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 doubted that the special agent could understand the way she felt. He was big and bulky, and impeccably dressed in a navy sports coat and khaki slacks, with a patterned tie that brought out his rugged complexion and dark eyes. Some might call him handsome. She found him intense.
Glancing into the small treatment room, she saw Hugh Powers, head in his hands, sitting in the chair where his wife had slept not that long ago.
Ella tapped on the door frame. “Corporal Powers?”
He glanced up.
“I’m sorry about Mary Kate.”
“The EMTs said she would have bled out if you hadn’t helped.” He looked weary and confused.
A sound caused her to turn. The special agent had entered the hallway and stood staring at her. “I thought you were going to your residence.” His voice was low and clipped.
“I was talking to Corporal Powers.” She glanced back at the soldier. “I know this isn’t the homecoming from the Middle East that you expected, with sick children and an injured wife. If it’s any consolation, the girls are getting stronger, and I’m sure the doctors at Fort Rickman are doing everything they can for Mary Kate.”
“When can I leave here?” he asked. “I need to go to the hospital to be with my wife, but the sergeant said he might have more questions.”
“Maybe Special Agent Swain can help you.”
Zach stepped forward, getting much too close to Ella. All she’d been able to smell since the storm was Georgia clay and dried blood. Now she inhaled the clean scent of sandalwood and a hint of lime.
She looked up, taking in his bulk, and then glanced down at her tattered blouse and soiled hands, realizing once again that she couldn’t let appearance define her.
Ella wasn’t who Quin had wanted her to be—that became evident over the course of their short marriage. The problem was, she wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted anymore. Quin had that effect on her. Or maybe it had started with her father, who was never satisfied with anything she did. How had she married a man who reminded her of her dad? A psychologist might say she was trying to prove her worth to both men, but she was tired of having to prove herself to anyone, even the special agent.
He touched her arm. She glanced down at a hand that would dwarf her own.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice brimming with concern.
Evidently, she had been lost in thought longer than she realized. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Turning abruptly on her heel, she followed the female police officer into her private residence and sighed as she closed the door behind her. Of course she wasn’t fine. She had been beaten up by an assailant who’d tried to shoot her.
The gun. Why hadn’t she remembered the gun?
Ella hurried back into the hallway and stopped short in front of the treatment room. Zach moved to the door.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“The man...the assailant...he drew a weapon. The gun jammed. He kept trying to pull the trigger, over and over again.”
The reality of her own brush with death overtook her. Tears burned her eyes. Her body trembled. Shock. She knew the signs, but couldn’t help herself. She felt weak and sick and all alone.
Powerless to stop herself, she stepped toward the special agent with the wide shoulders and broad chest.
He opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. “You’re safe now.”
Which was exactly how she felt. Then, all too quickly, she realized her mistake and pulled out of his hold.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her moment of weakness. Her cheeks burned as she retraced her steps and escaped into the kitchen.
Ella had hoped to find peace in Freemont, Georgia, but she’d found something else. She’d found a brutal attacker, a man who had tried to kill her. Why had he come into her clinic and what had he wanted to find?
* * *
Why had he opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace? Zach let out a stiff breath and mentally chastised himself for his emotional response to the doc. What was wrong with him tonight?
He stood staring after her as she closed the door at the end of the hallway, and willed himself to act like an investigator instead a guy taken in by a pretty face and big blue eyes. Inwardly, he shifted back to CID mode before he stepped into the treatment room where Corporal Powers waited.
After introducing himself, Zach inquired about the corporal’s unit and why he had followed his wife and daughters to the clinic.
“I didn’t follow them,” the man insisted. “Mary Kate and the twins left the house when I was sleeping. The girls had been sick, and my wife mentioned calling the doctor.”
“Dr. Jacobsen?”
The soldier nodded. “I figured they were here.”
“So you came to find them.”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me what happened when you arrived?”
“I already told the Freemont cop.”
“But you need to tell me.” Zach pulled out a notebook and held a pen over the tablet. He glanced at the young father and waited.
The sergeant clenched his hands. A muscle in his thick neck twitched.
Zach voiced his concern. “Does it make you angry to talk about what you saw, Corporal Powers?”
“I found my wife on the floor of this clinic. If it hadn’t been for the doc, Mary Kate would have bled out. How would that make you feel?”
“Worried about my wife’s condition.”
“I