Changing Times Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Changing Times

  ISBN 9781419915796

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Changing Times Copyright © 2008 Marilu Mann

  Edited by Briana St. James.

  Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

  Electronic book Publication May 2008

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Changing Times

  Marilu Mann

  Dedication

  To Marilu and Deuel “on the other side”, to Amanda, Ava Marie, Regina and Sharon “still with us”. We love you all!

  Acknowledgements

  With gratitude to Kabao and Conner (who is better known as that “Goofy Bastard”) for being beta readers with awesome suggestions, unfailing enthusiasm for these stories and excellent proofreading. To the members of FTHRW, NYTHEARN, FF&P and MFW for your friendship, encouragement, knowledge sharing and for welcoming us into your fold so handily. To “the Turtle crew” for your help on those plotting weekend trips. JL, step AWAY from the slot machine! Finally, (last but certainly not least) thanks to Briana St. James, our editor.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Limited Corporation

  Author Note

  *Any misspellings or grammatical mistakes are ours and ours alone. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental, really! Our hearts go out to the citizens of New Orleans who are still recovering from the devastating effects of Hurricane Katrina.*

  Chapter One

  “There must be something to alcohol as a survival method.” Dr. Carly Chambers rubbed the back of her neck. A man had tumbled from a French Quarter balcony onto half a dozen other tourists and lived. Just another day at the office for her meant the usual people coming into the emergency room for treatment of overdoses, stab wounds, gunshots, bar fights, domestic fights and your run-of-the-mill tourists who’d had a few too many drinks down in the Quarter.

  The familiar scent of antiseptic hung in the air. The tile floor wasn’t as clean as it could be, but that was partially because it was in desperate need of replacing. One of the joys of working in a state-funded hospital in a town still recovering from a devastating hurricane.

  Carly had returned because she loved New Orleans and the city needed all available medical personnel. The sights, the food, everything about the city had appealed to her when she had done her residency there. She jumped at the chance to work at Charity Hospital, knowing she would be able to practice a wide spectrum of medicine on a diverse group of people.

  Carly loved the fast pace. She loved everything about her work, except perhaps the hours. Anyone who actually liked working twelve-to-fourteen-hour days was really just a glutton for punishment. She’d been lucky during Katrina. Her place hadn’t been damaged other than a few broken windows and some minor water damage.

  Her mood improved when she saw the clock over the nurses’ station. Her shift had ended forty-five minutes ago. Most people were in bed when Carly was ending her evening. Even the most die-hard partygoers were winding down in the hours just before dawn. Carly walked slowly down the corridor of the hospital, speaking to the people she knew or just nodding at them.

  With another yawn, she went into the doctor’s lounge and removed her stethoscope and white lab coat, hanging both in her locker, then securing it with a padlock. As she slung her backpack over her shoulder, she became indistinguishable from the nurses and medical students, all of whom wore scrubs and comfortable shoes. When off duty, she preferred the anonymity of looking like a student rather than a “long coat”.

  Carly paused just outside the emergency bay doors to take a deep breath. Still hot and humid, the air pressed into her lungs as she made her way to the doctors’ parking lot. The night sky was beginning to lighten from navy to denim as the sun pushed carefully over the horizon. Carly stretched, raising her arms high over her head. She stopped mid-stretch as movement off to the side somewhere caught her eye.

  A dark van idled at the corner of the lot where the streetlight didn’t quite reach. Knowing there had been a rash of burglaries in the area and that some of the staff’s cars had been broken into, Carly reached for the zippered pocket of her backpack containing her whistle. Carly knew that the corridor nearest the van’s spot led to the supply room and that particular area of the hospital wouldn’t be occupied or busy during shift change.

  “No one steals on my watch!” she muttered.

  She’d just pulled the whistle out of her backpack when a steely arm wrapped around her middle and a large hand covered her mouth. Her backpack slid off her arm to hit the asphalt with a thud as her feet lost connection with the pavement. Carly froze for an instant, then her self-defense training came back to her. Go for the instep. No, the jerk has me off the ground. Knee? Maybe…Her mind flew through her options.

  Using as much force as she could, Carly drove her elbow straight back, aiming for her attacker’s solar plexus. A slight grunt from him and a stinging pain that shot up her arm let her know she’d made contact. Jeez, is this guy made of concrete? His stomach’s like a wall!

  She wriggled her body as much as she could, clawing at the hand over her mouth with her nonexistent nails and kicking at him. He just squeezed her tighter, almost tight enough to make her black out. Yeah, that’s it, I’ll pretend to pass out, dead weight, good idea!

  Just as she started to go limp, he loosened his hold slightly and let her feet touch the ground. The deepest voice she’d ever heard came from somewhere over her left shoulder.

  “Stop fighting me. Just listen. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you a doctor? Nod or shake your head.” Intense body heat came off the man who was holding tightly to her.

