by JL Wilson
The older man nodded imperceptibly. "We know where you'll be in case we need to be in touch." He gave me a tight, impersonal smile. "Thank you for your cooperation."
Damn. I really didn't want an escort back to Lucinda's house, but I might well have one. I didn't want the cops tangling with whoever was following me. "Happy to help. Now if you'll excuse me." I ducked into the alcove just as Lucinda was sitting up, helped by the beefy orderly who'd stopped me earlier.
"Why are you still here?" she demanded, swaying on the hospital bed.
"I'm here to help you."
"I don't want your help." She reached out with one white stockinged foot. Her pastel patchwork skirt was wrinkled and her jacket was torn. I glimpsed white satin and lace under her skirt hem as she tapped the floor, looking for her shoe. The orderly gave me an exasperated look, then grabbed her flat beige shoes from a nearby chair and helped her to into them, steadying her with his hand on her arm.
"You'd better take my help." I backed out of the way as she and her escort shuffled toward the curtain. "Otherwise you'll be here all night."
"Didn't you call John? I told you to call John." She peered up at me then winced. "My neck hurts. Oh, hell, everything hurts."
I moved to her other side and offered my arm. "Let me take you home. We'll call John and he can come and stay with you. You shouldn't be alone."
"I don't want your help."
"I know you don't," I said patiently. "But swallow your pride just this once and take it."
"Pride's got nothing to do with it." She hesitated then put her free arm through mine.
The orderly nodded with satisfaction. "You just wait right here. I'll grab your purse then I'll get that wheelchair so you can get started on leaving."
"Get started?" she protested, but he was gone.
"There's probably some paperwork." I led her toward the desk that spanned the entrance. "Let's go sit down."
"If I sit down I won't get back up," she grumbled. We inched our way toward the uncomfortable-looking seats. "Can't we just leave? Can't I leave a business card or something?"
The orderly came up behind us, wheelchair at the ready with Lucinda's lumpy denim purse on the seat. "Just have a seat. Won't take just a minute," he assured us. "You wait here and I'll check to make sure your chart is at the desk."
Lucinda sat down with a long sigh. "I don't want to wait." She propped one arm up on the wheelchair and leaned her head on her palm. "Can't we just leave, Nico?"
I extracted one of my Mayo Clinic business cards from the small cache I carried. "Let me see what I can do." I leaned over the back of the chair to look at her. "Wait for me here."
She stuck her tongue out at me. "I'm not going anywhere."
I kissed her on the cheek then moved to the Admissions desk. I jotted my mobile phone number on the back of the business card and handed it to the nurse. "I'm taking Miss Delacroix home," I said in my best Dr. God voice. "She was in Exam Room 4, the car accident case. If there are any questions on her care or chart, call me."
The flustered nurse took the card. "We have forms for her to fill out."
I held out my hand. "I'll see to it." I met the woman's gaze with an implacable stare, restraining a smile when she docilely put the stack into my hand. "Thank you. I'll get these back to you ASAP." I rejoined Lucinda before the nurse could speak.
I dropped the sheaf of papers into Lucinda's lap. "Your homework," I said as we trundled toward the door.
"Sir, I need to take her out." The skinny orderly was advancing on us.
I waved a hand. "I've got it. My car's outside. I'll bring the wheelchair right back." We were through the automatic doors before he could take another step.
Lucinda looked around the entrance. "Where's your car?"
"Around the corner. Hang on."
"What? Oh--"
Anything she might have said was lost in a breathless giggle as I took off at a lope. I pushed her as fast as I dared until we were out of the sight of the entrance, then I slowed. I looked down at her curly hair and slumped shoulders. A rage built that made me speechless. Someone tried to kill her. If I got my hands on the son of a bitch, I'd strangle him.
When we got to the Jag, Cerberus lunged against the doors, barking. There she is, it's about time! What took you so long? Is she okay? What happened? What's wrong with her?
"Shut up," I snapped as the dog pressed against the rear window, his breath clouding the glass into obscurity. I clicked the remote control and the locks released with a thunk.
