Murder and Mischief in the Hamptons

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Murder and Mischief in the Hamptons Page 8

by T. L. Ingham

Chapter Eight

  The nurses plied me with a sedative and Maya and Pia (Gloria in tow) beat a hasty retreat. By the time Jase returned- the low-down, lily livered, yellow-bellied, chicken-hearted deserter that he was- I was feeling the full brunt of the tranquilizer.

  But not so much that I couldn't tell him exactly how I was feeling. "Cowardly cowering cowerer." I said. Or something like it. I think it was more, "Cowerrerr-rer-rer."

  "How are you feeling?" Jase asked as he peeked around the door and then slowly stepped in. No doubt he was waiting for a volley of objects to come sailing at him. And if I hadn't been too drugged up to get my hands on anything, let alone attempt to throw it, that's exactly what would have happened.

  "Drunk. Dishillushunned."

  "Huh?"

  "Dishillushunned. Ya know- dishappointed, let down, fallencresht. Dishillushunned."

  "Ahhh. Disillusioned. And that's crestfallen."

  "Wha'ev'r."

  "I'm sorry."

  "You could've tol' 'em no. Pia could've tol' 'em no."

  "I couldn't tell them anything, honey. They had to get you out of there. By any means." He gently took my hand. I was too tired to fight him, so I didn't pull away.

  "Bu' my hair!"

  "Look, you're not Sampson. Your hair will grow back."

  "Until then I'll look like shome baby doll shome li'l brat took the shcissors to and then carted around by what li'l' was left."

  It took Jase a minute to decipher this."Pia says she knows some great stylist at some salon that can fix it."

  "Roberto."

  "Yeah, I think that's what she said."

  "Yeah, he did my hair before. He'sh gonna flip hish shit when he sheesh thish."

  "It'll be fine," Jase assured me.

  "Eashy for you to shay. You shtill go' all your hair."

  "Right now, everything's easy for me to say. You, not so much."

  "Shut up."

  He chuckled. Then, lightly brushing his fingers across the crown of my head, he smoothed back my hair- or what was left of it anyway- and said, "Maybe you can get a pixie cut like Maya's."

  "I don' think sho. She'sh cute, I'm an Azamon."

  "That's Amazon, honey. And you'd be beautiful in anything."

  Beautiful. Was it the drugs talking, or did he really call me beautiful? The wealth of emotion that suddenly flooded through me had tears pricking the backs of my eyes. I blinked rapidly, pushing them away, but Jase noticed anyway.

  "Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?"

  "No. I jush wanna go home." The sedative was making me very sleepy, but the thousand and one feelings that just the touch of Jase's fingers was making me feel, were keeping me wide awake. "How long do I have to shtay here?"

  "I don't know for sure. A day or two I'd guess."

  I sighed. "I'm sho over thish hoshpital."

  "I bet you are."

  "I wan' my hair back." I couldn't let it go. I was about as low as I could get. Dismal. Dejected. Despondent. Any and all of these words couldn't adequately describe exactly how I was feeling. My hair was the one and only thing I had always loved about myself. It was the single source of pride I could hold on to while I was in school, when everything else about me felt gawky and strange. I had reached the majority of my five foot ten by the time I was twelve and I towered over all of my classmates, male and female, feeling insecure and unattractive. But my hair. My blond, thick, gorgeous hair. Everyone wanted my hair. For that reason I had always worn it long. And now, a large chunk of it, if not all of it, had been sheared off.

  "They didn’t have a choice. You were pinned against the building, Reid, and you're lucky that most of what was caught was your hair and clothing. If it had been your body, by the time they managed to extricate you, you would have been dead. I for one am quite willing to forfeit your hair for your life."

  I sighed. "I get it. That doeshn't mean I have to like it."

  He bent down and kissed me then. Not the forehead this time. The lips. The kiss was gentle, but it still managed to curl my toes.

  Minutes later he leaned back and said, "How about that? Do you like that?"

  "Immenshely."

  He smiled and I smiled back. Though not as wide. My face was bruised and felt a bit like I had been pummeled with a bat.

  Or a car.

  Whatever.

  We spent the rest of the night watching television, flipping channels after the late show, and the late, late show, and the late, late, late show were over. The nurse tried to throw Jase out a few times, but failed. He was as determined to stay, as I was to have him stay.

  Sometime around three in the morning I drifted off and he must have left, because when I awoke at nine the face looking down at me was not his.

