Luke Adams Boxset 1

by Dawson, H A

  ‘We’re happy,’ he said carefully.

  ‘I’m pleased for you. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head these last few weeks.’

  ‘I’ve not been that bad. I agree I might have been a bit preoccupied at times.’

  Raising an eyebrow, she gave him a disbelieving look.

  ‘You’d be the same if you’d been in my position.’

  ‘If I was in your position, I’d be very worried.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  Appreciating her discretion, he watched her lift the mug to her mouth. ‘I know you don’t like Sarah, but thanks for not saying anything.’

  ‘As long as you’re sure it’s what you want.’

  Luke averted his gaze.

  ‘Just don’t take any nonsense . . . and be sure of what you’re getting into. Tough times are ahead and a fragile relationship will only complicate everything.’

  ‘You’re turning into a wise old woman.’

  ‘Not so old mister.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. You’re not a teenager anymore . . . past your best.’

  Her foot landed on his shin. He yelped and pulled his leg back.

  ‘I’ll always be at my best.’

  ‘That’s probably true. You spend enough time dolling yourself up.’

  ‘And you don’t appreciate it? Any man who says he doesn’t like a woman looking good is lying.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘Good, because you certainly do. I’ve seen you taking a sneaky look when you think I’m not looking.’

  He shook his head in dismay. She had him wrong; it wasn’t all about looks. Sarah was pretty, but not in the same way as Imogen, nor Crystal for that matter. Smiling, he reflected upon Crystal and her soft voice and gentle fingertips. He should call her, tell her the news and check she was coping.

  His hand hovered on the phone. He caught sight of Imogen out of his eye corner and decided to do it later.

  ‘Oh, I forget,’ Imogen blurted. ‘I never told you. Tim Canning had a large amount of marijuana in his blood. It could have caused the accident.’

  ‘Had he taken it willingly?’

  ‘I asked Angela the same thing. She said not, but she didn’t sound at all convincing. Her voice was trembling. She’s a suspect Luke.’

  ‘Hardly surprising given that she’s involved with O’Riordan and that Tim was investigating it.’

  ‘But killing him is a bit extreme. Couldn’t she just have spoken to him?’

  ‘They didn’t seem to be on especially good terms.’

  ‘Even so.’

  Luke glanced to his phone, urging it to ring. If it didn’t happen soon, they may as well return to the office.

  ‘It could have been Doctor Jerry’s lot who killed Tim,’ Imogen said, drawing back his attention.

  ‘It’s quite possible, but even if he did he’s still going to put the blame onto her. He’s far too clever to be caught. She’s nothing more than a pawn in all this. Very easy to discard.’

  Imogen reached into her handbag for a small mirror and checked her makeup. She was always fussing over her appearance. Not like Sarah . . . or Crystal.

  ‘You said before you knew what was going on,’ she said.

  ‘I think I do.’

  His phone sounded. He jolted and snatched it from the table.

  ‘Is it Sarah?’ she asked.

  He shook his head, his expression excited. It wasn’t Sarah, but it was the call he had been expecting.

  Chapter 34

  Luke turned a corner and saw Jason. His arms were tight across his middle, deep lines were carved into his face, and his mouth opened and shut as though he was speaking to someone. He couldn’t keep still, and paced the floor, glared at the clock, and peered at a door a short distance away.

  Their eyes locked.

  ‘Thanks for contacting us. Are you okay?’ Luke asked.

  Jason’s frown deepened. ‘It’s been ages. What if something’s gone wrong?’

  ‘Have faith. They must have done hundreds of transplants.’

  ‘But he’s so young. His body might not be able to cope.’

  Imogen touched his upper arm. ‘Try to relax. Do you want to tea or a coffee?’

  He shook his head and looked back to the door.

  Amused by his anxiety, Luke sat on a chair and spread his arm across the rear of the next seat. The waiting area was deserted; there were no other patients or visitors and no meandering staff, and bar the padding of footsteps and dulled voices coming from a short distance away, there was silence. In spite of that, energy oozed from Jason, making up from the lack of bodies, and it crippled the atmosphere.

