by Lori Wilde
“What have you got?”
“Hold on, let me get the results for you.” Danny disappeared into the computer room and returned quickly with a computer read-out.
“There’s nothing toxic here.” Tyler frowned. What had he been hoping for? Some unknown chemical that could have explained Jane’s healing?
“Without a bigger sampling we may never known what was in those vials. Too bad she couldn’t tell us anything specific.”
Tyler sighed.
“Did you fill out an incident report on that thumb?” Danny asked, reminding Tyler that he’d stuck himself with a syringe of Jane’s blood.
“No. I’ll do it later.”
“Don’t wait too long,” Danny warned. “I don’t like the looks of things.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I heard your Jane Doe left the hospital against medical advice last night. Is that true?”
“Yes.” Tyler could not say more. For both professional and personal reasons he didn’t want anyone at the hospital knowing he was harboring her at his beach house.
Danny clicked his tongue. “That’s too bad.”
“Why do you say that?”
Danny’s bright blue eyes met Tyler’s. “You didn’t get my message? I called and left it on your machine.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t check my messages this morning.” He didn’t want to admit he hadn’t been at his Houston residence. “What was it concerning?”
“That second sampling of blood you had me run on Jane Doe.”
“What did you find?” Tyler wadded his hand into a fist. He had a hard, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, an ominous sense of déjà vu, but he did not know why. The paramedics’ lab results had improved; Hannah’s should have, too. “Did her levels correct?”
“No.” Danny dropped his gaze. “Not only were her other values unchanged but her hemoglobin and hematocrit had dropped, too.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Danny had to say, but no good came of sticking one’s head in the sand. Yvette’s death had taught him that. He couldn’t help Jane if he wasn’t armed with all the details.
“I repeated the test four times, just to make sure.”
Tyler shoved a hand through his hair. This didn’t make sense. Why had her hemoglobin and hematocrit dropped dramatically? Was she bleeding internally? He swallowed. Had he made a grievous error in taking her from the hospital last night?
The beeper at Tyler’s waistband went off. Distracted, he glanced down to see the phone number for the chief of surgery, Michael Ledbetter. Irritated, Tyler switched the beeper off. What now? He didn’t have time for Ledbetter. Jane Doe was very sick and he needed to get her back to the hospital ASAP.
“Borrow your phone?” he asked Danny.
The man handed him the receiver.
“Fresno here,” he said, when Ledbetter answered.
“Ah yes, Tyler. Could I see you in my office?”
“I was just going off duty.”
“I won’t keep you long,” Ledbetter assured him.
“Can’t it wait until Monday?”
“I’m afraid not. You see, there’s an angry police officer pacing my carpet and it’s your name he’s brandishing in unsavory terms.”
“I’ll be right there,” Tyler said through clenched teeth, frustrated that it was going to be just that much longer before he got back to Jane at the beach house.
After Tyler had left for the hospital, Hannah napped fitfully for a few hours, but her dreams had been so plagued with violence and nasty visions of the corpulent Lionel Daycon, she’d jerked awake a little after nine o’clock, achy and hungry.
She had tried three more times to call Marcus but had never received an answer. Her anxiety escalated. What should she do now? Should she try to get her hands on a car and head for Taos? But that scenario worried her, too. What if Daycon was waiting in ambush for her to appear at Marcus’s place? But if she continued to stay here, she was putting Tyler at risk. Neither alternative seemed appealing. For the moment, circumstances answered the question. She had no money, no ID and no way off the island. At least, not until Tyler returned.
She tried to refuse the feelings that stirred in her every time she thought about him, but she couldn’t quite still the rush of her breath. She couldn’t stop her heart from thudding just a little bit faster when she remembered how warm and comforting his hand had felt in hers. No matter how she tried, she could not vanquish this sweet, miserable urge to gaze into his deep brown eyes again and simply drown there.
Keep your mind busy. Find something to do.
