Hide'n_Go_Seek

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Hide'n_Go_Seek Page 29

by Mayer, Dale


  Her gaze dropped to the table, a sad twist playing at the corner of her mouth.

  He squeezed her fingers tightly. "Listen carefully. I have never felt disappointed or short changed. You measured up in all ways." With his gaze locked on hers, he pulled her other hand free from its lock on the coffee mug and cradled both hands in his much bigger ones. "The truth is I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know who you really were, but I couldn't get rid of the feeling I needed to. That if I didn't have the opportunity to get to know you, my life would miss a huge essential element and I'd feel bereft forever." His thumb stroked the soft skin of her palm. "Last night was special." he admitted with a slow smile. "Better than any fantasy I might have dreamed." He grinned. "But I can't be too sure. We'll have to repeat it and see. Often."

  The sexiest look he could have imagined slid from her eyes and headed straight to his groin. He gulped.

  "Glad to hear that," she whispered softly.

  Staring back down at their entwined fingers, he added sheepishly, "My mom wanted me to call you years ago."

  Kali blinked, shock on her face. "What. You told her?"

  A laugh broke free. "Yes. And she's going to have a great time reminding me. She told me life was precious and if I was really interested, I should call you."

  Apparently having trouble with the information, Kali sat back, shaking her head. "Did you tell her you were working with me these last couple of weeks?"

  He snorted. "Are you kidding? It was bad enough that Stefan knew. My mom is quite capable of driving down here to meet you if she knew."

  Kali laughed. "A lady after my own heart. I will enjoy meeting her."

  "When this mess ends," he promised. He glanced at his watch and raised an eyebrow. "However, if we want to go see Stan, we need to leave - now."

  ***

  They walked through the front entrance of the hospital fifteen minutes later. Grant led her through a set of double doors and into a different hallway. Kali smiled at their clicking footsteps amplified by the empty corridor. Visiting hours didn't start for another hour, giving the hospital a rare serenity.

  Arriving at a large double door, Grant nodded to a guard standing on duty. Grant showed his I.D. to the officer who checked it before moving aside.

  Kali whispered, "Did you set up security for Julie?"

  "Yes, although I doubt the killer would go after her again."

  "Maybe not, but she won't survive a second attempt."

  "And she won't have to." Entering, Kali saw stark white walls, interrupted only by huge sunflowers standing in a vase beside the bed. Stan lay on his side facing the window, the blanket at his shoulders. Grant walked up beside her. The door snicked shut behind them. When Stan rolled over, Kali caught her breath.

  "Oh, Stan." She threw her arms around him in a gentle hug.

  "Hi, Kali." Stan patted her arm.

  Pulling back, it was all Kali could do to stop the tears from spilling over.

  His wrinkled face shifted and reformed into a parody of a smile. "Don't look so worried, Kali. I'm going to be fine."

  Sunshine seeped into the room and fell on Stan's beloved face. Kali sniffled. "Thank heavens for that. I can't take much more. Can you please tell us what the heck happened?"

  "I'm not sure. I'd been working on the computer when I found something odd. I went to the files to check the information. The next thing I know, I'm here in the hospital."

  Studying his face, Kali asked slowly. "Were you alone? Did you fall? Or could you have been hit?"

  Grant stepped forward to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kali leaned into him.

  Stan noted the movement. A slight grin dimpled his cheeks. "Either case is possible. The office door was open, so it's possible someone snuck up behind me." He shrugged. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I didn't see anyone. All I can say is there were lots of people around who had the opportunity."

  It hurt Kali to look at him. His face, normally so full and healthy, looked thin and empty. The wrinkles, usually beaming with life, drooped in layers, lifeless. His countenance was more than a head injury; he looked seriously ill. Kali's stomach knotted at the thought.

  "Listen I'm fine. I just need a couple of days to return to normal."

  "You'd better." She sniffled and swiped her watery eyes.

  Grant took several steps that brought him to the other side of Stan's bed. "You said you found something wrong on the computer and got up to check the information. Do you remember what that was?"

  Stan frowned, his forehead creasing into more wrinkles, if possible. "Not really."

  Changing tracks, Grant reached into his pocket and removed a folded piece of paper. "Do you know this man?"

  Stan, his shoulders shaking, struggled to sit. Kali reached a strong arm under his thin shoulders and helped him into an upright position. "Take it easy."

  "I'm fine." He pulled the bedcovers higher. "Let's take a look."

  Stan reached for the picture. Kali and Grant watched him for any signs of recognition. They weren't disappointed.

  "Christian LeFleur." Stan took another glance at the picture, his face pinching tight before he handed it back to Grant. "Christian pops in now and again. He volunteers for several organizations. He's training a young German Shepherd, with decent success I hear." He glanced up at Kali, his rheumy eyes in pain. "Brad and he were close. I imagine he's hurting right now."