  Imogen was trying to settle him by offering consoling words and gestures, and for moment, it seemed to be working. Jason perched on the seat, directly in line with the door to the operating room, and his stiffness evaporated. However, within seconds, he was back on his feet, with his hands in fists and his arms trapping his throbbing heartbeat.

  Luke had expecting Jason to be bouncing with glee. It was what he had been hoping for, for weeks, if not years, and it would provide his young son with a chance of a future. So why the panic? Given the surgeons experience, it was unlikely anything would go wrong, even considering Ethan’s poor state. Soon, he would have his boy back.

  ‘It will be okay,’ Luke said.

  Jason turned to him and frowned. ‘We don’t know that. Kidneys can be rejected. And even if he gets through the operation he won’t be in the clear. There are no guarantees.’ He puffed out and ran his hands through his hair. ‘He’s still a baby. He’s not strong enough for all this.’

  ‘Children are more resilient than you think.’

  The door to the operating room opened. Jason hurried towards the woman, but she was striding away at double-speed, and heading in the opposite direction. Giving up, his body slumped and he shuffled back to the waiting area.

  ‘They’ve not been in there long,’ Luke said, ‘it’ll be ages yet. Can I call anyone for you?’

  Jason raised his hands to the back of his head and held a glassy expression.

  Had he heard? Luke wasn’t sure, and glimpsed at Imogen, whose beautiful long legs were crossed, and her hand, with painted fingernails, clutched her handbag.

  ‘I’m off to the toilet,’ Jason said. ‘Come get me if anything happens.’ He scurried down the hall.

  Imogen turned to Luke. ‘I’m glad Ethan got his organ before all this blows up.’

  ‘Me too, for Brittany’s sake. She’d feel terrible if the investigation stopped proceedings.

  ‘I agree. Do you think the payment’s made any difference to what has happened?’

  ‘Undoubtedly.’

  ‘You do? Why?’

  ‘I just know it has.’

  ‘But Ethan must have been at the top of the priority list.’

  ‘Yes he was, which is why no one will suspect anything.’

  Imogen reached into her bag for a manicure tool and poked under her nails.

  ‘I just hope that whenever all this explodes Jason doesn’t get into trouble.’

  ‘Will it matter?’ she asked. ‘If Ethan is doing well, it’ll have all been worth it.’

  Luke stretched out his legs. Was that what Michelle had thought? She must have been aware of the illegal goings on, and for whatever reason, killed a man. That was an entirely different to what Jason had done. He had simply let O’Riordan proceed as he normally would, and like countless others, would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for the investigation. The last thing Luke wanted was to get Jason into trouble. He was as much of a victim as the others.

  Jason was moving towards them at a pace. ‘Anything happened?’

  ‘No. Have you spoken to Brittany?’ Luke asked.

  ‘I tried. She’s not been answering her phone.’

  ‘Have you tried her landline?’

  He nodded. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I was told an organ had become available. It’s like a dream come true.’
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br />   ‘Do you know anything about the recipient?’

  ‘No. They never tell us.’ He slumped onto a chair, legs apart and hands clasped. ‘God, I hope he’s all right. I can’t cope with the thought of him in there, all alone. Why can’t they tell me anything?’

  ‘Patience. They will.’

  Jason stood up, headed to the operating room door, and tried to peer through the blinds. It seemed as though he was listening for sounds, but he never said anything, and headed back towards him, scratching and fidgeting.

  ‘It’s not the operation that worries me,’ Jason said, ‘it’s his suffering. I wish he didn’t have to go through it.’

  ‘We all wish things like that.’

  ‘Will he remember anything afterwards?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Luke said, ‘you remember counting down and waking up, nothing else.’

  ‘I’ve heard of people who wake up during an operation.’

  ‘You mustn’t think like that. It’s not going to happen.’

