by Desiree Holt
She rose from her chair, placing Clark’s hand back on the sheet and bent to kiss his cheek.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart. You just hang on, okay?”
“We’ll watch out for him, Mrs. Hauser.”
She hadn’t seen the nurse in the doorway pushing her medicine cart. All the nurses were so wonderful. Even though they all believed Clark’s condition was hopeless they treated him with tender care and talked to him as if he could really hear them. Whatever happened, she’d never forget their kindness.
“Thank you. I’m just going outside for a moment to return some calls.”
“Take your time. Get some fresh air. It helps to clear the head.”
Gayle nodded, but she knew nothing would clear her head except a cure for Clark.
Once outside she dialed the number, her hands shaking slightly.
“Where were you?” the man asked at once, his voice sounding harsh.
“In Clark’s room. I have to keep my phone on vibrate,” she explained apologetically. She certainly didn’t want him angry with her. “This is the first chance I’ve had to return your call.”
“I just don’t want you to miss this opportunity.”
Her fingers tightened on the cell. “Does this mean I can call her now?”
“She’s finally clear of the media, so she’s more likely to say yes. I’d call late in the afternoon.”
Gayle frowned. “Why? Is there some reason I have to wait?”
“Let’s give her the whole day without strangers hanging around. Time to relax and be more receptive.”
“Whatever you say.”
“And call me back as soon as you talk to her.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “I will. Absolutely.”
All the way back to Clark’s room she prayed that Lauren Cahill would answer her plea. She was Clark’s last hope.
* * * * *
“So you really think the dream had something to do with me?” Lauren asked, looking hopefully at Mia.
“I’m hoping it did.” Mia broke off a piece of the flaky pastry on her plate and nibbled at it. “You were the last thing on my mind when I went to sleep last night. Everything was still fresh, still new. I’m hoping my subconscious picked up signals.”
Dan tapped his finger on the folder next to him. “Also, Andy has narrowed the possibilities down to only four or five.”
“How did he do that?” Lauren was curious how he’d eliminated so many of the possibilities so fast.
“The Dragonslayer ran profiles on everyone in the immediate circle of your patients starting about six months before the calls began. He used specific parameters to eliminate people, including the wider family circle and close friends.” He smiled. “Nearly all of your patients and their circle of friends and relatives were extremely happy with what you did.”
“So what did you use to identify the ones left?”
“Someone who might have reason to resent you,” he told her. “Or the patient. Or the family for calling you in.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “I can’t imagine what I did making anyone unhappy. Who wouldn’t want to see a friend or family member cured and well?”
Troy took her hand and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “You have to realize there are people out there who are selfish. Maybe you helped someone who now inherits an estate. Or a business. Or gets some kind of something that someone else wants.”
She sighed. “I know you’re right. It just makes me sick to think about it.”
“But that’s what’s going to help us hone in on your stalker,” Mia reminded her.
“Let me go over what we’ve got in each of these profiles,” Dan said. “Then Mia can tell you about her dream and we’ll see if there’s a match.”
They went over each description carefully, Dan and Troy both asking Lauren questions as they went item by item. They questioned her about the attitudes of the people around the patients—family, friends, even the doctor. It always bothered her to think a doctor would be so narrow-minded that he’d actually resent her helping one of his patients, but she’d run into it too many times to shrug it off.
When they finished going over each file Lauren refilled everyone’s mugs. She didn’t know about them but she needed the coffee to steady her nerves.
“Okay, Mia.” Dan took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re on.”
Lauren listened carefully as the other woman described her dream in vivid detail. When she finished she leaned back in her chair.
“Well?” Dan asked “Any of this ring any bells?”
“I suppose,” Troy interjected, “it would be too much to hope that one of your patients was named for a flower or had a relative that was.”
Lauren scrubbed her hands over her face. “No. Not that. But something’s tugging at my memory. Give me a minute.”
She closed her eyes and tried to sort out fragments of images rushing through her brain. It was there, that elusive thought, if she could just tug it out.
“Can you ask Andy to check something out?” she asked Dan.
“Sure. He can find anything. Did something ring a bell with you?”
“Maybe. Have him check a family named Switzer. I healed their daughter, Cindy. She had a bad infection that none of the antibiotics were helping. That was about three years ago. I have a very faint memory there was kind of an upheaval in their family.” She snapped her fingers. “And they owned a commercial greenhouse.” She gave a small laugh. “They called it Green Acres, after that old television show. They were joking about it when I was there after…afterward.”
Dan already had his cell out and was speed dialing his office. It took him only seconds to tell Andy what they wanted and less than five minutes before Andy sent an email to his phone.
“I think this is the one,” he told everyone. “The Switzers have a son, Nolan, who has a record of mental health problems. He’s been in and out of treatment for years. From what Andy dug up, he grew up insanely jealous of his sister. The last time he came home, Cindy was ill and they thought he was much better because he spent all his time with her. For which, of course, they praised him. Made him feel important.”
