The race to find a kidnapped baby leads the newly formed secret agency Colorado Confidential to a fire in a hospital records room. Now agent Shawn Jameson will match wits with an arsonist while trying not to fall for a beautiful doctor whose secrets he’s sworn to expose…

“Did I hurt you?” Shawn demanded.

Kelley’s dazed eyes searched her body as if determining that everything was intact. Shawn followed her gaze, feeling warmth ignite inside. She looked damn good to him. “I… No, I’m all right. But… Thank you for following me—for keeping me from being hit. The driver must have seen us. Why didn’t he stop to make sure we’re all right?”

“Yeah, why?” But Shawn knew the answer. “Come on. I’m taking you to my place.”

“No, I’m fine. I can drive. I need to get home.”

“You don’t need to get home. Not now.”

“But—”

“Don’t you get it? Someone just tried to run you over, Dr. Stanton. Intentionally. And since he didn’t succeed, he might just try again.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

We wind up a great summer with a bang this month! Linda O. Johnston continues the hugely popular COLORADO CONFIDENTIAL series with Special Agent Nanny. Don’t forget to look for the Harlequin special-release anthology next month featuring USA TODAY bestselling author Jasmine Cresswell, our very own Amanda Stevens and Harlequin Historicals author Debra Lee Brown. And not to worry, the series continues with two more Harlequin Intrigue titles in November and December.

Joyce Sullivan concludes her companion series THE COLLINGWOOD HEIRS with Operation Bassinet. Find out how this family solves a fiendish plot and finds happiness in one fell swoop. Rounding out the month are two exciting stories. Rising star Delores Fossen takes a unique perspective on the classic secret-baby plot in Confiscated Conception, and a very sexy Cowboy PI is determined to get to the bottom of one woman’s mystery in an all-Western story by Jean Barrett.

Finally, in case you haven’t heard, next month Harlequin Intrigue is increasing its publishing schedule to include two more fantastic romantic suspense books. That’s six titles per month! More variety, more of your favorite authors and of course, more excitement.

It’s a thrilling time for us, and we want to thank all of our loyal readers for remaining true to Harlequin Intrigue. And if you are just learning about our brand of breathtaking romantic suspense, fasten your seat belts for an edge-of-your-seat reading experience. Welcome aboard!

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor, Harlequin Intrigue

Special Agent Nanny
Linda O. Johnston

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dedication:

To the other Colorado Confidential authors, as well as the authors of all the other Confidential series.

I appreciate being in such good company. And, of course, to Fred.

Acknowledgments:

Thanks to Denise O’Sullivan, Melissa Endlich and Allison Lyons for allowing me to participate in Colorado Confidential. It’s been fun!

Also, thanks to Dr. Donald Zangwill and Dr. Kenneth Zangwill for their medical information.

Any mistakes or misdiagnoses are the result of my poetic license, and not their medical licenses.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda O. Johnston’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won the Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for “Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year.” Now, several published short stories and novels later, Linda is recognized for her outstanding work in the romance genre.

A practicing attorney, Linda juggles her busy schedule between mornings of writing briefs, contracts and other legalese, and afternoons of creating memorable tales of the paranormal, time travel, mystery, contemporary and romantic suspense. Armed with an undergraduate degree in journalism with an advertising emphasis from Pennsylvania State University, Linda began her versatile writing career running a small newspaper, then working in advertising and public relations, later obtaining her J.D. degree from Duquesne University School of Law in Pittsburgh.

Linda belongs to Sisters in Crime and is actively involved with Romance Writers of America, participating in the Los Angeles, Orange County and Western Pennsylvania chapters. She lives near Universal Studios, Hollywood, with her husband, two sons and two cavalier King Charles spaniels.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Shawn Jameson—An undercover investigator, he never thought much about kids until he had to play nanny to interrogate a beautiful suspected arsonist.

Dr. Kelley Stanton—The lovely doctor spends a lot of time combating rumors against her…as well as fighting her attraction to the man investigating her.

Jenny Stanton—Were the three-year-old’s tantrums after the fire the result of agitation…or something more sinister?

Dr. Randall Stanton—Is Kelley’s ex-husband the source of the rumors against her…and are his allegations designed to cast suspicion away from himself?

Cheryl Marten—Randall’s latest conquest, who has an agenda of her own.

Louis Paxler—The administrator would do anything to minimize the hospital’s liability.

Juan Cortes—The janitor knows everything that goes on around the hospital…including who set the fire.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Six weeks ago

Dr. Kelley Stanton rounded the corner in the hospital corridor, massaging the ache in one temple with her free hand. At least she was out of her lab coat and in light street clothes appropriate to Denver’s August weather. Too bad she couldn’t shed the paperwork pending as follow-up to the day’s patients as easily. She inhaled deeply as a sigh formed in her chest. Except—

Smoke! She smelled smoke!

“Oh, no,” she whispered, automatically pulling her purse off her shoulder and grabbing for her cell phone. Don’t panic. It might be nothing.

She looked around. The corridor was long. Peach-colored walls. Lots of closed doors and hanging signs to direct patients. It was empty now. She was the only one there.

This wasn’t the hall to the parking lot exit. By habit, she had gone the wrong way, toward the administrative wing of Gilpin Hospital. Toward the area where her three-year-old daughter, Jenny, went to day care.

Thank heavens it was late. Her ex-husband, Randall, also a doctor, would already have picked up Jenny. And the admin wing held offices, not patients.

Still—

She sped forward. Surely someone had simply over-cooked microwave popcorn in a staff lunchroom. Or it was something equally innocuous. There couldn’t be a fire in Gilpin Hospital.

The heels of her low, comfortable pumps clicked briskly on the shiny linoleum floor. The rapidity of her pulse matched her pace.

She turned right, toward the increasing smell. An ominous gray cloud billowed at the end of the short hall.

In the direction of KidClub.

“Fire!” she shouted.

At least no one should be around. It was seven o’clock at night. The child-care center closed at six-thirty. Most admin staff were already gone by then.

Quickly she dialed 9-1-1 and gave the particulars. The operator promised to send firefighters immediately.

“Fire!” she shouted again. “Is anyone here?”

No reply. Good. Maybe everyone else had left.

But she couldn’t be certain.

Kelley glanced up at the walls, looking for a building fire alarm. The whole hospital should be alerted. The evacuation plan might need to be implemented.

She had to get out, too. But first she needed to make sure no one was in danger.

There was a fire alarm outside the child-care facility. She would go down the hall that far and pull the alarm. She had to make sure no one remained inside. No child. Jenny.

KidClub was three quarters of the way down this relatively short hallway. Its door was closed but not locked. The lights were still on.

The smell of the surrounding smoke gagged her.

She ran inside, checked the three large playrooms. The kitchen. The bathroom.

Thankfully, no one was there.

She hustled back to the corridor. A crackling roar filled the air from down the hall. The smoke was thicker. She coughed as she broke the glass and set off the alarm. The cacophonous pulsing blare surrounded her.

Where was the fire? In the large records storage room at the end? No one would be there, but all that paper would provide a huge source of fuel.

She coughed again. Her eyes stung, teared. She had to get out. “Is anyone here?” she called again to be sure.

And heard something.

Was it her imagination? The sound had been so tiny compared with the alarm and the thundering from the end of the hall, punctuated now by an occasional crash.

She had to check.

It wasn’t easy to see with her eyes smarting. A hand on the wall, she inched along. “Who’s there?” she called.

And heard the noise again. Like a child’s whimper.

“Please, God, no,” Kelley murmured, moving faster.

Another short hall veered from the main corridor. Kelley tried to peer down it, then heard a small voice. “Mommy!”

“Jenny? Oh Lord, Jenny?” Kelley shoved at the air, as if to erase the smoke. Below, on the floor, she got a glimpse of bright yellow.