  "Who the hell are you?" I was startled out of my smiling wakefulness and into cautious awareness.

  "Dr. Timmons," the man smiled down at me. "You're a very lucky young lady."

  "So everyone keeps telling me. Now how about you increase my luck by releasing me. I'd like to go home. No offense to your fine establishment, but I'd rather be in my own bed."

  "No offense taken," he assured me, not that I cared. "I'm used to that particular request. In my vocation, that's always number one on the hit parade. Let me just examine you and we'll get down to discussing your release."

  He went through a number of things, checking my vitals, examining my file, and then discussing my various injuries, at full length and in unnecessary (at least I thought so) detail, finishing with, "So you'll need at least a few more days of full bed rest before you start charging around again."

  "You got it. Bed rest. No tootsies on the floor. Can do, doc. Just sign that release form and I'll be on my way."

  "Who will be picking you up?" he inquired. Damn him for remembering such things.

  I thought for a minute then said, "No problem. I'll just give my boss a call and she'll be here in two shakes of a lion's tail. Or is that lamb? I dunno. Anyway, just sign that form and I'll plant myself on a nice bench outside and wait for Pia."

  He shook his head quite decisively. "No, ma'am. I'll sign the release once your ride is here and not a second sooner." He checked his watch. "I'll be in surgery most of the afternoon, so if your ride can be here before, say, one o'clock, that would be best. If not, I'm afraid the release will have to wait until later this evening."

  There was no amount of convincing, cajoling, or otherwise coaxing that would change his mind. And since I was unfortunately the sad-sack owner of a now defunct, and as Zoe had so eloquently put it, 'in about a million pieces,' cell phone, I lacked the required numbers to call anyone. I begged the nurse for a phone book, which took her nearly an hour and my constant badgering to locate and I was finally able to call the gallery. Naturally, my call went straight to the machine.

  As if that wasn't bad enough, Pia's number was unlisted. As was Robert's, Maya's and Jase's. What was with these people? I was just getting desperate enough to place a call to my mother, the one number I actually knew off the top of my head, and plead for her to make the two hour trek- barely making it within the doctor's narrow timetable - when the phone began to ring. I snatched the receiver up in a hurry and practically shouted hello. I didn't care if Jack the Ripper was on the other end, so long as he promised me a ride home. Before he cut out my liver and other parts. I might have to rethink that.

  "Reid? Reid, is that you?"

  It was Robert. "Yeah, Robert, it's me."

  "Oh, girl, you scared the wits out of us! Dane and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night for worrying about you! That wasn't so bad though, as it led to other more romantic endeavors. But we can talk about that another time. (Or not!) I just wanted to see how you were doing."

  "I'm fine Robert. The doctor says I can go home now, but I need a ride. I don't suppose you might be available to pick me up?"

  "Certainly! We'll be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail! (So it was lamb. Good to know.) See you soon! B'bye!" With that, he hung up the phone.

>   I instantly hit the nurse's call button, and the nurse returned, bleary eyed. (Already? This early in the day? This girl was going to have to get some stamina if she intended to make a career out of working in the hospital!) "What now, Miss Larson?"

  "I'm going home now. The doctor said once I had my ride lined up he would release me. Please let him know, since he goes into surgery soon. I really need him to sign that paperwork now. Also, I need my clothes."

  She sighed. It was a heavy sound. I almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost.

  "Well, let's get cracking," I urged. "Time's a-wastin'!"

  "I'll let him know. As far as your clothes go, well, you have some personal items in that drawer in the bedside table, other than that I don't think they brought anything when you were admitted."

  "What do you mean they didn't bring anything? I wasn't exactly naked on the street you know!"

  She sighed again. "I'll check, but I honestly don't think there was anything."

  She left me alone in the room. Just me and my thoughts. My belatedly-adding-together-oh-my-God-I-wanted-to-die-of-humiliation thoughts. Suddenly, I recalled the entire conversation with Jase the night before, in full detail. I was pinned to the building by my hair and my clothes. They had to cut my hair off in order to free me. Wouldn't it make sense that they had done the same with my clothes?

  Which meant that damn nurse was right. I checked the drawer. One watch, broken, one necklace, also broken, one piece of my cell phone, presumably the part I had still held in my hand, though why they bothered with that was anyone's guess, and nothing else.