  Jason stuffed his hands in his pockets. ‘Michelle’s scared of operations.’

  Luke’s eyes lit up and he peered at Imogen, who reflected his own sudden interest. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Her bunion. I told her she could have had an operation and she went odd. She was sweating and everything . . . freaked out.’

  ‘She wouldn’t entertain the idea?’

  ‘No, not at all. In fact, not only that, but the other day I saw her, and she’d just been attacked. She needed stitches but refused to go to A&E. I didn’t have the energy to talk her into it.’

  ‘She was attacked?’

  ‘It happened in town. I think someone was warning her off. You know, because of the investigation.’

  ‘Who did it?’

  ‘She wouldn’t say. She wasn’t acting weird . . . telling me to promise to look after Brittany. I didn’t realise it at the time but she was planning on leaving. Whoever did it has scared her away.’

  Luke stroked his cheek and turned to Imogen. ‘Can you ring them, check they’re okay?’

  She lifted her phone from her pocket and tottered along the corridor.

  Luke returned his attention to Jason. ‘How long is it since you’ve seen Brittany?’

  ‘A few days maybe. I’m not sure, I’ve lost track of time.’

  Luke tapped his fingers on his thigh. Michelle could be in trouble, or even Brittany. If whoever had warned Michelle found out it was Brittany who had instigated things, they could have targeted her. He peered along the corridor, looking for Imogen and praying for good news. When she appeared, her expression was non-descript.

  ‘Neither of them answered,’ she said. ‘They could be together.’

  ‘Maybe. But I have a horrible feeling.’

  Luke turned to Jason. ‘Sorry but we’re going to have to go. Will you be okay?’

  His expression was blank.

  ‘Let me know when Ethan’s out of theatre, and try not to worry.’

  Jason nodded, asked them to ask Brittany to contact him should they see her, and continued his pacing.

  It was difficult leaving him. Jason should not be alone at such a difficult time, and he needed the company of family or friends. More than that, he needed Brittany. Fearing the reason for her absence, Luke’s stomach knotted.

  Unsure of how to track Michelle and Brittany down, they strode along the corridor in silence. They could try visiting their respective homes, but he actually didn’t believe they would be there, and surmised, if they were, they would have answered Imogen’s calls. No, they had to be somewhere else, somewhere private perhaps.

  They arrived at the lift and Imogen pressed the button. It was eerily quiet and just a short distance away were darkened rooms. It was a perfect location for hiding someone away, and it was also a perfect spot for a murder. Shuddered at the thought, he scanned his memory bank, searching for the exact whereabouts of Scott Cole’s sudden death. It would not come. He could be standing on the very spot. He glanced up, looking for a CCTV camera, but there wasn’t one there. He scanned the floor for stubborn smears of blood, and imagined the police peering at the body.

  Michelle must have been desperate to commit such a crime. Or had she been wracked with guilt?

  He turned to Imogen. ‘I think Michelle suffers from Tomophobia, a fear of operations. It’s what drove her to kill Scott.’

  ‘But why? That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘It does, it makes perfect sense.’

  The lift arrived and the door opened. Nurse Roberts was exiting.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, ‘have you been to check on Jason?’

  ‘He’s going out of his head with worry.’

  She smiled and stepped around them and started along the corridor.

  Luke called her back. ‘Do you know if Michelle suffers from Tomophobia?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I’m just puzzling over something.’

  ‘I never saw any evidence of it.’

  ‘Do you feel the same fear of operations, if it’s a loved one rather than yourself having the procedure?’

  ‘Maybe to a certain extent.’ She held a pensive gaze. ‘Come to think of it Michelle disappeared at the time of Brittany’s operation. We didn’t see her for a couple of days. It could have been a fear.’

  Luke grinned. It was all falling into place.

  ‘Have you been to see Brittany?’ the nurse asked.

  He gave her a puzzled look.

  ‘She’s had a heart attack. She’s in ward three on the fourth floor.’

