Convictions (29 page)

Hank didn't know if it was a question or a statement. Either way, it ticked him off. But then, when
didn't
Jordan tick him off? "What's your point, Sheriff?"

Jordan clenched his teeth. "The point is, if you killed those people, she'll be devastated."

"Since I didn't murder anyone, that's not going to happen." Hank turned slightly to eye the sheriff. "Besides, why are you so worried about Olivia?"

He shrugged one shoulder, but his fingers tightened on the steering wheel, belying his nonchalance. "She reminds me of my kid sister."

Hank thought of his own sister and the protective instincts she evoked. He felt much the same way about Olivia, yet there was one big difference; nothing about Olivia conjured brotherly feelings.

"When she was in college, she was raped," Sheriff Jordan said, his gaze focused straight ahead.

For a moment, Hank thought he meant Olivia, but then realized it had been Jordan's sister who'd been raped. He was surprised the sheriff would reveal something so personal, but it explained Jordan's solicitude for Olivia. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me, too. It happened seven years ago. She's never gotten over it."

"It's not something a person gets over quickly." Hank stared at Jordan's profile. "For what it's worth, although Olivia was assaulted, I don't think she was raped."

Sheriff Jordan shot him a sharp look, but his expression eased into relief, and he nodded his gratitude.

They entered the edge of Steamboat Springs, and minutes later they were parked by the Yampa Valley Medical Center Emergency Department entrance. Hank grabbed Olivia's purse and jumped out of the sheriff's vehicle. With her arms wrapped around her waist, Olivia stood off to the side of the ambulance as her father was lifted out and rolled into the ED.

"How's he doing?" Hank asked her.

She blinked, and it took a moment for her to focus on him. "He's stable. They gave him some nitro, and the pain eased."

Relief washed through him. "That's good news, Olivia." He held out her purse. "Here."

She accepted it with a weak but sincere smile. "Thanks."

The gurney disappeared through the double doors and Olivia, Hank, and Sheriff Jordan followed.

Olivia was given a clipboard piled with forms, and she completed them while Hank and Jordan alternately paced. Over the next two hours, they all took turns pacing, sitting on the floral tapestry furniture and watching the headline news on the TV. And drinking coffee—lots of coffee.

Finally, a lumpy man with graying hair, a bulbous nose, and a compassionate expression entered the waiting area. "Olivia?"

She stood, and Hank and the sheriff flanked her. She eyed the doctor closely. "Dr. Norby?"

He smiled. "That's right. It's been a few years."

Olivia managed a shaky smile. "It has. How's Dad?"

Dr. Norby sobered. "Lucky to be alive. Blood tests indicate that he did indeed have a heart attack."

She closed her eyes and swayed. Hank placed his arm around her waist to steady her. After a moment, she pulled away from him as if afraid of leaning on someone and focused on the doctor.

"I'm going to admit him to the cardiac care unit and run some more tests," Dr. Norby said. "We're fortunate to have Dr. Cotton, a cardiologist, in the hospital today—he comes up from Denver twice a week. He'll make the final assessment, but I believe Andrew has some major blockage in a coronary artery. If that's the case, Dr. Cotton will probably want to do a balloon angioplasty and place some stents in the artery to keep the clogging from recurring."

"Is it dangerous?"

Dr. Norby smiled gently. "It's the least invasive procedure. Dr. Cotton has performed hundreds of them."

"How is Dad?"

"He's conscious and complaining about all his attachments," Dr. Norby said with a tiny chuckle. "Would you like to see him?"

"Yes, please." Olivia surged away from Hank.

"Follow me."

She paused long enough to say, "Thank you" to Hank and Sheriff Jordan.

Once Olivia was gone, Hank sank into one of the recliners. "That was close."

Jordan nodded but remained standing. "I have to make some phone calls."

"I'll wait here for Olivia."

Jordan stared at him a moment. "I'm trusting you, Elliott."

Hank locked his gaze on the sheriff's and nodded. "I won't run." He paused. "There's no reason to. I'm innocent"

Jordan's lips quirked upward. "You're starting to convince me."

Hank gaped after the sheriff's retreating form.