Jenny had worn her bright yellow jumper that morning.

Kelley knelt. Her tiny, blond-haired daughter was crouched on the floor. At least there the smoke was not as thick, but Jenny coughed as Kelley lifted her into her arms and hugged her tight. The tears running down her face now were not entirely due to the fire.

Where the hell was Randall? How could he have left their daughter alone?

No matter now. There would be plenty of time to censure him, once Jenny and she were safe.

Coughing as she reentered the main corridor, her precious cargo snugged safely against her, Kelley glanced right. The only area on fire seemed to be the records room. She’d seen no one flee after she’d cried out and set off the alarm. Hopefully, no one else was here.

The siren still shrieking, Kelley hurried away from the smoke to the outside where people gathered in excitement and concern.

Her daughter and she would be fine, though they’d both have to be checked for smoke inhalation.

But thank heavens the only damage appeared to be to paperwork. Things. Hospital records.

The fire was certainly unfortunate.

But at least there should be no major consequences.

Chapter One

The Present

“You want me to what?” Shawn Jameson shoved his chair back from the table, stood and stared at Colleen Wellesley. “You can’t be serious.”

His boss crossed her arms without rising. About forty-five years old, with irritation narrowing her blue-green eyes, she appeared very serious. And that did not make Shawn happy at all. “You’ve got your orders,” she said quietly. “Your cover will be as a caregiver in the child-care center at Gilpin Hospital.” She was dressed like a rancher in a plaid flannel shirt and jeans. But that did not keep her from looking authoritative.

Shawn heard muffled laughter. He turned to glare at Fiona Clark, another Colorado Confidential operative, who had joined Colleen and him in the secret, basement meeting room of the Royal Flush Ranch. By the time he was able to turn a fierce gaze on her, the blond former FBI agent had pasted a sympathetic expression on her face. But there was mirth in her brown eyes.

Fiona, like Shawn, was dressed similarly to Colleen for hard work on the ranch—but that was not all they were here for. In keeping with his cover, Shawn wore a leather vest over a comfortable blue work shirt that was tucked into well-worn, faded jeans. He’d bought his boots in Texas when, while in training, he’d visited the Smoking Barrel Ranch, the cover for the original Confidential agency.

Shawn turned back toward Colleen. What could he do? These were his first orders directly from her, though she’d been his employer for a while. He had joined the staff of Investigations, Confidential and Undercover, a private investigation agency known as ICU, a couple of years ago. At first, he’d been aware that there was a secretive boss, known only as C. Wellesley, in the background calling the shots. He had only recently learned she was a woman, and even more recently met her. Here. On the ranch. When she had recruited him into Colorado Confidential, a very new, very special covert arm of the Colorado Department of Public Safety. He’d undergone training here for the past few months. It was definitely time to go to work.

But this…?

“What the hell—er, heck—do I know about tending a bunch of kids?” He ran his fingers through his short, dark blond hair in frustration. “You hear that? I don’t even know how the hell to watch my language.”

“You’ll learn,” Colleen said mildly. “Either that, or the kids’ll bring home some interesting new vocabulary.”

“Damn.” This wasn’t getting Shawn anywhere. He thought fast, taking his seat at the table once more. “Look, Colleen,” he said in a cool and logical tone. “You have someone here who can undoubtedly do a better job with this than me—Fifi.”

A growl issued from behind him. Fiona hated that nickname, but she had earned his use of it now by laughing at him.

“The fact that Fiona is female doesn’t mean she’d do better with this cover than you, Shawn,” Colleen said mildly. “And this assignment requires someone with your particular expertise—arson investigation. You do know something about that, don’t you?”

She knew full well he did. He had devoted his life to fighting fires—and to bringing down the people who set them. With good reason. Damned good reason.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I know something about that.”

“There’s more to the situation than the fire that destroyed the records department of Gilpin Hospital six weeks ago,” Colleen continued. “Wiley Longbottom thinks that the fire could be connected to the flu epidemic that ran through Silver Rapids a few months back.” Longbottom was the director of the Colorado Department of Public Safety. Colleen reported to him. “He believes there’s a chance the flu was caused by the same type of microbe found in the blood samples Michael took from the sheep at the Half Spur Ranch.”

Michael Wellesley, Colleen’s brother, had just returned from an undercover assignment at that sheep ranch, which was partially owned by powerful Colorado senator Franklin Gettys. Not a man you wanted to accuse of anything without indisputable proof. He’d also brought back an unanticipated reward, his new love, Nicola Carson. She’d been the target of an assassin, and was staying at the Royal Flush under Michael’s personal protection.

Colleen continued in a deceptively mild voice, “And if so, we definitely need more information. When we got the test results from the Center for Disease Control, the blood samples showed antibodies for Q fever.”

“That’s a disease carried by livestock anyway, isn’t it?” Fiona asked.

“Yes, but Wiley thinks the Silver Rapids flu epidemic might not have been flu after all. It may have been an outbreak of Q fever. And while Q fever is often found in livestock, a human epidemic of that proportion is…suspicious. And the whole mess could have some bearing on the Langworthy kidnapping.”

“How?” Shawn demanded, stunned by Colleen’s implication that the flu could have a human source. If so, no doubt someone had a vested interest in covering it up.

“The missing baby’s mother, Holly Langworthy, was one of the people infected. At the time, she was still pregnant with little Schyler. We have to look into the fire and the flu, in case the baby’s disappearance is somehow related.”

Ah, Shawn thought. That was the crux of it. Colorado Confidential’s first major case wasn’t just high priority. It was the priority. Schyler, the infant grandson of one of Colorado’s most influential citizens, Samuel Langworthy, had been kidnapped. So far, regular law enforcement agencies with jurisdiction, even the FBI, were stymied. The Department of Public Safety had turned to the newly constituted covert agency, the country’s fourth Confidential organization, for help.

It was a case they couldn’t afford to blow. A baby’s life was at stake. More lives might hang in the balance.

“There’s a doctor on staff at the hospital, Dr. Kelley Stanton,” Colleen continued. She slowly drummed one finger on the table as if using the rhythm to remind her of the facts. Her hands were blunt nailed and work roughened. She owned this ranch, which, Shawn knew, had been in her family for generations.

“Dr. Stanton is a suspect in the arson,” Colleen went on. “She was involved with treating the flu patients, including two elderly people who died. You’ll have access to her by working at the child-care center, since she has a three-year-old daughter who goes there. Rumors around the hospital suggest she set the fire to hide her negligence in treating those patients.”

“A pretty nasty allegation,” Shawn noted.

“That would be ugly enough,” Colleen agreed. “But if Wiley’s right and there’s some relation to the kidnapping, this Dr. Stanton could be more than a quack who wants to hide some mistakes. She could be helping to cover up an act of bioterrorism as well as the kidnapping. And Wiley isn’t wrong very often. So…?” She looked directly into Shawn’s eyes and paused.

Colleen was waiting for his assent. “Yeah,” he said. He knew he would regret it. He also knew he had no choice.

“Good.” Colleen rose. “I’ll get things set up. You’ll start in three days.”

A SHORT WHILE LATER, Shawn left the others behind and stealthily oozed his way from behind the huge, movable wine rack that hid the door to the secret basement room. He had to think about this new assignment. Prepare himself for it mentally.

He headed upstairs, into the plush room that had once been the bar. One of Colleen’s ancestors had once run the Royal Flush as a saloon and bordello. The room maintained the flamboyant ambiance, complete with sexy red velvet curtains. It still housed the original long bar of dark pine, which had obviously been well polished over the many intervening years. The faint, pungent-sweet scent of fine wood preservative hung in the air. The ranch’s caretakers, Raven and Melody Castillo, took great care of the place.