  Had they removed me from the car stark-assed naked? My face flushed bright red with humiliation at the thought. Even that kind of hurt.

  Aside from the panties I was still wearing, the only clothing I currently owned was the fashionable, breezy-up-the-back hospital gown. And I had no number to return Robert's call. Great! Just great!

  I would have stomped my feet in frustration, but considering the condition I was in, I probably would have broken a hip, so instead I slumped back onto the bed and pouted. And fumed. And silently fussed. Until Robert and Dane arrived.

  "Reid!" Robert flounced in with Dane trailing behind, a little less flouncy.

  They both kissed me on the cheek and fussed over my sling, and my various bumps, bruises and scrapes, and then thankfully commiserated quite heavily over my newly shorn hair.

  The doctor arrived with the paperwork, a few prescriptions, and his orders in hand. He reviewed these with myself and Dane (he had made the assumption that I would be staying with them, and hey, who was I to argue?) while Robert ran down to the gift shop to see what he could scrounge up. He returned minutes later with a giant balloon bouquet and an array of clothing to delight any sightseer.

  There was a pink Hamptons t-shirt, some navy blue gym shorts with 'Hamptons' scrawled across the back in white, and a ball cap. I looked like a tourist's nightmare, but I was going home. I changed as rapidly as I could considering my fractured ribs- Jase wasn't joking, it was a brand new adventure in pain- hanged myself only twice with the sling, and silently lamented the fact that I would be seen in public sans bra, something I hadn't done since I was eleven.

  When I was finally ready, I and my body-casted bear were wheeled out by a nurse, while Dane carried my floral bouquet and Robert carried the Mylar one. It was with immense relief that I watched the hospital disappear from the passenger window of Robert's car.

  I sat back in the seat and closed my eyes, trying not to feel every bump and jolt along the way. This was the reason that I was so shocked when Robert announced, "We're here!" and I opened my eyes to discover that I was not, in fact, home. Actually, I had no idea where I was. So, of course, I asked.

  "Our house, silly!" Robert chuckled. "You didn't think we were going to drop you off at an empty house and leave you to fend for yourself, did you?"

  Yeah, I was kinda hoping for exactly that.

  Dane helped me from the car and led me up the walk, leaving Robert to juggle the balloons, flowers, and the mummified bear. He led me through the entryway (grand to say the least- it was a two story entry with banisters and balconies as far as the eye could see) and into a nearby sitting room. After making me as comfortable as possible on the over-stuffed sofa, he headed off to the kitchen to get me something to drink.

  Robert continued fussing around the room for a moment, finding a place to rest the flowers and balloons, and then handing me the injury bear before leaving the room to call Pia and inform her of where I was.

  I was just beginning to drift to sleep- the sofa really was comfortable- when their chef, Jaques, came bustling into the room.

  "Mon dieu! Ce qui est arrivé à vous? What has happened to you?!"

  I opened my eyes. "Jaques, how are you doing?"

  "Much better zen you, I should say! Zey told me what zat bastard professeur did to you, but zen I knew you were okay. Zey said you had gone home. But now? Zees? Mon dieu!"

  "I'm fine, Jaques, really. Just a few bumps and bruises, but nothing that won't heal."

  "But your hair!"

  Thanks. I needed that reminder.

  "It'll grow back." I found myself using the same words Jase had spoken the night before. "I'm quite willing to forfeit my hair for my life." Somehow I made it sound believable, although I still wasn't certain how much I believed it myself.

  "Mon dieu."

  "All right. Enough with the, 'my God's.'" While my French was more than a little rusty, I was able to translate that at least. "I'll be fine. I just need a drink. And some rest."

  "Dane eez getting you ze drink right now. I will just run back to ze kitchen and whip you up ze chocolate mousse. Chocolate fixes everything."

  The way he pronounced it- 'shaw-coe-lot'- I almost believed him. I wasn't completely sure, but I was willing to risk it. My grumbling stomach echoed the sentiment.

  "And somezing more substantial as well!" he added and then disappeared from the room.

  Dane returned with a big glass of iced tea, complete with a sprig of mint. I polished it off in no time, but refused the offer for a second glass. I hurt too much to attempt making a foray to the bathroom just now.

  Robert joined us saying, "I wasn't able to reach anyone at the gallery, but I left a message on the machine, as well as on Pia's cell."

  "Thanks, Robert. I guess I'm going to have to get a new cell." At his questioning look I explained about the demise of my own.

