"Not that I know of," he confessed.
"Then why did she say she did?"
"I think she was trying to make you feel welcome."
"Oh, what a dear. You're very fortunate to have her, Nick."
"I couldn't agree more," he assured her. Not only was Bonnie an excellent cook, she made his house a home, taking the place of his dead parents. And she was apparently determined to do the same for Liza.
Nick was pleased.
* * *
Several hours later, Liza stretched, her lashes fluttering open. She didn't move, however, being too comfortable to rush the waking up.
Until she heard a heart beat under her ear. Her eyes opened wide and she realized she was leaning on Nick, using him as her pillow. His arm was wrapped around her, but his gaze was on the television.
"I'm sorry," she said, pushing away from his warm body. "You must be stiff from having to hold me. You should've wakened me."
"Why? I was planning on you sleeping."
"But—You tricked me, Nick Hathaway!"
"Not guilty, Liza Colton. I didn't lure you to sleep. I just offered the opportunity. You're the one who closed your eyes—smack dab in the middle of the game you professed to love."
"I do enjoy it. I guess I was just more tired than I expected. I'm eating and sleeping all the time, it seems. When will I be back to normal?" If that were possible while Nick was around. Just looking at him caused her pulse to race, and made her want to dive back into his comforting embrace.
"In a couple of weeks. But you'll need to take it easy even then. Do you have singing dates scheduled?"
"I told Mother to cancel everything for the next four weeks, to give myself plenty of time. I don't want to try to concentrate on performing while Emily is still in trouble."
He nodded. He'd asked very few questions about her conversation with Emily, for which she'd been grateful. She wasn't sure it was wise to tell anyone, even him.
"Ready for your chocolate pie?"
To her surprise, she was. "You know, I think I am." She laughed. "I'm going to have to go on a diet when I leave here."
Nick instantly frowned. "I want no talk of diets, young lady. Eat sensibly, that's the key."
"Does sensible eating include chocolate pie?"
"It's part of a healthy variety," he assured her.
When she started to rise as he did, he put a hand on her shoulder, easing her back onto the sofa. "I'll bring it. You rest."
They'd almost finished their pie and milk when the phone rang. Nick picked up the portable resting on the coffee table and answered.
"Dr. Hathaway, this is Detective Ramsey."
With a warning look in her direction, Nick said, "Yes, Detective. How are you?"
Liza pressed her ear close to the receiver so she could hear the conversation.
"Fine. Did you take Ms. Colton to the airport?"
Nick said calmly, "No, I didn't. The hotel offered to send her in a limo." He winked at Liza. "You know how these stars are. She took them up on it at once. Is there a problem?"
"I'm not sure. We tried to contact her at the number she gave us. Left a message, but she hasn't contacted us."
"She was quite tired. She may sleep for hours at a time. But I thought you'd wrapped up your investigation."
"We had reports of a man similar to her description at the airport. The security guards called us. We wanted to make sure she arrived home safely."
"I see. I thought maybe you'd heard something about her cousin."
Dead silence followed his statement.
"Why would you ask that?" the detective roughly demanded.
Liza shot a startled glance at Nick, who was frowning.
"I'm not sure. You have, haven't you?"
More silence. "We just need to know where Ms. Colton is."
"Why?" Nick demanded.
"I don't think that's any of your business, Doctor, unless you know something about Ms. Colton that you're not telling me. I'd hate to have to arrest you, a respectable doctor, for interfering in a police investigation."
"All I know is Liza talked about disappearing for a few days because she was frightened by that man. I assumed that's what she meant when she told her mother she wouldn't answer her phone or the door."
"Do you have a phone number for her mother?"
Nick chuckled. "You've obviously never talked to the woman. No one would do so willingly." Then he winced as Liza elbowed him in the ribs.
"What do you mean?"
"Let's just say she's not an easy woman to talk to."
"What about Ms. Colton's home in California?"