  Kali frowned. "I don't remember Brad mentioning him."

  "He might not have. They were buds, you know, they talked about anything and everything, went and got drunk together - guy stuff. Brad mentioned a couple of times how he appreciated being himself with Christian, unlike with his wife. They shared similar backgrounds, interests, even looks. They also belonged to the same church."

  Kali's frown deepened as she glanced at the picture.

  Stan added. "They used to joke about being brothers. You had to see them together."

  Interesting. It didn't help her place Christian in her mind. Nor could she see Brad's features in the sketch.

  "Christian's an active SARs member, working disasters for over a decade, but he's a loner - and a bit of a ladies' man, come to think of it. Has coffee when he's here, more often than not he takes off with Brad or works alone, if you know what I mean?"

  Pondering the picture, Kali shook her head. "I can't really place him in my mind."

  A half snort came from the bed. "Of course, you're one narrow-minded person when it involves men."

  Grant stepped forward. "What do you mean, Stan?"

  Stan cast a sideways glance at Kali. "Nothing bad. It's just she's blind to men. Many try to catch her eye, but she just doesn't see them. The more obvious they are, the more oblivious she is." With an apologetic look her way, Stan added, "She only remembers men if she has meaningful interaction. Without that, they don't register on her radar. Brad worked for years to be allowed into her inner circle." He reached out to clasp her hand. "She doesn't mean anything by it. It's just her."

  Kali hated the heat rising up her cheeks. "I'm not that bad."

  "There's nothing bad about it. It's your protective mechanism. If you don't see the men and their advances, you don't have to deal with them."

  She gasped in protest. "No one has ever made an advance at me."

  Grant glanced between her and a ruefully smiling Stan, who held his other hand up. "Like I said." To Kali he added, "And there have been many."

  "No way." She shook her head, refusing to believe she'd been that blind. "Let's return to the subject at hand. Christian. What else do you know about him?"

  "Not much. Brad and he loved to debate religious issues. You'd hear them arguing all the time. Both were strong believers, but Christian was worse."

  "Worse? How?"

  "More voluble. The debate was on who deserved to live and die. Restitution, right to life issues. At the time, I'd assumed they were discussing abortion or maybe assisted suicide. I left the room because..." Stan's gaze traveled between the two of them. "Well,
I didn't want to know."

  Kali understood. Stan hated discussion involving politics or religions and he detested girl talk. If any woman opened up on pregnancy, labor or marriage in his vicinity, he bolted. Divorce was the worst topic.

  Tossing a glance over at Grant, she watched in fascination as his eyes narrowed and he stared straight ahead, as if the room faded out of existence. Everything seemed to fade from his awareness. Even his body stilled.

  "Right to life issues fit." She mixed Stan's comments with what she knew regarding the kidnappings and murders. "The survivors cheated death. In his mind they have no right to life. He's helping God by making things right."

  "Any apparent competitiveness or jealousy?" Grant continued. "Did he ever ask you about Kali or want to discuss her?"

  Stan closed his eyes. Kali watched him in concern. They'd have to leave him to rest soon. His skin had taken on an even grayer cast.

  Stan pursed his lips. "He wouldn't have to ask. Her record is well-known."

  "Record?" Grant glanced over at Kali before refocusing his attention on Stan. "Is that like a recovery count? Do you people keep those kinds of records?"

  "Not official records. Like any industry, some people do. Kali doesn't, but her success rate is often commented on because it's phenomenal. The momentum has gotten to the point she can't work a disaster without her peers taking note. Many journalists and politicians follow her progress."

  Grant spun around to stare at Kali.

  Embarrassed, Kali shrugged it off. "I do what I do."

  "And she does it very well," Stan interjected. "The industry has noticed. Honestly, her work is a major reason why the center functions."

  "You hire her services out?" Grant frowned, his brows coming into a v-shape. He stood with his hands fisted on his hips.

  Stan chuckled. "I do, but she doesn't."

  Grant shook his head. "What?"

  Kali sighed. "It's not a secret. I mentioned it before briefly. I work pro-bono and Stan uses the money to keep the center open and running. I don't need the money; however, the world needs the center. Stan does a lot of necessary work on a global level."

  Heat rose on her face. She hated explaining herself. She was hardly a philanthropist, but she didn't need the money, nor did she want to accept payment for helping people in need.

  "Do you get paid to help out on a disaster?"

  "No." Clear cut and equivocal, her voice left no room for doubt. "We pay those costs ourselves. Mostly through donations, government subsidies and contract work similar to what Jarl did for that church. For disasters we have to pay expenses, even airfares out of pocket."

  Grant glanced over at Stan, who nodded. "She's right. To stay afloat, we take on contract jobs. That can be locating graves, missing dogs, people lost in the bush, etc. There's no compensation for helping out on disasters."