  The three of us shared a fantastic lunch, courtesy of one temperamental French chef who felt he owed me one for helping him land a more satisfactory job than he'd had in the past. After we finished eating, Robert and Dane left me to catch up on my sleep, which I did, slumbering quite heavily in a chocolate mousse induced stupor.

  It was sometime toward the evening when Pia arrived, her shrill voice reaching me even from the foyer. "Dear, Lord, Robert! You had me nearly frightened to death! I went to the hospital to pick Reid up and was told she had already gone! Jase is ready to put out an APB!"

  "I called the gallery and your cell, Pia," Robert defended himself. "What more could I do? Short of smoke signals, there really is no other way of alerting a person."

  "The gallery is closed for the day since the street is closed off. They're still trying to clean up the damages from the law office next door. And I didn't check my voice mail until a few minutes ago."

  "That's not really my fault, now is it?"

  Robert and Pia came bustling into the sitting room, still arguing.

  "You should have left her there! You had to know I was intending to pick her up!"

  "Well, you certainly weren't in any hurry. And she was!"

  "I'm not a child to be argued about," I interjected, slowly sitting up, deliberately ignoring the fact that my movement bore a startling resemblance to Nosferatu's rise out of his coffin. "I'm quite capable of arranging my own ride and would gladly have contacted you Pia, or Jase for that matter, if my cell phone was still in one piece, which it i
s not!" I felt like adding, 'So there!' and maybe a giant raspberry as the exclamation point.

  Either I was being childish, or coming off all the drugs was having a detrimental effect on my personality.

  "I'm sorry if we worried you, Pia," Dane joined us. "That was not our intent. It's just that Reid was in a hurry to get out of there, and who could blame her really? Naturally, we wanted to help her in any way that we could."

  "Of course, Dane, I understand. Forgive me, I'm overreacting."

  Robert frowned, "How come when I say it you ignore me, but when Dane parrots it, it's all suddenly, 'Of course, Dane. Forgive me. I'm overreacting.' From you I get vinegar, but for Dane it's so much honey I could puke from the sugar."

  "Eloquently spoken," Pia told him and then turned to me. "Reid, you'll need to call Jase. He really is quite worried you know. He was planning another date at the hospital and then when we found out you weren't there, we all began-"

  "Flipping out?" I supplied.

  "Something like that."

  "Well, give me a phone and his number and I'll be glad to call him."

  "I don't have his number. I thought you did?"

  "In my cell."

  "Oh, dear." Pia thought for a moment then said, "Robert, would you mind calling the police station? Maybe they can locate him and pass a message."

  "Say please." He was obviously still offended by her earlier attitude.

  Pia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please, Robert, would you be so kind as to call the station and locate Jase?"

  "Why, certainly," Robert smiled and flounced out of the room.

  Pia placed herself gingerly beside me on the sofa. "How are you feeling, dear?"

  "Much better, thanks."

  "I thought maybe tomorrow I'd take you to the salon and see what Roberto can do to, well, not to bring up a bad subject, but you know-"

  "Pia, stop waffling!" Gloria suddenly popped into the room. "Honestly, it's not as if Reid doesn't know how badly trashed her hair is."

  I glared hard at her.

  "Well, you're no Joan of Arc you know."

  "-anyway, to mend your hair?" Pia was finishing up.

  "Gladly. Though I don't think even his genius can tackle this particular problem."

  "You'd be surprised. Meanwhile, we have quite a bit to discuss. I've been talking to the contractor about the guest house all day. It's not the one I normally use, but this one does come highly recommended. And he's not all that bad to look at either," Pia chuckled.

  Gloria let out a low whistle. "Hottie McHotster," she said, fanning herself with one hand.

  Leave it to Pia to hire the eye candy.

  "Anyway, he's quite excited about the project. So much so that he was the first to call me after my regular contractor put out the feelers. After walking around the property and actually taking him inside- I hope you don't mind, dear?- (too late if I did, now, isn't it?) he came up with a solution that I hadn't even considered and I'm quite excited about."

  "What's that?" I'd like to say I was disinterested considering the amount of pain I was in, but, alas, I could not. The thought of a brandy-spankin'-shiny-new art studio had me practically chomping at the bit.

  "Rather than refurbishing the existing guest bedroom, he is suggesting that we actually add on to the house and build an entirely new room, one specifically designated as a studio."

