“You’re very courageous,” Tyler told her.
“Or very stupid. My principles have often gotten me into trouble.” Hannah smiled wryly.
“So Daycon’s men left you for dead on the roadside? Why didn’t they finish you off?”
“I figure they were supposed to bring me back. Without me, Daycon can’t reproduce the formula,” Hannah replied.
“Is Lionel Daycon capable of murder?” Tyler demanded.
“I think he’s capable of hiring it to be done.” Hannah shivered. “There’s a lot of money at stake and he’s a very greedy man. Do you see why time is running out? I’m sick, and getting sicker. And right now, I’m all alone.”
“That’s not true, Hannah.”
Their gazes locked. She saw something in Tyler’s eyes that gave her hope.
“You’ve got me.”
Racing Against the Clock
Lori Wilde
LORI WILDE
realized from a very young age that she wanted to be a writer. Knowing it took many years of hard work to achieve that goal, she attended nursing school to have what her family called “a career to fall back on.” As a registered nurse, she worked in a variety of clinical settings from house supervisor to dialysis to anesthesia recovery. Her years in nursing taught her the healing power of love, a subject she loves to visit in her stories. Lori retired from nursing in 1997 in order to write fulltime. Although she loved helping people as a nurse, she feels she is truly blessed to be able to touch hearts through her love stories.
To Antonio—who never races against the clock.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Chapter 1
When Dr. Tyler Fresno stared down at the woman on the stretcher, he had the weirdest sensation that he had met his destiny and there was absolutely nothing he could do to alter his fate.
If someone had pressed him to elaborate on his feelings he would not have been able to put it into words, but there was no denying the rush of anxiety that clutched his stomach and held fast when he gazed upon her.
“Details,” Tyler demanded of the eager young emergency room intern following at his heels.
“Jane Doe. MVA. Rollover. Found unconscious at the scene. BP seventy-two over forty-eight,” the earnest physician-in-training reeled off. “X ray reveals hairline fracture of the right femur. Minor facial lacerations. Possible ruptured spleen. Neuro signs intact.”
The woman’s eyes were shuttered closed, her dark blond hair fanned across the pillowcase. Tyler placed her age somewhere between late twenties and early thirties. There was a superficial cut over one eyebrow and another along her jaw. Those wounds wouldn’t even require stitches.
She was a beautiful woman with a proud aquiline nose that at the moment played host to green plastic oxygen tubing. Her lips were salmon-colored, her cheeks pale. Her face was slender, her complexion as flawless as a cosmetics model’s.
Tyler snapped on a pair of rubber latex gloves, slipped a yellow barrier gown over his starched white lab jacket and tied a surgical mask over his clean-shaven face. He had just stepped from the shower after a twelve-hour workday when he had gotten the phone call. He’d been preparing for dinner out with friends, but as usual, the hospital had changed his plans at the last minute. Tyler couldn’t say he minded too much. He was happiest when working and this case promised to be more intriguing than most.
And there was nothing he liked more than a complicated medical puzzle to solve.
“Go on,” he prompted the intern, his eyes focused intently on the inert woman lying so still beneath the crisp green sheet.
A strange sensation slithered over him. Something he couldn’t name. Not trepidation, but something similar. Apprehension?
But why should he feel apprehensive?
“She has what appears to be mild chemical burns scattered over her arms and legs.”
“Chemical burns?” Tyler repeated, frowning.
The intern shrugged. “The paramedics found shattered glass vials throughout her car and an empty lockbox with a biohazard sticker on it. Apparently, she was transporting some volatile drug or chemical, and during the course of the accident the lockbox clasp was damaged and the vials tumbled out.”
“Do we know what we’re dealing with here?”
The intern shook his head. “The vials weren’t labeled but the paramedics were able to retrieve a small sample.”
“You’re saying the paramedics were exposed?”
“Potentially.”
Tyler swung his gaze to the younger man. “We could have toxic contamination.”
The intern nodded.
“Dammit, where’s the Hazardous Materials team?”
“On route.”
“I want this side of the E.R. evacuated and this room sealed off. Immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And anyone else who came in contact with this patient needs to be examined. Have those paramedics admitted for observation.”
“Will do.”
He could tell the intern thought he was going overboard, but the young pup was wet behind the ears. The man had no idea what lingering effects chemical