Following that edict, Hannah had showered and dressed in blue jeans and a formfitting white cashmere cardigan she had found in a chest of drawers in Tyler’s room. He had been right. She and his late wife were exactly the same size.
She walked to the convenience store on the corner, taking in the crisp morning breeze and inhaling the salt air. Seagulls circled and cawed overhead. There hadn’t been many people on the beach, nor many cars on the street.
With the money Tyler had given her, she bought not only cereal, tea, coffee, pastries and milk for breakfast, but provisions for dinner, as well. Dried spaghetti, canned marinara sauce, French bread, prepackaged salad. She was optimistic, planning for the evening meal. She shouldn’t be thinking about food and cooking dinner but, truthfully, it was a thankful respite from fretting about Daycon and Virusall. If she tried really hard, she could almost pretend she was a normal person, engaging in normal activities.
“Yoo-hoo.” A feminine voice with a distinctive purr reached Hannah’s ears while she sat at the breakfast table, glancing out the wide picture-window at the ocean beyond. “Tyler?”
Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Seconds later, a slender, dark-haired woman wearing too much makeup appeared on the landing.
The woman spied Hannah through the window and stopped short. Her mouth dropped open. “Yvette?” she whispered, but then she shook her head and quickly recovered from her surprise and waved a hand.
Getting to her feet, Hannah moved to open the door. “May I help you?”
“Oh…” The woman, who was about five years older than Hannah and wore rings on every finger, hesitated a moment before asking, “Do you have any coffee?”
“Just instant.”
“That’ll do. As long as it isn’t decaf.”
“It’s regular.”
“Thank God. You’re a lifesaver.” The woman was dressed in black skintight leggings and a long orange sweater that suited her dramatic coloring.
Hannah wasn’t good in social situations or at making idle chit-chat but she supposed the woman was waiting to be invited inside. Marshaling her courage, she said, “Won’t you come in?”
“Thanks. By the way, my name’s Margie.” The woman extended a many-jeweled hand. “Margie Price.”
“Jane,” she said using the name the hospital had given her and briefly touching Margie’s cold palm.
Her hand melded with the woman’s. Hannah experienced an odd swirling sensation in her palm that grew to encompass her entire arm.
“Goodness.” Margie’s eyes widened and a startled expression crossed her face. “You’re so warm. Almost electric.”
“I’ve had my hands in my pockets,” Hannah replied quickly pulling her hand away and wondering why she felt compelled to lie.
“That’s the oddest thing,” Margie said, raising a hand to massage her long neck.
“What?” Hannah experienced something rather unsettling herself. Her fingers tingled from touching Margie and she momentarily fought a wave of dizziness. She grasped the kitchen counter and the sensation passed as quickly as it had come.
“The crick in my neck just disappeared. I passed out on the couch and when I woke this morning it felt like I’d slept on a coat hanger. Anyway, I was groping around for my coffee and when I discovered I’d run out, I recalled seeing Tyler’s light on late last night. So I trotted over, counting on him to have some java stashed away so
mewhere.”
What she hadn’t been counting on, Hannah realized, was finding another woman in Tyler’s beach house.
“Where is he, by the way?” Margie craned her now-crickless neck and peered down the hallway.
“He’s at the hospital.” Hannah put a cup of water to heat in the microwave
“And you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t realize Tyler was seeing anyone.” Margie plopped down at the kitchen table. “We’re pretty good friends. He tells me almost everything. And he’s never mentioned you.”
“He told me he hasn’t been to the beach house since summer,” Hannah couldn’t resist saying and feeling a bit catty for gloating. “I guess you don’t get to see him much.”
“Oh, I live in Houston, too. On the same block as Tyler, in fact.” Margie arched a well-plucked eyebrow. “I see him nearly every day.”
Touché. So much for her pathetic attempt at one-upmanship. She was new to jealousy.
