Control (Harper Security Ops #18)

Three

THREE

Alana

“I’ll be fine for a few hours.”

Standing at the foot of the hospital bed, my mom was wary. Despite my repeated insistence and the doctor’s reassurance, Sherry Wolf wasn’t convinced. She was staring at me like she thought I might vanish if she dared to blink.

A vision of Mrs. Fitzpatrick flashed in my mind, and I let go of some of the frustration I felt. It wasn’t easy for moms like mine and Yasmine’s to cope with situations like this, even if what my mom was experiencing didn’t come close to Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

“Are you sure you don’t want Dad to just run out and grab something quickly? I can make the soup tomorrow, when you’re allowed to go home.”

I sighed, feeling nothing but disappointment at what this was doing to her. “If you don’t want to make it, that’s fine.”

“It’s not that, Alana. I’ll do anything you want, but I’m worried about you. I don’t want to leave you here alone,” she explained.

“It’s only going to be for a couple of hours. And I can promise you, it’ll be the best thing you can do for me. Nothing would make me feel better right now than to have your creamy chicken, spinach, and mushroom tortellini soup.”

My eyes slid to the side, noting the compassionate and understanding look on my father’s face. Norman Wolf was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Because he knew this was how my mom was, and he never wanted to do anything to deny her the right to her feelings. At the same time, now that it had been hours since they’d received the call I’d been in an accident—I’d been brought in yesterday, for crying out loud—and he’d verified for himself that I was okay, he understood his wife was overreacting.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll run home, and I’ll make it as quickly as I can,” she said, the tone of her voice an indication she was attempting to justify why it’d be okay to leave me. “But if anything changes, or you need us, please call, and we’ll head right back over here.”

I smiled at her, wanting to give her that last bit of encouragement. “I’m going to be thirty-one in just a few months, Mom. I think I can handle two hours on my own in a hospital, where people make a living taking care of others.”

“I understand. But I’m just worried about you. What about Jordan? I can call and ask him to come here. This way, you’ll only be alone for just a few minutes.”

I shook my head. “I know you’re worried, but no. Jordan’s so busy at work right now.”

“You’re his sister. He’d come and stay with you,” she insisted.

“Of course, he would. And I love him for it. But Jordan called me earlier today before they took me in for surgery, and I know he’s swamped with depositions. It’s really okay.”

My older brother was an attorney—an excellent one, at that—and the two of us were especially close. As soon as he found out what had happened to me, he didn’t hesitate to call and check on me. He was in the middle of a huge case, and getting away would have been a challenge.

Obviously, if this had been a life-or-death situation, he would have dropped everything and rushed here. But I assured him I was okay and insisted he not rearrange his entire schedule. He’d find the time to visit me soon enough.

My mom was a different story. She was here, could see I was doing fine, and still worried. I’d never known a day when my mother wasn’t anxious about something. It was so bad, she didn’t even drive.

And though it bothered me to keep the truth from my parents, I allowed them to believe the reason I was here now was because of a freak car accident. My mom already struggled with the work I did, insisting from the start that I’d wind up in some precarious positions, so this would only add to that growing fear.

Fortunately, I could count on my dad to give her the time and space to express her concerns before he’d eventually step in and reason with her.

“Sherry, darling, if we want Alana to be able to leave here tomorrow, I think it’s important we help her follow through on the doctor’s orders,” Dad finally interjected. “Now that she’s out of surgery, she needs to get some food in her. Our daughter has made it clear the hospital food isn’t her first choice, and you told her she could have anything she wanted. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back.”

When he put it like that, Mom couldn’t argue. She moved around to the side of the bed, took my hand in hers, squeezed, and said, “We’ll go as fast as we can.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

My mom leaned down, kissed my head, and reminded me, “Call us if you need anything.”

“I will.”

After she released my hand and stepped back, my dad moved forward to kiss my forehead and say goodbye. Then, I was alone.

And for the first few minutes, I just closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I wanted just a moment of peace, to be able to relax and not think about anything.

I wasn’t so lucky.

To anyone who might have walked into the room, I was certain I’d look like I was sleeping, like I was feeling nothing but contentment.

It would have been an incorrect assumption, though.

Because on the inside, I was freaking out. I was panicking. Not enough that I’d stop doing my job, but enough to make me realize I needed to reconsider my approach on this specific story. I wanted to believe I’d gotten away fast enough, that nobody knew exactly what I was after, but I couldn’t be certain.

As soon as I was released and could get back to doing my job again, I was going to have to take extra precautions.

On the bright side, the injury to my foot wasn’t so bad that I was going to wind up on crutches. Of course, I had gone in for surgery, so it was still serious. One of the bones in my toe had been shattered, and the tendon severed. The accident itself had happened so fast, the force of the impact so severe, that I had no idea what specifically had caused the damage to my foot.