"Don't yell at him." Lucinda got up, almost falling as the chair tipped and her purse dragged her down. She reached for the door at the same moment I did. Our hands touched. Anger, fear and weariness slammed into me, as though someone had doused me in foreign emotions. She pulled back, but I was there and she ended up leaning against the car door and peering up at me. "What's happening, Nico? Why do I feel like this?"
"Like what?" I moved closer, our bodies just inches apart. I smelled disinfectant, soap and a faint perfume. It was a heady mixture.
Cerberus thumped against the car's window, woofing at us. Come on! Come on, let's get going before we get arrested.
"Damn that dog." I reached around Lucinda and opened the door. She fell as much as slid into the car. I stowed the wheelchair against a street lamp and got into the driver's side.
Cerberus was peering over Lucinda's shoulder as she rooted in her handbag. "Where's my phone? I need to call John and--Ah, here it is." She flipped it open as I started the car. "Damn, the battery's dead. I'll have to call him from the house." She pushed at Cerberus's head, which rested on her right shoulder. "Get back, that hurts."
Who did this? He rested his chin on Lucinda's headrest, peering alternately down at her, then at me. What did you find out? How is she?
"She's fine." I drove out of the parking space, thanking whatever God was watching that we hadn't encountered any more law enforcement. "She's just bruised and has some lacerations. She'll be fine if she rests."
Lucinda leaned her head against the seat and stared at me, her eyes laughing. "Who are you talking to? Cerberus?"
I checked the rearview mirror and sighed with relief. No one was following us, neither good guy nor bad guy. "What happened? Tell me about it."
She looked away, the humor vanishing. "It's none of your concern."
"It is my concern. You're my concern." We were in what passed for Burnsville's downtown district, but the driving didn't occupy my attention since the town only had one stoplight and two stop signs. We drove through the three blocks of shopping and were soon on the dark county road that led to her house. "Lucinda?" I glanced at her.
She stared out her window, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering. "Where's your coat?" I asked, reaching for the heater.
"I didn't wear one today."
"No coat? How come?" Her skirt, blouse and jacket looked like lightweight cotton, although her clothes were so badly wrinkled it was hard to tell.
"Who are you, the fashion police?" She huddled deeper in her seat.
"Fashion has nothing to do with it. I was thinking of more practical things, like staying warm."
"I didn't plan on being stranded by the side of the road. Besides, it's almost Easter."
She said it as though the fact of the holiday should have some effect on the weather. "I appreciate that, but--"
Be quiet, Cerberus whispered. Can't you tell she's upset? You're just making it worse.
I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it without speaking. He was right, damn it. I hated when that happened.
We drove the last mile in silence, Lucinda staring out her window at the empty fields. When I pulled into the drive, she stirred. "I don't know where my key is." She started to fumble for her bag. "I always use the garage door opener."
"Let me check." I got out before she could say anything, turning off the car lights to hide my actions. When the motion light came on, I turned, blocking her view with my body. The lock on her side door wa
s pitifully inadequate and I had it open in a few seconds, going inside and touching the button for the garage door. I rejoined her in the car and moved the Jag forward.
"How did you do that?" she asked as I parked in her garage.
"You must have left it unlocked." I opened the car door carefully. The sedan barely fit in the tight space. I winced when she swung her door open and I heard the soft thud as it hit the drywall on her side of the car. "Let me help you."
"I can manage." She wiggled out of the car then opened the back door. Cerberus snaked out of the car, vanishing immediately out the open garage.
Gotta pee, be right back. His voice faded as he rounded the side of the building.
"Where is he going?" Lucinda started to follow him, barely able to move in the narrow space between car and garage wall.
"He'll be back." I met her at the Jag's trunk and pulled out the food I packed earlier, glad that I remembered it was still there. "Get inside, it's cold and you don't have a coat."
"What's that?" Lucinda eyed the picnic basket askance. "A picnic? You packed a picnic?" She shook her head. "You're the only person I know who would pack a picnic for an accident. You probably packed a bottle of wine too. And wine glasses. Real glass ones, not plastic."
