The woman had smiled in recognition when she saw Penelope come in, but now she called out in alarm, “Ms. Moon? I’m sorry but you have to check in. Ms. Moon!”
Penelope hurried down the corridor toward Simon’s room. At any moment, she expected to hear running footsteps behind her, but she reached Simon’s room before anyone could stop her. Opening the door, she stepped quickly inside.
And froze.
Chapter Eleven
Simon was in his bed, eyes closed, his face in peaceful repose. He might only have been sleeping…except Penelope knew that he wasn’t. He was still in a coma.
A knot clogged her throat as tears stung behind her lids. She’d been wondering what her reaction would be on finding Simon here, and now she knew. Her heart twisted in pain.
Simon hadn’t been on the yacht or in the courtyard last night because he’d been here. He was still in a coma. There’d been no change in his condition, and it hit Penelope anew that he might never come back to her. She might never again feel his arms around her…hear his whispers in her ear…
She put a hand to her mouth, choking on a sob as she stumbled back against the wall. She would have broken down completely if she hadn’t realized suddenly that Simon wasn’t alone.
Allen Decker sat at his son’s bedside, a book spread open on his lap, glasses perched on his nose. The same glasses Penelope had found lying on the floor a few days ago. He took them off now and placed them with the book on the bedside table, then rose.
In the split second before he spoke, Penelope could have sworn she saw something that might have been sympathy flash in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual disapproval. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Mexico.”
“I just got back and I came straight here. I had to see Simon—”
The harried receptionist burst into the room then, dragging along a security guard. “There she is!” She pointed an accusing finger at Penelope. “I’ll have you know, you’re trespassing on private property. You’ll either have to sign in at the front desk or vacate the premises immediately.” She spun to face Allen Decker. “Mr. Decker, I’m so sorry for all the confusion, but this woman…Ms. Moon…she refused to sign in and I couldn’t stop her.”
The security guard brushed by the receptionist and grabbed Penelope’s arm. She tried to shake him off, but his grasp tightened as he tried to haul her toward the door.
Simon’s father put up a hand. “Wait. Let her go.”
The man reluctantly released Penelope, but he remained nearby, ready to nab her again if she made a wrong move.
Penelope’s eyes shifted from the guard to Simon’s father, stunned that he had come to her defense. She lifted her hands in supplication. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I have to see Simon. Please. It’s important.”
The receptionist sniffed at all the drama. “All you had to do was sign in at the front desk if you wanted to see him so badly.”
“Please, Mr. Decker,” Penelope pleaded. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I suppose since you’ve gone to all this trouble, I can’t very well say no. But the next time you come, I expect you to adhere to the rules and regulations of this facility.”
Penelope nodded gratefully. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
He paused at the door and glanced back. “You’ll have to make it a short visit,” he warned. “It’s almost time for his physical therapy session.”
“I won’t be long,” Penelope promised.
She waited until the door closed between them, then she turned back to Simon. Drawing a deep breath, she walked over to his bed and stood staring down at him, taking in the features she’d come to know so well. The tiny scars. The strong line of his jaw. The curve of his lips…
And she remembered in vivid detail the way those lips had kissed her…gently persuasive and yet tentative at the same time.
That was the Simon she knew. Tender and restrained.
The Simon she’d dreamed about last night didn’t exist. And the menacing man she’d glimpsed aboard the yacht…she didn’t know who he was, either, but he obviously wasn’t Simon.
She brushed her knuckles down his face. Lifted his hand to her lips.
No response.
Not so much as the flicker of an eyelid.
Well, what did you expect?
What had she expected? An empty bed? A miraculous recovery?
She’d known Simon would be here like this. She’d known there’d been no change in his condition. She’d known the man she’d seen in Mexico couldn’t possibly be Simon. And yet, in the far recesses of her mind, a tiny hope had been ignited.
And if that man had been Simon? the voice in her head demanded. If he had been arguing with Tonio Vargas just hours before Vargas had been murdered…before Vargas had warned her that they were both in danger—
Penelope went dead still.
Something was different about Simon. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
She studied him. The scars were the same. The line of his jaw, his lips…
Yes, everything was the same except…something was different…
And then she had it. His coloring had changed. Even though she’d always marveled at his healthy glow, today he looked as if he had a…tan. As if he’d just come from a beach in Mexico.
Penelope’s heart started to pound as she stared down at him. She had to be imaging things again.
But she wasn’t. Simon had a suntan.
Which begged the question of how he’d gotten it. While in the hospital, in a coma.
Had someone taken him outside? Perhaps they’d moved him into the garden for a bit so that he could get some fresh air. That would explain the color.
Yes, that had to be it, Penelope told herself as she dug around in her purse. Finding the tiny sewing kit she always carried for emergencies, she removed a needle.
