"Wait!" Madeline bolted from her chair.
The inspector paused just inside the door with a polite expression of resignation on his face. "Senorita?"
Madeleine gaped. Why had she jumped out of her chair to lunge at a stranger?
The inspector appeared trustworthy, more than that, he'd proven himself trustworthy, like a security blanket, and Mr. Jamieson…She turned back to examine the smiling diplomat. He just seemed to want to be rid of her.
"Senorita, you have my number should you require anything else, but I trust that will not be necessary."
"Uh, right. Thank you…for all you've done."
"My pleasure. We are sorry your stay has ended in such a manner. I hope it improves."
He inclined his head and left.
Madeleine fell back in her chair. The Inspector might be satisfied, but Madeleine's mind whirled with questions. "Mr. Jamieson, you're aware that my luggage has flown to Texas, and I don't have even one change of clothing?"
"Don't give it another thought. I believe you'll have all the surgical wear…er, scrubs, that you'll need. You'll be staying in somewhat of a hospital, I take it. But there are recreation grounds…a pool. You might get in a little more sight-seeing." He gave her a glare. "As long as you stay to the main thoroughfares." His eyes softened, and he smiled. "Well, if that's it…"
"Just a moment. How long is it going to take to earn my passage home? I'll lose my job if I'm away too long."
"I believe your employer was paid a stipend for your services. If the patient responds to treatment immediately, your flight home will be assured, otherwise, you will receive your usual salary, plus a bonus until you can return home. But…it's hoped you'll remain until the patient has fully recovered. Now…"
He stood up. Clearly, he considered their interview at an end. "A car is waiting out front to take you to your new residence." He held out a small white card. "Do not hesitate to call upon me if you have further questions."
Madeleine smiled to herself. She may not have two pennies to rub together but now she had two business cards. Whoopee.
She climbed down the stairs, instead of sliding down the banister as she was tempted, to find Miss Phipps and her wide, toothy smile.
"The limousine is just outside. Have a wonderful stay at The Institute. I here it's a fascinating place."
Fascinating. That could mean anything to quite a number of people.
Madeleine raised her hand to wave and stepped out the door past the armed presence on either side. Once again, the Marines stared forward, unblinking. Quite an impression of strength and safety. If anything went wrong, she'd be back.
A long, black Embassy car, flags waving on either side, eased up to the curb. Madeleine climbed in, and they whisked away to points unknown.
Did the patient live in Madrid? She hadn't thought to ask.
She knocked on the window that separated her from the driver, another young Marine. The glass lowered.
"Yes, Miss?"
"Where are we going?"
A grin lifted the corner of his mouth, but he showed no surprise. "To The Institute. On the outskirts of Madrid."
The Institute. Sounded like a loony bin. Were they sending her to an asylum?
She shrugged and sat back to enjoy her first ride in a limo. Lord, I know there's a point to this. All things work together for the good of them that love the Lord, and you know I love you…right?
More than half an hour later, they pulled up to a guard shack nestled beside tall wrought iron gates. The driver announced her name, and the gate opened.
Madeleine leaned forward to peer around the broad Marine, but tall hedges blocked any view save the long winding drive.
After passing what seemed an eternity of perfectly-shaped hedges and a never-ending lawn, they reached an imposing colonial edifice, red brick and white pillars.
In large gold letters on a black sign, Madeleine read, 'The Institute of Resource and Technology.'
"Do tell," she muttered. "At least it's not a loony bin."
Her Marine hopped out to open her door and stand at attention.
Madeleine climbed out and walked toward the large double doors then looked back at him.
She caught a glimpse of his back-side as he marched back to the driver's side. So much for Semper Fi.
Madeleine raised the heavy brass knocker on the front door.
A voice boomed at her from a speaker on the side of the wall, and she jumped.
"Excuse me, Miss. Would you look at the camera over your head, please?"
Madeleine obliged.
"Now…what is your name and purpose at the Institute? Have you an appointment?"
