Linda Johnston - Special Agent Nanny

“Don’t you think it would be overkill for Dr. Stanton to destroy all those records and endanger everyone in the hospital just to get rid of a few files that might implicate her?”

Shawn had seen arsonists set fires for less substantial reasons, just for the fun of seeing things burn. But often there was a better motive. Like covering up a truth. Or several truths…

“Of course, but what better way to hide who set the fire and why? And she was there that night. She was the one to call the fire department, pull the alarm for the hospital system. She even came running out with her daughter, screaming that Randall had left Jenny in KidClub.” Paxler shook his head. “The poor child. I can’t imagine a mother who would subject her own daughter to such danger, but it appears that’s what happened.”

That was one place that the story fell down, in Shawn’s estimation. He had seen Kelley with her daughter that morning. Whatever else she had done, Shawn doubted she’d have put Jenny in danger that way.

But that might be his own first impression, coloring his judgment.

“There’s no on else you can think of with motive to destroy the files?” he asked.

Paxler shrugged shoulders that appeared padded beneath his suit jacket. “I can’t imagine who. And the fire department tells me now that the fire was definitely arson.”

Shawn respected the Denver F.D.’s Fire Investigation Bureau. He’d once been among them.

But he would double check their conclusions.

It was possible that the fire had been an accident, as they’d initially thought. But if it had been arson, the indication seemed to be that Dr. Kelley Stanton was the one who’d played with matches.

Whatever the answer, whatever Kelley’s involvement, Shawn would learn the truth.

The day had felt abysmally long. Kelley couldn’t wait to go home. But mostly she couldn’t wait to see Jenny.

Smiling at the thought of her daughter, she picked up her pace down the nearly empty halls that connected the medical building with the hospital. Before the fire, she’d often stopped to see Jenny during her lunch break. Since the fire, she only did that when she could make sure Jenny wouldn’t see her. Every time Kelley left her now, Jenny went through the agonies of separation. And there were days when Jenny threw tantrums, yelled at the other kids, even spilled their lunches on the floor.

The counselor they’d been seeing said it would take time for Jenny to get over her fears about the fire. She was too young to understand much except how scared she’d been. Talking about it would help. But Jenny didn’t want to talk about it.

Today Kelley hadn’t been able to get away at lunch to peek in on Jenny. Every time she’d left her office, someone had beeped her. At least her services were in demand.

As she turned the corner to the KidClub, she recalled that morning.

The new attendant, Shawn Jameson, might still be there.

So what if Kelley thought him a hunk? Or that Madelyne Younger did, too? He would probably catch the attention of every woman in the hospital. But all that counted was whether he connected well with the children.

She pushed open the door and walked in. Her grin broadened.

Marge Ralston was there, leading some kids in an endearing off-key rendition of “I’m A Little Teapot.” Marge, in her early thirties like Kelley, loved children. A perky, curly-haired brunette, she wore paint-splashed smocks over her jeans, never caring if she got additional spots on them. She had studied to be a grade school teacher but had elected to work with little ones and was great with them.

Kelley waved at her. Then, not seeing her daughter, she mouthed, “Where’s Jenny?”

Without missing a beat or a teapot gesture, Marge pointed toward the door to one of the other rooms. Kelley headed there.

And stopped in the doorway. Large, brawny Shawn Jameson sat at a tyke table surrounded by kids, looking like a giant at an elf’s tea party. He appeared tense. His eyes darted from one child to another, as if he was unsure which would do something unexpected first.

Jenny sat beside him. She barely looked up when Kelley approached. On the table in front of her was a large paper on which she was sketching with crayons. Her drawing of uneven circles and lines was a credible rendering of a smiling pig.

“Jenny, that’s wonderful!” Kelley exclaimed, leaning over her daughter’s shoulder.

“Shawn teached me. He says he can teach me lots of an’mals.”

“Me, too,” said the little girl on Shawn’s other side. Claire Fritz, Jenny’s best friend, was the daughter of a woman who worked in the hospital pharmacy. Claire also had a colorful stick drawing in front of her, as did the other five children.

Kelley turned to thank Shawn and found herself looking straight into his blue eyes. They brightened a little as they found hers, as if the appearance of another adult put him more at ease. Her smile faltered as something seemed to spark between them, and she pulled herself upright so she was looking down on him. “This is wonderful, Shawn. Thank you.”

He quickly pushed back his chair and rose, unfurling his long limbs. He was probably just short of six feet, Kelley guessed, for she was eight or nine inches shorter and felt dwarfed not only by his height but also by his brawny breadth. From his hurried yet easy grace, she had no doubt that what expanded his vest and shirt was muscle, not flab.

“You’re welcome,” his deep voice rumbled. “Can I speak to you about Jenny’s behavior this morning?”

Kelley’s gut clenched. “What happened?”

He shook his head quickly. “Nothing bad. I just want to talk about how she was when you left her. I’ll get another attendant to keep an eye on the kids. Can we go get a cup of coffee in the cafeteria?”

Kelley blinked. Was he just looking for an excuse to get away from the kids? If so, why was he here?

Or was he hitting on her? That idea almost made her smile. Her miserable relationship with Randall, and their subsequent divorce, had taught her that what men thought of her was irrelevant. But to have one as handsome and as kind to kids as Shawn seem interested…? Well, that felt awfully good.

But inappropriate. He was on the hospital staff. She had enough problems these days. She didn’t need another.

Besides, she’d probably misread his simple invitation. Despite his apparent unease, he must like kids or he wouldn’t have taken this job. He’d be concerned about any child in his charge. He undoubtedly just wanted to discuss her troubled daughter.

They had an appointment with Jenny’s counselor that evening. And Kelley knew all about the problem with Jenny’s behavior when Kelley left her at KidClub—all the more reason to speak with Jenny’s therapist.

“Maybe another time,” she said. “Time to go, Jenny.”

THAT NIGHT, SHAWN lost count of the sit-ups he did on the worn gray carpet in the shabbily furnished apartment he’d leased near the hospital for the duration of his assignment.

When he was exhausted, he dragged his aching body up and forced it onto the tattered green sofa. The place smelled of cleaning products, but they failed to mask that the previous tenant had been a heavy smoker.

Shawn unbuttoned his shirt, feeling slightly strange without the shoulder and ankle holsters he wore on his other ICU assignments. Working with kids meant carrying no firearms, which was okay. Likely, the only danger he might face on this mission was the arsonist lighting up again. Improbable, given the suspected motive. Hospital records could only burn once.

He picked up the cool soft drink can he had left on the end table. As he took a swig of cold, sweet cola, he wished it was a beer.