Taking Simon’s limp hand in her own, she began to talk to him in a soothing voice. “I have so much to tell you. I just got back from Mexico, and I have to say, I had quite an adventure. I even thought I saw you there.” Quick as lightning, Penelope pricked the tip of Simon’s index finger with the needle. She never took her eyes off his face, but she didn’t see any reaction whatsoever. Still not even a flicker.
Guilt washed over her. “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Simon, but I had to be sure—”
The door opened, and Yvette Dickerson stormed through, her mouth set in a tight, angry line. Penelope closed her hand around the needle as she simultaneously swiped away the bead of blood on the end of Simon’s finger.
“What’s going on in here?” Yvette demanded. “You weren’t scheduled for a visit.”
“I know,” Penelope said contritely. “I showed up unexpectedly—”
“I gave her permission to see Simon,” Allen Decker said from the doorway.
Yvette whirled. “You gave her permission? You should have cleared it with me first.”
Allen’s face went dark with anger. “I beg to differ. I still have some say in who can and can’t see my son.”
The hostility between Simon’s father and Yvette Dickerson took Penelope completely by surprise. She’d always assumed he reserved his animosity just for her, but apparently Yvette rubbed him the wrong way, also. For some strange reason, that made Penelope feel closer to him.
“Look, it’s all right,” she said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. I just wanted to see Simon for a few minutes. I’ve had my visit, and now I’ll go. And I promise that the next time I come, I’ll call first, and I’ll sign in at the front desk. I’ll follow hospital procedure to the letter.”
“I would highly advise you do just that,” Yvette said as she glanced at Allen. “We all have Simon’s best interests at heart here.”
Penelope turned back to Simon, tucking the hand she’d pricked with the needle under his cover. Smoothing back his hair, she bent and kissed his cheek, then s
traightened and quickly walked away from his bed.
As she moved toward the door, she glanced at Simon’s father. “Thank you.”
He shrugged and looked away, but not before Penelope saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Softness. Perhaps even a glimmer of affection.
What had made him change his opinion of her? Penelope wondered. Or was that, too, her imagination?
A few minutes later, the receptionist tracked Penelope with open suspicion as she strode across the lobby and, even outside in the parking lot, Penelope could still feel the woman’s eyes on her. But she resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. Unlocking the rental car, she got behind the wheel and then pretended to look for something in the seat as she covertly studied the building. Satisfied that she had the layout memorized, she started the engine and left.
Instead of heading back to the airport, she exited the freeway on the outskirts of Dallas and checked into the nearest motel. After locating her room, she went back out to do some shopping. An hour later, she returned with her arms full of packages and a hamburger she’d picked up at a fast-food place.
She ate sitting cross-legged on the bed watching TV, and then afterward she took a long, hot shower. The water relaxed her so much that she fell asleep the minute she crawled into bed.
When she awakened, the room was dark. She shot up in bed, panicked that she might have overslept. But it was just after ten. Plenty of time to dress and drive back out to Fairhaven for the shift change at eleven.
Penelope hardly dared think about what she had planned. Or why. She wasn’t a risky sort of person. In fact, she was the most conventional member of her family. Slipping into a hospital dressed as a nurse was something Ariadne or Cassandra might do. Or even Helen, as long as she looked good doing it.
But Penelope wasn’t the undercover type. She hadn’t even cheated on her high-school exams, and she never so much as lied about her weight or ran traffic lights or stole office supplies at work. She had never done anything remotely clandestine, and as she rose to dress, her heart thudded against her chest.
Glancing in the mirror, she gave herself a final appraisal. The dark blue scrubs she’d purchased at a nearby discount store looked almost identical to the ones she’d seen on the staff at Fairhaven. She looked the part. Question was—did she have the nerve to pull it off?
AS IT TURNED OUT, getting inside Fairhaven undetected wasn’t nearly as difficult as Penelope had anticipated. She pulled her rental car around back to the staff parking lot and simply waited until the personnel assigned to the late shift began showing up just before eleven.
The first worker arrived several minutes early. Penelope sank down in her seat and watched the woman get out of her car, cross the parking lot and insert her ID card into the security slot. A moment later, the lock released, and the woman pulled back the door and disappeared inside.
The next two employees arrived together. Still slumped in her seat, Penelope could hear them talking and laughing as they passed near her car. She let them get a lead, and then she got out and hurried after them. As they waited for the lock to release, Penelope opened her purse and pretended to search for her card.
They were still talking and laughing as they entered the building and neither seemed to notice Penelope when she slipped in behind them.
The door opened into a long corridor, and Penelope paused to get her bearings. She could hear locker doors banging in the room to her right as the staff stored their personal belongings and got ready for the long shift ahead of them. In a moment, they’d come back out, so Penelope had to decide quickly what to do.
From her earlier surveillance of the building, she’d determined that the hospital was laid out in the shape of a capital I. The front entrance was located in the top portion, along with the administrative offices. The long wing that ran straight back from the lobby housed patients’ rooms, and the bottom portion of the I, where Penelope now stood, was where she’d always assumed the physical therapy unit was located.
