Page 12 of Betting on Lizzie

She only had a profile on one site, and even that was sparse—mostly just pictures of a ginormous dog. That, in and of itself, raised suspicion. Didn’t women her age live on social media and post ad nauseam? He caught himself. That was stereotyping, and he was in the business of facts.

He also had to concede that she seemed somewhat atypical of most women—tough, independent, and no-nonsense. That was what had drawn his attention to her at the basketball game and the bar. So much for his good instincts.

It was too bad she didn’t have a solid alibi. That would have helped immensely.

When she’d said she slept alone, a flicker of something ran through him, but he didn’t take the time to analyze what that something could be. From his investigation, he knew she wasn’t married. And what would he care if she had a boyfriend? Dax made it sound like she got around. Maybe she wasn’t into long-term. Not that he cared. And not that it made any difference to his case.

Midafternoon, Lizzie’s phone blew up with messages. It was on vibrate, but every few seconds, it would skid across his desk, announcing something. The uptick in activity seemed incongruent after complete silence for the last few hours. Even without a passcode, he could see the first line or so of multiple notifications. Text after text, asking where she was and demanding that she call ASAP. He caught the words ambulance, hospital, Dad, and call now! From what he could piece together, it appeared her dad had been taken to the hospital. Her dad. The mayor.

With a sick feeling in his stomach, he called dispatch and asked if there had been an aid call for the mayor. Sure enough, he was being transported to the hospital for a myocardial infarction—the fancy name for a heart attack. Damn it!

He knew Lizzie’s address from the background check he’d done and was at her condo in less than ten minutes. At his knock, a deep bark rang out in warning. Through the door, he heard her tell the dog it was okay and to sit. When she opened the door, her face fell. “Now what?”

“You need to come with me,” Ben said.

Alarm crossed her face. “Are you arresting me?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Sorry. It’s your dad. He’s been taken by ambulance to the hospital. I figured without your phone, you might not know.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she took a step back. Tears filled her eyes. The tough and tenacious woman he’d met a few hours ago almost fell apart in front of him.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Before he could blink, she rushed out the door. He had to hustle to catch up. On the short drive to the emergency room, she sat tensely, gripping her knees, determined to hold it together.

“Do you know anything about how he is?” she finally asked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t. Just that he had a heart attack, and that aid transported him.”

“My uncle died of a heart attack less than six months ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated lamely. In his peripheral vision, he saw she was crying silently, and his heart pulled for her. She must be terrified that the same thing would happen to her dad.

He tried to put himself in her shoes. Or think of her as if she were Maya getting news that he was in the hospital. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and squeezed. She squeezed back and held tight, not letting go until they entered the ER parking lot. He pulled up to the front doors. Without a backward glance, she jumped out and jogged inside. Her family would take care of her from here.

Driving back to the office was hard, with the bricks of guilt on his shoulders. What if her dad passed away? And she arrived too late to say goodbye because of him? Sure, he was just doing his job, but she wouldn’t see it that way. And quite frankly, if that’s what happened, he would carry the burden forever. He shook his head. No sense in thinking like that.

Obviously, she wouldn’t be hiring a lawyer today. She had more important things to worry about. He tried to work on other cases but continuously had to push away the image of Lizzie crying and the feeling of her hand in his.

CHAPTER FIVE

Lizzie ran into the ER and immediately found her family huddled together. Just as they’d done five months ago when her Uncle Pete had been rushed to the hospital for this very same reason. She forced aside thoughts of how that ended, unable to imagine a world without her father in it.

Pushing past a puking baby and a teenager moaning in pain, she made her way to her twin sister.

“Where have you been?” Lucy asked, hugging her. “I got worried.”

“Some jackass from the fire department took my phone this morning. I didn’t hear anything about it until he came to get me.”

“What? Why?” Kate said from behind her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lizzie said. “What’s up with Dad?”

“He was in a meeting at work and just slumped over. They called nine-one-one,” Emma said. “And someone started CPR right away, so that’s good.”

“They’ve stabilized him and will move him upstairs soon,” Lizzie’s mom said. “He might need surgery, but he’s okay for now.” The relief in her voice was palpable.

“Thank goodness,” Lizzie said. Every muscle in her body relaxed a fraction. Between the worry for her dad and the fury for that stupid fire inspector, she was tighter than shoes three sizes too small.

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