Under Suspicion. Hannah Alexander

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      “Geoff, don’t make this a public spectacle.”

      “You know I’ll do my best to keep any interviews tasteful and gentle.”

      She caught her tongue between her teeth. She wasn’t up to this. “Look, I’m barely functioning. You either come to the hospital as a concerned family member, or stay away.”

      “Someone will show up anyway. Wouldn’t you rather it be me?”

      “Why would I?”

      “Because I’ll keep everything off the record that you want off the record, and I won’t misquote you. I wouldn’t be doing this, but Wendy’s pulling rank.”

      “If you come to the hospital as a reporter, you’ll be treated as a reporter. You’re not taking advantage of your connection to me in order to build ratings for Wendy Phillips.”

      “That isn’t the reason I’m coming.”

      “Then leave your job at the door, just as you asked me to do, Geoffrey Tremaine.”

      “Shona, I want to be there for you. At the same time, I don’t want someone else approaching you from my station. Reports will be made, one way or the other. I want to give a fair one, for your sake, and for Kemper’s.”

      She knew his argument made sense. “Off the record, I don’t know if Dad’s even going to make it to the hospital,” she said. Brake lights flashed ahead. She barely saw them in time to stop. Her tires squealed. Why weren’t they taking her father to the closest hospital? St. Mary’s was excellent.

      “I’ll call Karah Lee for you,” Geoff said.

      “No,” she snapped. “Stay out of this.”

      “You shouldn’t be alone, and your sister deserves to know what’s happening.”

      “Why?” Karah Lee had chosen to distance herself from their father from the moment of Mom and Dad’s divorce. Not only had she refused financial assistance from Dad for college, but she had also, in a fit of rebellion that had broken Dad’s heart, taken her mother’s maiden name. She barely knew Dad’s second wife, Irene. To be fair, neither did Shona. The woman had taken little interest in her stepdaughters. And now, Dad and Irene were separated. Shona had no intention of calling her, either.

      “This isn’t your affair anymore, Geoff,” Shona said.

      “I’m still family. I’ll see you at the hospital in a few minutes,” he said gently. “Meanwhile, I’ll call Karah Lee.”

      “Geoff, I don’t—”

      He disconnected. She started to toss her cell phone on the seat beside her. Instead, she dialed 911 again.

      “Yes, this is Shona Tremaine. I’m currently following the ambulance unit 948 to Bradley-Cline Hospital. I need you to contact that ambulance via private line and redirect them to St. Mary’s. That’s where I want my father taken. It’s closer. Also would you redirect the police to St. Mary’s, on a private line, as well? I don’t want anyone else to know my father’s location.” Not Geoff. Not Karah Lee. Not Irene.

      After the dispatcher agreed to do as she asked—sometimes political power had its perks—Shona expressed her thanks, disconnected and tossed the phone onto the seat, focusing on the lights ahead.

      Geoff Tremaine could cool his heels at the fancy new hospital. Meanwhile, Dad would have the best of care at a place she trusted. She should have insisted on St. Mary’s from the beginning.

      THREE

      Karah Lee Fletcher sat in front of the picture window in her lakeside cottage on the edge of Hideaway. She tried hard not to be distracted by the magnificent purples and deep indigoes of the evening sky at late sunset. There was work to be done.

      This evening, it was her job to look fascinated by the display of material samples spread out before her on the coffee table. Bored already, she tapped her foot in time with the music her foster daughter had playing on the CD.

      “I’m not wearing pink.” Fawn held up a swatch of hot pink satin. “Unless it’s this.”

      Karah Lee tore her gaze from the window scene and studied the brilliant, shimmery material. “Looks good to me.”

      Fawn rolled her eyes. “Do you realize how badly this color would clash with that red hair of yours?”

      “So? You’d be the one wearing it, not me.”

      “But you’ll be the bride. Everything should focus on you on your wedding day. You’re one of those people who should never be allowed out on the street before they check in with the fashion police.”

      “And you, of course, would be my own personal fashion police, I suppose.”

      “Well, sure, you can do that now, but what are you going to do when I’m in college this fall?” Fawn combed her fingers through her short blond hair, eyeing Karah Lee with a devious grin.

      “I guess I’ll just have to live in my scrubs. You’ll be home in the evenings, so you can prevent disaster.”

      “Only if you can get me a car before I start school. I can’t exactly walk there from here.”

      “You can use my car or ride with Blaze.” Since Karah Lee merely had to walk across the street and up two blocks for work and groceries, she seldom needed to drive these days.

      Fawn grumbled, but she did so with good nature. By the time she started college, Karah Lee and Taylor would be married. Fawn had made it clear that the wedding was going to be her priority from now until the final vows were spoken. Thanks to Fawn, heaven and everyone in Hideaway knew Karah Lee wasn’t capable of planning and executing a wedding of the caliber everyone expected without a great deal of help from friends.

      Karah Lee was not a style maven, nor did she wish to become one at this stage of her life. At thirty-four, she was set in her ways and happy with that.

      Fawn’s entry into her life still filled her with awe and gratitude. As a sixteen-year-old runaway last year, Fawn had witnessed a murder in Branson—one of the last places on earth one would expect a murder. When she had arrived here in Hideaway—a stow-away on a tour bus filled with senior citizens—she’d been sick, in the middle of a miscarriage.

      Karah Lee had become her guardian with a great deal of trepidation, after discovering that the teenager’s home life was unbearable. Her mother didn’t want her back.

      What a blessing Fawn Morrison had been in Karah Lee’s life since then.

      The telephone rang before Fawn could launch into a long-winded explanation about why she needed her own car, and her plan about how to pay for it while working at the school for her tuition.

      Karah Lee answered quickly. “This is Dr. Fletcher.”

      “Karah Lee?” came a familiar male voice. It was her brother-in-law.

      “Geoff?”

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