Song of the Blackbird (Albatross Prison #1)

by DB Michaels

  “Good night, Sam,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  In her sleep, Sam came to her, walking tall and straight, his limp gone, his big brown eyes solemn and watchful. He sat on the rocking chair next to the bed and held her hand, not saying much. Just stayed there, rocking the chair and holding her hand.

  “Why did you have to die?” she asked him toward morning time.

  I guess it was my time.

  “What’s it like up there? Is Mom with you?”

  She’s always with me. Just like she’s always with you.

  “Take me with you. You’re all I have.”

  I wouldn’t say that. Give him a chance.

  “He killed you, Sam. I’m not going to betray your memory.”

  I want you to be happy.

  “Take me with you.”

  I can’t. It’s not your time yet.

  “I miss you so much.”

  I miss you, too.

  “I’m so sorry, Sam. Why did you have to die?”

  The prison’s dangerous, more than you know. Don’t go back there.

  “It won’t be the same without you.”

  So find another job, please. I have to go now.

  “Don’t go.” She squeezed his hand. “Sam, don’t leave me. Stay a little bit longer.”

  I saw Phineas. He’s beautiful, like you said.

  “Is his wing still bent?”

  He’s recovering pretty well. Just like you will. Good-bye, Emma. I love you.

  “No. Sam. Don’t go!” Emma woke up in tears, her hand still outstretched toward the rocking chair. She expected to see Sam sitting there but no, the chair was empty. It had only been a dream. She closed her eyes, hoping to float back into the dream, to be with him again one more time. But her mind remained blank. All she heard was the ticking of the clock and the call of a blackbird heralding a new morning.

  Emma checked the time. Eight a.m. Amazing. She’d slept through the night. The nightmare hadn’t come. Maybe Sam had something to do with that, too. Emma brushed a finger over the urn and made her way into the shower. Why had Sam visited her? The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable but perhaps he was right. He wasn’t all she had. No. She had her career, her job…Riley.

  And perhaps even Maxim, too. It’d be so heavenly to feel his arms around her one more time. She was always cold these days, and he was a living furnace, definitely able to keep her warm. But how could she forgive him for all that he’d done? Her brother was gone because of him. But Sam had told her to give Maxim a chance, hadn’t he? Sam wanted her to be happy. Could she be happy with Maxim? She had thought so once. Ages ago, it seemed.

  Emma turned off the shower and pulled on some jeans and an old T-shirt. Oatmeal didn’t seem as appealing this morning. She took out a pan, poured in a dash of extra virgin olive oil, took two eggs out of the refrigerator and cracked each one on the pan. The oil fizzled and sprayed. She flipped the eggs over with a spatula. An oil drop splattered on her hand, stinging her, but she welcomed the pain. It was better than the perpetual numbness she’d felt for the past week. She pushed her hand under the kitchen faucet, welcoming the rush of cool water that splashed against her skin. She turned off the water a minute later and took out the loaf of bread Charles had brought over before his trip.

  Emma toasted two slices of bread and scooped the two eggs out onto a plate. Good, the yolks were still runny the way she liked them. Next, she poured herself a glass of orange juice. She could do this. It wasn’t hard if she took it one step at a time. Breakfast today. Maybe tomorrow she could try grocery shopping. Her feet still felt as if lead were weighing them down but any little progress counted, didn’t it?

  The buttered bread tasted like sawdust, but Emma chewed anyway. Baby steps. That was what she needed. She cut the eggs into square pieces and forced down ten pieces before her stomach rose in protest. She next tried the orange juice, welcoming its sweet fresh flavor as she sipped a few mouthfuls.

  It wasn’t the entire meal but it was enough. More than she’d eaten the whole day yesterday. Emma put plastic wrap around the plate of eggs and placed it in the refrigerator. She was about to do the same with the orange juice when the doorbell rang. Her hand shook as she placed the glass back on the table.

