Red Sky At Morning - DK4

by Melissa Good

  She fell silent, and her gaze dropped to the mussed sheets.

  Dar watched her. “Ker?”

  “Mm?”

  “Thanks for staying,” Dar said. “It would have been such a nightmare for me if you hadn’t.” She waited for Kerry to look up.

  “Literally.”

  Kerry gazed at her. “Why?” she asked. “No one likes being in the hospital, Dar, but they’re not that bad, really.”

  Dar shifted and settled her arm in a less uncomfortable position.

  She found herself studying the ceiling, its tiled surface bearing tiny 272 Melissa Good pockmarks, barely visible to her. “I fell out of a tree when I was little.”

  Her tone was quiet and casual. “They thought I’d cracked something, so they took me up to Baptist and had my head X-rayed.”

  Kerry put a hand on Dar’s arm in silent comfort.

  “They decided to keep me overnight, and they put me in a room with a real nice gal, an older woman,” Dar went on. “She was funny.

  Decided to spend the night telling me stories; had grandkids of her own, I guess.” She paused and thought, then went on. “I woke up in the middle of the night, and looked over, and I—” Dar stopped, staring off into the distance.

  Kerry waited.

  “I knew something was wrong,” the quiet voice went on finally. “I got out of bed and went over, and I realized she was dead.”

  It was like getting hit in the gut, hard. Kerry hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected an answer to her question that even remotely resembled this. “Sweetheart.” She barely whispered the word.

  “I think I started screaming,” Dar murmured.

  Kerry didn’t give a damn about the nurses. She hauled herself up onto the bed and put her arms around Dar, pulling her close and hugging her. “Lord.”

  Dar let her head lay against Kerry’s chest, reliving the moment.

  Even all these years later, she could still feel the terror, the unreasoning fear that had haunted her dreams for a very long time after.

  She remembered the nights she’d been afraid to go to sleep, terrified that she’d wake in the middle of the night and go in search of her parents, only to find them cold and stiff and staring. Dar drew in a shaky breath. It still shook her, even now. “Guess it made an impression.”

  Kerry stroked her hair gently. “How old were you?”

  “Five or six,” Dar replied, blinking. She was surprised to feel a tear roll down her face. “Silly, I guess, to even think about it now.”

  “No.” Kerry closed her eyes and held on, kissing Dar’s head, then laying her cheek against the spot. “Not silly.” She felt her throat closing up, her entire body hurting for the child Dar had been, wanting to go back in time and be in that place, at that time, to hold Dar just as she was now and chase the fear away.

  Dar allowed herself to accept the safety of that embrace. The ghost of that night lurking inside her loosened its hold, and as she reached up and clasped Kerry’s arm, she felt the terror unwind and drift away into the dawn’s breaking.

  Silence settled peacefully over them.

  They did, in fact, surprise the nurses.

  ANDREW ROBERTS WALKED down the hallway, dodging sleepy interns pushing carts of equipment at a far slower pace than Red Sky At Morning 273

  his rolling stride.

  It was early, he reckoned, before the visiting hours of the hospital; but if there was one thing Andrew had learned in all his years of service it was that if you acted like you knew what you were doing, folks tended to leave you be.

  Since he knew where he was, and knew where he was going, sure

  ’nough, nobody did ask him what he was doing in the hospital so early.

  Exchanging gruff nods with a security guard, he went past the nurses’

  station and down the next corridor toward one specific door set among many up and down the hall.

  As to why he was there? Andrew circled around a laundry cart.

  Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kerry to keep an eye on his daughter—he surely did; it was just that he knew how Dar felt about being inside these damn places and it never hurt to make sure.

  Did it?

  At the doorway he’d identified as Dar’s, there were two nurses standing and staring inside the room, and Andrew found his heart starting to go double time as he came up behind them. “Somethin’ not right here?”