The women’s voices grew louder as they neared the doorway, and rather than taking time to look around for a hiding place, Penelope darted down the corridor. Turning a corner, she took another moment to reconnoiter. She had no idea where the guards would be at that time of night, but she was far more concerned with the security cameras that monitored the hallway. Simon’s room was about halfway down, and Penelope wasn’t at all certain she could evade the lens of the camera before it turned once again in her direction.
But she didn’t have much choice because the nurses were coming up quickly behind her. Sprinting down the long hallway, Penelope skidded to a halt in front of Simon’s door, then ducked inside.
The light was off, and she waited at the door until her vision adjusted to the darkness. Then she moved swiftly to Simon’s bedside.
He was gone.
Her heart in her throat, Penelope flattened her hands against the bed. The sheets weren’t even warm. He’d been away for some time.
She leaned against the bed for support. The knowledge that her instincts had been dead-on about this place made her legs go weak with fear. What had they done with Simon?
She had to find him and get him out of this place. Unless…
She closed her eyes for a moment. Unless he’d already left under his own steam.
Penelope didn’t want to think about what that might mean for her. For them. She didn’t even know how to feel about such a possibility. All she could focus on at the moment was finding Simon. Then she’d get answers.
Moving back to the door, she drew it open and glanced up and down the hall. The coast was clear, except for the cameras, which she could do nothing about.
After closing the door behind her, she retraced her steps down the hall, but instead of making a beeline for the rear door, she searched along the back corridor until she located a set of double doors labeled Physical Therapy.
Well, that answered one question. Fairhaven really did have a P.T. unit. Penelope had begun to wonder if the place was even a legitimate rehabilitation facility.
Pushing open one of the doors, she slipped inside. The lights were off in here, as well, but she could make out the darker shapes of the equipment, and she could smell the faint scent of chlorine from a pool or spa. Simon wasn’t there, of course. At this time of night, no one was.
Penelope turned to leave, but just as she pressed her hand against the door, she heard footsteps hurrying down the hallway in her direction. And then she heard voices. Loud voices. Panicked voices.
The door closed with a swoosh as Penelope whirled and frantically searched the gloomy space for a place to hide. Moving cautiously away from the exit, she dropped behind a piece of equipment just as someone burst inside and the lights came on.
Peering around the stainless steel machine, Penelope spotted two security guards. She drew back and tried to curl herself into a tight, invisible ball.
“You take the right side, I’ll take the left. She has to be around here somewhere.”
“Who was the idiot that let her get inside in the first place?”
“She came in with a couple of the nurses. Jackson must have been asleep at the monitors.”
“There’ll be hell to pay for that.”
“There’ll be help to pay if we don’t find her. So let’s get to it.”
The guards separated to begin a methodical search of the room. Penelope glanced around in panic. She was safe enough at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before they found her hiding place. And if she made a run for it, they just might shoot her. The law would be on their side, too, because not only was she trespassing—they’d made a big deal of that earlier, hadn’t they?—her actions lately might even be considered unstable.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t go around blabbing about what I saw. People might start thinking you’ve gone over the edge.”
She put a fist to her mouth, trying to control her chattering teeth.
Was that why Simon’s father had bee
n so nice to her earlier? Did he think she’d gone over the edge?
Or maybe that’s what he wanted people to think about her—
Concentrate! She had to find a way out of this mess.
She could hear one of the guards moving toward her. He was only seconds away—
The lights suddenly went out, and the guard nearest Penelope cursed softly when he bumped into a machine. The other one called out, “Hey, you okay?”
No answer.
The guard’s voice rose in concern. “Frank, you all right?”
Penelope listened to the silence as her heart raced in fear. She expected at any moment for the lights to come back on, but nothing happened. No lights. No sound. Nothing.
After a few moments, she ventured a peek. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness so that she could once again make out the shapes of the equipment. But nothing moved among the shadows. It was as if the two guards had vanished into thin air.
Penelope didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t stay hidden forever. The lights would eventually come back on. More guards would come looking for her. She had to find a way out of that room, and now seemed as good a time as any to make a run for it.
But as she got to her feet, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth. A voice whispered in her ear, “Don’t scream. Don’t make a sound, understand? I’m going to get you out of here. In one piece, if you’ll cooperate.”
Chapter Twelve
Penelope awakened slowly. Her head pounded, and the sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window hurt her eyes. She threw an arm over her face to filter the brilliance.
Wait a minute….
Sunlight? Her bedroom window?
Trying to free herself from the death grip sleep seemed to have on her, Penelope lifted herself up on her elbows and looked around. Evidently, she was back in Houston, in her apartment, in her bedroom, lying in her own bed. How she’d gotten there she had no idea.
Okay, think! a little voice commanded inside her throbbing head as she fell back against the pillows. What was the last thing she remembered?
Mexico. The police station. Alex. The airport.
Unauthorised Passion/Intimate Knowledge Page 26