This was ridiculous. Did they want her or not?
She rose to her full five and a half feet and glared at the camera. "Of course, I'm Madeleine Price from the American Embassy. I believe you required a speech therapist."
A click sounded as the door opened automatically. She walked through.
It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the change in light. A wide lobby lay before her, clean and austere, sterile even. White and chrome gleamed from the chairs and a sofa along the window. Never in all her days had she seen a sofa so white. How in the world did they keep it that way? Maybe no one ever sat on it.
Madeleine pulled at her last reserves of courage and strode to the reception desk, her sandaled heels clicking on the tiled floor. "Madeleine Price."
The receptionist beamed and ran slender fingers through her long black hair. "Good morning, Miss Price. Dr. Hanover will be with you shortly, if you'd like to take a seat."
Madeleine retreated to the white couch and stared. It certainly did appear as if no one had ever used it. Well, she was going to sit on it.
She plopped down like she owned the place and picked up a magazine. It was in French. She dropped it and picked up another. German.
At last, she found an English tabloid and began to read. The President of the United States urged Americans to take care overseas. They were primary targets for terrorists and other unsavory characters.
"You're a little late." Madeleine told his picture. She still had the bump on her head to prove it.
"I beg your pardon."
Madeleine dropped the magazine. "Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you come up." She stood and held out her hand. She felt as if she'd been doing it all day. "Madeleine Price."
At first glance, the man appeared elderly, due in part to his long, white clinical jacket and the thick beard covering the lower half of his face.
Madeleine peered at him. His unlined complexion and lack of gray hair told a different story.
"I'm Dr. Hanover," said the red-bristled caterpillar covering his upper lip. "Pleased to meet you. Would you come this way?"
Madeleine followed him down the long hallway to an elevator. He punched a button, and the elevator lurched upward. Dr. Hanover stood stiffly against the paneled wall, staring ahead.
"So…Dr. Hanover. Has the patient fully recovered from concussion? Have you done a Cat-Scan? Do you have any idea why he hasn't spoken?"
The doctor remained curiously quiet.
Madeleine pressed on. "How long ago was his accident? And what, specifically, happened to him?"
He gave her a blank look. "I'm sorry, Miss Price, but I'm not a physician. I'm a scientist. I really couldn't say what goes on his mind. He just stares into space. We've tried everything, or rather, the other therapists did."
Madeleine felt her stomach churn. "Other therapists? How many have there been? Couldn't they help him? How long has he been suffering from this…malady?"
"Please." He held out a hand. "I'll tell you what I can, but it's not much. There were two men, but their English was poor. They left. The accident occurred almost a month ago. He got a bump on the head, and there was a small fire…lots of smoke. When he woke up, he couldn't say a thing."
The elevator opened, and Dr. Hanover waited for her to exit before leading the way. He stopped at a door and opened it.
Madeleine looked up and down the corridor. Lined with doors, like a dormitory.
"Here you are."
She followed him, and he pointed at the hotel-sized closet just inside the door. "There are some scrubs in there, various sizes. We weren't sure..." He looked her up and down and coughed. "You have a private bath and…" He walked to a door and knocked. Then he opened it. "Steven?" He glanced at Madeleine. "A connecting door to Dr. Faraday's suite."
Why would she need a connecting door to the doctor's room?
"Steven." His voice grew louder as he stepped into the other room.
Madeleine trailed behind him, twisting her head to look behind her as they left her room. Double bed, same maroon and charcoal grey accents as the rest of the building.
In the next suite, a tall man sat in a long, low windowsill, staring out at the grounds. With his tight black T-shirt and jeans, he resembled no doctor Madeleine had ever seen. More like an athlete. His arms fairly bulged with muscular strength.
A dark tan accentuated the blonde wiry curls trimmed close to his scalp. His profile could have been that of a statue, unmoved and unaffected as Madeleine ventured forward. Long lashes, a straight nose, lips parted in a slight smile. What did he see outside that window that brought such an absorbed expression?
