Thomas pursed his lips. “I don’t like to make snap judgments—I’ve learned my lesson in that regard—but I will say that at this juncture, I am not impressed by Drake’s contribution. What are your thoughts?”
“I’m not sure,” Laura slowly replied. “Phoebe seems to be doing the lion’s share of the work, but perhaps Drake did get delayed trying to travel to the fairgrounds. Being seen by only the individual you’re counseling can be a difficult adjustment for some cadets.”
Peter nodded. “It’ll be much easier on students when we start utilizing the Scan Emitters and invisibility ceases to be a factor. I suggest we suspend judgment on Drake for now. Perhaps his contribution will be more significant by tomorrow.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
That evening, Laura drove to the hospital to visit the Ablemans. Peter was already there when she arrived, and she didn’t need to see his worried frown to know things weren’t going well with Dan and Gil. She hesitated in the doorway as a marital spat took place.
“You know the risks,” Dan said firmly, trying to take Gil’s hand. “You need the antibiotics.”
Gil mulishly pushed his hand away. “If I let them give me IV antibiotics, I can’t nurse Jay.”
“Jay can drink formula. I don’t want to lose my wife! You need—”
As the argument continued, Laura slipped into the room and sat beside Peter. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
“Gil had more tests today, and the results were pretty bad.”
“Should we sneak out and let them talk in peace?” she asked.
“I’ve tried, but when I start to leave, they—”
Peter’s words were cut short by a ringing phone. Across the room, Dan picked up the receiver and said hello. Suddenly, Dan’s worried frown broke into a smile. “Angelina,” he said, “it’s wonderful to hear your voice. Are you still in London?”
“Let me speak to her.” Gil grinned, struggling to sit up. “I wanna hear what she thought of Big Ben.”
“Sis, Gil wants to talk to you. But before I turn the phone over, how’d your concert go?”
Laura watched as Gil’s eyes began to sparkle. “Come on, Dan! Give me the phone!”
Dan laughed. “I’m glad the concert went well. I knew it would. I need to turn you over to Gil—she’s tugging on the phone cord.” His eyes turned serious. “Yes, we got the results back an hour ago. The infection seems to be worsening and so does the fibrillation. It—”
“Shh!” Gil hissed, pulling on Dan’s arm. “You’re gonna scare her! She’ll be hopping a plane the second she hangs up the phone.”
Laura winced as Dan’s voice tensed—Gil had obviously been right. “No, sis,” he said firmly, “you need to finish your tour or you’ll be in breach of contract. Even if you came, you couldn’t do anything to—”
Gil yanked the phone away from her husband. “Don’t worry a bit, Angelina. I’m fine. Super-duper peachy, in fact! If you leave Europe now, you’ll miss Paris, and I want you to buy me an Eiffel Tower snow globe.” She motioned for Dan to sit beside her. “I promise I’m fine. Women have babies every day—it’s no big deal. Now, tell me about London. Did you see the Changing of the Guard?”
Sam and Sue entered the room as Gil continued to chatter. When they heard their daughter was on the phone, they sat down and waited for their turn to talk. It was obvious Angelina was still extremely worried. It took the added voices of her parents to convince her not to fly home.
Almost as soon as Sam hung up, Alex, Dan’s brother, called. After Gil attempted to reassure him, she passed the phone to Dan. While they were talking, Gil showed Laura the blue balloons and huge bouquet of roses that Alex had sent.
Laura buried her face in the fragrant blossoms. “Oh, they’re lovely!”
“Maybe so,” Gil said in an ominous tone. “But read the card.”
Laura read it out loud. “Painting to follow—Love, Alex.”
“Boy, are you in for it!” Peter chuckled.
“Don’t I know it!” Gil groaned. “I love Alex dearly, but his paintings are terrible. Do you suppose I could hang his next one in the garage?”
Laura caught Sue and Sam winking at each other.
“Shame on you all,” Sue chided. “I can’t believe you’re making fun of my baby boy.”
“Baby boy?” Gil gurgled. “Alex is taller than Dan and looks like a linebacker.”