"Detective, I was her doctor—and only briefly. Her New York apartment number is all I have. I suppose you could call her Uncle Joe, Joe Colton. Maybe she contacted him."
Liza shook her head violently. She didn't want Uncle Joe worrying about her, and she couldn't call him from here to reassure him. The number might show up on his caller ID.
The detective sighed in frustration. "Look, I need some advice and you spent the most time with the lady."
"You mean Ms, Colton?"
"Yeah, Ms. Colton." Detective Ramsey sounded annoyed. "Do you think she and her cousin might've concocted this whole setup?"
Liza was even startled by the detective's question, and her indignant gaze shot to Nick. He slightly shook his head. "Absolutely not. Ms. Colton's medical condition stemmed from the shock of her cousin's disappearance and her consequent lack of sleep and food. No one would do that to herself."
"I've heard of stranger things. And if that's true, how come she's doing so much better? Unless she's heard from her cousin and didn't tell anyone."
Liza feared Nick had painted himself into a corner.
But he calmly answered, "She's doing better because I sedated her enough that her body took over while her mind was shut down. I probably should've kept her here longer, because she may reverse her recovery. But I couldn't legitimately detain her."
"Hmmm."
"Why would you think that anyway, Detective?"
"For a pretty good reason, Doctor. Mr. Colton received a phone call—from her apartment."
"He did?" Nick repeated.
Liza was stunned. Why would someone call from her apartment unless…he'd broken in.
Eight
Nick stared at Liza's stunned expression even as he held the phone. Then, without consulting her, he said, "Detective, I think it would be a good idea if we spoke in person. Can you come to my house?"
After a tense silence, the detective said, "Yeah. When's convenient?"
"I know it's Sunday, but I think now would be a good time."
"Me, too. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Detective Ramsey hung up without saying goodbye.
"Nick! What are you doing? He'll figure out I'm here. You promised to hide me, not show me off to the police!" Panic was in her voice as she shoved away from him.
"You're not thinking, honey," he said quietly. "If we don't let them know you've been here all along, that you didn't make that call, the investigation is going to get off-track. And, frankly, I'm not interested in being arrested."
"Okay, then, I'll pack and disappear." She leaped from the couch, obviously putting her words into action.
Nick grabbed her hand, holding her back. "You don't need to do that. It won't hurt for the police to know where you are. They'll keep it secret."
"From my family? I don't think so."
She had a point. But he still thought he'd done the right thing. "You'll have to explain to the detective why your family can't know."
"How can I do that?" she cried, frustration and anger in her voice. Even with the stress she was under, Nick noted that her voice was pure and beautiful.
"Tell him why."
"It doesn't make sense, Nick. No one will believe me. He'll know I talked to Emily, and—I can't betray her."
"No, he won't. You suspected your aunt from the beginning, didn't you?"
"Maybe. I knew things weren't rig
ht and Emily confirmed it. Kidnapping her wasn't the goal. And killing her didn't make sense unless it was Aunt Meredith, or whoever the woman is."
"You think killing was the motive? But the ransom note? What about that?" he asked, staring at her.
"Emily—She said the man was trying to kill her."
Nick frowned. "Maybe you could not mention that you think it was attempted murder. Just tell the detective that you suspect someone in the family is involved. That won't be a big surprise. It's frequently the case where a victim knows the perpetrator of a crime." He ran his hands up and down her arms to calm her.
Unfortunately, that action had a reverse effect on him. It had been difficult enough to hold her against him while she slept, knowing she trusted him to hold her and not take advantage of her. Now, with her awake, intensely involved in their conversation, the urge to take her in his arms again, to kiss her soft lips, to claim her, for at least a while, was strong.
"Let me go, Nick. I need to get out of here. You haven't given me enough time to—"
"If you go, you'll be in danger, Liza. You can't go to your apartment. The man will be watching it."
"Why do you think that?"
"Who do you suppose made the phone call from your apartment?"