Hannah spooned coffee crystals into the heated water and stirred vigorously before passing the mug to Margie. She wished the woman would leave, but then an unexpected thought occurred to her. If Margie Price knew Tyler as well as she claimed perhaps Hannah could tempt her into gossiping about him a little. She was dying to know more about the handsome doctor who had taken it upon himself to offer her shelter during her own personal storm.
“Oh,” Margie exclaimed. “You’ve got Danish. Do you mind if I have one? Although heaven knows it will doom me to an extra hour on the treadmill.”
“Help yourself.”
Margie sipped her coffee and happily chewed a pastry while Hannah made herself a cup of tea.
“What’s this?” Margie asked, picking up a sheet of paper filled with mathematical equations. Hannah had been trying to replicate the complex formula for Virusall from memory and was getting absolutely nowhere. Margie wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Looks like chemistry.”
“It is.” Hannah took the paper from Margie, folded it carefully and stuck it in her back pocket.
“What are you? A chemist?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re a tea drinker, huh?” Margie said, nodding at Hannah’s cup. “Just like Yvette.”
“Yvette?”
“Don’t tell me Tyler hasn’t told you about her?” Margie clicked her tongue. “Isn’t that just like a man?”
“Who’s Yvette?”
“His wife.” Margie lowered her voice. “She died of cancer. She was only twenty-five and her death just about killed him. It’s been six years and he hasn’t gotten over her.”
“He must have loved her very much,” Hannah said, her mouth suddenly so dry her tongue stuck to her palate.
“Yes.”
What would it feel like to be so loved that a man grieved over you for six long years? Whether she had known it or not, Yvette Fresno had been a very lucky woman. And Tyler. What a tragically romantic man.
An edgy panic pushed against her rib cage. How could she be falling for him at the most inopportune time of her life? It was not sensible or smart or safe, but the more she learned about Tyler, the more she liked and respected him.
“You look like her, you know,” Margie said. “I suppose that’s the attraction.”
“Who? Yvette?”
“Yes. Blond. Petite. Curvy.” Margie sighed. “You know, I always hoped I’d have a chance with Tyler but no matter how hard I try, I’m tall and flat-chested and brunette.”
Hannah stared at her hands. Was it true? Was Tyler projecting his feelings for his dead wife onto her? Was that the reason he had been so eager to help her? It made perfect sense. Unfortunately, it didn’t relieve her anxieties.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” she said, “but I’ve got a few phone calls to make.” Hannah got to her feet. “If you don’t mind.”
“Oh, sure.” Margie got up, not the least bit offended at being tossed out on her ear. Hannah wished she could be so breezy and easygoing. “Well, I’m heading back to the city this afternoon so, if I don’t see you again, take care.”
“It’s been nice meeting you.” Hannah smiled tightly.
“Thanks for the coffee.” Margie headed for the door but then stopped and turned. “And good luck with Tyler. That man deserves someone to love. Even if it isn’t me.”
Chapter 5
Hurry up, let’s get this over with, I’ve got to get back to Jane. Tyler sat in Michael Ledbetter’s office watching while the police officer he had spoken to the evening before paced.
“So you say you have absolutely no idea where this Jane Doe might be?”
“None.”
He didn’t like lying, especially to an officer of the law, but Tyler wasn’t going to give away Jane’s whereabouts. She needed protection and right now it seemed he was the only one who could give it to her.
“And you’d never seen her before last night?”
“No.” At least that was true.
“Yet you agreed to pay her hospital bill. Why?”
Tyler shrugged. “She couldn’t remember her name. She had no money, and didn’t know if she had any insurance. I volunteered to vouch for her bill until she could regain her memory and take care of it herself.”
“Have you ever paid a patient’s bill before?” Officer Blankenship narrowed his eyes and placed an oversized hand on the butt of his gun. There was no mistaking he meant to intimidate.
Tyler shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No.”
“Why her?”
“I hope you’re not suggesting something unethical.” Tyler bristled.