  "Isn't that a little expensive?" I was alarmed, to say the least. I simply could not afford one penny more in rent and, further, I didn't want to feel any more obligated than I already did. Pia going to enormous expense solely for my benefit would certainly bring on a sense of obligation.

  "Not when you think about it, dear. As the contractor- well actually he's an architect and a contractor- anyway, as he mentioned, with me owning a gallery, chances are that I may rent the house out over the next twenty years or more to up-and-coming artists like yourself, thereby recuperating any loss. Not to mention, it adds to the property value."

  Obviously she had put some thought into it. Or at least her new contractor/architect had. I just hoped she wasn't allowing herself to be buffaloed by the eye candy as she had with Ricky.

  "Anyway, he's working up some drawings which he plans to present to us in a couple of days. I invited him for dinner. I thought maybe the four of us-"

  "The four of us?"

  "Yes, dear. Bernard and myself, and you and Mike."

  "Sounds cozy." I eyed her suspiciously.

  "Quite. Anyway, we'll go over the drawings and see what we like."

  "Uh huh. And is that all that you have planned?"

  "Why, whatever do you mean, dear?"

  "Don't play innocent with me, Pia, I can see what you're up to."

  "I'm not up to anything," her eyes widened perceptibly.

  "I wondered if you would catch on to that," Gloria said as she bobbed along the ceiling. She likes to do that. I think it's because she feels superior being above everyone else in a literal sense. "She's matchmaking, no doubt. I've seen it before."

  "Matchmaking? Why are you matchmaking? I don't need a match! In case you haven't noticed, I already have one!"

  "Your delicious detective, you mean?" Robert sing-songed as he pranced into the room. "I just got off the phone with him and he's as yummy on the phone as he is in person!"

  Dane cleared his throat.

  "Sorry, honey," Robert had the decency to flush. "But you have to admit, he is luscious!"

  "If I did, you'd be tearing out your hair with jealousy," Dane reminded him.

  "You got me there," Robert tittered.

  "Getting back on track," I interjected before Robert could take us any further off the subject, "why are you trying to set me up with the architect when I already have Jase?"

  "Pia's trying to set you up with someone?" Robert asked incredulously before narrowing his eyes on her. "Why?" A glint of bad temper was beginning to edge into his voice. I wasn't sure if he was being protective of me, or Jase.

  "He was very handsome," Gloria told me.

  "I just think a girl should keep her options open," Pia said. "Be more open-minded. Besides, I don't see any ring on that finger."

  "It’s a bit early for a ring, wouldn't you say?"

  "My point exactly! You're not officially off the market yet."

  "I think Jase might argue that," Robert objected.

  "I'm not a prize bull, Pia. I'm not on the market."

  "Now you're being deliberately obtuse! My point is, Mike is quite good-looking-"

  "Jase is good-looking," Robert and I said in stereo. I shot him a glare. "I can handle this, Robert."

  "And he's very strong. You should see his biceps-"

  "The cop's ain't too bad either," Gloria said even as I was saying, "I've seen Jase's. They're pretty impressive."

  "And he has a fabulous career-"

  "Jase has a fabulous career."

  "And the potential to make oodles of money, if he doesn't already have it."

  Robert and Dane had been watching back and forth, as if they were following a tennis match, and at this they both stayed on me, awaiting my reply. But since I didn’t know what kind of money Jase did or did not have, (and to be perfectly honest, didn't really care) I couldn't form any kind of response.

  "Well?" Robert prodded.

  I sighed. "I got nothing."

  Robert visibly deflated. "Well, that's disappointing."

  "Sorry to disappoint you."

  Meanwhile, Pia sat back on the sofa practically gloating in satisfaction.

  "Money isn't everything, Pia," Dane finally joined the argument.

  "Maybe not, but never underestimate it," Pia argued.

  "Never overestimate it either," I returned.

  We were at a stalemate when the doorbell rang.

  "Oooohhhh, that's probably him now!" Robert chirped gleefully.

  "Him who?" I asked even as Pia said, "Probably who?"

  "Jase, of course!"

  Pia and I both flushed, though I'm certain for diffe
rent reasons.

  Pia, no doubt, was feeling at least some shame, since, although she disliked policeman as a rule, she did in fact like Jase, and I had no doubt she didn't want to hurt or offend him. God love her, she really only had my best interests at heart. In her very twisted, twisted way.

