Christmas Conspiracy. Susan Sleeman

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СКАЧАТЬ She blinked until she could focus on a large man wearing a black uniform now looking down on her.

      “Ms. Long,” he said softly, his face so familiar—but she was sure she didn’t know him. “Can you hear me?”

      “Yes,” she replied.

      “I’m Deputy Sergeant Jake Marsh. I was one of the deputies who found you unconscious in the baby room.”

      Ah, so that was who he was. She remembered him now. His kindness in the ambulance. Holding precious Kelly’s carrier for the ride, safe and secure in his hands. He’d said a neighbor noticed the masked man enter the playground and called 911. He arrived to help and had chased off the kidnapper.

      “Deputy,” she said. “Yes. I remember you.”

      “Call me Jake.”

      “I’m Rachael.”

      “It’s nice to see you’re awake, Rachael.” A dazzling smile broke across his face.

      A little zip of awareness shot through her stomach, catching her off guard. She’d been only vaguely aware of him this far, as she hadn’t been fully awake when he’d ridden along in the ambulance. Then after the medics rushed her into the ER, the staff forced him to wait outside her door, and she hadn’t seen him since then.

      He was a fine-looking man. Six foot two, maybe, muscled and brawny. Chocolate-brown eyes. Olive skin. Ebony hair. Yeah, he was a striking man, but why was she noticing? She’d been immune to men’s charms after she married Eli. Especially immune after he died in the car accident that was all her fault, so where was the reaction to this guy coming from all of a sudden?

      She was probably confusing this interest in him with gratitude for his rescue and protection. After all, he’d saved her life. Or maybe the drugs had caused her to let down her guard. Either way, she wouldn’t waste time analyzing it when she doubted she’d ever see him again.

      “Thank you for your help,” she said.

      He gave a clipped nod. “It was a team effort, and we were just doing our jobs.”

      His job. A dangerous and difficult job, she suspected. One she could never do, at least not if she hoped to sleep at night.

      Scenes of the attempted kidnapping flooded her brain. Her fear. Her anger. Little Kelly, vulnerable. Everything came to her except details of the intruder’s face. That she couldn’t seem to call up from her memory. In the times she’d been awake, she’d tried to recall what he looked like, but only fuzzy images came to mind.

      The doctor had told her that the police found an empty vial of ketamine on the floor at the center. Doctors and veterinarians used the drug for conscious sedation. He said as the drug left her system, she might remember the kidnapper in more detail, but the levels of drug in her blood meant she wouldn’t likely recall much of anything after the ketamine had taken hold.

      She might not remember the kidnapper’s face, but she would never forget Kelly sleeping peacefully in her crib, danger lurking all around her.

      “Is Kelly really okay?” She managed to get the words out through a mouth that felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

      Jake smiled. “She’s fine. She’s with her mother.”

      A woman stepped around the deputy and displayed a wallet that held a shiny badge. “I’m Detective Skyler Hunter. I’ll be handling this investigation, and if you’re up to it, I have a few questions for you.”

      Rachael ran her gaze over the woman. She looked like she was an inch or so taller than Rachael, had red hair and wore khaki pants and a blue blazer. The lapel held a Christmas button that said Jesus Is the Reason for the Season.

      Never having been questioned by the police, apprehension settled in Rachael’s stomach, but the concern in the detective’s expression seemed sincere and gave Rachael hope that the questioning wouldn’t be too bad.

      “You’re the one who’ll catch this terrible man, then?” Rachael asked.

      “I’ll do my very best, yes.”

      Rachael eased herself up on her pillows until she reached a sitting position. The room swam, but she battled the dizziness and focused on the detective again. “Not to be rude, but how good is your best?”

      “That’s not rude at all. In fact, I get asked that question all the time.” She sounded pleasant enough, but Rachael heard frustration in her voice. “I’ve been a deputy for twelve years and a detective for the last seven of them. My case closure rate is the highest on our team.”

      “I’m confused,” Rachael said. “Are you a detective or a deputy?”

      “Both, actually. All sworn staff except the sheriff himself are deputies, no matter the rank or position attained in the agency. So, for example, Jake is a sergeant in charge of the First Response Squad, but he’s still a deputy.”

      “First Response Squad. That’s the team who came to my rescue.”

      Jake nodded. “We’re a team of six and are dispatched on emergency callouts, especially those with a potential hostage situation.”

      “Please thank the others on the team for me,” she said.

      He nodded. “Detective Hunter serves as a negotiator on the team, but she is a well-qualified detective, too.”

      For some reason Rachael trusted his opinion. “Okay, good. Then let’s get those questions out of the way. I want to visit Pam and Kelly, and I need to talk to my staff at the center and call all of my parents.”

      “Slow down there.” The detective held up her hands. “Ms. Baldwin is off limits until I take her statement, and we can’t allow you to talk to her.”

      Rachael met her gaze. “Why in the world not?”

      “When people involved in incidents compare stories, they often alter their own stories to match.”

      “I wouldn’t do that.”

      “It’s not a conscious thing,” Jake offered. “But it happens.”

      “Okay, fine. I’ll wait to talk to Pam, but I can still get my records from the center to call the parents and my staff.”

      “In this age of technology, I’m surprised you don’t keep that information on your phone,” Jake said.

      “Some directors may, but I don’t. I care for a hundred and twenty children, and I won’t risk having my phone stolen and the contact information for these families falling into the wrong hands. Besides that, for tax purposes, I keep my business and work activities separate whenever possible. I do keep the contact information on an iPad that I take home every day and use for center business only. Since I came by ambulance from the center, my iPad is still in my office.”

      “I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to go to the center,” the detective said. “It’s a crime scene. Only official personnel are allowed inside, and it will remain closed during the initial investigation.”

      “Closed?” Rachael asked. “For how long?”

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