Too bad the room wasn’t still used as a bar. Shawn could have used a drink. A good, stiff one.

Behind the bar was a portrait of a woman, who seemed out of place in the sumptuous and suggestive room— Eudora Wellesley, he’d been told. Colleen’s ancestress. There was nothing flamboyant or even particularly attractive in her appearance. In fact, she was dressed primly, in dark clothes, and there was a set to her mouth as if the lady was shocked by the things that had gone on in this room. And yet, the artist had painted a sparkle into her alert gray eyes.

Grumbling to himself, Shawn headed outside. He wasn’t the imaginative sort. This new twist to his career as an arson investigator turned covert agent was giving him fits.

As he stepped through the front door onto the porch, he nearly ran into Dexter Jones, the foreman. His other boss, for his cover at the Royal Flush as ranch hand.

“You seen Ms. Wellesley?” Dex asked. The foreman was in his early fifties. He kept his hair, obviously once dark but now sprinkled with silver, no-nonsense short. He seemed a no-nonsense guy, dedicated to making sure the ranch ran smoothly.

As smart and wily as tough-acting Dex seemed, the foreman supposedly had no idea of what went on in the basement. But Shawn sensed the man’s strong suspicion that more went on at the Royal Flush than just ranching.

As part of his Colorado Confidential cover, Shawn had to act as if he’d no clue what Dex was talking about when the older man blew off steam by guessing what his lady boss was really up to.

“I saw Ms. Wellesley a while ago,” Shawn told him. “I came in to ask whether she was going to ride Dora today, and if so when she wanted me to have her saddled.” Dora was Colleen’s horse, a mare she’d named after the illustrious lady whose picture hung over the bar. The bay and white paint was a lot prettier, in Shawn’s estimation, than her namesake.

“And she said—?”

“She’d let me know. I think she’s back in her room on the phone. Or maybe she’s getting changed. In any event, she said she didn’t want to be disturbed for the next hour.”

“Right,” Dex muttered, and turned on his heel without entering the house.

If Shawn wasn’t mistaken, the gruff foreman had a thing for his employer. That wasn’t any of Shawn’s business.

But his new assignment certainly was.

Shawn walked down the porch steps and to the side of the main house. He inhaled crisp, clean air tinged with the scent of the nearby horse enclosure. To his left was the winding road to the ranch, and beyond it the meandering South Platte River. To his right were rolling green acres of ranchland, surrounded by the massive, tree-covered slopes of the Rocky Mountains. Some of the ranch’s red Hereford cattle grazed in the distance.

Heaven.

But he wouldn’t be here much longer. In three days, he’d be back in Denver. Investigating Dr. Kelley Stanton. The main focus of his assignment.

Colleen would provide further details first, the results of the initial investigation into the woman and her background as well as information about the hospital fire.

A fire in a hospital, damn it. He felt his teeth grind.

Sure, the fire had been confined to a records room, but who knew what damage it could have done? People could have been killed.

What would drive a woman with a young child to set a fire? Shawn would sure as hell find out.

“OKAY, SWEETHEART. We’re here.” Not that Kelley had any doubt that Jenny knew full well that they’d arrived at the Gilpin Hospital KidClub day-care center. As soon as they went through the door into the main playroom, the blond three-year-old, clad today in a flowered T-shirt and matching red slacks, stopped prancing at her mother’s side and stood still, thumb in her mouth. With her other hand, she clutched Kelley’s midcalf-length black skirt. Tears filled her brown eyes.

Before the fire, Jenny had been eager to come here to play. She had always dashed into the midst of the kids who started their day in this charming room adorned with bright rainbows on the walls. Mostly, the little ones congregated at one of the child-size tables, coloring until it was time for the caregivers to begin planned activities.

But since the fire, her daughter had demonstrated every symptom of separation anxiety—tears, protests and tantrums.

It broke Kelley’s heart every morning. She’d spent days at home with Jenny after the fire, and had taken her to a kind counselor. But Kelley couldn’t stay off work indefinitely. When Jenny had started to recover emotionally, Kelley had returned to her demanding medical practice. Luckily her office was in the adjoining building, and she spent a lot of time seeing patients in the hospital itself. She dropped by often to look in on Jenny, staying far in the background so that her daughter, busy playing, wouldn’t notice her.

Once Jenny got used to being there each day, she seemed to thrive once more, with all the other children to play with and the excellent staff who watched over the kids while teaching them things commensurate with their ages and abilities.

But those first minutes when she dropped Jenny off…

“Good morning.” At the gruff, masculine voice, Kelley raised her gaze from her daughter—until she stared into eyes as blue as a cloudless winter sky. They looked about as cold, too. But the man behind them was one of the most gorgeous hunks Kelley had ever seen.

She felt her face flush at the direction her thoughts had veered. But that didn’t deter her mind from noting the breadth of shoulders beneath an off-white shirt and leather vest, the slim cut of faded brown jeans, the sturdiness of a set jawline and the short hair that was a cross between dirty gold and golden brown. And the cowboy boots.

“Good morning,” she returned, knowing her tone was quizzical. Was he the father of one of the half dozen kids settled at places along the tables? Kelley forced herself not to look at his hands to see if he wore a wedding ring. That wasn’t her business. Besides, a man who looked like him had to be taken. Either that or he had a bevy of beautiful women at his beck and call.

Not that Kelley cared. She wasn’t interested in any man, great-looking or not. In her experience, not one was worth a fraction of the aggravation he caused.

“And who is this?” The man looked down at Jenny, who clutched at Kelley’s clothes all the tighter. The smile on the man’s face looked sour, as if he had sucked on a lime.

“This is Jenny Stanton,” Kelley said, her tone cheerful for her daughter’s benefit. “Are you the daddy of one of the kids?”

“No, I’m the new caregiver.”

What? Kelley stared. He certainly didn’t look like the other child-care providers, who were mostly college-age men and women who studied teaching and needed to earn money in their spare time. A few were career preschool teachers. But this man…?

He knelt in front of Jenny. “My name is Shawn,” he told her. Then he rose. “Shawn Jameson. And you’re Mrs. Stanton?”

No. Kelley nearly shuddered. She definitely wasn’t Mrs. Stanton. That implied she was Randall Stanton’s wife.

She hadn’t been his wife for two years now. And that was fine with her.

It was her turn to force a smile onto her lips. “I’m Dr. Kelley Stanton,” she told the man. “I’m one of the doctors on staff here.”

Was it her imagination, or did Shawn Jameson’s straight, thick brows dip just a little before he resumed his uncomfortable smile? “Very nice to meet you, Dr. Stanton.” He stressed the word “doctor,” but it did not sound like an apology. She hadn’t expected one, but neither had she expected to be subtly insulted.

Didn’t he like doctors? If so, he shouldn’t be working in a hospital, even with children. Especially with these children, since many were doctors’ kids. But maybe she’d imagined his inflection.

“Good to meet you, too,” she clipped out, then knelt, gently extracting her skirt from Jenny’s hand. “Okay, sweetheart. Time for me to go, but I’ll be back for you soon.”

“No, Mommy,” Jenny said in her sweet little girl’s voice. “I don’t want you to go.”

Kelley inhaled, knowing the scene that was to come. Hating it, for she always felt as if she were hurting Jenny. “I have to, honey, but—”

“But we’re going to have a great time here today, Jenny.”

Kelley looked up in gratitude as Shawn Jameson took Jenny’s hand and tried to gently lead her away.

Jenny began to cry.

Shawn’s blue eyes widened. Surely that wasn’t fear Kelley saw in them? He glanced at her as if for help, but she mouthed, “Thanks,” and backed away.

Jenny began to cry even louder.