  The women jumped, and one simply turned and left. The other looked up at Andrew’s towering height. “Oh, sir, visitors are not allowed now.” She started to take his arm to lead him away, glancing over her shoulder into the room. “Excuse me now—”

  “Ah, ah.” Andrew simply stood still, knowing the petite nurse wasn’t going to be pulling his six-foot-four-inch bulk anywhere. He glanced into the room anxiously, then let out a chuff of relief when he spotted the two figures snuggled together on the bed. “Would you just lookit that.”

  “Sir.” The nurse pulled on his arm with complete ineffectiveness.

  “Please.”

  “Chill yer jets.” Andrew turned his head and regarded her. “You got something you need doing, g’wan. I can wake these here kids up.”

  The woman stopped tugging. “You can?” she asked. “Oh. Would you? This is a situation we’re just not willing to get involved in.”

  One of Andrew’s grizzled eyebrows lifted. “Waking folks up?” he queried. “Damndest thing I ever heard. That malpractice stuff must be hitting you all pretty fierce.”

  “M—ah, no, no.” The nurse gave up. “Excuse me.” She turned and left, quickly walking away toward a door marked “Nurses Lounge.”

  Andrew watched her go, then he scratched his jaw thoughtfully before shrugging and returning his attention to the room. He stepped inside with utmost quiet and padded over to the bed, spending several moments just watching his children sleep.

  Then, with a rakish grin, he pulled a camera out of the pocket of his pullover and opened it, examining the controls carefully before he put it to his eye and allowed the gizmo to focus. When he had the scene 274 Melissa Good properly adjusted, he released the shutter and heard the click and whirr of the camera operating. After a second, he pulled it down and reviewed the LCD screen on the back, examining the digital image.

  “Huh.”

  He shook his head, then closed the camera up and tucked it away before moving closer to the bedside. His daughter was curled half onto her side, with her head pillowed against Kerry’s chest, with both of Kerry’s arms wrapped around her.

  Andrew felt a smile pull at the skin on his face, still stiff after all the scarring and the surgery. Hospitals weren’t his favorite place, either, but to be honest, he’d spent more time in them than Dar had. Even now, after all the work they’d done, he knew the scars were still damn ugly to look at, and he was conscious of that even with Ceci.

  God bless her, she never so much as flinched, even at the worst of it, but it didn’t stop Andrew from remembering the averted eyes or open stares of others.

  Like them nurses had been staring, only they’d been looking inside this here room. Andrew laid his big hands on the railing. Looking at something so beautiful made his heart ache, having seen so much hate in his lifetime that love could only be exquisitely beautiful to him.

  Very gently, he put a hand on Dar’s shoulder. He kept his voice low. “Paladar.”

  Dar’s eyes quivered, then blinked open, the dark brows over them contracting as she tried to place where and when she was. She turned her head and peered up at him, then realized why it was so nice and warm, and promptly turned the heat up by blushing a deep, vivid crimson. “D—”

  Andrew had to chuckle. “Dardar, I ain’t seen you turn that color since I done caught you skinny-dipping out at that waterhole when you were ten.”

  “Erk.” Dar’s throat issued an adolescent squeak.

  It was enough to wake Kerry up, though, and she also gazed at Andrew with sleepy eyes for a few seconds before her brain booted and nearly cau
sed her to fall off the bed. “Uh...Hi, Dad,” she managed to cough out.

  “Hi there, kumquat,” Andrew responded amiably. “You look right comfortable.”

  Kerry looked at Dar, who was still doing her best McIntosh apple imitation. “Sorry, honey,” she apologized weakly. “Didn’t mean to do that.”Dar sighed and rubbed her heated face with her good hand. “S’all right,” she said. “Could have been worse.” She glanced at her father.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning, Dardar,” Andrew said. “I’d ask how y’all were feeling,

  ’cept I figure you look pretty good to me just now.”

  A weak laugh forced its way out of Dar’s throat as she untangled Red Sky At Morning 275

  herself from Kerry’s embrace. She rolled over onto her back as her lover slid out of bed and straightened her T-shirt with as much dignity as she could muster.

  Which, to be honest, wasn’t much.