Fortunately, I didn’t lose my toe, and the doctor was able to repair everything. But I had six weeks of being in a walking boot ahead of me. I suspected I was going to need a few days to give my foot a chance to heal and to reduce the swelling.

I was going to have to spend the next few days coming up with a new plan of attack and hope that I could keep myself safe in the process. As long as I could avoid detection, I thought I’d be okay. The problem was that anyone I might attempt to interview could be a suspect, so there was no question that things could get dicey again.

But giving up wasn’t an option.

I had every intention of getting to the bottom of this mess. I’d never been the kind of person who could sit back and do nothing when I could use my skills to make a difference. I was going to do everything I could to figure out what happened to both Yasmine and Annie.

I blinked my eyes open, prepared to turn on the television in hopes of distracting myself for a couple of hours, but the sound of heels clicking down the hall outside my room had me stopping. My gut told me those heels were coming right to my room.

Seconds later, I learned I was right.

Rita scurried into the room. “Oh, my God, Alana. Are you okay?”

I offered a half-hearted smile. “I’m alright. I mean, this isn’t exactly convenient, but physically speaking, I’m going to be fine.”

“How bad are your injuries? All you told me this morning was that you had to have surgery on your foot. Honestly, I was so caught up in learning that you were in such danger that my mind couldn’t quite focus on the specifics of what actually happened to you. You told me something about your foot, but what about your head? You’re bandaged there, too.”

I nodded, lifting my hand and pressing my fingers lightly to the side of my head just above my eyebrow. “Luckily, this is nothing major. Just a cut.”

“Stitches?”

“No. Just a couple of butterfly bandages.”

Some of the tension eased out of her frame. “And your foot? How bad is it?”

“There’s some substantial swelling right now, and I’ll be in a walking boot for the next six weeks. But I guess after I get through these first few days and the swelling goes down, it shouldn’t be too bad. One of the bones in my toe was shattered and the tendon severed, but the doctor managed to get everything back into place. I’ll just need to take things easy for a couple of days, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” she insisted. “Take the time you need. I wouldn’t rush back before you’re ready.”

While I knew she just wanted to be accommodating and understanding, it was almost as though she didn’t know me. “I refuse to take too long, Rita. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“You’ve got sick time, Alana. Don’t risk your recovery for an income.”

Pressing my palms into the unsupportive hospital bed mattress, I shifted my body to a more upright position. Even with the back of the bed up, it seemed I kept sinking down. “It’s not about the money. I’ve got to get back to work on these stories. There’s been no news on Yasmine. Unless she’s woken up since I wound up in my accident yesterday, someone needs to be searching for who assaulted her. And with the exception of whatever the authorities might be doing about Annie’s murder, nothing is happening there, either.”

Rita swallowed hard as her eyes cut away from mine. In an instant, I knew something was wrong.

My body tensed, and when I glanced up at the heart rate monitor, I noticed the number steadily climbing. “What’s going on? Has Yasmine woken up? Oh, God. Did she… Is she?—”

She shook her head. “No. There’s been no update on Yasmine.”

Rita’s voice was so small, so quiet.

Whatever was going on, it was clear she was uncomfortable with having to be the one to tell me. “Rita?” I called, my voice just a touch over a whisper.

She returned her attention to me, the discomfort she felt etched into her expression. “I really don’t want to do this to you right now.”

“Do what? What happened?”

Rita let out a deep sigh of frustration. “Alana, I’m so sorry, but…well, Dale made some difficult decisions today.”

Dale was the news director at the station. At the mention of him, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “And?”

“And I was so panicked after I talked to you today. I felt so guilty about having approved you taking over the Annie Sanders case after Yasmine got attacked and then you winding up needing to race through town two weeks later.”

Nothing she was saying was doing anything to ease the overwhelming sense of doom I could feel in the air. She had bad news. News that I didn’t think had anything to do with Yasmine or Annie—news that had to do with me and my ability to cover these stories. Without her confirmation, I knew that was the case. “Did Dale decide to let someone else take over where I left off?” I asked, feeling the painful tightening in my throat.

“Not exactly.”

Her tone did nothing to make me feel any better. “So, what is it?”

Rita shot me a sympathetic look. “He’s decided that nobody except for the police will be doing any investigation into either story. At least, nobody at our news station.”

“What?”

Nodding, confirming I hadn’t heard her incorrectly, she added, “Dale didn’t know about the note you found that Yasmine had received. Between that, Annie’s murder, Yasmine’s attack, and what happened to you, he’s not taking any more chances. He believes it’s apparent that whatever happened to all of you is the result of some very dangerous people. Dale doesn’t want you, or anyone else at the station, pushing this further and ending up in a worse situation.”

I stared at her, feeling utterly dumbfounded. “That’s not fair. He can’t do that!”