"No, I didn't pack wine. I'm sure you have something we can drink." Now that she mentioned it, I was sorry I didn't pack a bottle. After all that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours, I felt in need of alcoholic refreshment.
"Sure, I've got some wine in a box and some beer."
Wine in a box? Good heavens, I didn't think anyone really drank that swill. She smiled at my expression. "Snob."
"That will be fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Let's get inside and enjoy it. I'll help you up the stairs."
"Quit acting like a mother hen." She sidestepped me and went up the stairs into her house, one step at a time. "Thanks for the ride. You can go now. I'll call John if I need anything. At least I've still got one sibling I can trust." She went into the house and I followed, almost getting hit in the face with the storm door as she swung it open.
"I'd like to help," I said as I entered the kitchen behind her.
"I don't need any help." Lucinda flipped a switch and lights came on over her stove and sink. "I'm fine. You can leave now." With practiced ease, she slipped out of her shoes and into a worn pair of bunny slippers that rested on the rug near the door.
"At least let me get this casserole in the oven," I said, removing it from the picnic basket.
"You're not staying to share it with me."
"Fine. You can enjoy it by yourself." I turned the oven on low and put the dish on the middle rack. "I'll just warm it."
Let me in, I'm done, Cerberus woofed from the door behind me.
I turned to let him in just as two kittens came careening around a corner at the far end of the kitchen, sliding to a comical stop at the sight of Cerberus, who was shaking his fur, his legs splayed out and his huge feet planted solidly in the middle of the small foyer. Hey, guys, he murmured around an enormous yawn.
The kittens peered up at him from three feet away, astonishment plain on their faces. One was a gray tabby and the other orange with a white splotch on his face giving him a harlequin appearance. It's a monster! the tabby shouted.
Mommy! It's a MONSTER! They scrabbled on the linoleum floor, baby claws scraping for traction on the slick tile. Two little furry butts vanished around the corner as fast as they'd appeared. Then I heard loud whispers.
Hey, wait a minute. Let's get big. We'll scare him.
Yeah. Get big.
Cerberus looked up at me. Kids, he said, deadpan. We both looked at the doorway. Two kittens came dancing around the corner, fur fluffed out, looking like pincushions bouncing on precarious needles.
Get away, the orange one hissed.
We've got claws. To prove it, the tabby extended one miniscule paw, tiny foot flexed open, displaying his armament.
Whoa. Cerberus sauntered to Lucinda and pressed against her thigh. You guys are tough.
What's going on? Who's yelling?
An adult tabby cat came around the corner, almost slamming into the kittens, who still menaced us with puffy fur and hiccupping hisses. Get away from my babies, she growled, advancing on Cerberus with maternal intentness. She glanced at me, her green eyes assessing and wary. Who's that? What's going on here?
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Lucinda pushed Cerberus away from her but kept one hand looped in his collar. I almost laughed at the sight. If the dog even budged, she'd be toppled. "Behave yourself."
Yes, ma'am. Cerberus ducked his head once to the mother cat, who inched toward us with a glare that made me take a step back. Be careful, he's a-- And once again he said that indecipherable word.
Really? Curiosity apparently overcame the cat's inherent wariness. Her fur started to relax and she edged closer, sniffing loudly. He smells normal.
What's a--ga--gaj--what is it? The little tabby followed his mother with small, mincing steps, alternately hissing and sniffing. Apparently, he couldn't multi-task yet.
He hears us talk, the mother said. Then she sat down and swiped at her face with her paw. Be careful what you say. The mother turned, almost running over her children. Come along. Time to nap.
Lucinda looked at the doorway where they vanished then to Cerberus. "Leave them alone," she warned.
No problem. He thrust his nose into her outstretched hand. I don't pick on the weak or the injured unlike some people we know who seem to enjoy bullying. He peered slyly at me from the confines of her protection.
I clenched my fists. "He'll be good. Or else."
