Private Affair

by Rebecca York

  “No.”

  “If you want to help, give me some information I can use to solve this murder case.”

  “Check out Masters and Larson,” Max said in a weary voice.

  “You’ve just named two upstanding citizens—with no proof they’re involved.”

  “Everyone who’s died has been an upstanding citizen. Let’s assume the killer fits right in,” Olivia answered.

  Hamilton turned to Max. “I guess this will keep you out of the action for a while,” he said, then exited the room.

  “Nice guy,” Shane muttered sarcastically, then said, “We should let Jack have a turn visiting.”

  “Yes,” Olivia agreed. She bent and kissed Max on the cheek. “I’ll be up to your room as soon as they tell me where they’re taking you.”

  “You should let the guys take you to the safe house,” he answered.

  She shook her head. “You know I can’t do that. I’d be climbing the walls.”

  He sighed. “I didn’t think you’d agree.”

  She and Shane stepped into the hall and started back to the waiting room.

  “Getting out of here would be the safest thing for you,” Shane said.

  “Not an option.”

  “Then one of us will be here while you are.”

  “Thanks.”

  In the waiting room, they met up with Jack and told him about Hamilton’s visit.

  “Yeah, I saw him come sailing in like he owned the place,” he said. “Did he have any information on the murders?”

  “No, he wanted to harass Max,” Shane answered.

  “How did Hamilton know we were here?” Olivia asked.

  “I guess he’s keeping tabs on you.”

  “I wish he’d keep tabs on Troy Masters and Tommy Larson.”

  “Maybe he will, but he’s not going to share that information with you,” Jack said.

  “We can hope.”

  Jack went back to visit with Max, and Shane and Olivia took chairs in the waiting room.

  “So you were down here looking for a witness to an old murder?” Shane asked.

  Olivia told him about the visit to Julie and her encounter with the two high school or college boys.

  “And what hard evidence do you have that it was them?” Shane asked.

  “Are you trying to outdo Hamilton?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to find out why you’re so sure it was one of those guys,” Shane answered.

  “Because the party was on Cinco de Mayo. And the murder was on Cinco de Mayo.”

  “That wouldn’t stand up in court.”

  “Max also showed Julie pictures of some boys from the Donley class. She picked out Troy and Tommy,” Olivia said.

  “That’s more like it.”

  “We promised not to involve her, but now that we’ve got something solid, we think we can figure out which one it is. And why. We still don’t know what triggered this killing spree.”

  Shane nodded. “He’s a good investigator.”

  She was grateful for the chance to talk about Max.

  “I didn’t know what to expect from him at first. Now I know he’s good—in so many ways. Ways he doesn’t even realize.”

  “You’re good for him,” Shane said, switching subjects abruptly.

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. He’s been pretty closed up as far as women were concerned, but it’s obvious he cares a lot about you.”

  She flushed. “You can tell?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I care a lot about him, too. The question is, can we work things out?”

  “You mean, can he deal with your celebrity status?”

  “I may be giving that up,” she answered.

  Shane looked shocked. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve figured out that life is short, and if I don’t grab some of the good stuff, I’ll wake up one day and find out I’ve missed my chance.”

  “I came to a similar conclusion,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I found the right woman, and I’ve never been happier.”

  They were interrupted when Jack returned with the news that Max was being moved to room 321.

  While they were sitting in the third-floor waiting area, they saw Max wheeled out of the elevator, then down the hall to his room. All of them watched the attendants come out, then gave Max a few more minutes before going down the hall. He was lying with his eyes closed, but they blinked open as soon as he realized he wasn’t alone.

  “We didn’t mean to wake you,” Olivia said.

  “I wasn’t sleeping.”

  “We’ll check in on you after a while,” Olivia said.

  Max looked at his friends. “Want to help me to the bathroom?”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” Jack asked.

  “Better than peeing in bed.”

  “Hospitals have ways to take care of that.”

  “I’d rather get up,” Max answered.

  Olivia withdrew from the room and went back to the waiting area. It was several minutes before the two Rockfort men came back.

  “You were discussing the case?” she asked.

  “Briefly,” Max replied.

  The two men sat down without elaborating. Olivia wanted to press them for information, but she was pretty sure they would have given it to her if they thought it was important.

  “One of us will be with you all the time in case Masters or Larson shows up,” Jack said.

  She nodded, knowing the precaution made sense.

  “Plus, we’re keeping an eye on Max, in case that Davidson guy figures out where he is,” Jack added.

  Olivia clenched her fists. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “Max told us he cut Davidson, so maybe he’s not in the best shape to attack again,” Shane said.

  “Or not yet,” Jack added.

  “You think the Baltimore PD is looking for him?” Olivia asked, not expecting much after their experience with Hamilton.

  “Max said that before we talked to him, a Baltimore city detective showed up in the ER and took a report from him. It was someone named Will Ryker, a guy Max knew from his time on the force, and he was a lot friendlier than Hamilton. I think that if Davidson is in Baltimore, Ryker will get a lead on him.”