Lauren swallowed the sudden bitter taste in her mouth. “I remember now. He was so angry when I healed his sister and changed the family dynamics. His parents tried to keep him away from me, but he told them I was some kind of witch and they’d all go to hell because I was brought in. His parents wanted me to heal him too, but I tried to explain to them that my healing didn’t extend to mental illness.” She shook her head. “I remember reading something shortly after I was there about a fire at their business. I wondered if he’d set it in his anger and resentment.”
“That goes right along with the things your stalker’s been spewing over the phone,” Troy acknowledged. “But if he’s that dangerous, why isn’t he in an institution?”
Dan scrolled through the email. “According to Andy, who found a number of articles, they never actually proved he set the fire and shortly after that he disappeared.”
Troy frowned. “And they never tried to find him?”
“They’re not a family who likes that kind of publicity,” Lauren told them, “and I think he was an embarrassment to them. They weren’t sure how to deal with him. Cindy was really the light of their lives. It’s possible they just washed their hands of him. They’re an extremely wealthy family so he’d have access to money.”
Troy raised his eyebrows. “So they just let him roam around doing god knows what?”
“You have to understand. Cindy was so sick for so long she was the entire focus of her parents’ lives. When she recovered they spent all their time enjoying her.”
“And didn’t want to deal with their son who had turned out to be a nutjob,” Dan guessed.
“Most likely. The atmosphere at their home was very unsettled. I wasn’t even sure my gift would be able to work because of it.”
“So they effectively washed t
heir hands of him,” Troy said, his voice edged with anger. “And now he’s out there, probably right in this city, with a vendetta against you.”
“And,” Mia added, “he’s been working himself up to this point for a long time. From the sound of those calls he’s really escalated, to the point where he’s ready to take action.”
“Did Andy send a picture of him?” Troy asked.
Dan nodded and pulled it up on the screen of his cell. “We need to print it out.”
“My printer’s wireless,” Lauren told him. “All you have to do is log into my network and send it to print.” She gave him the name of her network and the guest password to use.
Dan made the copies quickly and handed one out to everyone. They sat around the table studying the image.
“I don’t even recognize him now,” Lauren said slowly. “And if he showed up around here in the last few days, well, I haven’t set foot outside the house in several days. You know that.”
“But we’ve had a guard out there twenty four/seven,” Troy reminded her. “Let me get him on the horn and we can send the picture to his cell. See if it rings any bells.”
The guard confirmed that yes, he’d seen someone who looked like that a couple of times, talking to some of the reporters.
“Great.” Troy shook his head “We have to find this guy before he can get to Lauren.”
“Well then,” Dan said, picking up the folder, “we’d better put a plan together and get busy. This is one of the things we do best, right?”
* * * * *
The Cleaner lay on the couch with a cold pack on his head. The pain had intensified over the past couple of days to where the pills barely took the edge off it. He knew it was that damn witch. The headache was a signal that it was time to stop the phone calls and rid the world of her altogether. If he could just make himself think for a few minutes.
He was sure the man was still in her house with her. The Cleaner happened to catch him giving the media hell the few times he’d mingled with the gawkers and curiosity-seekers. Didn’t he know how evil she was? That every moment he was with her he was in danger?
Look what happened with Cindy. It was bad enough when she was sick all the time and the center of everyone’s universe. But after the witch cast her spells, Cindy’s personality changed and the family was even more focused on her. And where did that leave him?
Nowhere.
Maybe worse than nowhere.
No matter what he did, he could tell they just wanted to be rid of him. Almost as if they’d written him off completely. If he just got rid of the she-devil, things could go back to the way they were.
But first he had to do something about the damn headache, which was truly driving him insane.
* * * * *
Lauren thought if she never drank another cup of coffee in her life it would be too soon. During the past few days she’d consumed more than she usually did in an entire year. So when she brewed another pot for the Romeos and Troy, she switched to tea for herself. Chamomile. Something to soothe her nerves.
Just thinking about Nolan Switzer gave her the shivers. How had she managed to forget the look in his eyes when he’d tried to talk to her, a look that wasn’t quite rational? Probably because she’d buried it deep in her mind, sure she’d never have to deal with him again.
Oh there were always the usual assortment of cranks, people who thought she was a fake or those unfortunate ones who thought she could work real miracles and were angry when she couldn’t. But none had ever approached the level of Nolan Switzer. Listening to Troy and his friends discuss the situation, for the first time she felt real fear.
As if sensing what she was feeling, Troy put one of his hands over hers and squeezed gently.
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was warm, reassuring. “I promise.”
“He’s right,” Mia chimed in. “These men protect their own.”
Heat crept up Lauren’s cheeks. “Oh but I’m not—”
“Yes,” Troy interrupted. “You are.” As if to mark his claim on her for the others he leaned over and kissed her, just a soft brush of lips. “You are.”