“Would you like a piece of doughnut?” Shawn asked, gesturing toward a box on the tall reception desk. “Or some fruit?” As usual, the treats had been left there that morning.

Kelley swallowed her objection to his bribing her child with sweets. It didn’t help anyway. Jenny did not calm down.

“Then let’s go color with your friends.” Shawn tugged on Jenny’s hand. The child was no match for the brawny man and followed him, but her sobs didn’t stop. He led her to an empty seat at the closest table and urged her into a chair. “Here are some nice crayons and a pad of paper,” Shawn said. “Would you like to draw something?”

“No,” Jenny wailed, pushing her chair back from the table.

“Well…would you like a cup of juice, Jenny?”

Kelley continued to watch from the doorway, wondering if she should go rescue her child. Or the man. He seemed to be growing panicked. None of the other caregivers were in the room. They were probably with kids in the facility’s other rooms. Or maybe in the kitchen, working on the day’s snacks.

In any event, this did not look good.

“I don’t want juice,” Jenny screamed. “I want my mommy!”

She looked at Kelley. So did Shawn. Kelley took a deep, uneven breath but did not move. If things didn’t improve in a minute, though, she would have to step in.

If she did, if she had to complain about this man, he could lose his job. That might be a good thing, but on his first day? Didn’t he deserve a chance?

Besides, Kelley had enough enemies these days. She didn’t need another if she could avoid it.

But why didn’t he seem to know what to do with the child? Worse, why did he appear so rattled? Surely he had worked with kids before. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been hired.

“Mommy!” Jenny shrieked again, rising from her chair. She looked as if she was about to run toward Kelley, who wondered if she should just leave. Maybe things would calm down when she was gone.

Maybe they wouldn’t.

The other children watched the exchange, eyes huge. The lower lips of a couple began to quiver, as if they might cry in sympathy for Jenny. Or for their own absent parents.

Obviously Shawn noticed, for he looked around nervously.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a pad of paper and some crayons from the table. He looked desperate. What was he going to do? “Do you have any pets at home, Jenny?”

No, Kelley wanted to tell him. Don’t remind her. Jenny wanted a puppy or a kitten. Having a pet was even a recommended therapy to help Jenny recover from the trauma of the fire. But the timing wasn’t right.

If Kelley were a stay-at-home mom, the way Randall had wanted her to be, she would be able to take care of a pet. But that wasn’t reality. It wasn’t what Kelley wanted, either for herself or her daughter. She wanted Jenny to have a strong role model.

Not the kind of role model Kelley herself had had.

“I don’t have no pets,” Jenny told Shawn, shaking her head sadly. But at least she was no longer crying.

“Would you like one?”

It was time for Kelley to intervene. The man couldn’t be allowed to distract her daughter by making her feel bad about other things.

As Jenny nodded in response to his question, Shawn said, “Well, then, you shall have one.”

That was it. Kelley began crossing the room toward them, but Shawn Jameson must have noticed, for he held up one large hand. Kelley paused, but only for a minute. If he didn’t stop—

And then she got it. Kneeling on the floor beside the pint-size table, Jameson used the crayons to sketch on the pad. In a moment, the outline of a fuzzy spaniel puppy took shape, one with big, sad eyes and a lolling tongue. And that with only a few strokes on the paper.

It was an adorable caricature.

“Here you are, Jenny,” Shawn said. “This is your new puppy. And—” he made a few more strokes on the page. A child appeared beside the dog—a child with Jenny’s straight, blond hair and soulful chocolate-brown eyes. She wore a crown, like a princess.

“For me?” Jenny asked in obvious delight. Her tears had dried, replaced by a big, amazed grin.

“For you,” Shawn replied. “But you’ll have to think of a name for the dog.”

“Okay,” Jenny replied, her small brows knit as she gave the matter a lot of thought.

Before she came up with a name, the other kids were crowding around, looking at her drawing. Demanding, “Me, too, Shawn. Please. Me next,” all in a chorus that earned from Shawn Jameson a foolish, pleased grin.

Kelley turned toward the door. No matter what the man’s qualifications, he had obvious talent in one direction. And the kids loved it.

Maybe he would work out after all.

SHAWN WATCHED AS Dr. Kelley Stanton left KidClub.

“Okay, Teddy,” he told the nearest child and began to sketch a kitty-cat, as requested.

Amazing. He had all but forgotten his old ability to draw caricatures. Thank heavens it had come back to him when he’d really needed it. As he’d once really needed it to survive.

“I’ll call my puppy Gilly,” Jenny told him solemnly as he continued to sketch on the pad. “For Gilpin. That’s this hospital.”

“And a damn—er, darned good name that is,” he told her. He knew the hospital had been named for William Gilpin, the first governor of Colorado Territory back in the mid-1800s. A nearby county bore his name, too.

Jenny was a cute kid. Looked like her mother. Shawn had silently evaluated Dr. Kelley Stanton with the eyes of an artist.

And an arson investigator.

She was certainly a woman whose appearance was arresting. And he might have to be the one to ensure she was arrested.

Her auburn hair glinted, as if someone had painted flames through the shimmering brown. Her face was heart shaped, her expression even more solemn than her daughter’s. As if she had forgotten how to smile.

And no wonder, if she set fires for a hobby.

Even if she was innocent of that, she might have treated the flu patients from Silver Rapids improperly, as the current rumors unearthed by Colleen indicated.

Two people had died from that flu outbreak, right here at Gilpin Hospital. Two of Dr. Kelley Stanton’s patients.

Did she know anything about that flu? Its origin? Whether it was actually an outbreak of Q fever, antibodies for which had been found in the blood of sheep on a ranch that had already been investigated by Colorado Confidential?

Finding out might help rescue a child even younger than her own sweet daughter. A child who had been kidnapped, whose mother had caught the flu and whose kidnapping could in some way be related to that very strange epidemic in Silver Rapids.

The lovely Dr. Stanton just might be in the middle of the whole thing.

Lovely? Hell, she was extraordinary-looking. Shawn had an urge not only to draw her caricature, but to paint her.

Nude.

He laughed ruefully aloud.

“What’s so funny, Shawn?” Jenny asked.

“I just thought of a joke.” Yeah. Very funny. He had a very sudden, very real urge to make love to this kid’s mother. A possible arsonist, of all people.

There was nothing he hated more than someone who set fires.

Someone like that had damn near ruined his life.

He turned to little Teddy, who sat at the table beside him.

“Here you are. Here’s your kitty and you, together.”

“Thanks!”

Shawn couldn’t help but feel a burst of pleasure at the honest wonder and gratitude in the little boy’s fervent exclamation.

“Me next,” chorused the other kids.

Shawn started on his next work of art. Maybe he’d found his way to manage this assignment after all.

He’d begun to make friends with little Jenny Stanton.

Now all he had to do was get to know her mother well enough to start asking questions. A lot of them.

And the fact this woman made his fingers itch to touch her… Hell, he’d just have to get over it.

Chapter Two

Despite the bustle of people hurrying by, Kelley walked slowly down the hall as she left KidClub, wondering whether she should go back. Check on Jenny.

Make sure Shawn Jameson remained in control of all those rambunctious young rascals in his charge.

Not that she had any interest in seeing the handsome caricature-drawing cowboy again. But she fretted about her daughter and Jenny’s transition back into day care, today and every day.

No, things would be fine. She had to stop worrying so much.

As if she could. About Jenny or anything else in her life lately.

Resolutely, she picked up her pace.

The scent of fresh paint still hung in the air. The repaired walls were a lighter shade this time, though still a pale peach. After the fire, they’d been smoke-stained and dark, and the place had smelled awful. Most of the signs and fixtures had had to be replaced, too.

