The Doctor Prince and the Outsider by Cami Checketts

CHAPTERFOUR

Steffan stood next to the closed door and folded his arms across his chest. He looked from Jensen to … Hattie? The name fit her. He wasn’t a big social media guy, but Jensen had said she was a billionaire and a famous socialite. He could see her being a billionaire—she held herself with confidence and as if she were royalty—but socialite didn’t fit. She was too grounded. She hadn’t threatened him with a team of lawyers, and she was kind and gracious.

But the fact remained that she had blatantly lied to him and obviously didn’t trust him. That stung. Worse, she was wanted for murder. How could this gorgeous and seemingly innocent woman be wanted for murder? No wonder she’d flipped out when she’d heard she was in Augustine. No wonder she’d flipped out when she heard Jensen’s name.

He could smell her dinner. “Did you eat?” he asked.

“No, I did not eat,” she snapped at him. “I was trying to escape—from him.” She pointed at Jensen.

“Is whether Hattie ate or not really our most important issue at the moment?” Jensen asked.

The entire room was so tense you couldn’t slice through it without a butcher’s cleaver.

Steffan wouldn’t let Jensen haul her to prison. “I am her doctor, and my patient has been through an extremely traumatic accident today. She needs her strength, and she needs to rest.”

Hattie shot him a grateful look. Steffan tried to steel himself from falling for her. She was his patient and apparently a wanted murderer. He grasped his stethoscope in his palms, not sure how to proceed.

“Hattie.” Jensen pushed out a breath. “Steffan’s right. Please sit and eat, while we …” He lifted his hands, obviously frustrated. “Figure out what to do now.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, or maybe escape from both of them, but she just nodded, sat on the bed, and pulled the cover off her tray of food—teriyaki chicken, rice, broccoli, a roll, green salad, and a mint brownie.

She glanced up at Steffan. “You weren’t just selling me. This looks palatable, maybe even good.”

He imagined she was used to only eating at five-star Michelin-rated restaurants. “If you would’ve eaten it fresh, it would’ve been better.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged.

Beggars? She probably felt like a fish out of water. Steffan’s heart softened. She was alone, without her vast financial means, and in danger of prison, or worse if the Rindlesbachers were after her. He needed to ask Jensen for all the details of this murder and Hattie’s involvement with Treven Rindlesbacher. The guy was a snake. Steffan remembered the murder of a tourist, Jane Presley, that Treven had been an accomplice to. The Rindlesbacher family had made outrageous claims to the throne over the centuries, so maybe this Treven felt like he was above the law.

From what he remembered, they’d never found the prime suspect in that murder case, and William and Naomi Rindlesbacher kept professing their son’s innocence.

Now Steffan was staring at that suspect—and intrigued by her. Surreal.

“At the moment, I’m at both of your mercy,” Hattie said. Her gaze flitted to Jensen, standing a couple feet away from Steffan. “Detective Jensen. I am so sorry that I came back to your country. After what you did for me last time …” Her lip looked to be trembling, which seemed very un-Hattie-like in Steffan’s brief experience with the tough, sassy woman. “Rescuing me after Jane’s murder.” She shuddered. “I would never willingly go back on my promise to not return.”

Neither of the men corrected that he was Chief Jensen. Steffan felt a jolt of apprehension. Jensen always did the right thing. Always. He was a straight arrow. If he’d helped Hattie escape when he was a detective but made her swear never to return, would he have to do the legal thing now? As the Chief, it wouldn’t be only aiding and abetting an escapee—it would be conspiracy.

“I tried paragliding,” Hattie continued as Steffan’s mind spun with questions and worries. “I blame Franz. The wind was vicious, and we were separated. Apparently, I crash landed in Augustine. I loathe that I’ve put you in a bad situation again. If I had my cash or credit cards, I would heavily compensate you for everything you’ve done. I promise I can do that after my money is restored.” She gave a cautious smile.

Jensen’s brow furrowed. “Don’t.”

Steffan’s stomach dropped. Hattie needed to proceed cautiously. Jensen was already on edge, and Steffan had no clue if he’d arrest her or drive her to the border and leave her there with no money or help.