  He was kidding, right? Stop fighting? She wouldn’t agree to that! His brick-hard chest didn’t give any evidence of rapid breathing. It only took her an instant to make her decision. Telling him her occupation might get him to let her go. She swallowed as she slowly nodded her head. Some of the tension left his body, but the hand remained across her mouth.

  “I swear that you won’t be hurt. I need a doctor, so I’m taking you with me. Don’t fight me and don’t try to get away. Do you understand?”

  Although softly spoken, the words had steel behind them. Strangely enough, she believed him. This guy might be big and scary, but she didn’t sense any violence from him. Her innate sense of people had been honed from working on a wide variety of them. Her mother had given up warning her to be wary of strangers and admitted that her daughter had a gift in that area. Carly nodded again to show that she understood, hoping he didn’t know she had no intention of not fighting him or trying to get away.

  The arm banding her body relaxed slightly in reward for her answer. She knew there was very little point in her trying to get away from him right now. He picked her up as though she weighed no more than a child. She tensed as her feet once a
gain swung in thin air. She felt a swoop downward and realized he snagged her backpack as well. The huge man set off for the van effortlessly. Carly prayed that her human nature barometer hadn’t failed her.

  She drank in as many details as she could and cursed her stupid luck to be the only one in the parking lot. If only she’d left right at shift change, but no, Mr. Swan Dive From the Balcony had made her forty-five minutes late for that. From her vantage point, she saw the van. It was a dark red, maybe brown. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting at this end of the hospital. Another man stood by the passenger door, staring at her in what seemed to be shock. Her captor moved toward the sliding door of the van. The other man approached them slowly as though he were nearing a dangerous animal.

  “Are you crazy?” This one had the distinct intonation of a New Orleans native.

  “She’s a doctor. We need her. Did you get everything else?” Huge man’s voice gave away no accent.

  “I got it. But put me on record as not liking this.” This man obviously wasn’t happy about his friend kidnapping her. Carly wasn’t too thrilled with the idea, either.

  “So noted. Now drive, little brother. Get us back to Tony.” Her captor hurried her inside the van and, before she could move, climbed in behind her. He kept one hand on her arm as he closed the door. Stumbling, she fell to the floor. He picked her up and put her on a seat. The driver’s side door opened then closed and the van sped off.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but we need your services and we can’t take a chance on coming into the hospital. I promise that you will be returned unharmed.” The big man’s voice did seem genuinely contrite.

  He’d bound her hands while he was speaking and now he slipped a hood over her head. She felt him fasten a seat belt around her and was grateful for that small concession, at least.

  “You do know that kidnapping is a federal offense, right? I mean, let’s get real here, guys. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone you kidnapped me.” She didn’t think they’d go for it, but hey, it was worth a shot. Sure enough, one of them snorted.

  Carly tried to count the turns they took, but with the hood on her head, she found it hard to concentrate on their route. She hadn’t gotten a good look at either one of them, they’d seemed to know where the shadows were the thickest. Her hands were loosely bound in front of her with a soft cord of some sort.

  Carly swayed with the slight motion of the van. Just as she was ready to plead with them again, the van came to a halt. She heard a vehicle door open, then the sound of another creak, like a garage or warehouse being opened. Voices flipped back and forth for a brief moment, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was being said. The door closed. She felt a steadying hand catch her before she fell as the van jerked forward again.

  This time when it stopped, her kidnapper unclipped the seat belt and guided her to a standing position. A large warm hand engulfed both of hers as she was lifted from the van. She felt what had to be asphalt under her tennis shoes. The crunch of gravel replaced the smoothness of the pavement and then her shoe bumped into something.

  “Step up, Doctor. There are five steps up and then you will be on the porch.”

  Carly followed the directions to find herself on what felt like a concrete surface. She scuffed her shoe to see if she could be sure, but a hand in her back urged her forward. Up a staircase that had a small landing that led to another staircase, Carly knew she had to be on a second floor. She heard a door open and close, a low murmur of voices and then the binding around her wrists was removed. She heard that deep voice again.

  “You can remove the hood, Doctor. Please see to my friend. He’s been shot.” At those words, Carly ripped the hood off. She saw two men supporting a third between them. One of them had to be the man who had spoken. She studied them carefully and quickly.

  Native American and tall were her first two thoughts. He had strong cheekbones and a high forehead combined with long dark hair pulled back from his face, which housed the eyes the color of antique oak. Massive across the chest and shoulders, his dark brown denim shirt bore splotches of darker color. Blood—either his own or that of the injured man he was helping to support. A faint bruise along his left cheekbone and a partially healed cut on his left hand gave evidence of a fight. Given his size, Carly guessed he’d been the one to cart her around. In other words, the chief kidnapper.