“That may be true,” Sue replied as Dan hung up the phone, “but you’ll discover that your children will always be your babies, no matter how tall they grow.”
Before Gil could reply, Jay cried to be nursed. After Dan made another unsuccessful attempt to convince Gil to call the nurse and start her IV antibiotics, everyone rose to go to the cafeteria.
Gil grabbed Laura’s arm as she passed by. “Stay while I nurse Jay, will you?”
Peter gave Laura a wink. “I’ll bring you a turkey sandwich, and if you promise to be a good girl, I’ll buy you an antioxidant-filled chocolate bar too.”
“If anyone needs to behave themselves, it’s you.” Laura chuckled, pushing him out the door.
Turning around, Laura saw Gil staring at her with a smug expression. She had a sudden premonition that she was in for some serious girl talk. Her suspicions were confirmed when Gil promptly demanded, “Spill!”
“What? No preliminaries?” Laura said, sitting down by Gil’s side. “Just spill?”
“Yep! How’d the first twenty-four hours without friendship goggles go?”
Laura began to blush. “Well, Peter and I aren’t engaged if that’s what you were hoping. But I did notice several things…”
“Go on,” Gil prompted with a smile.
“I’ve discovered that Peter’s courteous, companionable, and that he smells nice.”
“Good.”
“Get that twinkle out of your eye! Peter’s just my friend. I don’t exactly burst into passionate flames at the thought of him. I don’t think I ever will.”
“Why’d you blush then?” Gil smirked.
* * *
After they’d finished eating, Peter took a detour to the candy machine with Dan. As he selected a chocolate bar, he “casually” asked, “Have you ever seen Laura’s hair down?”
Dan leaned against the wall. “Not often.” His brow wrinkled. “Come to think of it, that’s pretty odd. Most women change their hairstyles all the time. I’ve gotta be on my toes and notice when Gil changes her hair, or I’m in the doghouse.”
Peter grunted and pulled the candy out of the machine.
Dan yawned and stretched. “Laura’s style’s always the same—that big bun. I think the only time I’ve seen it loose was when Gil and I took her swimming at the lake.”
“What’d it look like?” Peter asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Long. Fluffy. I didn’t really pay attention. I was watching Gil running around in that little red swimsuit of hers… Why?”
“Song of Solomon 7:5. I keep wondering if it’d apply.”
Dan threw back his head and laughed. “Can I tell Gil?”
“Not on your life! She’d tell Laura, you know she would.” Peter sighed. “I respect Laura too much to let her get hurt. If she doesn’t fit the criteria I’ve been praying for, I don’t want her knowing I thought we might have a future together. It could screw up our friendship.”
Dan nodded. “I’ll keep my mouth closed.” He began to chuckle. “Captive in her tresses? You think so?”
Peter grinned. “It’s a definite possibility.”
* * *
Lurking in the shadows behind a bar, Wade Kingston’s attacker watched as a drunken businessman staggered down the alley toward him. “Come into my parlor,” he whispered, taking a knife from his pocket.
CHAPTER TWELVE
May 24th
Hawking Hall, Washington D.C.
Rubbing the back of his neck roughly, Peter peered at the empty Staging Platform. Shifting in his chair, he stared at his watch and asked, “What’s the status, Zeke?�
�
“There’s still no transmission from Nicki’s house.”
Sighing, Peter turned to Laura and Thomas. “We’ve been waiting for sixty minutes. It’s an official no-show.”
“I wonder what happened,” Laura murmured.
“I wouldn’t worry about it yet,” Peter replied, standing to his feet. “A number of things could’ve prevented Phoebe and Drake from making contact.”
* * *
Dan studied Gil’s pale face—it was set in mulish lines. He knew she wasn’t budging. Sighing, he took her hand. “Gil,” he said softly, “what’s the real reason you won’t start your IV antibiotics?”
Trying to yank her hand away, she snapped, “You know why! I want to nurse Jay.”
“That’s part of it,” he replied, keeping hold of her hand, “but not all of it. We need to face the truth.”