No. Jensen was a good man; he wouldn’t desert a woman in need.

“Sorry. I won’t.” Hattie swallowed and nodded. “At this moment, I am simply begging you, from the goodness of your generous heart, to help me escape like you did last time. Please.” She looked from Jensen to Steffan.

Who was Franz? Not that it mattered. Jensen had helped her escape. Jane Presley’s murder. Had she really been involved…?

“No way you were the murderer who escaped after Jane Presley’s murder,” Steffan said.

Jensen shot him a look, and Hattie cringed and poked at a hole in her fitted workout shorts. The tension ramped up as Jensen slipped his hand in his pocket. Going for his cell phone? At least he wasn’t reaching for his gun. He closed his eyes and shook his head. If Steffan knew his friend at all, he was struggling with an internal battle.

“She was framed,” he said to Steffan, a muscle working in his jaw. “Treven Rindlesbacher tried to frame her, but she’s innocent and I have to do the right thing.”

The words hung in the air. Hattie slumped against the bed in relief. “Thank you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Jensen nodded. “Please eat, Hattie, and I’ll fill him in.”

Hattie’s eyes flashed with concern. “Nobody knows about any of this, but me and you and whoever the older guy was. Is it fair to drag him into it?”

“You can trust Steffan, and we’re going to need his help. The Rindlesbachers are growing edgier than ever. If they find you here …” He shook his head. “We need the royal family on our side. I helped you before because of my partner Peter’s insight and insistence and because it was the right thing to do, but I’ve never broken the law before or since. Of course the Rindlesbachers won’t see it that way. This scandal getting out could hurt not only you and my department, but the entire country and the royal family.”

Steffan swallowed. What kind of help was Jensen asking for? He’d give it, but conspiracy to cover up a crime? Aiding a wanted woman? And facing international scandal and putting his medical and royal reputation on the line. What if it hurt his family? If the Rindlesbachers got a hold of this, they could claim there was no limit to the corruption of the royal family line of August. Corruption at the highest level. Corruption even in regards to the most heinous of crimes.

He had no idea what to say or do, but an innocent woman going to jail for murder because of the scheming of the Rindlesbachers could not happen on his watch.

Hattie’s gaze met Steffan’s. “Will you help me? Can I trust you?”

Everything inside him softened. He understood why Jensen had willingly risked everything five years ago. Steffan would do what he had to do to protect Hattie and do the right thing, even if it wasn’t the legal thing. She was so regal, he felt like he should bow before her and ask for the favor of her trust, for the honor of protecting her. Like a knight of old protecting the innocent and beautiful princess from the scheming sorceress Morgan Le Fay. It kind of fit as he pictured Naomi Rindlesbacher—seemingly kind and benevolent, but evil and manipulative clear through, a pathological liar who would do anything to further her husband’s position and get her son out of prison.

“I will help you, and I promise you can trust me.” Steffan said it like an oath. Should he bow to her, go on one knee?

“Thank you,” she breathed out, leaning her head back against the pillow and looking him over with those captivating deep-brown eyes. “You do seem the trustworthy type. Handsome, honorable, princely doctor and all of that. You could be a knight of old.”

Steffan could only stare at her. Had she read his mind? He liked her description of him. He liked her. But if she’d been semi off-limits as his patient, she was completely off-limits as a woman wanted for a murder she didn’t commit, who needed to evacuate his country before she put everyone he loved at risk.

“Okay, Detective … I mean Chief Jensen. Spill the story while I try to eat.” She gave Jensen a weak smile and cut a piece of chicken.

“Hattie was visiting our country with her friend Jane Presley,” Jensen said to Steffan. “They met Treven and some other locals dancing.”

Hattie nodded, chewing the bite of chicken, but her eyes flashed with anger and resentment.

“Treven convinced Hattie to help him rendezvous with Jane in a quiet spot down on the river walk.”

“He convinced me he was interested in my friend but too shy to ask her to meet him,” Hattie murmured, her voice full of emotion as opposed to Jensen’s level, clinical explanation. “Jane was a sweetie, innocent and kind …” Her voice broke, and she focused on her food, stirring her rice with her fork.