  The second man supporting her patient was shorter than both the other two. Carly put him at around her own height of five foot seven inches. His light brown hair matched his eyes. Blood splotches on his clothing made Carly wonder if he’d been in the fight as well. Was that his blood or from his companion? A scowl met her gaze along with a sound deep in his throat that sounded like he was growling softly. Carly shoved aside her swift appraisal of the two men as she turned her attention to the injured man.

  “Why are you holding him up? He should be lying down.” Carly shot a look of disgust at the two supporting characters. Did they really not know any better?

  “He can’t. You may not believe this, Doctor, but he’s been poisoned as well as shot. The bullet was silver, and if he’s on his back, the poison will spread faster.” Huge man seemed unfazed by her ire.

  “Poisoned? How was he poisoned?” Her ER training jump-started. Immediately she began cataloging what she knew of poisons. “Arsenic? Oleander? Strychnine? What?”

  “By the silver,” the taller man spoke as if his words made sense. Carly shook her head as she stepped closer to the injured man. Her feet moved even as her mind told her to stop. Then she looked into those eyes.

  Luminescent eyes with a greenish-gold sheen met hers. Carly shivered. It wasn’t just the color that startled her or the fact that his eyes seemed to be glowing. The pupils weren’t dilated in a known fashion and the intensity of his look sent a warning buzz through her entire body.

  Something else about his eyes nagged at her. She’d seen something similar, but where? A brief flash of a trip to the zoo years ago flipped through her mind. She dismissed it. No time to think about jungle cats.

  She couldn’t pin it down. His black hair—no, dark brown—no, black—no, blue and black—she gave up trying to identify the color, hung long to the middle of his back. When his head tilted forward, it covered half his face. Carly’s training took over as that face reflected the agonizing pain the man felt.

  “Can he sit?” She directed her comment to the tallest man, the one who’d done most of the talking up to now. At his brief nod, she looked around and saw a stool. She jerked a thumb toward it as she hurried to the man’s side, slipping on a pair of those ugly yellow gloves that she pulled out of her pocket. She’d always carried a pair after being the first on the scene of an accident on her way to work one night. With calm efficiency, Carly moved in to examine him.

  “Where’s the injury?” His skin radiated intense heat as she gingerly felt his chest for fever.

  “Stomach.”

  “Abdomen? When? Why isn’t he dead?” She spared a glance at the man who had been answering her questions. Touching her patient again, she wondered if her gloves might melt. He had to be running a very high fever to be this hot to the touch.

  “Missed his vital organs or he would be.”

  The injured man still hadn’t spoken, but his skin was turning an alarming shade of gray. Carly lifted the man’s shirt away from his abdomen. She didn’t flinch at the sight of the entrance wound, but knew she was looking at a very close-range pistol shot. ER had been a good training ground for that type of knowledge. She glanced up at the taller of the two men. “He needs to be in a hospital.”

  Black hair flew around his face as her patient violently shook his head. The taller man rested his hand on the back of his friend’s neck for a moment and the injured man stilled. “No hospital can treat him effectively. Just help him.”

  “How do you suggest I do that? I don’t have any antibiotics, no sutures, not even a bandage. What the hell can I do that is going to be more effective than a hospital?
Are you insane?”

  The taller man made a motion with his head and the other man ran out of the room. He was back almost instantly with what looked like a tray of instruments and bandages. Carly slanted a look at the taller man, who simply shrugged. His somewhat sheepish look was out of place, but it told her more than his words.

  “It was as easy to bring what you would need as it was to bring you. Your boldness was a bonus for us tonight.”

  “Bonus, my ass!” Carly muttered as she cut the injured man’s shirt away and inhaled sharply at the sight that met her eyes. She examined the entrance wound on his abdomen and searched for an exit wound. When she couldn’t find one, she looked at the tall man. “We have to get him to the hospital. I have to get an X-ray. The bullet is still inside him.”

  “You don’t need an X-ray. He can tell you where the bullet is. His body is trying to fight it and you have to help him by removing it.”

  “I can’t remove it without an X-ray. What do you mean, his body is fighting it? And there is no way he can tell me where the bullet is. What is wrong with you people? A man could die here if you don’t let me do my job right.” She tried to speak slowly and distinctly, but knew her frustration was coming through. Was this big guy that dense? How many times could she tell him his friend needed a hospital?

  “Doctor, no one is going to die here tonight if you do what we brought you here to do.” Her head jerked up to meet his steely brown eyes. “You are here and we have what you need. You won’t hurt him any more than he has already been hurt. Just do it. Easy, Tony. Doctor, you must hurry.”

  Carly knew she had already lost valuable time arguing. She had no idea when he’d been shot or how much blood he’d lost. She hurried to help hold the man down as he struggled to sit up. Those oddly bright green-gold eyes focused on her face in a most disconcerting way. Then he spoke.