  “What was your question again?” Dar finally asked, running her fingers through her mussed hair. “Oh, right. How do I feel.” Slowly, she straightened out her body and flexed her arm. The results mildly surprised her. “Better than yesterday,” she said, lifting a hand to touch the lump on the back of her head. It seemed to have gone down some.

  “Yeah, headache’s not so bad, and my arm hurts less.”

  Andrew gave her an approving look. “Good to hear.” Kerry had snuck into the restroom with her overnight bag and was apparently utilizing the sink there with a good amount of vigor. “Had me a little worried yesterday.”

  Dar tensed her lips, then shrugged. “What a botched event that was,” she exhaled. “A total screw-up, and it was my fault.”

  Andrew rolled his eyes. “Git yer head out of that there bucket of whup, Paladar,” he scolded. “You ain’t responsible for them folks, and you know it.”

  Dar shook her head. “I should have found out more about what was going on. One of our people could have really gotten hurt in there.” She pulled herself up a little straighter. “I should have checked first.”

  Andrew looked around, then leaned over and smoothed the dark hair out of his daughter’s eyes with a gentle hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, Dar. Y’all are gonna make me start beating up my mah own head,

  ’cause sure as the day is long, I should have figgured what was up when we got there, don’t you think?”

  Dar looked at him thoughtfully.

  “Them people just knew how to use a diversion when they had one, all right?” Andrew went on. “Now we got to get them pieces back together so none of them dirty dogs gets off.” He waited for Dar to nod, and she finally did. “Good girl. I’m going to take a ride down there and see what I can figure out.”

  Dar lodged what she knew was a futile protest. “You don’t have to.

  Let me have Gerry handle it, Dad.”

  “You saying I ain’t up to this?” Andrew asked.

  “No.” Dar felt very off center. “I’m not saying that.”

  “Good.” Andrew patted her arm. “You take it easy now, Dardar.

  Keep an eye on that kumquat of yours. Make sure she gets some breakfast, all right?” He waved and started out before Dar could say a word, disappearing around the corner of the door with stealthy speed.

  Dar stared at her bare feet, sticking out from under the mussed covers, and wiggled her toes. It was not starting out to be a very organized day.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  KERRY FLEXED HER hands and peered at her laptop screen. Her report was almost done, the data cataloged neatly into columns that laid out in black and white the discrepancies she’d found. It wasn’t a smoking gun, she realized, more a pattern of carelessness and lack of accountability in moving funds from one account to the other, but the pattern was there, and if they got nothing else, would provide the government auditors a place to start.

  If nothing else. Kerry rubbed her lower lip. Mark had taken the data storage cube back and secured it at the office, but the information they may or may not have gotten from there would have to wait for Dar’s inspection. Only Dar had the algorithms to unlock the tracks they’d copied, and those were tucked inside her head and nowhere else.

  Kerry hadn’t asked her, yet, if she remembered what they were. It was a scary kind of question, and she knew concussions did strange things sometimes. She didn’t think the injury was affecting Dar, but it was hard to say; certainly her lover had been quieter and more withdrawn than usual since she’d been here.

  She knew Dar was grateful for her presence. Kerry was equally grateful that she’d followed her instincts and did what she’d done, especially after Dar had told her this morning what had happened to her as a child. “That poor little kid.” She shook her head slowly. “I wish I’d been there for you, Dar. I swear I do.”

  The room, of course, was empty except for her and her laptop. Dar had been taken down for another scan of her head and for a visit to the orthopedic surgeon. Kerry had offered to come with her, but it appeared her lapse into needing to be cuddled was getting to Dar, and her natural pride poked its head up in outrage and reasserted itself.

  There were two sides to that, Kerry admitted. One, she was a little disappointed in being gently rejected. But two, it meant Dar was feeling better, and that was a good thing. She put aside the laptop and stood up, stretching out her stiff and somewhat cramped body. Sleeping sitting up hadn’t been restful, and the couch was less so. She strolled over to the window and looked out, resting her hands on the sill and leaning on them.