Michael Ledbetter made a calming motion with his hands. “Of course Officer Blankenship isn’t suggesting that.”
He had overreacted. Why? Perhaps because he felt that his attraction to Jane Doe was unethical? “I felt sorry for her.”
“You’re absolutely sure you had no idea that she was planning to leave the hospital against medical advice?” Blankenship jotted something in his notebook.
Tyler looked to Michael Ledbetter. “You better tell me what this is all about.”
“We ran the plates on Jane Doe’s car,” Blankenship replied.
“And?”
“The vehicle is registered to Daycon Laboratories in Austin. Ever heard of them?”
“Sure, they’re the largest privately owned pharmaceutical company in the country,” Tyler said.
“The car she was driving was reported stolen two days ago. Right after someone set fire to the lab.”
“Which means?”
“We think that someone was your Jane Doe.”
“Oh.” Tyler stared at Blankenship. Was he saying Jane was an arsonist and a thief?
“So, if you have any idea at all where she might be…” Blankenship let his words trail off.
Tyler shook his head.
“All right then. Sorry to take up your time.”
“No problem.” Tyler forced a smile.
“You’ll call me if you happen to hear from her,” Blankenship said it as a statement, not an option, and handed Tyler his card.
“I won’t be hearing from her.”
“But just in case,” Blankenship insisted.
“Sure.” He could feel his collar dampen with perspiration.
“Thank you.” Blankenship nodded at Tyler and Michael Ledbetter and then left.
Tyler started to get up.
“Just a minute.” Ledbetter raised a hand.
What now, for crying out loud! If he didn’t get out of here, get back to Jane and find out just what the hell was going on with her, he would explode.
“What is it, Mike?” Tyler struggled to keep the edginess from his voice.
“The E.R. security guard tells me he saw you leave the hospital parking lot last night with an unknown female in your car.”
Tyler took a deep breath. God bless the hospital grapevine. “Listen, Michael.”
Ledbetter raised his hands. “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. You’re a
great surgeon, Tyler, and you’ve never been one to get overly involved with your patients. That’s a good sign. I don’t want to hear that you’ve changed on me now.”
“It’s not what you think.” Great, it sounded as if Ledbetter believed he was having an affair with Jane.
The chief of surgery placed an index finger to his lips. “All I’m saying is be careful. Hospitals are small places. Word gets around. Please, whatever you’re up to, be discreet. I’d hate to see you jeopardize your standing in our community for some momentary indiscretion.” Ledbetter tried to smile but it came across as a grimace. “You are up for my job when I take the executive administrator’s position next year. I’d rather not see Jim Nesbitt get the job over you. He hasn’t been here as long, nor is he as gifted a surgeon. But the right candidate must have an impeccable reputation.”
You two-faced son of a bitch. You were the one who urged me to put in my bid for chief of surgery.
“Is this a threat, Michael?” Tyler asked, a cold chill running through him. His boss was using this incident with Jane Doe as a chance to play politics. “Because I don’t like to be threatened.”
“Oh, no,” Ledbetter quickly backpeddled. “Not at all. Let’s call it a warning. As long as you continue business as usual and don’t do anything out of the ordinary, such as harboring a dangerous pyromaniac who’s wanted by the police, then there shouldn’t be any problems. Are we straight on this?”
“Perfectly.” Tyler said through clenched teeth, and then stalked out of Ledbetter’s office with one thing on his mind. Jane Doe.
On the drive to the island a thousand awful images flashed before his mind’s eye. He had found himself exceeding the speed limit, making the fifty-mile journey in just over thirty minutes, his thoughts occupied with what Danny O’Brien and Officer Blankenship had told him about Jane.
Heart knocking like an engine gone bad, Tyler raced up the steps to the beach house, worried what he would find waiting for him. No matter how robust Jane had appeared that morning, she was very ill. Her low hemoglobin and hematocrit levels in themselves were cause for concern, not to mention her abnormal platelets and white blood cell count.