She turned the corner at the end of the hall and nearly ran into a cart full of cleaning supplies.

“Hello, Dr. Stanton.”

“Good morning, Juan,” she said to the tall, thin man beside the cart. Juan Cortes was one of Gilpin Hospital’s janitors, a pleasant man in his thirties who always wore a toothy smile beneath his neat, dark mustache. He had a faint Spanish accent. Relatively new at the hospital, he apparently loved kids. Each morning, before most people arrived, he came by KidClub with sliced fruit plus a box of doughnuts, each carefully dissected into several pieces to appease parents’ concerns about too many sweets.

“I saw the treats you left on the desk,” Kelley told him. “Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome again,” Juan said. His grin sobered. “How is Jenny?”

Like the rest of the staff, Juan knew Jenny had been in the child-care center when the fire broke out.

Inside KidClub. That was what Kelley told everyone, to protect her daughter. The fire had at first been called accidental, but the official cause was later ruled arson. So far no one had been arrested. Kelley had no reason to think Jenny had seen what happened, but just in case…

“She’s doing better,” she told Juan, “but it’ll take time before she can put it all behind her.”

“Of course. Well, I made sure I got her favorite today, a twisty glazed doughnut. She can have the whole thing if she wants, not just a piece of it.”

“That’s sweet of you, Juan.” Kelley hesitated. She suspected that providing doughnuts and fruit every day might create a dent in the janitor’s salary. “How about if Jenny and I bring the treats tomorrow morning?”

“Well…” Juan didn’t look keen on the idea.

Kelley did not want to make him feel bad, though she had been meaning to make this offer for a while. “Another day, then,” she said quickly. “You know I always teach her to take turns. If you tell me what kind your favorite doughnut is, we’ll be sure to bring you one. Okay?”

“Maybe next week sometime,” he said without enthusiasm. But he added, “My favorite is chocolate with peanuts.”

“Good. We’ll work out when soon.” She should probably also find out what kind of treats Shawn Jameson preferred, she thought as she continued down the hall.

The way he looked, his preference in treats probably had nothing to do with sweet rolls.

She shook her head. Why was the new child-care attendant so much on her mind this morning?

She turned the corner to the main hallway and glimpsed the back of Dr. Madelyne Younger. The short, platinum-blond cap of hair over the signature purple lab jacket was a giveaway.

Kelley’s own lab coats were light in color. Conservative. Unlike Madelyne’s.

“Hey, Madelyne, wait up,” Kelley called, but not too loudly.

Though this was the administration wing, it was still part of a hospital.

Her voice had apparently been loud enough. Madelyne, an internist who specialized in infectious diseases as did Kelley, turned to face her. She didn’t have the same compunction about raising her voice, which boomed down the hall. “Hey, kiddo, how ya’ doing this morning?”

“Not bad.” Kelley, smiling, caught up with the older woman.

“Not good, either, I’d say.” Madelyne’s narrow face screwed into a frown as she studied Kelley. Lines radiated from the edges of her barely made-up eyes. She gestured for Kelley to join her at the hall’s periphery to let the crowd of hospital staff and visitors pass by. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Kelley moved to the wall and shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing new. It’s just hard to leave Jenny these days.”

“I figured. Are things around here improving?”

Kelley didn’t want to think about that but replied with a sigh. “Not really. All the innuendoes appear to be taking on a life of their own and sneaking into every corner of this place.”

“Remember they’re only that—innuendoes. I was there. I didn’t see you do a damned thing wrong. That influenza epidemic was a beast and a half, and those two older patients who died—well, they simply arrived too late to be helped. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kelley affirmed, unable to stop herself from grinning back at her irrepressible friend. But she’d noticed the way Madelyne had phrased her reply. She hadn’t seen Kelley do anything wrong.

That didn’t mean she would swear that Kelley hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Anyway, there’s nothing—oh, puffballs. There’s the chief innuendo manufacturer now. Just remember the source, kiddo.”

Kelley sighed. Madelyne was glaring over her shoulder, and Kelley chose not to turn to see who she was looking at.

She already knew.

“Good morning, Kelley. Madelyne.”

The stilted masculine voice that had once been the stuff of her daydreams was now one of her worst nightmares.

Slowly, Kelley turned and found herself looking up into the face of Dr. Randall Stanton, cardiologist extraordinaire. Star of Gilpin Hospital’s surgical staff.

And her blasted ex-husband.

Randall wore a lab jacket with as much finesse as most gentlemen wore tuxedos. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, but Kelley, at five foot three, had to look up at him—a fact that suited him just fine. Silver-haired, silver-tongued Randall thrived on adulation the way sports stars did. Though the hallway was broad here, he seemed to take up its entire width with his presence. And of course he wasn’t by himself.

“Good morning, Randall,” Kelley said with forced civility, adding through gritted teeth, “You, too, Cheryl.” Even more than Kelley disliked her ex, she loathed the woman by his side.

“Yeah. Hiya.” Madelyne sounded even less enthusiastic than Kelley.

Kelley’s ex seldom traveled alone, even through hospital halls. His most constant companion these days was his assistant, cardiac nurse Cheryl Marten.

Cheryl was a little taller than Kelley, but she, too, had to look up at her boss. And lover, if Kelley was any judge. Cheryl carried a clipboard—most likely Randall’s.

Other than her height, Cheryl was not at all similar to Kelley. The nurse was more voluptuous and flaunted it. Though she wore an unprepossessing colorful smock over her clean white slacks, its top buttons were undone, revealing a hint of substantial cleavage.

She was probably a year or two younger than Kelley, which made her ten years younger than Randall. She radiated Randall’s air of superiority. More than once an irritated Kelley had itched to remind the woman that she was a nurse, while Kelley was a doctor. But Kelley always swallowed the urge. There was enough animosity between them without giving in to the woman’s obvious baiting. And Kelley knew that, with the esteemed Randall on her side, Cheryl would prevail in any catfight. Even with what she’d done.

Especially since Kelley’s formerly rising star at Gilpin Hospital had lost its luster.

“How is our daughter this morning?” Randall asked, pointedly ignoring Madelyne.

As if you care. Though they shared joint custody, Kelley had primary physical custody, which suited her fine. Randall was supposed to have visitation on certain nights and weekends, but often claimed to be too busy to take sweet little Jenny.

Kelley always made excuses for him, more to soothe Jenny than to protect Randall.

She had done enough of the latter when they were married.

Despite everything, Randall had not admitted to the slightest bit of responsibility for Jenny’s being left behind the night of the fire. Even though it had been his night to care for their daughter, even though his assistant had been the one to sign the child out, he blamed Kelley.

“Jenny’s fine,” Kelley said. “I’ll bet she’d love for you to ask her yourself. Do you plan to take her tomorrow night?”

Randall didn’t answer until he had glanced at Cheryl, whose smile looked forced to Kelley, but no matter. Apparently it had been the permission Randall needed.

More likely, he had just made sure a baby-sitter was available.

“Of course,” his voice boomed. “I can’t wait.”

I’ll bet. “Great,” Kelley forced herself to say.

“Umm—and your caseload these days? Can you handle it?”

“My caseload is growing, Randall.” An exaggeration, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “And my patients are doing fine. Thank you for asking.” You nasty, vindictive jerk.

She hadn’t even been the one who’d demanded the divorce. She’d simply not knuckled under to his insistence that she change her lifestyle to suit Randall and his image.

“See you later, Kelley,” Randall said. “Madelyne.” He nodded toward the other doctor and headed down the hall, Cheryl trailing in his wake.

“Son of a boring snitch,” Madelyne hissed in an under-tone after them, making Kelley laugh despite all the malaise turning ugly cartwheels inside her. “Ignore him, kiddo.” She paused for only a second before continuing, “But there’s someone no red-blooded American woman can ignore. If I could whistle, I’d do it right about now. Who the heck is he?”