Madeleine found herself wanting the poster-boy of perfect manhood to look her way. He had to be the most attractive doctor in Spain.
Dr. Hanover walked closer and pulled at his arm. "Steven, look at me. I've brought someone to meet you."
The ideal specimen turned his head, revealing vacant eyes which never quite met Madeleine's.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh no.
This grown man, Dr. Faraday, was her patient.
Dr. Hanover beckoned for Madeleine to join them.
She moved forward, almost in shock.
"Steven…this is Madeleine, pretty little Madeleine. Say hello to Madeleine."
The vacuous eyes turned on Madeleine, and the face smiled. The beautiful, angelic smile of a little boy.
Madeleine forced a smile and held out her hand. "How do you do…Dr. Faraday."
He stared, ignoring her hand as if it didn't exist then he knelt and pulled the laces on her tennis shoe.
She gaped at Dr. Hanover while Dr. Faraday attacked her other shoe.
Dr. Hanover shrugged. "He's rather like a small boy. A precocious boy with an IQ off the charts. Really, he's harmless, but he does like to play pranks. And you'd better call him Steven. He might ignore you if you call him Doctor." He took a step toward the door. "Oh, call me Mike. I'm Steven's assistant."
Madeleine looked back at Steven, once again seated at the window, staring out into space.
"Just a minute!" she called after Mike and took a step, but her foot slipped out of her shoe. She shoved it back in and bent to tie her shoelaces. "What's been tried with Dr. Faraday? I mean…what therapies?"
"I couldn't say. But the physician will doubtless make an appearance when he learns Steven has a new therapist. Just try to keep his attention. Lunch is at twelve-thirty. Would you like to eat up here with Steven or come down to the dining hall?"
Madeleine studied Steven's uncooperative expression. It might be better to watch him eat. She might discover something about his abilities. "Send a tray up if you don't mind."
"If you have any trouble with him, ring that buzzer by the door. He wanders off, so you better keep an eye on him." The door closed.
"Well, really." Madeleine put her hands on her hips. "I'll just have to make the best of it." She stepped closer to the window. "Why am I talking to myself?"
She sat beside Steven and looked out the window. Two people lazed beside a pool, but no one swam. Was that what absorbed his attention?
If she could watch him perform activities, she could ascertain the extent of his loss.
"Steven."
He didn't answer or turn his head.
"Steven." She gently grasped his clean-shaven jaw and turned his face toward her. His eyes were bottomless pits of dark blue, but he smelled amazing. Whatever his shortcomings, Steven Faraday knew how to look and smell like a man. "I'd like to help you, Doctor… I mean Steven. Can you hear me?" Nothing at all. "Do you know someone is sitting beside you, holding your chin?"
He gave her that brilliant, childlike smile and cupped her chin in his hand. His fingers were strong, but his grip remained gentle. Did he always mimic movements, or could he think for himself?
Madeleine dropped her hand from his chin and smiled at him. "Madeleine. I'm Madeleine. You're Dr. Faraday…Steven."
He dropped her chin, and the blank look took over his expression before he turned his face to the window.
Madeleine put her hand against his cheek. "Excuse me, Doctor, may I look in your mouth?"
She once again pulled his face around then opened his mouth. "Teeth…healthy and very white. At some point, you've been bleaching, dear doctor. Throat and gum tissue…undamaged."
She sighed, closing his mouth. "You look fine." She managed a small laugh. "Better than fine, actually. I'd watch you on a movie screen any day."
He rose and walked to the door.
"Where are you going? Are we allowed to go out?"
He disappeared down the hall. "Steven, wait."
She hurried after him, but he stepped on the elevator. It closed in her face. Her last sight of him showed him staring at the buttons on the panel. What if he pushed every one?
"Ooh." She banged her hand on the wall.
