new diseases and researched treatment protocols.”
“Then you moved here after his death to carry on his legacy?”
“No.” Confusion washed over her face. “I came because I wanted to make a contribution.”
From the noticeable way she braced her shoulders and raised her head, Zach wondered if there was more to her statement than she cared to admit. Had the doctor been living in her husband’s shadow?
“What was the cause of your husband’s death, ma’am?”
She bristled. “I don’t see how that has bearing on what happened here tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am, but it’s my job to put the pieces together. Your husband’s death could play a role in the investigation.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Zach raised his brow and waited. Dr. Jacobsen had to realize that police questions needed to be answered.
“My husband’s cause of death is still under investigation,” she finally admitted.
“Could you provide a few more details?”
“Quin attended a medical research conference in Memphis, Tennessee. He left the hotel Saturday afternoon before the end of the event. His luggage was in the rental car found on the edge of a bridge that spans the Mississippi River.”
Her face twisted as if the story was hard to tell.
“Fishermen found his body washed up on the banks of the river some days later.”
“Was foul play suspected?”
She swallowed. “The police ruled his death self-inflicted.”
Suicide, but she failed to use the term. “Did you question their finding?” Zach asked.
“Of course. Anything could have happened. He could have fallen or been pushed.”
“You suspected foul play?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I suspected. Quin was a perfectionist. He held himself to a high standard. Succumbing to the sense of unworthiness that predisposes someone to take their own life hardly seemed in keeping with Quin’s nature.”
“Did you explain your concerns to the police?”
“They weren’t interested in my opinions.”
A negative undercurrent was evident from her tone of voice. Zach doubted the good doctor had much regard for law enforcement, present company included, he felt sure.
“What about tonight’s assailant. Did you see anything that might identify the intruder?”
She raked her hand through her curly hair and shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
When Zach failed to comment, she leaned closer. “I passed out. Not long. A matter of seconds at the most, yet my recall is foggy at best.”
Opening her hands, she shrugged. “The truth is I can’t remember anything that happened shortly before or after I blacked out.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember, ma’am?”
“I was outside, trying to make the generator work. A scream came from the clinic. I hurried inside to make sure Mary Kate and the girls were all right.”
“What did you find?”
Her eyes narrowed. “A man shadowed in darkness stood over my desk.”
“Go on,” Zach encouraged her.
She shook her head. “That’s all I can recall.”
The side door opened and Sergeant Abrams and Officer Taylor stepped back into the clinic. After saying something to the younger cop, Abrams approached the doctor. “Ma’am, the EMTs mentioned your need to be checked at the hospital. I can have one of my men drive you there in the next twenty to thirty minutes.”
“That’s not necessary. All I really need are a couple of ibuprofen and a few hours of sleep.”
“If the Freemont police are tied up, I’d be happy to drive you to the hospital,” Zach volunteered. “You’ve been through a lot and are probably running on adrenaline right now.”
“Really, I’m fine,” she insisted.
The sergeant leaned closer. “Ma’am, you owe it to your patients to be checked out. The sooner you get feeling better, the sooner you’ll be able to see to their needs.”
The man seemed to have struck the right chord.
“Perhaps you’re right.” She glanced at Zach. “You wouldn’t mind driving me?”
“Not a problem, ma’am.”
She looked down at her soiled hands and blouse. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash my hands and change into clean clothes.”
“Of course.”
Abrams motioned a female cop forward. “Officer Grant will accompany you into your private residence, ma’am.”
“But it adjoins my clinic,” the doc objected. “I just need to go down the hall. The door connects to the kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The sergeant nodded. “But having someone with you is a safety precaution until you’ve been checked out at the hospital.”
As if too tired to argue, Dr. Jacobsen rose and followed the female officer into the hallway.
Once the women had left the room, Zach turned to the sergeant. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you don’t trust the doc.”
Abrams offered him a tired smile. “I’m being cautious. Dr. Jacobsen seems to be a woman of merit, but I’ve seen too many criminals over the years who look like Miss America and apple pie. I don’t want to be hoodwinked by a physician in a rural clinic who’s up to no good.”
Zach hadn’t suspected the doctor of wrongdoing. Quite the opposite. He wouldn’t admit his feelings to the sergeant, but something about her tugged at his heart. Maybe it was the confusion he read in her gaze, or her vulnerability. Whatever the reason, he needed to focus on the case at hand. He also needed to remind himself of what he’d learned long ago.
Ever since his mother’s traumatic death, Zach didn’t trust doctors. He never had and never would.
Ella stepped into the hallway and paused. Her head ached, and the muscles in her back and legs were strained. Although she’d survived the attack, her insides were still trembling. After Quin’s death, she had moved to Georgia, looking for a better life. Now an intruder had robbed her of her peace and sense of security.
She