And somehow that grounded her and counteracted the fear.
“Okay, folks.” Dan had brought his laptop with him and now had it open in front of him on the table. “Andy sent me everything he could find on this Switzer guy, including three or four pictures. I gave him some parameters to work with so he could target areas of San Antonio where Switzer might tuck himself away. It’s a big city, and we don’t want to advertise what we’re doing by calling in a big team. Let’s see what you and I and Mark can do, Troy. We’ve found people with a lot less to go on.”
“Meanwhile,” Troy said, “let’s beef up the outside security. Put a car on the street behind us here so we’ve got eyes front and back in addition to the cameras.”
“Good.” Dan nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Lauren, let’s get more copies of this photo printed so I can hand them out to key people.”
“Okay. Let me just put some glossy stock in the paper tray.”
Troy followed her into the den and, when she’d finished loading paper, drew her into his arms.
“I want you to know that I really will keep you safe, sugar. And Phoenix will get this guy before he can do you any physical harm.”
Lauren leaned into the hard wall of his body, feeling the strength of it. “You know, ever since I left home, went out on my own, even with the support of Geoff and Lisa I’ve always felt isolated. Now, suddenly you’re in my life and I feel…”
“Complete?” He cradled her head in the palm of his hand. “I sure hope so, because that goes for me too. You’re not alone anymore and you never will be again.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Can it happen this fast and be real?”
“It damn sure feels like it.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, gentle pressure at first then firmer. He took the kiss deeper, slowly sliding his tongue into her mouth. The kiss made her languid, liquid, ready to melt into him.
The sound of a woman’s voice broke into the moment, startling them.
“Damn it,” Troy swore. “I must have left the volume turned up last time I checked the call log. Let me hit the button.”
“No, wait.” Lauren touched his arm. “That’s a woman and it isn’t someone I know.”
“And gave me your number,” the voice was saying. “They said they were sure you’d be able to help me.” The woman’s voice broke. “You’re really our last chance, Miss Cahill. Please, when you get this message, could you call me right back?”
The woman left a number, then hung up.
“Play it back from the beginning,” Lauren said. “I missed part of it.” She listened carefully to the entire message, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. “I have to call her,” she told Troy. “She needs my help.”
She went to pull her cell phone from her pocket, but Troy’s fingers closed around her wrist.
“Lauren, you can’t do this until Nolan Switzer is safely tucked away. It’s too risky. He could pick you off anywhere along the line.”
“But this woman needs me now,” she protested. “I’ll check out her story. I always do. But it sounds like she doesn’t have a lot of time. Or at least her husband doesn’t.”
Troy shook his head. “I know how you feel, but I’m not playing games with your life. Call her back, explain that you’re in a tricky situation and as soon as it’s cleared up you’ll call her back.”
She felt tears for the unknown patient clogging her throat. “I just hope it’s not too late for her husband.”
“We’ll do the best we can to wrap this up quickly. Believe me, I don’t want that nutjob running around here any longer. So call the woman back and explain it to her the best you can. Tell her you’ll get back to her just as fast as you can.”
“What shall I tell her?”
“The truth always works best. With all the media coverage the past week, I’m su
re a stalker won’t sound too unlikely to her.”
“Oh Miss Cahill, how awful,” Gayle Hauser said when Lauren explained. “And I certainly don’t want to compromise your safety.”
“I appreciate that,” Lauren told her, making her voice as soothing as possible.
“But—but do you have any idea when that will be?” Her voice was thready and Lauren could tell the woman was on the verge of tears.
“When?” she mouthed at Troy.
“Tell her you’ll call her tomorrow. You’ll know better by then.”
She relayed the message to Gayle, putting as much sympathy for the woman as she could into her tone of voice.
“Even if the stalker’s still on the loose,” she added, “I’ll see if we can work something out.”
“Oh Miss Cahill. You have no idea how grateful I’d be. I’ll wait for your call.”
“Not a good move,” Troy said the moment she disconnected the call. “I can’t guarantee we’ll wrap this up by then.”
“I understand, but if Phoenix is that good you should be able to figure out a way for me to get in and out of the house and then to the hospital and keep me safe.”
“We’ll do our best,” he assured her, “but I’m not gambling with your life.”
“Meanwhile, there’s something else you can do if you want to help.”
“What’s that?”
“I always check out the people who call me. But it sounds like this Andy and his Dragonslayer can do it faster and better than I can. If I give you the names, can you ask him to do it?”
Troy nodded. “Right away.” He gathered the photos from the printer tray. “And let’s see if Dan’s come up with any bright ideas.”
* * * * *
Gayle Hauser clutched her cell phone, her stomach tied in knots. They couldn’t lose this opportunity. They just couldn’t. It was Clark’s life on the line, as well as a lifeboat to save them from their terrible financial crisis.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, barely able to get the words past the tightness in her throat. “She was adamant. And I got the impression there was someone with her telling her she couldn’t go.”