  Could it be Maxim? Was she ready to face him again? Her heart rate spiked. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and walked to the door. She peered through the peephole. Her hand unclenched.

  “Julien.” She smiled as she opened the door. She hadn’t seen the chief since he’d reported on Sam’s assault at the physician conference.

  “Hi, Emma. May I come in?” His kind eyes crinkled up at the corners as he gazed down at her.

  “Sure.” She closed the door after him and ushered him to the sofa.

  “Sorry I haven’t stopped by before. Mary and my kids got chickenpox so our house has been kind of crazy.” He swept her an uncertain look. “You’re immunized, right?”

  “I got it as a kid so I’m protected. Is your family doing okay?”

  “Yes. Thank God. How’s it going with you?”

  Emma shrugged and forced out a half-smile. “It’s going.”

  “I’m sorry about your brother.” Julien extended his hand. “If it makes you feel any better, they arrested Peterson and the gang members.”

  “You mean the PALIs?”

  “Yes. Some of them confessed to the assault in exchange for less time. Peterson is in jail, waiting for his hearing.”

  “Good. Does anybody know why he did it?”

  “Nobody knows for sure.” Julien shook his head. “But there’re rumors going around that he was broke. And you can make a lot from selling drugs.”

  “That’s so despicable.”

  “I know. Nobody’s more shocked than Chambers. He just got out of the hospital.”

  “What?” Emma’s heart thudded. “Maxim was in the hospital?”

  “Yes. He had surgery to remove the bullet.”

  “What bullet?” The room suddenly dimmed as Emma’s legs buckled. She dropped down on the sofa and clutched its armrest.

  “Peterson shot him. The surgeon thought it nicked his lung but luckily it was only in the shoulder. They operated right away.” Julien touched her arm. “Hey. Are you alright? You look real pale.”

  “Maxim was shot? Is he okay?” Emma croaked out against the rushing in her ears. No wonder he hadn’t stayed to check up on Sam. He’d been in the OR. And all this time, she’d been cursing him for his callousness.

  “Yes. He’s fine. Recuperating at home.” Julien got up and brought back her half glass of orange juice. “Here, drink, Emma. You look like you need it.”

  Emma gulped down the orange juice, her mind spinning. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I didn’t know he was shot.”

  “He told us not to tell you. Said you had too many things to deal with already.” Julien sat down next to her. “But I thought you’d want to know. You’re close to him, aren’t you? Are you guys dating or something? There’re some rumors floating around.”

  “No, we’re not dating.” Emma bit her lip. At least not anymore. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, he knew about Morris being your brother and didn’t say anything. You must have been close.”

  “What? What did you say?” Emma’s fingers clamped down on the glass.

  “Don’t worry. Sacramento was going to fire you for not telling us about your brother.” Julien leaned back on the sofa. “But Chambers took the blame for it. Confessed he knew all along Morris was your brother. So now all their wrath is on him.”

  “Maxim said what?” The rushing in Emma’s ears amplified into a loud roar.

  “That he knew about your relationship with Morris.” Julien took the glass from her hand. “You could have told me too, you know. Although I don’t know what I would’ve done. It took a lot of guts for Chambers to keep your secret. And even more guts to admit he knew about it.”

  “I know,” Emma forced out through the lump in her throat.
He’d lied to save her. The poor, darling, wonderful misguided man. “I feel so horrible about the whole thing.”

  “It’s okay. Water under the bridge and all that.” Julien gave her a sympathetic smile. “They’re only giving you a letter of instruction. You can come back any time.”

  “But what about the investigation?”

  “Investigation? What investigation?”

  “He said he was going to have me investigated. For being involved with Sam.”

  “There’s no investigation.” Julien shook his head. “Peterson must have lied about it to scare you off.”

  “No. Maxim said he was going to launch one.”

  “Nothing was launched. He knew all along you were Morris’s sister. Why would he start one?”