“He did. I thought it was crazy, too, but now that I’ve had some time to think about it, it’s probably for the best. Alana, you could have been killed.”

There was that.

And maybe I should have taken a step back and heeded the warning that these people, whoever they were, would stop at nothing to conceal the truth. A smarter person might have used Dale’s decision to let themselves off the hook.

I couldn’t do that.

“I can’t, Rita. I can’t just stop.”

“He’s not going to let you do this.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I reasoned. “Maybe once he sees that I’m okay, that I’m still eager to get to the bottom of this, he’ll change his mind.”

She shrugged. “I mean, you can try to do that. Maybe he’ll feel differently in a few days or can be persuaded to change his mind. But I’ll warn you now, he was livid today. If it’s any indication, I think you’re going to have a difficult time trying to convince him.”

Letting this go wasn’t an option for me. If I hadn’t just gotten out of surgery two hours ago, something I still felt slightly groggy from, I might have found a way to march myself out the front door. “I don’t understand. He just wants to give up?”

She sighed. “It makes no sense. I know. I wish I didn’t have to be the one to deliver the news. In fact, I didn’t think I’d have to do that today. I thought I’d have some time, that you’d want to rest and recuperate for a few weeks, and I’d have an opportunity to come up with a way to break the news that wouldn’t make it seem so bad.”

For several long moments, I sat there in tense silence with Rita. My mind was racing, my pulse pounding. I was mad, so mad. It felt like the biggest injustice, and I just couldn’t stand for it.

“This isn’t what we do,” I murmured.

“What?”

“We don’t quit, Rita,” I clipped, my voice rising. “We don’t just give up. I certainly don’t. And this just doesn’t make any sense. Do you agree with this?”

Her expression was grim. “I get why you feel the way you do, but I’ll be honest, Alana. This has taken a very serious turn. It might be better to pull back on this one.”

“Since when? Who does that? What person in my position, in Yasmine’s, takes a step back when things get dicey? Journalists and reporters know what they sign up for when they get into this career. They know there’s the potential for dangerous situations. We go to war-torn countries, for crying out loud. And so now, I’m expected to just give up. It’s like everyone has adopted the mindset that bad things happen, we don’t have any answers, and it’s okay to forget about it. I can’t accept that. And I certainly can’t sit around when my coworker is unconscious, sedated, and intubated in a bed in this hospital, pretending like it’s normal.”

“I’m not saying that you should pretend it’s normal.”

“Dale is. And you’re not exactly saying you disagree with him wanting to take this story away from me.”

“He’s just worried, and he wants us to leave this one to the authorities, because it’s clearly become dangerous. There’s so much that’s unknown,” she said, a failed attempt at justifying his reasoning.

I shook my head, feeling so much disgust. “You should go.”

“Alana, please don’t be like this,” she begged.

My eyes narrowed, and by some miracle, with the strength I didn’t know I had inside me, I sat up and pulled my back away from the mattress. “Like what, Rita? Angry that this decision was made for me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why that would be the case. I was born to do this job, and now I’m wondering if I even have one to go back to.”

“Of course, you do,” she assured me. “Dale wants you there. That’s why he’s doing this.”

Anger, frustration, sadness, and despair bubbled up inside me. “Just go.”

“Alana, I’m really sor?—”

“Get out!” I shouted.

Rita jerked back at the harshness in my tone, and the second I got the words out, a knock came at the door. It wasn’t closed, so when my eyes shot in that direction, I saw the face of someone I’d never forget, for as long as I lived.

“Ty,” I breathed.

What was he doing here?

“Hi, Alana. Is this a bad time? I can come back.”

He looked genuinely concerned, though I couldn’t be sure if he was worried that he’d walked in on something so tense or if my physical well-being was causing the distress. Maybe it was a mix of both.

I didn’t know Ty beyond having met him yesterday when he waited with me and comforted me after I got into that accident.

He was handsome. Tall with brown skin and eyes, dark hair, and an impossibly fit physique. Though he looked like he normally shaved, the dark stubble around his mouth and along his jawline indicated it had been a couple of days since he last took a razor to his face.

But in that moment, I wasn’t even remotely concerned with his looks. I didn’t know him at all, but I knew I’d rather spend the next hour with him than another five minutes with Rita.

So, I shook my head and answered, “Not at all.” Turning my attention to Rita, I said, “She was just leaving.”

Rita snapped her lips together, misery swirling in her eyes. She gave me one last pointed look before she dipped her chin, turned, and walked out.

With the tip of my nose stinging, I watched her go.

Then my gaze shifted and settled on Ty. He was still looking at me with trepidation in his features. And I didn’t know what it was—perhaps a mix of not having been able to tell my parents the truth and everything Rita had just shared with me—but there was something about the way Ty was looking at me that made me want to confide all my problems in him.