a reassuring smile. “Maybe later I can help you clean it up. It’s not so bad. Right?”
Abby broke into a watery smile and chuckled. “Right. Not so bad.”
As the phone line began to ring, Blake swallowed hard. Abby was like no one he’d ever met—such an odd mixture of independence and vulnerability, of determination and quick wits. He was going to have to be on his guard about more than this person who was after them, because if there was one thing in his life he did not need or have time for, it was romance.
* * *
“Abby, I can’t believe you didn’t send Chief McClendon here to tell me what happened to you today.” Her big brother, Eli, paced his kitchen, pulling on his suspenders and shaking his head of thick blond hair as he walked.
“I was coming straight here.” She could hardly speak from exhaustion. She couldn’t stop shaking and her head throbbed terribly. “Blake was nice enough to swing by my house so that I could pick up some clothes and feed the animals, and that’s when we walked in on whoever that was. Anyway, there was no point in telling you sooner. What could you do? There’s nothing to do except try to get away from it all and wait for the police to catch the man responsible. And that’s why I’m here.”
Even though she still felt like a sitting duck. She’d thought being at her brother’s would make her feel safe, but instead, she now worried that she and Blake had just brought danger with them.
“I don’t know. There’s got to be something we can do,” Eli said. “Chief McClendon told you to lie low?”
“Not in those exact words.” Blake spoke from the corner of the kitchen. Abby blushed at the sound of his voice. She’d hardly been able to look at him after she’d fallen apart at the clinic. Practically jumping into his arms. She wished he’d dropped her off and gone straight back to the bed-and-breakfast. But once Hannah heard they’d had nothing to eat, she wouldn’t allow Blake to escape.
“Is McClendon still at your house?” Eli asked.
“I imagine so.” Blake’s brown eyes were soft again. Not hard and shocked like after the scene at the clinic. “There was an entire crew there, taking pictures and samples.”
“That’s good. Maybe they’ll lift some prints.” Eli continued to pace. He was making her dizzy.
“Relax, Eli.” Abby gave him a hard stare. “You’re not a detective anymore, remember?”
He ignored her. “Was anything missing from your house?”
“Nothing in the house—not that I noticed, anyway. But in the clinic. Most of my medicines were sabotaged. Opened. Slashed. Contaminated. And oddly they stole all my epi-packs.”
“Epi-packs?”
Blake cleared his throat. “They’re for people with severe allergies. Like an emergency kit. The EpiPen is a small dose of epinephrine, which prevents an allergy from sending someone into anaphylactic shock. They have saved a lot of parents trips to the hospitals and even saved lives. Epinephrine is the same drug that I believe was given to Abigail and to Mr. Hancock to send them into cardiac arrest.”
“So too much of a good drug can kill?” Eli asked.
“Exactly,” Blake said. “And epinephrine is not traceable like other drugs in the body because it is produced naturally.”
“What’s strange to me is that this person took the epi-packs after he killed Hancock. What was the point of that?” Abby said. “And the amount of epinephrine he dosed me with was way more than what is in an epi-pack. Clearly, he has access to the drug on his own, so why steal my packs?”
“He’s probably trying to scare you. Or throw off the investigation.” Eli stroked his short beard. “It takes everyone’s eyes off the hospital for a while. Maybe there is unfinished business there.”
“Like killing patients in dark hallways?” Abby said.
“We must get ahead of this guy instead of behind him. The first attempt when he drugged you was serious. He was feeling powerful. But the stairwell and the break-in seem more like scare tactics. He’s not as confident as he was and we should try to keep it that way.”
“How do we get ahead of this person? We don’t know who he is or where he is,” Abby said.
Eli looked up at her with a hopeful expression. “You can describe him, right?”
“Not really.” Abby shook her head. “He was wearing scrubs and a mask. I saw his eyes. That’s about it.”
“Well, the perpetrator could be anyone, not necessarily a doctor from the hospital. But if you have an idea of his size, his voice, skin color—with the computers the composite artists use now, you wouldn’t believe how well they can narrow down a suspect list.”
“Not tonight.” Abby held up her hand. She couldn’t take any more talk about the situation. Her brother meant well but he did not seem to understand what an ordeal she had been through.
Blake stepped forward. “I would have to agree. She needs rest.”
Her brother turned to Blake, then back to her. Abby hid a grin—another man having an opinion about her welfare had definitely thrown her brother off-kilter.
“Essa!” Hannah placed several plates in the center of the table and waved them all over. “Time to eat. Everyone to the table.”
Eli led them in a prayer of thanksgiving. Abby could have listened to his words all night. Eli was a true man of God—he knew where his strength came from. And what kind of man was Blake? At the amen, she glanced at him. Were those tears in his eyes? She watched him wipe them away quickly as he dug into his dinner. This was one man she did not understand—he seemed to change more than the weather and she’d only known him for one day.
“Wow. This is wonderful.” Blake had a faraway look in his eyes as he complimented her family on the house and the dinner.
“So, Blake...” Hannah started. “You’re a doctor at Fairview?”
“Yes. Well, temporarily.”
“And you’re from New York?”
“Yes.”
Eli slapped the table. “Didn’t you say the patient Hancock was from New York, too?”
Abby nodded with a smile. Her brother could barely contain himself. He was concerned for her, but he was also reliving his work as a Philadelphia police detective. It was not too long ago he’d come home on a case to help Hannah find the men that had killed her stepdaughter. In the end, he’d decided to stay and leave his Englischer life behind, but his years of training and experience as a detective were still a part of him. He let out a long sigh. “I really need to talk to McClendon.”
“Well, that’s not happening tonight,” Hannah said. “No calls in the house. Let’s just have a nice, relaxing dinner and worry about all of that tomorrow.”
Blake’s phone sounded almost simultaneously with Hannah’s reminder of the no-cell-phones rule. Blake grabbed his phone from his pocket and silenced it. “Sorry. I’ll just turn