  I on the other hand was not looking forward to presenting Jase with my new touristy version of myself, especially with the bed-head I was no doubt sporting now that I'd lost my baseball cap. I looked around wildly for the stupid thing, but to no avail.

  Robert led Jase into the room, introduced him swiftly to Dane, and then offered him a chair and a drink. While Robert and Dane headed to the kitchen to get some refreshments, Jase, ignoring the chair Robert had offered, walked over to me and dropped a shopping bag into my lap with a thump.

  "Ouch!"

  "That's the least of what you deserve after scaring me half to death," he remarked, taking a seat beside me on the couch, leaving me sandwiched between him and Pia, which considering the conversation that had just passed, had me feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

  "Will everyone please take a minute to remember, I no longer have a cell phone! I couldn't call anyone because I don't have any numbers!"

  "Ever hear of a phone book?" he challenged.

  "Ever hear of an unlisted number?" I disputed.

  "You go, girl!" Gloria chimed in.

  "Oh." That took some of the wind out of Jase's over-burdened sails.

  "Yeah, well, I tried. And if I'd left it up to you people, I'd still be rotting in that hospital, so when Robert called, naturally I jumped at the chance to escape. I didn't mean to worry anyone, I just wanted out of there." I looked down at the bag in my lap. "And what is this?"

  "I thought you might want something other than the hospital gown to wear home, though it looks like you did quite nicely," he eyed my sightseer gear. "New in town?"

  If it wouldn't have hurt me more than it would him, I would have hit him. Hard.

  Instead, I opened the bag and peered inside. He had planned well. None of the clothing was mine and everything was still sporting the tags, so obviously he had done some shopping. There was a pair of jeans (surprisingly the right size), a t-shirt (a little larger than what I normally wore), some underwear (embarrassing), and even a pair of socks and some sneakers. Much better than going barefoot, as I had been since leaving the hospital.

  "I checked the sizes on your clothes before they disposed of them. The shirt's a little big, but I figured with all that bandaging around your ribs that might be better. I skipped the bra for the same reason."

  I flushed like a schoolgirl with embarrassment at the mention of the bra and sadly didn't have the hair to hide it.

  Pia came to my rescue. "If you'd like some help changing, I'd be glad to assist you."

  "Yes, thanks," I mumbled to her. Then mumbled another thank you to Jase, before following her out of the room.

  Pia led me to the guest bedroom and helped me to strip and clean up, washing me like an invalid and doing the best to style what was left of my hair. Gloria had the good grace to stay in the sitting room while this was going on and for that I was grateful. I'm not sure I could have taken her bobbing about the room while I stood there naked allowing Pia to take care of me. When I was as clean as I was going to get, Pia helped wrangle me into my new clothes and strapped me back into the sling, only strangling me with it once. The finished product was an overall improvement, but by the time we had accomplished the monumental task and returned to the sitting room, I was exhausted and sore beyond reason.

  I settled onto the sofa and gratefully accepted the drink and the pills that Robert offered.

  "While you were sleeping, Dane ran out and picked up your prescriptions," he told me.

  "I hope that's okay?" Dane added.

  "Of course! Thank you!" I don't know what I ever did to earn such caring friends, but right now I was flooded with gratitude for them.

  "Are any of those Xanax?" Gloria asked. "That's the one thing I truly miss, now that I'm dead."

  Well, at least flooded with gratitude for most of them.

  I was drifting off to sleep again when Pia finally called a halt to the night saying, "I really should be getting Reid home."

  "Oh, you're welcome to spend the night in the guest room if you want," Dane offered.

  "No, thank you," I shook my head groggily. "I just really want to go home and sleep in my own bed."

  "Come on, dear, let's get you out to the car," Pia was saying, but I was already falling asleep again. What was in that prescription?

  "I've got her. You just get her things. I'll take her in the truck and meet you at the house."

  The next thing I knew I was being lifted- damn, he really was as strong as he looked, I am no featherweight- and carried out to the truck. To give Jase his due, there was no sign of huffing and puffing along the way. Jase gently maneuvered me into the truck, with little help from me, and I was out again before the engine even started.

  When I next awoke it was to an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room- an unfamiliar purple room which immediately told me where I was- and Cecilia bending over me.

  "Did she really think bringing you here was gonna keep me away from you?" Cecilia crowed with malevolent delight.

 

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