Gil took a shuddering breath and turned her face away.
He gently massaged her palm with his thumb. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too.”
A tear rolled down Gil’s cheek. “It’s just not fair! We’ve tried so hard to have a baby, and now that we finally have a son, I might…”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he finished her sentence, “You might die.”
Gil slowly tightened her grip on his hand. “If I take the antibiotics, they’ll schedule my surgery, and my odds of dying on the table are pretty high.”
“I know, honey,” he murmured, brushing her bangs from her forehead.
Gil struggled up on an elbow. “Why can’t we see if I heal on my own? I don’t want to go under anesthesia and not wake up.”
“You know what the doctor said. You have a seventy-three percent chance of survival if you have the surgery and only a two percent one without it. Every hour we delay, the endocarditis is getting worse and you’re at greater risk for traveling clots. I know you’re scared. I am too.” His voice broke. “B-but we can’t just pretend things are okay. We need to face this before…” Dan’s voice came to a shuddering halt.
“I don’t want to!”
Swallowing back tears, Dan gathered Gil close and buried his face against her neck. He felt her fingers running through his hair. As a strangled sob slipped past his lips, she murmured, “Shh, it’s gonna be okay.”
“It won’t be okay if you don’t let the doctors help you,” he managed to choke out. “Please let them start the antibiotics. I don’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”
Silence fell.
After a moment, Gil said in an unsteady voice, “I don’t have a choice about this, do I?”
He shook his head. “But you don’t have to face it alone. I’m right here. I always will be.” Dan brushed the tears from her face as Gil slowly reached for the call button.
* * *
That evening, Laura drove Peter to Dos Maracas to meet Sam and Sue for supper. As the group walked through the parking lot, the sound of a mariachi band and the smell of mouthwatering food drifted out to meet them.
Laura heard Sam humming as they strolled past fake palm trees lit with twinkling lights. When they arrived at the fountain next to the door, Sam took Sue in his arms and spun her around to the happy beat of the music. Laura watched with a smile as Sue laughed and twirled.
Laura grinned. “You’re both in high spirits. I take it you have good news?”
Sam gave his wife another twirl. “The best! We’ll tell you about it inside.”
As she entered the restaurant, the heavenly smell almost knocked Laura off her feet. Her stomach rumbled loudly as the hostess led them to a table by an indoor waterfall and served them sopaipillas with chancaca sauce.
Over the sound of a strolling mariachi band, she demanded, “Okay, give! How was Gil today?”
“She’s better,” Sue replied in a sparkling voice. “Danny finally convinced her to take her antibiotics, and her new test results were encouraging. If things continue to improve, she’ll have surgery the day after tomorrow.”
Laura’s eyes caught Peter’s. He nodded and looked grim. Together, they made a silent pact not to mention the missed meeting with the cadets. Gil and Dan didn’t need the stress, and there probably wasn’t anything wrong at Nicki’s house anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
May 25th
Hawking Hall, Washington D.C.
“Zeke?”
“I’m sorry, Peter. There simply isn’t a transmission.”
Peter turned to Laura and Thomas. “That makes forty-eight hours without contact.”
Thomas steepled his fingers. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Phoebe and Drake are handling a suicide intervention, not a case of violent crime. The chances of foul play are extremely low. What does that leave us with?”
Laura tapped a manicured finger to her chin. “Possible damage to their game cartridge, a power outage, a broken PlayFest system… Peter, can you think of anything else?”
“Could Phoebe and Drake be having a romantic tryst?”
“I wouldn’t put it past Drake, but I can’t imagine Phoebe being that irresponsible. She seemed genuinely concerned about Nicki’s wellbeing.” Laura hesitated. “Could they be injured?”
“Both of them? At the same time?” Peter shook his head. “That’s highly improbable.”
Laura’s brow furrowed. “I just had a strange thought. Do you think there’s a connection with Wade Kingston’s disappearance?”
“I doubt it,” Peter replied. “We’re talking about two points on the same linear timeline that are separated by twelve years. A convergence of violence is extremely unlikely.”