  Oh my God. He had never launched the investigation. He was protecting her all along, even when he thought she was involved with Sam. But he’d told her he was going to call for one, didn’t he? Maybe he’d meant to start one but couldn’t go through with it. Because he cared about her. Because he loved her. And what had she done with that love? She’d cursed and screamed at him, throwing it back in his face. She’d been so awful.

  “Anyway, I wanted to let you know you can return to work anytime,” Julien was saying. “You’re a good doctor, Emma. The patients miss you. They keep asking about you.”

  “Thanks.” Maybe she should go back to Albatross. It felt nice to be needed. But Sam had warned her to stay away. It was going to be tough to decide.

  “Thank goodness Sacramento didn’t fire you. They suspended Chambers, though.”

  “No! For how long?” A cold vise gripped at Emma’s heart.

  “Two months.”

  “Jesus. That long?”

  “Yes. They were pushing for more but his officers spoke up for him. So it’s only two.”

  Poor Maxim. He had done it all for her. How unjust his punishment. She should have been the one suspended, not him. She had to fix that, if he’d let her. “Where is Maxim right now?” Emma forced out through the knot squeezing at her chest.

  “Most likely at home.” Julien stood and put on his jacket. “I tried to visit but he turned me away, being his usual grim and silent self.”

  “He’s a really good guy when you get to know him.”

  “That’s what all his officers say. Sorry I can’t stay longer. Mary needs me back at the house.” Julien leaned over and gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” Emma waved good-bye, her mind reliving their conversation. How could she have been so mistaken? Maxim had loved her all along. He’d given up so much for her. Sacrificed his job, even lied for her. True, he hadn’t protected Sam but he’d done everything else, including taking that bullet for her. She owed her life to him. She was always going to miss Sam. But blaming Maxim wasn’t going to bring her brother back.

  She needed to thank Maxim for all he’d done. And she had to reverse his suspension somehow. But most of all, she had to beg for his forgiveness. She’d been downright cruel to him. Funny, Sam had said to give Maxim a chance. Her brother had it all wrong. It was Maxim who should be giving her another chance.

  Chapter 34

  The drive to Maxim’s house was interminable. Traffic was light but the winding road up to his driveway took forever to climb. Finally she stood outside the door to his mansion, her heart in her throat. She looked down and winced at her outfit. Faded jeans and an old college T-shirt. In her rush, she hadn’t stopped to change. And she had no makeup on. Great going, Emma. She tugged at her pendant and rubbed her palm on her jeans. Oh well. It was now or never. She pressed the ringer.

  A pleasant, plump middle-aged woman opened the door. “Yes?”

  “Hi.” Emma licked her dry lips. “You must be Maxim’s housekeeper.” Maxim had wanted them to be alone during her previous visits so she hadn’t had a chance to meet the housekeeper yet.

  “Yes. I’m Ana. Can I help you?”

  “Is Maxim in? I have to see him.”

  “I’m sorry. Is he expecting you?”

  “No, not really. But I think…” Emma swallowed. “I mean, I hope he’ll see me.”

  “What’s your name?” The woman darted a look over her shoulder before turning back.

  “Emma. Emma Edwards.”

  “The doctor from the prison?” Ana’s face broke out in a smile. “Well, why didn’t you say so before? Come in. I’m sure Mr. Chambers will be happy to see you.”

  Emma exhaled a small huff of air, the tightness in her throat easing by a fraction.

  “At least I think he’ll be happy.” Ana shook her head and smoothed a hand over her white apron. “He hasn’t asked about you for a while now. Come with me. He’s in the back.”

  The constriction in Emma’s throat slammed back in full force. Maxim used to ask about her, but not anymore. Was she already too late? She placed one foot in front of the other and stepped onto the marble tiles. They were pink and white, easily twenty inches by twenty inches with a gold edge around each border. Nothing but the best for Maxim. The vast array of sculptures and paintings along the sweeping hallway still intimidated her, screaming wealth and elegance. Emma plucked at her worn T-shirt and bit her lip. She definitely should have put on something more presentable.