  Kali jumped in. "And we don't need any."

  "Before we leave you to rest, have there been any problems with Jarl at the center or on a disaster site?"

  The question blindsided her. She chewed her lips and snuck a look at Stan. He stared back at her, then shrugged.

  "What aren't you saying?" Grant's tone thickened with annoyance.

  Reaching over, she patted Stan's hand. "I didn't consider it before but since you put it that way." Kali shifted back into her chair and pleated the folds in her shirt. "A while back, I thought Jarl might have been stealing from the center. I had no proof, and, honestly I could've been mistaken. I spoke to him about it, and he denied everything. He was quite upset about the whole thing. We had several uncomfortable months before our relationship regained a normal footing." Kali paused. "The thing is...after our talk the thefts stopped."

  Stan spoke. "Until recently."

  Kali started. "What?"

  "I hadn't had a chance to tell you. Just recently I've noticed a few minor problems surfacing. Stuff disappearing, the petty cash empty when it shouldn't be. You know, little stuff, nothing serious, more of an inconvenience."

  Grant glared at the two of them. "And you're telling me about this now?"

  They both shrugged.

  "Christ." He threw his hands up in the air. "You do realize this might explain Jarl's presence in your office?"

  Kali hated feeling guilty. She ran her hands through her hair. "I wasn't thinking of thefts - there were bigger issues like kidnappings and murders, remember."

  "What's the chance he's moved from petty crime to stealing identities or banking information? Presuming, you keep information like that on your computer, Stan?"

  "Aye, I do. And I suppose, given the circumstances, it's possible."

  Both Kali and Grant frowned in sync. "What circumstances?" she asked. As far as she knew, everything was fine in Jarl's life.

  "Jarl's wife is seriously ill, and their medical insurance won't cover her treatments. It's progressed to the point she can't work, so he's actively looking for ways to cover the bills."

  "Shit." Pity hit her. Poor Jarl. She'd have helped him if she'd known. She brightened. Maybe she still could?

  Grant, his cell phone already in his hand, headed for the door. "I'm stepping out to make some calls." He strode to the door. "Be back in a few minutes."

  Kali waited until he'd left before moving to sit on Stan's bed. "You know we found Julie?"

  His eyes lit up. He grasped her hand. "Yes, and thank God you did. The doc said she'll recover. I can't imagine what she went through."

  "She's going to need time. Physically and mentally." Sadness pulled at her. No one should have to go through what she'd been through - and never twice.

  "She's strong. She'll make it." Stan coughed, his voice hoarse and rasping.

  Kali frowned down at him. "Do you need a nurse?"

  Tremors wracked his thin frame. "No. They can't help. I'm feeling my age today."

  "Is there something you're not telling me?"

  A disturbing rattle worked its way up his throat until he coughed and coughed. Kali reached for a tissue and handed it to him. Stan sat, the coughs wracked Stan's thin frame violently. After a few anxious moments, Kali watched his face turned beet red and witnessed sputum spewing. Finally, he could breathe easily.

  Stan slumped onto the bed, taking several deep breaths. "That hurt."

  Kali hesitated, unsure she should pry. "Have you asked the doctors to check you over?"

  "No, they're doing it anyway." He closed his eyes briefly. "The results will take a few days."

  The door opened as Grant entered, his face carved in stone.

  Kali assessed his features. Time to go. Kali stood. "I'll stop by tomorrow." She dropped a kiss on Stan's forehead. "Rest and heal."

  "You take care of yourself." He smiled grimly at the two of them. "Grant, get this guy before someone else is hurt."

  "That's the plan," he answered. He opened the door, his hand on the small of Kali's back nudging her forward. "We'll see you again, Stan. Take care."

  Once outside, she asked, "Can we visit Julie?" The hand on her back eased off.

  He shot her a quick sideways look. "No, I just checked. She's in a coma."

  Kali stopped and stared at him. "Oh, no," she whispered.

  Grant hooked an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into moving forward again. "Her body's gone through a horrible experience. She's injured. She's dehydrated and needs to heal. Her body has shut down to deal with the trauma. It happens. In this case, it might give her a fighting chance."

  "I'd so hoped she would have recovered enough this morning for us to be able to talk to her."

  They walked past the bustling nurses' station and out to his car. As they walked outside, Kali brought up the one question she'd forgotten to ask. "Why would the killer have been in the woods last night?"

  Grant hesitated.

  Kali waited until he unlocked the car. After buckling up the seatbelt, she asked, "He likes to watch them, imagine them dying, doesn't he?"

  Grant looked at her and nodded before turning on the car and backing
out of his parking spot. Once on the main road heading to her house, he spoke up. "Probably something like that. He could have religious reasons for his visits, like enumerating their sins or gloating over what was happening. With a twisted mind, it's hard to tell."

 

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