  “What I should do is take a break and run the stairs a few times,”

  Red Sky At Morning 277

  she decided. “Loosen myself up a little and get some exercise.” With a nod, she went back and closed her laptop down, turning it off and slipping it inside its padded backpack. She looked around, then shrugged and shouldered the pack, shifting it until it was comfortably centered on her back. “A little extra effort won’t hurt me any, either.”

  She walked out of the room and straight to the stairwell, opening the door and letting it close behind her. Since they were on the top floor, she really only had one way to go, and so she started down the steps at a rhythmic, even pace. It was quiet in the stairwell, and clean. Kerry decided it probably wasn’t used much, since most of the movement between floors involved wheeled equipment or vehicles, which could get a little tricky going up or down stairs.

  Halfway down, at the fifth floor, she met her first fellow walker, a young man carrying a thick bag, who smiled at her as he dropped down the steps alongside. “Hi there.”

  “Hi,” Kerry replied, with a friendly smile.

  “You new here?” the man asked. “Haven’t seen you around.”

  Hmm. Kerry eyed him. He’s a cutie. The man had curly reddish hair and a lithe, athletic build. “That’s because I don’t work here,” she informed him. “I’m just visiting.”

  “Oh yeah?” He looked surprised. “I figured you were an intern or something, with that book bag. Sorry.” He flashed her a smile. “Well, that’s too bad. My name’s Curt.” He stuck out a hand.

  Kerry took it as they kept walking. “Kerry.” She produced her name. “It’s a computer backpack, actually. I work with them.”

  “Yeah?” Curt released her hand. “You don’t see many visitors taking the stairs either.” He looked down and laughed a bit. “Or staff either, to be honest. I think you’re the first person I’ve seen in here in weeks.”

  “You take them, though.” Kerry turned the corner on the steps and started down the next set. “Good exercise, right?”

  “You bet,” Curt agreed. “I have to get in all the leg work I can. I’m training for the Olympics.” He grinned at her surprised expression.

  “I’m a gymnast.”

  “Really?” Kerry turned her head to look at him. “That’s wild.”

  The man nodded. “Yeah. It is. I’ve been into it since I was a kid, but my folks could never afford me just going to school for that, so I’ve ke
pt at it on the side. I’m going to the trials next year.” He glanced over at Kerry. “You look like you’re into sports.”

  It suddenly occurred to Kerry that she was being flirted with. Hmm.

  And by a really cute guy, too. It felt...kinda cool, actually. “Oh, nothing official,” she told Curt. “I just do some diving, swimming...climbing.”

  She caught his very interested eye. “Martial arts, that sort of thing.”

  “I thought so. You’ve got great muscle tone.” Curt grinned at her.

  “Ever try gymnastics?”

  Kerry suffered a flash of memory of her childhood, the arduous 278 Melissa Good hours spent trying desperately to balance on a four-inch chunk of wood.

  “When I was younger, yes,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would make me graceful.” She adroitly dodged a pipe sticking out of one of the stairs.

  “They were right,” Curt laughed. “Hey, I just have to drop this bag off...you interested in sharing a pop?”

  Fortunately, Kerry was from the Midwest and realized he was talking about a soda, not proposing something indecent. “Wish I could.” She softened the words with an honest smile. “Thanks for asking.”

  They’d reached the bottom floor, and he shifted his bag to his other shoulder and held a hand out again. “Maybe next time, okay?”

  Kerry took it and returned his firm handshake with one of her own.

  “Sure.”

  He turned, pulled the door open, then ducked through and let it close behind him. Kerry regarded the door for a moment, then turned and leaned against the wall, folding her arms over her chest as she rested a moment before starting her climb back up. That was interesting, she mused, examining the sensation. It was nice, once in a while, to have someone think you were attractive, wasn’t it?

  Other than your partner, of course, Kerry amended hastily. She’d never suspected Dar of thinking otherwise, had she? She thought about that, then blushed a vivid crimson, remembering a certain night not that long ago when she’d looked up from working on a report in her home office to find Dar watching her from the doorway, eyes half-closed, her thoughts very evident by her expression. No, she was pretty confident that they were both very much attracted to each other. But it was nice to have a stranger give your ego a pat on the head once in a while.