  “But since Davidson knows Max worked with the Baltimore PD, maybe Davidson realizes this is a dangerous place to hang around.

  “We can hope.”

  Shane left the waiting area, and Olivia and Jack stayed where they had a view of Max’s room. A couple of times she got up and went down the hall to see how he was doing, but he was sleeping, and she returned to Jack.

  ***

  The Masked Avenger lurked in the hallway, thinking that the hospital was a perfect place for death. People here were sick or injured. You could kill them and nobody would know it hadn’t been God’s plan.

  He laughed. He didn’t believe in God, of course. Or the devil, or anything metaphysical beyond the fact of human existence. This was a one-way trip—from birth to death. You weren’t going anywhere but into the ground after you died, and you’d better make the most of your life while you were here. Get all the money you could. Live well. Eliminate people who got in your way. Never regret your decisions. Tip the odds in your favor.

  He’d started learning those lessons back in nursery school, playing in the sandbox of all places. His dad had gotten him a little dump truck, and he’d been happily scooping up sand and dumping it out when another kid named Sammy had asked if he could play with the truck. The Avenger had refused, and the kid had gone away. Then a half hour later, a teacher had marched out and hauled him into the office. Sammy had been there, with a scrape on his cheek and a triumphant expression in his eyes. He’d told the teacher that the Avenger had hit him with the dump truck.

  It wasn’t true, but when the Avenger had protested, the teacher had said Sammy had the mark on his cheek from the attack.

  There had been no way for the Avenger to convince the te
acher of his innocence. She’d taken away the truck and barred him from the sandbox for a week. He’d been humiliated and sad and furious. But he’d bided his time. And when he’d had a chance to surreptitiously push Sammy into the path of a kid who was swinging, without getting caught, he’d done it. Sammy had gotten hit in the head and gotten a much bigger injury than the one he’d claimed from the truck attack. And the Avenger had gotten a lesson in justice.

  At the age of five, he hadn’t killed the other kid, of course. But he’d understood that hurting people could be an effective policy—as long as you didn’t get caught.

  He’d hit the jackpot when he’d seen Archie Hamilton rush out of the police station and jump into his car. The Avenger had followed him down to Memorial Hospital in Baltimore. It seemed that Max Lyon had gotten cut in a knife fight down in the city.

  What was he doing in Baltimore?

  The Avenger had sneaked into the emergency room and stolen a scrub suit. With one of those caps over his head and a sterile mask over his face when he needed it, it had been easy to blend into the hospital scenery. All you had to do was stride around like you knew where you were going.

  Still, the emergency room staff was small. And it hadn’t been possible to get close enough to find out what Lyon was doing in Baltimore. But this gave him a perfect opportunity to kill Lyon.

  He’d determined that the guy was staying overnight, then found out what floor he’d be on. But it hadn’t been so easy to get close enough to kill him. Olivia was hanging around, and one of his PI friends was on duty with her.

  Fuck.

  But maybe he could change plans again. If he couldn’t get Lyon, maybe he could get Olivia.

  He hadn’t been thinking this was the best place to abduct her. But it looked like she was settling in for the long haul, which gave him time to leave, make some preparations, and come back.

  ***

  The next time Olivia went down the hall to check on Max, his eyes opened when she walked in, and he smiled at her.

  “How are you?” she asked as she came into the room, feeling a little awkward.

  “Much better.”

  “Are you just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?”

  “No. The blood transfusion and the sleep did me a lot of good,” Max said.

  “What about the pain?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. I think I can get out of here tomorrow.”

  “Maybe your doctor should make that decision.”

  “We’ll see.” He was staring at her. “I know what would make me feel a lot better.”

  “What?”

  “Come lie down with me.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m not dangerous.”

  “I didn’t think you were. But it must be against hospital rules,” Olivia protested.

  “Let’s stop playing by the rules.”

  She wasn’t sure if he meant now or in general, but she longed to be close to him.

  Kicking off her shoes, she moved to the side of the bed. “You’ve got a bandage on one arm and an IV in the other. How am I supposed to get in with you?”

  He considered his options. “I guess the bandaged side is better.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah.” He moved over a little, and she eased onto the bed beside him, being careful of the knife wound.

  “Get under the covers so I can hold your hand,” he said in a husky voice.

  Because she was already in pretty deep, she pulled the covers aside, seeing that the short gown he wore barely preserved his modesty.

  Slipping in beside him, she pulled the covers back into place.

  He found her hand and clasped it, and they lay together in the narrow bed.

  For long moments, he didn’t speak. Finally he said, “Almost bleeding out makes you think about your life.”

  She winced at the way he’d put it.

  “Like I told you, I never considered myself good marriage material.”

  “And now?” she asked, her breath stilling.

  “Would you take a chance on me?”

  The question took her completely by surprise. “What are you asking exactly?”

  “Like, would you consider being in a relationship with me?”