She sank back onto the couch. "Oh, mercy, I hadn't thought of that. You think he was there? But I have a doorman. He wouldn't let anyone in my apartment. He couldn't have—But who—" She closed her eyes, as if she couldn't face the reality of what he was saying. "What if I'd really gone home?" she muttered, her voice rising.
Nick didn't pull his punches. She had to understand how serious her situation was. "You might be dead by now."
Her face paled. "And maybe Emily, too," she whispered. "He might have been able to force me to tell him."
"Yeah."
To his surprise, she threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Nick, thank you for bringing me here. You saved my life!"
He held her against him and dropped a kiss on her temple. The thought of anyone harming the beautiful woman in his arms was horrifying. As was the possibility of her not being in his life. He drew her across his lap and held her close.
After several minutes, she pushed away from his chest. "I have to tell them, don't I?"
"Just where you are and why you tried to hide. Even if the detective doesn't believe your reasons, I think he'll keep your whereabouts secret. But he can reassure your uncle that you're safe without giving away your location."
"I hadn't thought about worrying Uncle Joe. Not really. I thought he'd believe I was resting in my apartment."
"I'm sure someone has already told him the call came from your apartment. He must be beside himself with worry." Nick pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her again, unable to resist the temptation. "I know I would be," he muttered.
She struggled from his arms and stood. "I shouldn't have thrown myself at you. I'm sorry."
"I promised I wouldn't make demands on you, Liza. I keep my promises," he assured her. He'd die if she became afraid to be alone with him.
"All the more reason I shouldn't—It wasn't fair of me to take advantage of you."
"I'm not a teenager, Liza. In fact, you'll consider me quite old. I'm thirty-eight, twelve years older than you. I do have some self-discipline." He wouldn't tell her how weak that self-discipline seemed to be since she'd come into his life.
She nodded but took another step back, as if she could read his thoughts in his eyes.
"Too old for you?" he asked ruefully, wondering if she had any idea what he was asking.
"No! No, you aren't too old for anything. And I appreciate your honesty." Her voice was breathy, as if she'd been jogging.
Before he could respond, the doorbell rang.
He looked at his watch. "Either Detective Ramsey is faster than he said, or we have another caller. You stay here and don't make any noise."
Leaving her standing beside the couch, he closed the door behind him and hurried to the front door, not wanting Bonnie to be involved in what was going on. Detective Ramsey stood on the porch.
He opened the door. "You're quicker than you said," he pointed out even as he invited him in.
"There was no traffic," the man said, his gaze razor-sharp as he stared at Nick.
Nick knew he'd hurried because he was afraid something might happen before he could get here. He didn't blame the detective. Left to Liza, that was exactly what might have happened.
"This way," Nick said, not bothering to explain anything.
He opened the door to the den. But Liza wasn't standing by the couch anymore. For a second, his heart clutching, Nick thought she might've run, as she'd wanted.
Then he saw her standing behind the door. The detective wasn't far enough into the room to see her. Nick stood aside to wave him in. Then he closed the door and took Liza's hand.
"Detective Ramsey, I lied to you on the phone, as you can see. Liza is here, and has been here since last evening."
The detective stared at Liza. "So I see."
Nick tugged on Liza's hand, pulling her with him to the first sofa. "If you'll sit down, I think we can explain our reasons."
"I hope so, or I'll be arresting both of you for obstruction…or something," Ramsey growled.
Nick sighed as Liza tried to get away. The policeman hadn't eased any of her fears. "Come on, Liza. It'll be all right."
Once they were all seated, Nick said, "Liza wanted to disappear because she feared the man would find her. I offered to bring her here."
The detective shot him a sarcastic grin. "Mighty big of you."
Nick wanted to punch his lights out, but he controlled his anger. "I knew my housekeeper would enjoy the company and could keep an eye on Liza while I worked. And we could keep her presence a secret. I don't entertain much."
"You have a housekeeper?"
"Yes," Nick replied succinctly, glaring at the officer.