Kelley inhaled sharply. She knew just who Madelyne was talking about but didn’t let on. Instead, she turned to look in the direction her friend was facing. “Oh,” she said as she spotted Shawn Jameson coming down the hall toward them. “He’s the new child-care attendant at Kid-Club.”

“Well, damn. If I’d known that, I’d have had myself a kid or two to leave with him.” As Shawn reached them, Madelyne looked at Kelley expectantly.

What could she do but introduce them? “Hi, Shawn. This is my colleague, Dr. Madelyne Younger. Madelyne, this man is a genius with crayons. He staved off an entire room of fussy children this morning by drawing them into submission. Including Jenny.”

“No kidding?” Madelyne said. Kelley was almost embarrassed by the frank way her colleague looked Shawn up and down.

He appeared both amused and uncomfortable. Kelley considered rescuing him, but he did it himself.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Younger, but—”

“Madelyne,” she corrected swiftly.

“Madelyne,” he said. “But I’m off to a meeting. I’ll see you around, I’m sure. And I’ll be at KidClub later when you pick Jenny up, Dr. Stanton.” The look he turned on her with his cool blue eyes seemed to impart a message that Kelley could not decipher.

She wasn’t certain she wanted to.

In fact, she suspected, with the way things were going around here, that even from the new guy on the block, a great-looking man who couldn’t possibly blame her for anything, the message would not be one she wanted to hear.

“SO YOU’VE STARTED working at KidClub?”

Shawn, sitting casually in the small but luxuriously appointed hospital administrator’s office, nodded at Louis Paxler.

The hospital administrator, fiftyish, had a sweep of hair several shades darker than his thin brown brows. It looked real but not natural, probably dyed rather than a hairpiece. He wore a dark suit, and the red tie fastened over his white shirt appeared to lift up the extra flesh beneath his chin.

“I got there early this morning.” Shawn leaned back in the tall leather chair facing Paxler’s mahogany desk. “Marge showed me around.” Marge Ralston, head of KidClub, had no sooner arrived than there was a minor emergency in the kitchen. She had hurriedly left Shawn in charge of greeting the children. The way his credentials had been presented to her, she’d obviously had no concern about dumping that small responsibility on him.

If only she’d known…

Louis Paxler knew the truth—a version of it. He watched Shawn as if trying to analyze him from beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. “Does she suspect who you are?”

“If so, she didn’t let on.”

“Fine. So…who did you meet there?”

Shawn hid his amusement at the administrator’s thinly veiled question. He knew who Paxler meant. He decided to play him for a minute. “Well, there were about a dozen kids. Can’t tell you their names offhand, but I’ll learn them. And—”

“Any of their parents?”

“A couple.” Enough of this game, Shawn told himself. Stringing the administrator along wouldn’t get him answers he needed. “One was Dr. Kelley Stanton.” The lovely, sexy Dr. Kelley Stanton….

“Ah, yes, Dr. Stanton.” Paxler’s tone was decidedly chilly. “I’m not sure how much you know, Mr. Jameson, but—”

“Call me Shawn. And I was told you relayed your suspicions about Dr. Stanton and her involvement with the blaze to the fire department’s Fire Investigation Bureau. Right?”

Paxler nodded, grim satisfaction narrowing his mouth. “Of course, they first thought it was an accident, but then decided it could be arson. They didn’t find enough evidence to accuse anyone, though.”

“And you thought it might be Dr. Stanton? Why don’t you fill me in?”

“Of course, Mr.—er, Shawn. Except…the hospital will still collect on its insurance claim, won’t it?”

“As long as you cooperate,” Shawn assured him. “But if an arsonist is found, the insurance company may be able to recoup the damages.” Which was probably correct, although Shawn wouldn’t have anything to do with that decision. But Paxler had been told only that Shawn was an investigator for Investigations, Confidential and Undercover, a private agency whose nickname seemed appropriate for an inquiry at a hospital. ICU was supposedly looking into the fire for the insurance carrier. The administrator had been told nothing about Colorado Confidential—or that the flu epidemic was the subject of deeper inquiry.

At first Paxler had resisted, but then had agreed to cooperate, particularly after getting an official call telling him that the more helpful he was, the faster the hospital’s claim—already delayed—was likely to be processed.

Colleen had contacts in a lot of useful places.

“Okay, then,” Paxler said. “About five months ago, the hospital was besieged by cases of flu transported from Silver Rapids, a town just north of here. It’s too small to have a major hospital of its own, so the people who were most ill were brought here for treatment. Two died. Older folk who had a harder time fighting off the illness. But…”

“But what?” Shawn prompted.

Paxler stood, pushing aside his desk chair, which appeared too modern to fit with the rest of the ornate furnishings. Shawn glanced around and wondered where the three doors at the room’s perimeter led to.

The administrator walked to a window, peered out as if looking for an answer on the Denver street below, then turned back. His gut made his belt protrude, but he otherwise did not appear heavy. “Look, Shawn. Though I expressed my concerns to the authorities, I didn’t intend to. Not exactly. I mean, if what I fear is correct, the hospital could have liability here. But if I am right… Well, it just can’t happen again. In my position, I simply can’t allow it.”

“And your fear is…?”

“That Dr. Kelley Stanton was negligent in her treatment of those patients. Now, look.” He raised his hands as if trying to halt Shawn, though Shawn hadn’t moved. “I can’t prove anything, but the couple who died, their course of treatment—well, I think the most telling thing is the fire in the records office.”

“It’s why you can’t prove Dr. Stanton was negligent?” Shawn knew the background. But after having met Kelley Stanton, even briefly, he couldn’t believe she was less than an excellent doctor. Yet he had nothing to base that feeling on other than a first impression that had left him wanting to get to know her better. Much better. And not entirely because she was a suspect.

Which meant he had to pay attention to what Paxler said, to steer his irrelevant, unscientific impressions back on track.

Paxler nodded. “I’d begun to make inquiries. Randall… Are you aware Dr. Kelley Stanton was previously married to one of our most esteemed physicians, Dr. Randall Stanton?”

Shawn nodded. He hadn’t met the man yet but he already despised him—the esteemed Dr. Stanton.

What man in his right mind would have let Kelley Stanton go?

Stay objective, Jameson.

“Of course there’s bound to be some animosity,” Paxler continued, “and I certainly don’t know the reasons for their marital difficulties, but since their divorce Randall has hinted that it was at least partly due to his concern over Kelley’s…er, her lack of abilities. At first I chalked that up to hard feelings. I had no reason—then—to doubt Kelley’s skill. But after the deaths I couldn’t ignore Randall’s intimations. I had just begun to conduct an inquiry when the fire occurred.”

“And Dr. Kelley Stanton was aware of the investigation?”

“Of course. I questioned her and began to put together a panel of her peers to look into the situation. I personally don’t have the medical expertise to determine whether the treatment she prescribed was substandard.”

“Would the medical records have supplied the answers?” They might also have contained other answers Shawn needed.

“Possibly.” Paxler resumed his seat and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. “Now we’ll have to rely on Kelley’s recollection of what she prescribed, plus the memories of the attending nurses. Those can get colored by time—and by personal relationships, since Kelley has friends here who might protect her.”

“I see.” And Shawn could see that someone who seemed as warm a mother and as friendly a person as Kelley Stanton could have a cheering section. But looks could be deceiving. And if Paxler was right, the warmth he thought he’d seen in Kelley could instead be a tendency toward playing with fire. Real fire.

Shawn’s jaw tightened. “You’re certain the pertinent records were destroyed?”