  Her thoughts had also traveled in that direction, but she’d had no idea how he felt. Well, she’d had some idea when they’d made love, and afterward, but she hadn’t expected him to come right out and say anything. Or maybe he was having the same reaction as she was. That life was short, and if you didn’t go after what you wanted, you wouldn’t get it.

  She could feel the tension radiating through him and realized it had been several moments since he’d spoken.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “We’d have to work it out. I mean, I’m not moving to New York.”

  “I don’t have to stay there.”

  “If you left New York, what would you do?”

  “One thing I didn’t do was spend all my money, like a lot of people who suddenly start making big bucks. I’ve got a lot saved up—and I had a good investment counselor. And, of course, I’m sitting on a very valuable piece of Howard County property. I have time to think about work.”

  “You’d sell your family farm?”

  “Well, not to just anyone. It would have to be to the right person. Someone who wouldn’t throw up a cheap development where the houses were packed together. And I wouldn’t have to sell all of it. I could preserve some of it as farmland—if Yeager or someone else wants to work it.”

  “Olivia.” He turned his head, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Look this way.”

  She did and their mouths met. He kissed her tenderly, then with more passion. She loved the way his lips moved against hers, the way his tongue teased hers.

  But finally, she forced herself to be sensible and pulled back. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Kissing you is doing me a world of good. I’d like to do a lot more.”

  “Yes. When you’re out of here.”

  It was hard not to go back to what they’d been doing, but she had more to say. “There’s something I haven’t liked about my life—that my looks have been so important.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “And you like that.”

  “Of course, but it’s certainly not the most important thing about you.”

  Relieved, she answered, “And it’s only skin deep, as they say. Plus I’d like the option of being ordinary. I hate always having to be fixed up, even when I’m just going to the grocery store. This is an opportunity to change direction.”

  “Like what?”

  “The best would be finding a job where I could use my mind. Maybe, you know…” She laughed. “I could even go to college and get a degree in something useful.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “I can give myself time to figure it out.”

  A throat-clearing sound from the doorway made her look up. A nurse was looking at them with a quizzical expression on her face.

  Olivia was glad they hadn’t been doing anything besides talking at the moment. The woman cleared her throat again, and Olivia slipped out of the bed, turning away as she pulled on her shoes.

  “I asked for special therapy,” Max said.

  The woman laughed, then began to take his vital signs. “BP is elevated,” she informed him.

  “Shows I’m not dead yet,” Max quipped.

  “I’ll see you later,” Olivia said.

  When she came back to the waiting area, Shane had left and Jack had come in—with sandwiches and tea for her.

  “How’s Max?” he asked.

  “Better,” she said without elaborating. She hadn’t been hungry, but the visit to Max had lifted her spirits, and she settled back into the lounge chair to eat.

  There wasn’t much sense of night and day in the hospital, although maybe there were fewer staffers on the night shift. But finally she looked at her watch and saw that
it was early in the morning. She’d been at the hospital all night, wearing the same clothes she’d had on the day before.

  She glanced over at Jack, who was dozing with his long legs stretched out in front of him. Trying not to wake him, she got up quietly, but he was instantly alert. The way Max would be, she thought, her heart squeezing as she thought about him lying in the hospital room down the hall. She needed to see him, but she felt pretty grungy after her night in the chair.

  “You need something?” Jack asked.

  “I have to freshen up.”

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat and said, “Before you go, we should talk.”

  “About what?”

  “When we were down in Max’s room right after they brought him in, he said he’d like to know you’re in a safe place.”

  “I will be—when he can come with me.”

  “He can’t stay with you,” Jack answered. “You know he’s getting back on the case as soon as he can, because that’s the best way to protect you.”

  “I don’t want him doing anything… foolish,” she answered.

  “He thinks the same about you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t leave here until he does.”

  “You’d ease his mind if he knew you were safe.”

  “Let me think about it,” she conceded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes—and I’ll give you an answer.”

  “Okay.”

  She stopped at the nurses’ station and asked if there were any toiletry articles for relatives who had come to the hospital on short notice to be with a patient.

  One of the nurses brought a plastic bag with some soap, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a disposable washcloth. She went down the hall to the ladies room, which she was glad to find was empty. After using the facilities, she brushed her teeth, then washed her face. While she was making herself presentable, she thought about what Jack had said and also about her conversation with Max while she’d lain in bed with him. Maybe she’d communicated with him more honestly than she ever had with anyone else in her life.

  Then something else struck her. Earlier, when she’d talked to Jerry, she’d remembered how she’d felt after she’d first met him—like Superman had taken her hand and was flying her over New York City. Oh Lord, and now…

  She hadn’t felt that warm glow in years—until she’d made love with Max. Once again Superman had grabbed her hand and taken her flying with the wind streaking through her hair and the ground rushing past below them. Only this was different. It had nothing to do with making it as a model. It had everything to do with her and Max—and the joy they brought each other. He’d said he wanted a relationship, and she wanted that too. More than anything else. And she knew that they could make it happen because they were both as determined as a conquering army.