Silence filled the small room. Steffan wished he could comfort her. “You could only get Treven as an accomplice?” he murmured to Jensen.

His friend nodded. Steffan could only imagine how all of this had burdened Jensen over the years. The true murderer framing an innocent woman. Jensen breaking the law to save her. Insane.

“Accomplice?” Hattie bit out, obviously overhearing him. “He killed Jane in cold blood. I led him right to her, then I stepped back to let them have their moment. Before I could turn away, he’d stabbed her with a knife through her heart.” Her voice rose, and tears formed in her pretty brown eyes. “Then he looked back at me and laughed. ‘I won the dare’, he said.”

Steffan’s heart thumped out of control. He stepped closer to the bed. “How did you get away from him?”

“I didn’t,” she said, plucking at the hem of her pink T-shirt. “I screamed for help and tried to run, but nobody was around. He tackled me, knocked me out, and then positioned me holding the knife and lying on Jane’s dead body.”

Steffan had seen a lot of horrific things in his days in the emergency room, but the picture she painted … his stomach turned over.

There was silence for a few beats.

“Hattie,” Jensen said gently. “I helped you before, and I’ll help you again.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she murmured, but she didn’t sound okay. She speared a piece of broccoli and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly.

“How did you keep her from being prosecuted last time?” Steffan asked Jensen, trying to remember the case.

“An anonymous call alerted us to the murder. I’m assuming it was from Treven but I’ve never been able to prove it. Peter and I were close by. We found Hattie lying on Jane and woke her up. She frantically told us her story. Peter searched for Treven but couldn’t find him. He had more experience with the punk than I did. Treven had bullied one of Peter’s teenage boys. He’d injured the kid badly—broken bones and the kid lost a kidney. He was lucky he survived. Even as a detective Peter hadn’t been able to get any charges to stick. You know all about the Rindlesbachers, but recently Macey discovered that William is sneakily pushing his ‘claims’ to the throne, and he was the largest contributor to Prime Minster Shule’s campaign.”

“Henry’s?” Steffan reared back. No way was Henry Shule, one of his family’s closest friends and the prime minster of his country, involved with something nefarious like cleaning up crimes for a punk like Treven simply because his family had a lot of money.

Jensen shrugged and lifted his hands. “I’ve spoken to Shule and … I’m not saying he’s involved in helping them, but I’m telling you, the Rindlesbacher’s tentacles are deep. Ray and I are afraid they’re working on their schemes full time.”

“My family rules this country,” Steffan bit back. “Nobody’s dirty tentacles better be staining our country or sweeping assault of a teenage boy and murder of a female tourist under the rug because of connections or money.” He glanced at Hattie. She was chewing a bite of roll, looking reflective.

“Money moves a lot of mountains it shouldn’t,” she said softly.

She would know. She was a billionaire. How had she become a billionaire? He wanted to know so much more about her, but he couldn’t get involved. This was a mess.

“I wasn’t involved in the case with Peter’s son,” Jensen said. “I’m only sharing it so you understand why Peter was so willing to take Hattie’s side and help her, and how fortuitous it was that he was with me that night.”

“I thought it was all you that helped me,” Hattie said quietly. “I remember an older gentleman listening to my story, but then he left pretty quick.”

“Peter will carry the secret to his grave,” Jensen said, “but he fully supported me spiriting you out of the country. He knew how deceitful Treven was.” He focused on Steffan. “We wiped all the prints clean and didn’t take her to the police station. We never told anybody we found anybody there besides Jane.”

Steffan’s eyes widened. Jensen was always a straight arrow. Always. He’d taken a huge risk to protect Hattie without even knowing her.

“I just knew it was the right thing to do.” Jensen said quietly. “So I drove her across the border and made sure she got on a train in Bern.”

“And told me never to return to Augustine or I’d get charged with murder.”

Jensen nodded grimly. “To protect you from the Rindlesbachers ever finding you. Of course Treven kept screaming that a woman had killed Jane, not him. Luckily, he didn’t know Hattie’s name.”

“I sometimes make up names,” Hattie said.

“Like Angelica?” Steffan asked.

“That was on you.”

