rang a familiar chord in Adam. Dark eyes in a pretty face rose to the forefront of his mind. He and Ace had been in on the interview with Lana regarding her older sister, Rosa Gomez’s death last month.
Lana’s reaction, or rather lack of reaction, to the news of her sister’s untimely demise had been strange. She’d seemed anxious, not grief-stricken like he would have expected for a woman whose sister had just died and left a child behind. She’d asked the right questions, took notes on little Juan’s care but there had been something off about her. It bothered him enough that he’d checked on Lana’s alibi for the time of her sister’s death. It was solid.
He’d been surprised to learn Lana had not known of her nephew’s existence. However, she had said she’d contact a lawyer about petitioning for custody though she hadn’t appeared enthused by the idea. Last he knew two-year-old Juan still lived in the group foster home that was funded by Congressmen Jeffries and run by Adam’s captain’s fiancée, Cassie Danvers.
“You want me at the hospital?” He and Ace reached the white-and-blue Blazer with Capitol K-9 emblazoned across the sides.
Using the remote access in his pocket, Adam unlocked the kennel door that had been installed specially for the canine. The door popped open and Adam pointed; the dog jumped in and lay down, his ears up, his eyes watchful. Ace knew they were on a case.
They’d been partnered for three years now, ever since Adam signed on to the Capitol K-9 Unit after leaving the FBI.
The transition from agent to K-9 officer had a definite learning curve, but after completing the patrol dog training, he and Ace had developed a symbiosis that had Joe, Adam’s brother, convinced the dog could read Adam’s mind and vice versa. Maybe it was true. After living alone for most of his adult life, he certainly enjoyed having the canine as a roommate.
“Yes. I want you to interview Miss Gomez.” The timbre of Gavin’s voice dropped to a dark note. “If she awakens.”
* * *
Lana hated hospitals. The antiseptic smells, the sounds of beeping coming from the monitors showing her vitals, and the claustrophobic way the white, sterile walls closed in on her. The only bright spot was the window allowing morning sunlight to stream in despite the spring rain tapping at the glass.
A nurse—her name tag read Cindy—adjusted the IV fluids flowing through a tube attached to Lana’s arm. Lana pressed the buttons to automatically raise the back of the bed to a more upright position. “How much longer do I have to stay here?”
When she’d awakened after being admitted to the ER, she’d been told they were keeping her for observation because she’d lost consciousness. The doctor had her moved to a private room and told her to rest. She had and now she just wanted to go home.
The blonde gave her a kind smile. “The doctor will be in shortly. You took a nasty hit on the head.”
She didn’t need to be told. Her head throbbed where that awful man had used the beautiful arrow to knock her unconscious. She fingered the bandages covering her skull near her left temple. Her heart ached knowing she hadn’t been able to protect the arrow. The loss was too much to bear.
“Can I get you anything?” Cindy asked.
Lana heaved a sigh. Even to her own ears she sounded pitiful. “No, thank you, though.”
“All right. There’s the button if you need anything.”
Cindy walked out, leaving Lana to stare at the boring walls and stuccoed ceiling. A black television set mounted high on the wall showed a blank screen. She didn’t feel like watching the TV when her world was spinning out of her control. A white board with her name, the doctor’s name and a list of the medications she’d been given was fixed to the back of the bathroom door. Her life had been reduced to markings on a to-do list.
She gripped handfuls of the blanket. A deep-seated sense of loneliness settled over her like a shroud. She was alone in the world. There was no one to care that she was here. No one to visit her. All she had was her career. And now that she’d allowed the arrow to be stolen, no doubt her livelihood would be taken away, as well.
When her boss found out, he’d fire her. She hoped he didn’t cut his vacation short, but knowing Mr. Floyd he would. He’d had reservations about leaving her in charge to begin with, and now...well, she wouldn’t blame him for letting her go.
Dejection spread through her chest, making her heart heavy.
There was no way the courts would give her custody of her nephew, Juan, if she didn’t have a job.
Her head drooped to the side. A tear slid from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. She hated feeling so pathetic. It had to be the painkillers. She normally wasn’t one to indulge in self-pity.
A sharp rap on the door brought her chin up. She hoped it was the doctor with discharge papers. “Come in.”
The door swung open. A large, black, intimidating-looking dog appeared, his claws tapping against the linoleum floor as he made a beeline for her bed.
And beside the animal came Officer Adam Donovan, dressed in his dark uniform and looking handsome despite the dampness clinging to his short-cropped, strawberry-blond hair.
Lana’s mouth went dry. The doctor had told her the police wanted to talk to her but he’d insisted they had to wait until morning. Why did it have to be this officer, with his icy blue eyes and thousand-mile stare?
Adam had been one of the elite K-9 unit officers present when Lana had talked to the director of the foster care where her nephew, Juan, had been taken after her sister, Rosa’s, death.
Hearing the devastating news of Rosa’s death and learning Rosa had a son—a child Lana had known nothing about—had frozen another portion of Lana’s heart. A familiar feeling, one she’d been living with since the day she’d heard of her parents’ horrific deaths five years earlier.
Adam had studied her as if he was trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together and didn’t like the picture emerging.
She mentally shrugged. Everyone dealt with sorrow differently. Her way was to contain everything inside. Not the healthiest way, but the only way she knew how to cope with the loss and tragedies and traumas that plagued her life.
“Officer Donovan.” The reedy wariness in her voice echoed inside her head, making her self-conscious of the fact she was in a vulnerable position with no ready means of escape. She smoothed her hands on the blanket as if somehow the motion would smooth her frayed nerves.
“Miss Gomez, I was glad to hear you’re recovering well.”
She doubted he’d felt much of anything regarding her health. He wanted information on the arrow. That was the only thing of importance. “I survived.”
“Yes, you did.” He stepped closer. The light coming through the window reflected in his blue eyes and made them appear almost translucent. “I have some questions regarding the break-in at the museum last night.”
“I hope I have answers.” Though she couldn’t think of anything she could say that might help him find the man who stole the artifact.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“It