  ‘What? I didn’t know.’

  ‘Yes, Michelle brought her in. She was acting strange . . . wouldn’t go in to see her. I don’t think Brittany has had many visitors. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t Michelle go in?’

  Nurse Roberts shrugged. ‘She said she wanted to help her, and I told her she would be by being there, but we seemed to be talking at cross-purposes. To Michelle, helping her was leaving her alone.’ She caught his gaze. ‘There’s nothing so strange as folk.’

  Luke’s jaw dropped, his eyes static and pensive. He hammered on the button to stop the lift, but it had already started to ascend. Frantic, he fled up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and ignored Imogen’s screeching cries. She was trailing, but he had no time to stop and talk. Michelle was in danger, real danger, and he had to find her before it was too late.

  Chapter 35

  When the doctor appeared in the ward and stopped at the first patient, a sickly sensation rose to Brittany’s throat as she tried to calm her quivering body and hammering pulse. The doctor read the notes, scribbled into a notepad, and spoke in a quiet tone to the skinny woman nearest the door. There was little compassion in either her voice or expression, and a definite air of aloofness. The skinny woman, who seemed undeterred by the doctor’s cold demeanour, chatted enthusiastically.

  It was very different from how Brittany felt she was going to respond, and wished she could disappear into oblivion and remain ignorant of her health problems. Urging the conversation to continue and needing to put off the moment, she clenched at her nightdress under the sheets.

  The doctor stepped to the next bed and to the cackling woman, and the two of them shared a brief conversation with the ward nurse. Her medication was failing and they agreed to up the dosage. Then they moved to the next bed.

  Brittany’s heart beat louder and she urged calmness into her veins. One more person and it would be her turn. Starring wide-eyed, and wishing she could scan the doctor’s notes to prepare herself in advance, she sought a replenishing breath.

  After a brief conversation, the accompanying nurse jotted something onto a notepad, placed a strand of short dark hair behind her ear, and then followed the doctor to Brittany’s bed.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘Ready to go home.’

  ‘Your heart has stabilised, and your blood pressure is maintaining a good level.
Your kidney function, though, is not as good as we’d hoped. Your creatinine levels are high.’

  ‘Is it bad?’

  ‘It’s manageable . . . for now. You may need dialysis soon. You need an appointment with your consultant.’

  Brittany froze as the words echoed. Trying to remain upbeat, she told herself she could still live a relatively normal life and would just have to plan her day keenly, but deep within she remained unconvinced. There was nothing normal about being tied to a machine for hours; there was nothing good to be said for taking care of diet and drinking habits; there was nothing nice about feeling permanently fatigued.

  She sucked her knuckle and tried to concentrate on the doctor. Everything was a blur, her words and her movements, and she took nothing in, and remained static and held a fixated gaze. Soon, the doctor and nurse moved to the next patient.

  Slipping a little way down the bed, Brittany’s eyes shut and she remembered her mother by her beside, years previous. The warmth of Michelle’s palm had oozed into her, radiating up her arm as she squeezed. It had provided her with the mental lift she had needed, although at times she had not always been aware and had been a reluctant recipient. She had yanked it free and trapped her hands under her armpits, hiding them under the covers. Brittany had neither wanted Michelle’s company, nor enjoyed the loneliness of her absence, and the agony of the decision-making had created untold turmoil.

  Rarely satisfied with proceedings, Brittany had frequently made blunt accusations, informing her mother she had not visited enough and did not care. Once, in a fit of temper, she told her mother that she could tell that she wished her dead. Swallowing her shame, Brittany pulled the covers up to her neck and silently apologised.

  It was too little, too late and she would never be able to express regret unless her mother had left a forwarding address. Given it was unlikely, Brittany’s heart tightened and tears swamped her eyes. She wanted one more chance to be with her, one more chance to tell her she was forgiven.

  A ward nurse appeared at her bedside, shuffling loudly. Brittany opened her eyes and gazed at the intruder.