"I understand the lady's fears and why you'd help her. What I don't understand is keeping it a secret from us. We're here to help."
Nick looked at Liza and nodded.
He was still holding her hand and felt the tension in her. But she gathered her courage and answered the question.
"The problem with telling you, Detective Ramsey, is that you would inform my family."
The detective's hands jerked and his gaze sharpened. "Why would that be a problem, Ms. Colton?"
Liza looked at Nick again and he nodded in support.
"I—I think—It's possible someone in my family is involved."
"Who?"
Liza didn't respond to the sharp question.
Nick spoke up. "What Ms. Colton is asking you, Detective, is if you'll keep her location a secret from anyone else involved in the case. She wanted you to know she hadn't made the phone call so the investigation wouldn't go off-track."
"And what I want to know is who she suspects of being involved in the kidnapping." The man's features were grim and determined.
Nick looked at Liza again. Only she could answer that question.
She licked her lips.
He squeezed her hand in support, but he didn't attempt to answer for her. It had to come from her.
"Before I tell you," Liza began, hesitancy in her voice, "I must warn you that my reasons won't make much sense to you." She shrugged. "That doesn't stop me from believing them."
"Okay."
"My—my aunt Meredith and my cousin were involved in an accident nine years ago. When I first returned to Uncle Joe's house, I discovered Emily pale and frightened. She told me then what she hadn't told anyone else." She paused, seeming to collect her thoughts. "At the time of the accident, she'd seen two Aunt Merediths."
"Did she suffer a head injury in the crash?" the detective asked.
Liza pulled her hand from Nick's and squeezed her two hands together, staring at them. "She had a concussion, but that's not the point, Detective. The point is my cousin has remained convinced that she saw two identical women at
the accident."
"That doesn't make sense, Ms. Colton."
"I warned you," she pointed out to the detective. "But there was something else. My aunt's behavior changed radically from that day on. She went from being a warm, loving person to a cold, selfish egotist. Her love of gardening, which had turned the home into a paradise, disappeared overnight. The kind, patient employer became a demanding tyrant. The loving wife disappeared. My uncle's marriage has degenerated into…a legal piece of paper."
"Did your cousin ever confront her?" Ramsey asked.
"Detective, my cousin was only eleven. And confused. But she did once tell my uncle that she'd seen two Merediths at the wreck. In front of my aunt, who according to Emily, stared at her with hateful intensity and told her to stop being foolish. Since then, my aunt has watched her with evil intent in her gaze."
"If the woman didn't do anything for nine years, why did things change?"
"A month ago Emily questioned her mother's identity to one of the longtime employees. Meredith overheard her and threatened Emily."
"Were there any witnesses?"
"No. She may be an awful person, but she's not stupid."
"Kidnapping seems a strange response," the detective pointed out, his gaze calculating as he stared at Liza.
"Yes, it does," Liza said.
Nick noted she was calmer now that she'd explained. He thought Ramsey might even believe her, at least a little.
"You see, Aunt Meredith has had two children since the accident. Kidnapping either of those children would've paid off more handsomely than the kidnapping of an adopted child, one would think."
"Maybe they were more closely guarded," Ramsey suggested.
"Probably, but Emily's bedroom is on the second floor, only accessible by entering the house. Why would they focus on her? And they had to be able to find her room. It had to be on purpose that they chose Emily, not a random kidnapping of anyone connected to Joe Colton."
Admiration rose in Nick as he realized Liza had applied logic to her cousin's situation, in spite of being emotionally involved. She was an intelligent woman. He could tell she'd impressed the detective, too.
"You have a point there, Ms. Colton." He stood and began pacing the room. Then he stopped to face her. "Now, I'm willing to concede that for the moment we should keep your location a secret. But I've got to notify the FBI that you're safe and not involved in the kidnapping. I'm not sure they'll agree to your stipulation. And I've got to call your uncle."
The Doctor Delivers Page 8