“Then what’s the most likely reason for no contact?” Thomas asked.
“There’s no way to tell.” Peter stood to his feet. “But during a suicide intervention, injury and criminal violence aren’t probable, and none of the other possibilities are alarming. If we don’t hear from them by tomorrow, we’ll contact Poppa and ask him to send our cadets’ reserve cartridge to Nicki. Giving Nicki the duplicate copy will give us a point of communication so we can discover what’s happening.”
Laura hesitated. “Do you think we should contact Poppa tonight?”
“Tomorrow will be soon enough. More than likely, it’s an overheated cartridge or some other minor inconvenience. We’ll give our cadets a bit more time to resolve the problem. It isn’t as if the possibilities are alarming.”
* * *
Phoebe woke up with a start. Menacing darkness pressed close. She was cold, so very cold. Her cheek was resting on a splintery floor. She tried to move, but she cried out in anguish as the motion caused lightning flashes of searing pain to throb behind her eyes. She tried to raise her hand, but her hands and feet were chained to the floor. Something small and furry ran over her arm. In the blackness, Phoebe began to scream, and scream, and scream…
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The following day at lunch, Laura sat next to Peter at a patio table outside Student Union and said, “Gil looked much better last night, didn’t she?”
Peter grinned and took a bite of his hamburger. “The antibiotics are really working. Dan said he’d call this afternoon and tell us when she’s scheduled for surgery.”
“Could you believe Alex’s painting?” Laura chuckled. “It must’ve cost him a mint to ship it to the hospital. When I saw it leaning against the wall I could’ve died!”
“What exactly was it? A purple mango by a cactus?”
“I think it was supposed to be a baby in a crib.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Peter sputtered. “Well, whatever else Alex’s paintings are, they sure are original.”
Laura looked up from the orange she was peeling. “Want half?”
“Just a couple of sections, thanks.”
Nodding, she passed him the requested bits of fruit. As Peter popped a section of orange in his mouth, Laura hid a grin. All semester, she’d been campaigning for him to eat healthier. At first, it had been a battle of wills, but lately…
Laura passed Peter s
ome carrot sticks and sighed with satisfaction when she noticed he was munching them and letting his fries become cold. “What are we going to do if Drake and Phoebe don’t make contact today?” she asked. “Do we tell Dan and Gil?”
“Not with Gil’s upcoming surgery. Dan definitely doesn’t need the added stress.”
Cutting her pita sandwich in two, she handed half to Peter. He began eating it, leaving his hamburger abandoned in its puddle of grease.
Licking dressing from his fingers, Peter said, “I don’t want to worry them over something that’s probably as harmless as a wet game cartridge.”
Laura put a juicy strawberry in Peter’s free hand. She hid another grin as he ate it and licked his lips afterward. Casually, she put broccoli florets, red bell pepper slices, and a cup of ranch dressing in the middle of the table. She felt a heady rush of victory when he began to dip and eat.
After he finished chewing, Peter leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I know it’s probably nothing, but…” His hazel eyes fixed on her face. “Laura, if something’s wrong, we need to decide now how we’ll proceed. The semester’s over and most of our professional surfers have left the city. If we have a real problem on our hands, we’ll need to recall a team or handle it ourselves.”
“Considering the uncertainty of the case, I’d prefer to handle it ourselves.” She hesitated. “But what will we tell Dan and Gil? They’ll expect us to be at the hospital when Gil has her surgery. They’ll be hurt if we aren’t there.”
“What if we invented a conference?”
Laura handed him some cheese and nuts. “Would any type of conference rate higher than Gil?”
Peter shook his head and devoured a hunk of cheese.
“What if we said my mother had an accident, and I was needed at home?” she asked. “If we told them you were going along to help me out, I don’t think they’d bat an eye. A family emergency’s something they’ll understand—especially right now.”
Peter nodded and munched a few nuts. “Thomas could relay our excuse and be the go-between. We could blame lousy cell phone reception and downed power lines to cover the fact that we aren’t calling. Your mom still lives in the mountains, doesn’t she?”
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