Hideaway. Hannah Alexander

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Hideaway - Hannah  Alexander

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back. “I need to go check on Starface. She was limping this morning.”

      Dane nodded and watched him leave.

      As soon as the mudroom door closed, Willy said, “Blaze wouldn’t do anything like that, Dane.”

      “I know.”

      “Guess somebody started the fire, though. And somebody killed that lady’s cat.”

      Dane nodded. He hoped they caught the culprit quickly, because until the town had someone else to blame, his kids would take the brunt of it.

      “I’d like to see Barlow try to prove anything,” Cook muttered.

      Dane picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. “Maybe we should do a little sleuthing ourselves.”

      

      By the time Cheyenne finished reading the final page of Susan’s medical record her whole body trembled and she felt sick to her stomach. Leaning away from the call-room desk, she rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms over her head.

      “Hey, there, pal,” came a comforting voice from the corridor. Ardis hovered in the open doorway, looking fresh and well rested in her green scrubs. Her curly salt-and-pepper hair looked damp.

      “Hey.” Cheyenne gestured for her to come in. “Raining?”

      “Haven’t you heard the thunder? What’s up?” Ardis entered the untidy room and perched on the side of the unmade bed. “You should’ve been gone hours ago.”

      Cheyenne held up the legal request for medical records.

      Ardis tilted her head backward so she could read the print through her bifocals. Her lips moved silently, then her eyebrows lowered. “You’re kidding.”

      Cheyenne shook her head.

      “Your brother-in-law hired an attorney? He’s going to sue?”

      “Maybe they’re going after the people who hit Susan,” Cheyenne said. “I don’t know.”

      “When they read the report, they won’t come after you, that’s for sure. You did everything right. You did far more than most—”

      “What I did was prescribe a controlled substance for her. She wasn’t supposed to be driving.”

      “I’m the one who administered the drug, and I heard you tell her not to drive. You told her more than once, and so did I.”

      Cheyenne returned the request form to the desk. “But she was under the influence of a tranquilizer when we told her.”

      “She also received her discharge sheet, which she signed. It clearly stated that she was not to drive under the influence.”

      “Again,” Cheyenne said, “she signed that sheet after you administered the IV dose. And I didn’t document as completely as I ordinarily would have, because she was my sister. I had…other things on my mind.”

      “I don’t know what she was doing behind that wheel, but she—”

      “Ardis, you’re a Christian. Would you tell me how someone who claims to be a good servant of God could defraud the government and a spouse?”

      A soft whisper of air escaped Ardis’s lips as they parted. “What on earth are you talking about?”

      Okay, that had sounded pretty stupid. “I’m sorry.” Cheyenne closed the folder that held the medical records. “Forget I said anything.”

      “You’re talking about your brother-in-law?”

      It was tempting to spill what she knew—that Susan’s initial visit the day of her death had been because of Kirk.

      “Fraud, huh?” Ardis murmured.

      “It’s…probably not something we should even be discussing.”

      “Okay, you’re right. If the unthinkable does happen, and Kirk decides to slap a suit on you, then I could be forced to tell what I know on the witness stand. So don’t tell me anything.”

      “Fine.”

      “But let me tell you something.” Ardis leaned forward and touched Cheyenne’s hand. “Don’t let Kirk’s behavior affect your impression of Christ.”

      “I don’t have any impression of—”

      “People attend church for different reasons. Some are earnestly seeking God, even if they haven’t found Him yet. Others are making business contacts, improving social skills, looking for entertainment or warm fuzzies. Church attendance doesn’t necessarily make nicer people with high moral standards.”

      “Good sermon, Ardis.”

      “I haven’t even warmed up.”

      Cheyenne forced a smile.

      “I’m sorry.”

      “I’ve been relieved of duty.”

      There was an uncomfortable silence. Cheyenne turned in her chair and studied Ardis’s face. Obviously, this wasn’t news.

      “Medical leave isn’t the same thing,” Ardis said.

      Cheyenne straightened. “You knew about this?”

      “Kind of hard to miss the schedule change for two months. Dr. Brillhart explained it to me.”

      Cheyenne felt as if she’d been slapped. “Jim told you? Who else did he tell, the whole ER staff?”

      “Calm down, I think he just told me.”

      “You think? How do you—”

      “Would you relax for a minute?” Ardis reached into the pocket of her scrubs. “Jim had a reason to tell me. In the first place, he knew we were friends, but he also knew I had just the thing you need right now.” She pulled out a key on a plastic ring shaped like a daisy.

      “What’s that?”

      “I’ve told you about our place on Table Rock Lake, haven’t I?”

      “Barely.”

      “It’s a farm near the Missouri-Arkansas border. It’s on sixty-five acres, about a mile drive from this tiny town called Hideaway. Closer by boat. Isn’t that the perfect place to spend some downtime?”

      “On a farm? Tell me you’re kidding.”

      “Nope.” Ardis swung the key back and forth. “Just take it and listen to me, Chey. The place is in the middle of nowhere. It belonged to my husband’s aunt before she died. We were down there last year, but we haven’t had a chance to get back. It needs a woman’s touch, but I know you helped Susan some when she was starting her business.”

      “I know how to paint under supervision. That’s it.” But

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