"That's just so typical of you," Lucinda said as she limped out of the kitchen. I followed her into a long, rectangular living room with a fireplace at one end and a large picture window with no curtains.
"What do you mean it's typical of me?" I walked to the window and looked out. The moon was rising, lights winking in the distance, across empty fields. "Is that Burnsville?"
"You're always threatening him."
"I beg your pardon?" I turned to stare at her.
"You heard me. You're always threatening him." Lucinda joined me at the window. "You can be very mean." Before I could reply to this outrageous statement, she asked, "How did you know I was hurt? How did you get in this house? I know I locked it. I always lock it. I want some answers, Nico."
I knew what she wanted answers for. It had been lying, unspoken, between us since I saw her in that ambulance. But I wanted some answers too. "You're not the only one with questions."
She crossed her arms, her chin raised in defiance. "You first, please," she said in a sarcasm-laden voice.
"I'd like to know if you and Robert Masterson are involved." I felt better as soon as I spoke the words, but I dreaded the answer.
"It's none of your--" Then she hesitated. I waited, my eyes fixed on hers. "No, we're not. We never have been. I told you the truth the other night. Robert and I went out and that's all. Whoever told you we were involved is a liar."
The constriction in my chest eased. "He did."
She tensed then winced, reminded of her accident in that simple movement. "That bastard. I'm sure he did just to undermine our relationship. Either that or Cara put him up to it. I'm pretty sure they're involved."
This confirmed her father's speculation. Her father. Did Lucinda know about him? I pushed that thought aside for the moment. "Do you think Cara would cede her shares in the company to Masterson?"
Lucinda leaned against the window frame. The lights in the distance danced on the cold night air. "Yes, I do." She swung her gaze to me. "Cara would do it just to spite me. She would do a lot of things to spite me."
There it was. My chance. "Cara came on to me and I was stupid." I touched Lucinda's shoulder, afraid of hurting. When she didn't flinch, I tightened my fingers slightly. "Lucinda, I'm sorry. It all happened so fast. I shouldn't have stayed there. I should have gotten up and left."
I expected to see
hurt or anger in her gray eyes but instead I saw an assessing, calculating look. "I'm disappointed, that's all. I hoped you were immune to Cara's charms."
I smoothed my hand over her shoulder. "I am immune," I said softly.
She put her left hand over mine where rested on her shoulder. The psychic connection between us flared to life. I sensed confusion, mistrust and...excitement? "Why is it every time you touch me, I can tell what you're thinking?" she whispered.
I held my breath, not sure how to interpret the tone I heard in her voice. She moved closer. "Can you tell what I'm thinking now?" I asked. My voice was rough and harsh.
"Yes." She slid her hand along my arm until her fingers closed over my wrist. "You're thinking what I'm thinking."
"And that is?"
She tugged me closer. I want to kiss you.
Her whispered echoed in my mind with ghostly reverberations.
Chapter Sixteen
"Nico." Her breathless whisper caressed me, sending waves of heat rushing along nerve endings. Make love to me.
Ghostly words echoed in my mind. How could this happen? How could I hear her voice, so clearly? It was like...
I looked over Lucinda's shoulder and saw Cerberus, watching us from the doorway to the kitchen. She's your True Companion, he said softly. All you had to do was admit it and allow her to talk to you. That's all. He turned away. It took you long enough.
I could tell he was upset. His tail didn't have that jaunty bounce. Then my concerns about Cerberus were lost as Lucinda's arms tightened around my waist. I smiled slowly and she gave me a disapproving look. "What?" I asked.
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"You have the clearest blue eyes."
I drew back. "I beg your pardon?" This comment came totally out of left field.
Her hands slid upward under my jacket to explore my back, sending shivers along my spine. "You do. They're so pale and blue, with that dark circle around them. They're very pretty."
"Pretty?"
"Yes, pretty. You know, sometimes it feels as if you stare right into my soul."
I blinked at her and wondered what it would be like to share her soul. Was that what was happening? I considered asking Cerberus, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.