Down the hall, she sighted an emergency exit and ran. The stairs provided the only avenue of pursuit.
Would he head for the ground level? She certainly hoped so.
How embarrassing. There less than an hour, and she'd already managed to lose her patient.
Madeleine's breath came in gasps by the time she reached the bottom floor. She busted through the door and rounded on the elevator. Empty.
She peeped out the back window and saw Steven Faraday's tall figure walking toward the pool. What if he fell in?
She rushed outside and strode to the side of the pool where she reached for his arm. He jerked then whirled around, knocking Madeleine into the deep end. She floated for several seconds before she realized what he'd done.
Precocious boy? I don't think so.
She kicked to the surface and shook the hair from her eyes, spitting out pool water. "Steven," she coughed. "Don't…you…move."
His lifeless eyes stared past her then he turned away.
"Steven!"
As Madeleine struggled to pull herself over the side of the pool, someone reached down and hauled her from the water. "Allow me."
She saw nothing but a wide expanse of ordinary green scrubs as she shoved long strands of hair out of her eyes. This guy must be huge. She raised her eyes to thank the strong man, and her gaze became transfixed by a pair of intense black eyes in a hawkish face.
"Mademoiselle? Are you well?"
French. Very French.
"I'm fine. Did you notice where Dr. Faraday went?"
He smiled, shaking his head. "Wandered off again, has he?"
"Yes. I'm going to get fired before I even get to work on him." Water dripped in her eyes, and she blinked.
"You won't get fired. Dr. Faraday's therapists always quit. I'm Dr. Frank Geliteau."
"Let me guess. You aren't a physician, either. You're a scientist."
"Guilty. I'm an associate of Dr. Faraday's. At least, I was before the accident. And who might you be?"
"Madeleine. Lovely to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I've got to find my charge and change clothes."
"You might try the water fountain on the east side of the building. He sits there often."
"Thank you."
She stalked around the side of the building.
Sure enough. There sat Steven Faraday on the rim of a round fountain, staring into the gurgling water.
Her first inclination…to yank him up by the arm and give him a good spanking...dissipa
ted as she got closer.
He smiled at her with wide-eyed innocence, and she melted, reaching for his hand.
"Come along, Steven. I can't leave you sitting here all alone, and I'm soaking wet. And now I reek of chlorine."
She pulled him up then held tightly to his hand. He wasn't getting away again.
They reached the elevator, and she pushed the button, still holding his hand. "That was very naughty, Steven. Why did you push Madeleine in the pool? And don't say it was an accident, because I won't believe you."
She turned his face to look at her, but his eyes never met hers. They were once again dull and unseeing.
She felt his forehead. "Have you got a fever? You don't look so good. Maybe you need a nap." The elevator opened. "Why don't you lie down while Madeleine gets cleaned up?"
She unlocked her room and pulled him through the connecting door to the bed. He sat down, and she pulled off his shoes.
"Lie down."
He leaned backward, and she ran her hand across his forehead again. Cool to the touch.
"Stay here while I change, and when I come back, I'll read you a story." She shook her head. "What does one read to a scientist?"
She walked back through to her closet and yanked at hangers until she found a pair of scrubs her size. Pink with purple flowers and little yellow polka dots. She pulled on the shirt and pants then wandered into the bathroom.
A new hairbrush waited on the counter. She grabbed it and went back into Steven's room. He was lying where she left him, eyes closed. Perhaps, he was truly resting.
Madeleine sat in the window and brushed at her hair. The reddish gold color looked ridiculous against the pink and purple but it was the best she could do. Later, she'd send down for some more clothes her size.
Her gaze traveled the grounds. A few people wandered to and fro. Where was everyone? Ah, lunch hour, and they were in Spain. Most everyone would eat then have siesta. Maybe she should have waited to make Steven lie down. But he looked so fragile.
She glanced at him again. He was like a big, beautiful male model. A shame his eyes were so empty of life.
Madeleine & the Mind Page 2