Olivia entered the emergency room cubicle and spotted her father, his eyes closed, lying on a wheeled bed. She recognized much of the medical equipment from her own hospital stay. A blood pressure cuff was wound around his upper right arm and connected to a machine mounted from the ceiling at eye level. His heart and breathing rate were being monitored from wires attached to his chest. An oxygen level indicator was clipped to his left forefinger, and an IV needle, connected to a blinking pump, was taped to the back of his left hand. A clear plastic tube fed him oxygen. His face was pale but not nearly as washed out as it had been earlier.

With silent footsteps, she neared the bed, and her father's eyelids fluttered open.

"Liv," he said with a raspy voice. "What're you doing here?"

Olivia barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Instead she laid her hand on his right one. "When a woman's father almost dies, it's logical that she'd be with him."

"Guess it wasn't heartburn, huh?"

Olivia swallowed her receding fear and managed a smile. "Afraid not. Dr. Norby said you probably need an angioplasty."

Her father made a face. "Doctors."

Unaccountably angry, she said, "You almost died, Dad. If not for Hank and Sheriff Jordan, you wouldn't have survived until the EMTs got to the ranch."

"That bad, huh?"

Olivia nodded and forced her irritation aside. She glanced around and spotted a rolling stool. Hooking it with her foot, she pulled it closer and sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." He absently touched his chest. "Earlier it felt like someone was sitting on my chest."

Surprisingly, the hum of equipment soothed Olivia's frazzled nerves. "Did Dr. Norby tell you he's admitting you?"

"Yes, which means I won't be getting any sleep tonight. Nurses will be waking me up every hour to torture me," he grumbled.

This time Olivia did roll her eyes heavenward. "Be glad you can still wake up," she said more sharply than she'd intended.

Her father's expression turned to chagrin. "I'm sorry, honey. I guess I should've been more suspicious of the chest pains. After all, my father died of a heart attack when he was sixty-two."

"I didn't know that."

"You were only a baby then." Her father sighed and glanced up at the quietly beeping monitor. "The nurse gave me a shot of anticoagulant in my belly. Hurt like a son of a—a lot. And she put a nitro patch on me."

Olivia glanced down at the round patch that wasn't attached to a wire. "It must be helping. You're sounding like your old cantankerous self."

A twinkle touched his tired eyes. "Who says I'm old?"

She laughed, but her own chest felt tight. They'd been lucky this time. But what about next time? Her dad was going to have to make some major life changes after this close call. And he was going to have to find a way to lessen his stress.

Like terminate his involvement in the work release program.

She'd been against the program from day one, and now she had the chance she'd been looking for. Yet she could no longer deny that if even one prisoner—like Hank Elliott—received a deserved break, the program was worth it. But if the choice was between her father's life and helping an unknown prisoner, it was an easy decision to make.

"How're things at the ranch?" her father asked, drawing her out of her dismal thoughts.

She grimaced. "Chaotic. Buck said he'd get the men back to work as soon as possible."

He nodded. "You're going to have to talk with Warden Vincent tomorrow morning when he arrives at the ranch."

"Can't I just cancel the meeting?"

"If you do that, he's going to send a van for the prisoners right away." He clasped her hand, and his fingers were cold and dry. "Convince him that nothing should be done unless hard evidence is found against one of the prisoners."

She stared down at their hands, remembering how she used to walk beside him, her small hand in his, and how big and powerful her father had seemed then. In fact, it had only been a few weeks ago when she'd felt the same as that little girl. But now he looked like a worn-out man past his prime, and she hated that he'd grown old without her realizing it.

She thought about his words. "I'm not sure that's the right thing to do. What if the murderer is one of them? We're only giving him another chance to kill again."

His eyes narrowed, and although they were dimmed slightly by the medications, they were still piercing. "Innocent until proven guilty, Liv."

She glanced away, knowing that legally, her father was right. But she also couldn't help but wonder if the prisoners had added to her father's stress after the murders. Had they indirectly brought on the heart attack?

A smiling nurse arrived and announced it was time to move him to the cardiac care unit. After kissing her father's brow and promising to be up to see him after he was settled, she went to find the sheriff and Hank. But she found only Hank sprawled in a waiting room chair.