Paxler nodded. “When I took over as director five years ago, the place was an administrative nightmare. One problem was the lack of standards for patient records retention. I instituted a procedure. The charts for current patients were kept with those patients. Those of patients from more than a year ago were copied into computer files and stored. But information about patients discharged less than a year ago was kept in the records storage area. There was a procedure for signing them out. The sign-out sheets were kept in another room, and weren’t touched by the fire. And no one had signed out the records for the Silver Rapids flu patients.” He sighed. “I should have kept them myself under the circumstances, but I’d no reason to believe they wouldn’t be safe there.”

“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.

Chapter Three

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.

“Well, damn,” he said to the stark white walls. The television news was on mute. He let the blessed quiet and sense of solitude wash over him, a relief after being surrounded by screaming tots for what seemed forever. He liked it quiet. He liked to be alone.

Oh, the day had gone well enough. Though he was still sweating his cover—dealing with a bunch of rowdy preschoolers—he’d found a method that at least calmed them. Sort of. For a few minutes at a time, though unfortunately not all at once.

After learning to work with stubborn and skittish horses at the Royal Flush, and to use them for herding a few head of cattle at a time, he’d thought he had already gone beyond the call of duty to establish his cover.

Now this.

But damned if the kids didn’t like to draw cartoons. The talent he had thought he’d tucked away forever had come to his rescue again. And the kids were so cute and earnest about it that they’d unexpectedly made him smile.

Other than his short conversation with Louis Paxler, he’d hardly accomplished anything that day to further his investigation. Of course, he had to establish himself and his cover. Only then could he gain people’s confidence, get them to answer questions without suspecting why he was there.

But Shawn’s strong suit was not patience.

And it bothered him more than he wanted to admit that Kelley had turned him down when he’d invited her for coffee.

He’d known rejection. Hell, it had been part of his life, but he’d gotten over it. Still, figuring out Dr. Kelley Stanton and her relationship to the flu and the fire was his mission. That meant he needed to spend time with the lovely physician. Not exactly a hardship—though her presence had already caused part of his anatomy to grow hard.

He laughed derisively at himself. Shaking his head, Shawn reached for the phone on the end table beside the couch. He had to report in.

But before he lifted the receiver, the phone rang.

“Jameson,” he answered.

“You were supposed to call,” said Colleen Wellesley without preamble.

“I was just about to.” He put the soft drink can on the table and leaned forward, alert, ready to talk.

“Right. So how did it go? Did you learn anything?”

Shawn responded in a tone reminiscent of the kids’ chanting. “I didn’t blow my cover yet but didn’t learn much, either. Except for where the potty is.”

“Don’t get smart.”

“Who, me? I take it you’re still at the ranch.”

“Right, though I’ll be at the Denver office later in the week. Tell me about your day.”

He pictured his solemn, serious lady-boss pacing and holding a cordless phone to her cheek beneath the curve of her chin-length brown hair. She had to be in her bedroom or one of the secure rooms in the basement to be talking like this, for she wouldn’t want the foreman, Dex, or the Castillos to overhear.

“Okay, C., it’s like this,” he said. “I talked with the administrator, Paxler, and got a rundown of who’s who and what’s what, at least in his opinion.”

“So he’s still cooperating? Good, but is he helpful?”

“Yeah, a little too helpful—like he’s covering his butt and the hospital’s insurance by pointing fingers where he can.”

“Well, you’ll have to sort out what’s true and what’s butt-protecting. Is that all?”

“No. I’ve met Dr. Kelley Stanton and established a rapport of sorts with her daughter, so—”

“Really?” Colleen sounded incredulous.

“Why did you create this cover if you thought I couldn’t handle it?”

“Did I say that? I just expected it to take you longer to settle in. You’ll have to tell me all about your experience one of these days.”

“Right.” He would definitely not tell her how rattled he remained around a bunch of screaming munchkins. “Anyhow, now that I know the layout and have met some of the cast of characters, I’ve been working on a game plan. I should have more to report next time.”

“Fine, but don’t push so hard that you blow your cover. We need answers fast. Real fast. But we won’t get them if we have to start over.”

“Don’t worry,” he said firmly. “I’m in.”

AS USUAL, KELLEY hesitated the next morning at the entry to KidClub. Jenny was holding her hand tightly. Her thumb was in her mouth.

Inhaling deeply to steel herself for the scene to come, Kelley pushed open the door.

Shawn Jameson, tall and broad-shouldered, looking as confident as if he had always worked there, stood to the right of the entry. Maybe he just appeared confident because he was engrossed in conversation with Marge Ralston, who was obviously hanging on his every word.

A group of kids sat on floor mats in a far corner of the room. A TV on a stand had been wheeled in, and they were watching a public television children’s show.

At Kelley’s side, Jenny hesitated. Kelley felt her daughter’s grip tighten.

Shawn turned away from Marge and looked straight at Kelley as if he had been expecting her.

Which of course he was, as he expected all the kids’ parents. He wasn’t anticipating seeing her in particular.

Still, the way his lips curved slowly into a lazy but welcoming smile made her insides melt. She shook her head to bring herself back to reality.

He said something else to Marge that Kelley couldn’t hear. The facility’s head caregiver continued to gaze at him as if in rapt attention. Then he broke away from Marge and approached Kelley and Jenny.

“Good morning, Shawn,” Kelley said.

“Hi.” He wore no vest today. Instead he had on a navy blue shirt that enhanced the deep color of his eyes. He still looked like a handsome cowboy in his jeans and boots. “How are you both?”

“Fine, Shawn,” Jenny said softly.

“Good. Are we going to have fun today?”

“Can we draw an’mals?” Jenny’s voice quivered, and Kelley braced herself for her daughter’s next tearful farewell.

“Sure,” Shawn said.

To Kelley’s surprise, Jenny let go of her and held out her hand. After a slight hesitation Shawn took it and led her farther into the room. He met Kelley’s eyes over the child’s head.

No separation anxiety today? Kelley was so relieved that she felt her whole face brighten.

Shawn’s return smile was smug but brief. He looked toward Jenny. “You can choose the animals you’d like to work on,” he said. “And maybe one of these days your mama and I can talk about the animals, too.” He raised a light brown brow at Kelley, then turned his back and led Jenny from the room.

Kelley watched with bemusement and delight.

“Wow!” Marge joined her, grinning after the man and child as they walked into the adjoining playroom. “He’s something, isn’t he? Even Jenny is responding to him.”

“He’s something, all right,” Kelley agreed. “He…well, he doesn’t strike me as the typical day-care worker. Do you know his background?”

“Sure,” Marge replied. “He was in the military—army, I think. He got out after a couple of hitches and is now in college studying child psychology. He wants to work with kids, so he’s here earning a little money and learning about children on a school internship.”

“I see,” Kelley said, though she was puzzled. He didn’t seem the type. But obviously she was wrong.

Maybe one day she would take him up on that offer to have coffee in the cafeteria—so they could discuss his drawing talent, and the way he worked with kids.

Now, though, it was time to leave the child-care center.

This morning seemed to be the start of a good day.

IT CONTINUED THAT WAY, too, for a while.

She ran into Juan Cortes, who gave her a hearty, “Good morning.” She’d noticed the usual treats in the KidClub, so she thanked the janitor but reiterated her offer to bring some soon.

Next, she passed hospital administrator Louis Paxler on his way to his office. He actually managed a civil greeting.

Then the day began to deteriorate. She saw her ex-husband at the nurse’s station talking with Cheryl Marten. They both seemed engrossed in conversation, and Kelley attempted to slip by unseen.

No such luck. “Good morning, Kelley,” Randall said in his usual contemptuous, booming voice.

A couple of nurses seated behind the tall U-shaped desk looked up in interest. Damn. They had an audience.

“Good morning,” Kelley said neutrally.