  Too late. Ana was already opening the French doors to the back gardens. Emma inched forward, her hands clenched. A light fragrance of roses permeated the air. She took in a deep breath and held it before letting it out through her mouth. She forced her breathing to slow. She could do this. Maxim had sacrificed so much for her. She’d be willing to do anything to win him back.

  “It’s okay, Ana. You don’t have to announce me. I’ll find him.” Emma put a hand out to stop the housekeeper.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’ve been here before.”

  “All right, Doctor.” Ana gave her a friendly wave before heading back into the house.

  Emma stepped past her favorite koi fishpond. There were more fish than she remembered. Maxim must have bought more. Most of the water lilies weren’t blooming but the pond still shimmered with peace and beauty. A big yellow fish swam to the edge followed by two smaller ones in different colors.

  On-ke-kaaangh. On-ke-kaaangh. Emma stumbled. Was that what she thought it was? She shook her head. Of course not. She must have imagined it. But no. There it was again, somewhere from the direction of the gazebo. It sounded so much like Phineas. It couldn’t be. There was no possible way.

  Emma veered left and dashed past the bright courtyard of rosebushes. Down the trail she ran, shooting around another corner before she screeched to a halt. She blinked a few times. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no. There he was. Phineas! Alive and well. Her beautiful blackbird.

  He perched on a bar in a large wooden octagonal birdcage hanging at the front of the gazebo. Maxim stood next to him facing away from her, dressed in loose jeans and a light-blue dress shirt, a white sling covering his left arm. His right arm was raised to the birdcage. Emma brushed away the wetness from her eyes. Phineas was alive.

  “Hello, Maxim.” Her voice cracked.

  Maxim’s arm froze in midair. For a few seconds, he did nothing, his body unnaturally still. Finally he turned.

  “Emma. What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse and there were dark shadows circling beneath his eyes. Still, he looked as magnificent as ever.

  “I can’t believe it. You saved Phineas?” She wanted nothing more than to run to him but his expression was grim and almost unwelcoming.

  “Yes. I brought him to the vet.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was touch-and-go for a while so I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Luckily he pulled through.” Maxim indicated the birdcage, his gaze softening. “He has a dressing on his wing but the vet thinks he’ll recover okay.”

  “He looks wonderful.” And indeed her blackbird’s feathers were extra glossy today, providing quite a contrast to t
he white bandage he had wrapped around his left wing. He swung his eyes back and forth between Maxim and her before letting out another loud chirp. “Thank you for saving him.”

  “You’re welcome.” Maxim’s tone was formal, his face still remote and cold.

  “So how are you doing?” She forced some false cheer to her voice and clasped her hands in front of her to still their trembling. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m sorry you were shot.” Emma stepped closer but he retreated, his form rigid. “I didn’t know. Nobody told me.”

  “I told them not to tell you.”

  “Why? I wish I’d known.”

  “Your plate was already full with your brother.” Maxim’s mouth twisted. “And I was pretty sure I wasn’t your number-one priority at that moment.”

  “I’m sorry, Maxim. I treated you so horribly.”

  “No more than I deserved.” He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have protected your brother.”

  “You didn’t know our relationship.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his eyes bleak. “I would’ve tried to help somehow.”

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d do.” Emma paused. If only she could find the right words to make him understand. “I didn’t want you to compromise your job for me, and I couldn’t bear it if Sam and I were separated.”

  “You didn’t trust me enough to keep your secret.”

  Was that the gist of it? The guilt clawed at her. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Maxim.” Emma swallowed and took a cautious step forward. “Especially now when I know all that you’ve done for me. You didn’t even launch the investigation.”

  “I’d planned to.” He gave a bittersweet smile. “But in the end I guess I couldn’t go through with it.”

  “I wish you’d told me. I was so worried.”

  “I know. I should’ve been more open with you. Maybe you would’ve trusted me more. And none of this would have happened. Your brother might still be alive.” Maxim pulled at his sling, his face twisted in remorse.