"Where's Sheriff Jordan?" she asked.

Startled, Hank scrambled to his feet. "He had to make some phone calls."

"Uh, well, they're moving Dad to the CCU. Did you want to see him?" Olivia asked, unaccountably ill at ease.

"If you don't mind," Hank replied, obviously picking up on her nervousness.

"No, not at all." She forced a laugh. "Dad would appreciate the company. He knows better than to look for sympathy from me."

Hank shrugged and followed her to the unit. They remained in the background until the nurse was done asking her father a multitude of questions. Since Hank wasn't a family member, the nurse gave him only ten minutes to visit, then left them alone.

"I'm glad you're here, Hank," her father said. "You can keep an eye on Liv."

"As if," Olivia said with a sniff.

"You should go back to the ranch. There's nothing you can do here except watch an old man drool while he sleeps."

"Sorry, but you're stuck with us until Sheriff Jordan comes back," Olivia said, not the least bit contrite.

Her father harrumphed, then turned to Hank. "Olivia said thanks to you, I'm still alive and kicking."

"Sheriff Jordan helped," Hank said. "I learned CPR in prison. Used it once there."

"Maybe you should think about going to med school instead of vet school."

Hank chuckled. "No, sir. Animals don't complain as much as people."

"Are you trying to tell me something, son?" her father asked with a feigned scowl.

Hank made some reply, but Olivia's thoughts were caught up with what her father had called him.
Son.
She'd known he liked Hank, but she hadn't realized the extent of his fondness.

Silence brought her out of her musings. Her father's eyes were closed, and his face relaxed in sleep. She caught Hank's attention and motioned toward the door. He walked out, and she joined him in the hallway. His hazel eyes were warm and sympathetic as he gazed at her.

"As soon as Sheriff Jordan is ready, I'd like to go back to the ranch and get some things for Dad," Olivia said.

Hank glanced over her shoulder. "Here he is now."

She turned around and spotted the sheriff striding toward them down the corridor.

"How is he?" Jordan asked.

Olivia gave him a rundown of what the doctor had said, then asked, "When are you going back to the ranch?"

"That's what I came to tell you. I need to get back now. If you're not ready, I'll send Buck or one of the other men to pick you up."

"No, that's all right. I'd like to go now," Olivia said. "Just let me check on Dad."

She returned a few minutes later to find the sheriff and Hank leaning against opposite walls. For once they didn't look like two dogs defending their territory.

The drive back didn't seem to take nearly as long as the ambulance ride to the hospital. Arriving in the ranch yard, she was surprised to see a dark sedan parked by the barn alongside a county patrol car.

Olivia and the two men got out of the sheriff's SUV,

"That black car wasn't here earlier," Olivia commented.

"It's probably the FBI," Jordan admitted. "They finally sent someone from the Denver office. They'll be taking over the investigation."

Olivia gritted her teeth. Her father had warned her, and she'd known, too, but she hadn't been prepared for the reality of the suited FBI agents on the ranch. Or the caged look in Hank's expression.

"Will they be doing all the questioning, too?" Olivia asked.

The sheriff nodded wearily. "They'll probably want to talk to everyone themselves, even if I've already questioned them."

Olivia rubbed her throbbing brow where a headache had taken residence. "All right." She eyed Jordan. "With my father in the hospital, I want to be kept in the loop, Sheriff."

Jordan smiled dryly. "Depends on if they keep
me
in the loop." He turned to Hank. "I'll make sure they only get the facts."

Hank's eyes widened slightly, then he nodded. Ever since her father's collapse, a truce seemed to have formed between Hank and the sheriff.

"I'd best get this over with." The sheriff squared his broad shoulders and strode toward the scene of the latest crime.

"Do you need any help with your father's things?" Hank asked Olivia.

She shook her head. "I can handle it. But I would appreciate it if you'd help me find Buck."

Hank nodded. They found the foreman five minutes later in his room in the bunkhouse, working on his computer.

"How's the judge?" Buck immediately asked.

Olivia gave him the short version and ended with, "I'm going to drive back to the hospital as soon as I get some of his things in an overnight bag. Did you see the FBI come in?"