the betrayal too horrific, the shock of seeing her again too fresh. Maybe someday...or maybe not. Right now she didn’t know.

And what about Parker? Should she forgive his deceit? She had every right to be mad at him. He’d lied to her about her stepfather—a betrayal that truly hurt.

But people made mistakes. He’d had good cause to suspect her at first. And she knew deep down she could trust him. He’d proven it time and again.

Yet did she want to forgive him? She resumed walking, that thought disquieting her even more. Because frankly, she felt safer holding on to her anger, that righteous indignation that had sustained her for all these years. It felt familiar, secure. If she let it go, if she stopped thinking of herself as a victim and forgave Parker, she lost the barrier protecting her heart.

And that made her vulnerable, the feeling she dreaded most. Because once she dropped that emotional shield, Parker would see the woman inside—with all her flaws. And he might not like who he found.

She reached the elevators and pushed the button, her thoughts swirling from Parker and her mother to the accusation Haley had hurled at her. But as much as it wounded her pride to admit it, her friend was right. She was hiding behind her work. Her photos weren’t only about the runaways; they were about her. They’d always been about her—her fear, her vulnerability, her shame. Not that what she did wasn’t important; she thoroughly believed in her cause. But she’d hidden behind those photos, taking refuge in her anonymity, afraid to need, afraid to trust, afraid to subject herself to betrayal again.

The elevator arrived. She stepped inside, then watched the numbers flash as it climbed to Parker’s floor. So now she had to decide—to cling to the anger or stop blaming Parker and make herself vulnerable by taking a risk on love.

The elevator bounced to a stop. The doors slid open, and she headed to Parker’s hall. She rounded the corner, the sudden commotion bringing her to a standstill. Police officers swarmed the corridor. Doctors ran past, barking orders and talking on phones. Nurses huddled in groups in doorways and near their stations, their eyes startled, their hands covering their mouths. The PA blared overhead.

“Watch out!” a doctor said, knocking into her as he hurried past.

Clutching her sling, Brynn flattened herself to the wall, still trying to process the hectic scene. What on earth was going on? Has something happened to Parker? Fear jolting through her, she started toward his room to find out.

“Get out of the way,” someone shouted behind her. “Let the police by.”

She ducked into a doorway to let them pass. Then, eyeing an opening, she darted across the hall to a group of nurses clustered behind their desk.

“What happened?” she asked.

One of the nurses turned her way. “You can’t be here. You need to leave.”

“But what happened?”

“A man died. One of the cops they just brought in.”

Brynn’s belly flipped. A dizzy feeling roared through her head. Not Parker. Please, not Parker. Her knees threatening to buckle, she struggled to breathe. “Which one?”

“The older one, the guy they had under arrest. Now you need to go.”

Brynn staggered to the nearest wall, the relief sweeping through her nearly causing her to collapse. Trembling badly, she closed her eyes, knowing she should probably feel pity or compassion—or even guilt since she’d inflicted the wound that had caused her stepfather’s death. But she couldn’t summon any regret. Hoffman’s death was a blessing. The world was rid of a dangerous predator. He’d never harm an innocent child again.

She opened her eyes, but the urgency swirling around her still didn’t make any sense. Nurses were huddling behind their stations. Police were racing down the hallway, going in and out of rooms. Why this sudden commotion? Why the urgency? As unfortunate as it was, people died in hospitals all the time.

Just then an officer ran up, his expression grim. “You need to leave, ma’am. We’re clearing the hall.”

“Why?”

“This is a crime scene. Several men have been murdered. And the killer’s still on the loose.”

Several men? And they’d been murdered? Shock rendered her speechless. Hoffman hadn’t died from his injuries. Someone had come here and killed him? But who...

Delgado. The man who’d killed Parker’s brother. The man who’d executed that prisoner in the warehouse. The man who’d sent the gang leader after her. He’d finished off Hoffman—and apparently, his guards. Now he was going to kill Parker, too.

And Brynn had left him alone.

“Find Lieutenant Lewis,” she told the officer. “She’s in charge of this case. She knows all the details. Tell her it’s urgent, that Delgado is here.”

Praying that he’d listen, she took off for Parker’s room at a run.