Page 132 of Guarding Over You
They had to because, whoever this was, they were still out there. Which meant they were going to try again.
Whoever it was wanted to hurt him and they did. They tested him. Tested his ability to save the woman he loved.
If he hadn’t known what was going on in her life, he might not have rushed for the tox screen right away, but once they knew what she’d been given, it was waiting it out, then keeping her close.
That meant an officer outside the door and no one allowed in but him and immediate family.
If she hadn’t brought him a sandwich, if he hadn’t asked her to stay while he ate, he wouldn’t have been there to work on her immediately.
Again, his mind traveled roads it shouldn’t be on.
Trisha moved closer to her daughter and sat on the side of the bed, picking her hand up and holding it tight. “She’ll fight back. She always does.”
“She will,” he murmured.
Trisha turned toward him. “You love my daughter?”
“I do.”
“Does she feel the same way about you?”
“Yes.”
“Wish she’d told me that. Wish she told me so much more,” Trisha said. “I hope I get the—” She broke off in a sob.
“You will,” he said. “You can yell at her too. I know you want to.”
Trisha laughed, then cried. “I was so hard on her for years. I told her Billy wasn’t good enough for her. I made it so that she wouldn’t tell me what was going on in her life. That’s on me.”
He moved over and ran his hand over Trisha’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.” Which was ironic because it was exactly what he’d been doing. “She wouldn’t want that.”
“No,” Trisha said, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t.”
He heard voices outside the door and saw Ford and Clay come in, then Ford’s eyes drop to Trisha. “Any updates?” Ford asked.
“Nothing. No change. She’s still in a coma. Tell me you’ve got something.”
“We do,” Ford said.
“Trisha Charles, these are my brothers, Ford and Clay.” There was no need to introduce the sheriff. He was in uniform on top of it.
“I’ll stay with her,” Trisha said. “If I can?”
“Yes,” he said, then walked out with his brothers, Ford letting the officer know where they were going.
He led them into a room off to the side.
Ford started right in. “Tate has Erika Johnson in holding with security. She won’t talk until she sees you.”
“Erika?” he asked, his jaw dropping open. “What? You’ve got to be joking.”
“No,” Clay said. “Late last night your neighbors finally emailed me the bird camera footage. I saw a gray sedan pull intoArden’s driveway, but the person had a hood over their head. The bike was loaded into the backseat, then they pulled out and I got a partial license.”
“Clay got me up and I ran the plates with the cars of the staff on the list,” Ford said. “I got a hit at the same time Clay called that he’d found something else.”
“What did you find?” he asked. He was still trying to wrap his head around this, but then he remembered Erika was the one who got Arden the water when she was coughing.
None of that was planned. It just happened.