“Which patients are you seeing here today?” Randall had turned to face her. As usual, he was dressed immaculately in a pristine white lab jacket, a stethoscope around his neck. His silvery hair was combed as perfectly as an actor on a set playing a doctor’s might be.

None of your business. “A couple of influenza cases and an infection.”

“Take care that they survive,” he said in mock concern.

Kelley’s chest constricted. She’d done all she could to help those poor influenza patients who’d died several months ago, yet she knew Randall was a major source of the rumors that she’d messed up.

She’d told herself over and over that he was wrong.

But if so, why did so many people listen to him?

“They’ll be fine, thanks, Randall,” she said coolly, not rising to his bait.

“I’m sure,” he said.

Cheryl smirked over her shoulder. Kelley could have smacked her. She was the one who had left little Jenny alone the night of the fire, then had lied about it. Implicated Kelley.

“If something happens to them,” Cheryl said, “I’ve got a friend in the fire department. I’ll alert him that our records department is in jeopardy again.”

Oh, Lord. Kelley had heard that more than once, too—that she’d set the records room on fire to destroy the charts that would reveal what she’d done wrong in her treatment of those patients.

There was just one little flaw to that reasoning…but she hadn’t revealed it to anyone.

For one thing, it would have sounded defensive.

For another, she would be revealing something that she actually had done wrong.

Without saying another word, Kelley hurried down the hall toward her first patient’s room.

And ignored the murmuring behind her.

THAT EVENING, AS HE prepared to leave KidClub for the day, Shawn was damned disappointed.

Of course he would be. He’d been trying to think of a way to talk to his chief suspect, Dr. Kelley Stanton, alone, and she hadn’t been the one to pick up her daughter.

He should have been pleased that he’d gotten the opportunity to meet her ex-husband.

The condescending ass. Randall Stanton hadn’t been alone, either. Nurse Cheryl Marten had been with him.

“I’m going to leave now, Shawn.” Marge Ralston’s vivacious voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned. “Are all the kids gone?”

She nodded, and her dark curls bounced round her pretty, animated face. “Yes, we’re the last ones here.” She looked cute, cleaned up without the usual kid-proof smock over her knit top. She hesitated, then said, “I’m going to grab a bite to eat on the way home. Care to join me?”

“Another time.” He flashed her a friendly smile. She was a chatty woman, and he figured he had already gotten from her all she knew about the flu epidemic and the fire in the records room.

Which amounted to zilch.

“Okay.” She looked disappointed. But though she would probably be good company, he knew better than to date someone when on assignment.

Unless she was part of the assignment. Like Kelley…

“You’ll lock up when you leave?” she asked.

He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

He wasn’t ready to leave the hospital yet. He needed more information, and not just reports generated by people officially on the investigation, no matter how competently they had handled it so far. He needed to get a feel for what had happened.

It was what he was good at.

Yet it had been awhile. He would have to prepare himself for what he would find. What he wouldn’t find. And the way his own damned gut always twisted into knots at arson fire sites.

Once he was sure Marge was gone, he headed down the empty hall.

SINCE THE FIRE, Kelley hadn’t trusted Randall to pick up Jenny when he said he would, though she called to remind him.

As a result, she found herself on her way to KidClub late that evening. Later than anyone should be there.

As late as it had been the night of the fire, when Jenny had been there alone….

“No,” she whispered aloud. Her daughter wouldn’t be there. Though Randall had manufactured an excuse for not having retrieved Jenny himself that night, surely not even he would be stupid enough to forget about her now. Or to send his beloved, lying assistant Cheryl to fetch his daughter.

In any event, Kelley would make certain no one was around.

That no one had left Jenny.

When Kelley reached the closed door of the child-care center, she tried it. It was locked. She stood still and listened, just in case. She heard nothing from inside. No whimpers from outside. No menacing crackles or crashes.

Except… There was a noise from the direction of the former records center.

Even after six weeks, the area was still cordoned off with yellow tape demanding that no one enter. Kelley had heard that, though experts on fire and water damage repair had made recommendations, reconstruction would not begin until the fire department and the insurance company gave the go-ahead. The walls, or what remained of them, were covered by plywood sheets. One sheet was now a door, kept locked at all times.

But Kelley had heard a sound from that area.

Could the arsonist have returned to the scene of the crime?

Not likely, but someone was there.

Carefully, she crept down the hall.

And stopped. Inhaled sharply. The door was ajar. Slowly, quietly, Kelley ducked under the yellow tape. Without opening the door further, she looked inside.

A man with a flashlight stood in the middle of the damaged but otherwise empty room. He didn’t move. In a moment, when her eyes adjusted to the dimness, Kelley could make out who it was.

Shawn Jameson.

What was he doing here? The psych student hadn’t even worked at Gilpin at the time of the fire. He couldn’t be the arsonist. Could he?

She watched for a long moment. His shoulders were hunched, as if he was in pain. He remained very still.

She wanted to approach him.

He aimed his flashlight at the blackened floor. Knelt and touched it. Inhaled deeply, as if absorbing the now-faint odor of burned building materials and paper.

Though she felt immobilized, Kelley must have made a sound, for he abruptly stood and stared right at her.

She took the offensive and pulled the door open farther. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” he countered. At first, she thought she glimpsed raw fury in his eyes. But it must have been a trick in the dimness, for his gaze was flat.

“I heard something and thought I’d better check it out,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said. “I heard about this fire in the news a few weeks back. I was curious, so I figured I’d take a peek.”

His words were light, but Kelley sensed something behind them. Frustration? Anger? Pain?

Definitely lies.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to get that cup of coffee now, would you?” he asked.

To her surprise, she wanted to say yes. And yet—she felt a pang of unease. “Maybe tomorrow,” she replied noncommittally. When it would be daylight. Plenty of people around.

And she would have had time to prepare herself for a conversation with this very disconcerting man. There were some questions she definitely wanted him to answer.

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed. “See you then, Kelley. It’s okay to call you Kelley, isn’t it?”

She nodded automatically, then wished she hadn’t. Being on a first name basis with Shawn eliminated a barrier between them. One she suspected she would miss.

He brushed past and left her standing there, alone in the burned out, empty room, lit only from the hallway behind her.

Tomorrow? She didn’t really need those answers. She could always make up an excuse to put off their meeting. Put it off forever.

Yet she wondered, as she hustled out the door, if she would.

NIGHTTIME.

The arsonist stood alone, outside the administrative wing of Gilpin Hospital, and looked up at the stars.

It was better to look at them far from here, without the bright city lights of Denver interfering. There were a lot of fascinating things in the sky that couldn’t be seen here.

But Denver was still home.

And on this side of the building, at this hour, there were few office lights to disturb the darkness.

The arsonist liked the night, even here. When ambulance sirens weren’t shrieking to herald yet another serious case requiring emergency attention, the area around Gilpin Hospital was quiet, with only traffic sounds interrupting the stillness.

This was a time when things could be done in darkness.

Without being seen.

Like setting fires, when necessary.

Fires like the very successful one that had destroyed the Gilpin Hospital records center.

That task had been a pleasure as well as a duty. The arsonist had enjoyed watching the room burn, all the while anticipating the money to come for that job.

But several weeks later, the job wasn’t over yet. Too many loose ends.

Like Dr. Kelley Stanton.

There were things she knew. Things she didn’t realize she knew…yet.

But she had to be neutralized, in case she recognized them.

If discrediting her was effective, so much the better. It was certainly the least messy way.

If not…well, there were many kinds of accidents that could occur around a hospital.

The arsonist would keep an eye on her. Listen to her, and to what was being said about her.

Report it, when asked.

And, when ordered, the arsonist would act quickly. Efficiently.

Effectively.

Again.

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