“Good thing you didn’t tell him your name originally,” Jensen said. “Though now he has his cell wallpapered with photos of you.” He raised his eyebrows at Hattie.

Steffan’s neck tightened.

“That’s gross and terrifying,” Hattie murmured.

Steffan agreed.

“Sorry,” she continued. “It is near-impossible to stay incognito as a gorgeous billionaire heiress.”

She didn’t sound sorry, and her sassy line made Steffan smile despite the seriousness of the moment.

“I’m sure,” Jensen said drily.

“Honestly, as the years have passed and nobody’s connected me to Jane’s murder, I figured as long as I stayed away from Augustine, I’d be okay. But here we are.” Hattie twisted her hands together, and Steffan could only imagine how scared and guilty she’d felt over the years. Was the billionaire playgirl life she lived a cover to hide her pain? It didn’t fit her in his mind, but what did he really know about her?

“We were able to get Treven on ‘accomplice’ to murder because of some locals testifying that they saw him dancing with Jane and some teenagers testifying that they saw him running from the river at the right time. He got ten to fifteen years. I put a bug in his lawyer’s ear to claim insanity so nobody would believe him about this woman who’d murdered Jane. He certainly seemed insane, and his story was all over the place. Once he figured out who Hattie was he started screaming to anyone who would listen that the billionaire beauty Hattie Ballard had murdered Jane. It made him seem even more insane. His parents jumped at the insanity plea, and he’s served his time with more privileges but luckily no freedom yet. I pray every day he won’t get released. I doubt he’s learned any lesson. To murder a woman on a dare? I’m sure it’s only the tip of the iceberg in the crimes he’s committed.”

Jensen had risked a lot to keep Hattie safe. He was a great man, but Steffan was still shocked. Helping a murderer get an insanity plea instead of somehow proving it was cold blooded murder had to grate on his friend. Jensen had done it to protect Hattie, and Treven must have done an effective job covering his tracks with the murder.

Hattie showing up here was a huge mess for Jensen, especially if the Rindlesbachers or any of their lackeys caught wind of it. No wonder she’d acted so off and lied about the amnesia.

“The question is…” Jensen looked at Hattie, then Steffan. “Will you help me smuggle Hattie Ballard out of Augustine for the second time and keep her safe from the Rindlesbachers?”

Steffan should’ve hesitated. He was a prince and a doctor. He had a level of responsibility to his family, his country, and his hospital above all others. But he understood why Jensen hadn’t hesitated to help her five years ago. It was the right thing to do.

He nodded.

“Hattie … will you promise once again to never return? I’m sure you’re leery of Treven, but his parents are the bigger worry. Until he’s released.”

“I promise,” Hattie said. “I am never paragliding again and I will stay far, far from your borders. Thank you both for helping me. I know what you’re risking for me.” She looked between the two of them.

“It’s what we do,” Jensen said, winking gallantly, some of his normal teasing returning.

Steffan looked at his friend and wondered if Hattie was interested in him. Jensen was a hero, and this was the second time he’d risked himself and his career, even compromising his strict moral code, to rescue her.

Jensen gave him a sly look. His friend could easily be the one to take Hattie somewhere safe. He was giving Steffan the chance because he knew Steffan was interested in her.

It couldn’t matter. She’d just promised never to return to Augustine. His family, his life, and his career were all here.

“Steffan, let’s have you discharge Hattie and inform your nurses that I’ll escort her out. I’ll give your nurses a story about how I’m taking her to the station to run prints and discover her identity while you run to your house, change into some nondescript clothes, and grab hats and sunglasses for you two,” Jensen said. “Then we’ll meet in the parking lot of the Open Green and I’ll tell you the plan.”

“What plan?” Steffan asked. The Open Green was the city park that extended from the River Walk and bordered the Traverse Cemetery.

“Oh, I’ve always got a plan. It’s just finding somebody willing to implement it. Luckily, today the CMO of our esteemed hospital masquerading as a handsome prince is willing to help.”

Jensen grinned, and Hattie even smiled. Steffan’s gut churned. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed so quickly to help Hattie escape his country. She really wouldn’t return again? There went any hope of dating the beautiful fugitive. Steffan would never leave his country for good, and she could never return.