by Sykes, V. K.
Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, asshole. I get it. You don’t want to be like your sister. So you’d rather let Holly break your heart.”
Nate grimaced. “I can take it better.”
“Then deal with it, man,” Jake glared at him. “You can’t have it both ways. Holly’s proud, and she’s not going to go running back to you. If you won’t make the change, then you gotta move on.”
“I know,” Nate said, even though the thought of never seeing Holly again made him feel sick. But Jake was right. Time to move on.
“At least I’ll be able to pitch again soon,” he said, trying to sound optimistic.
“You’re cleared for a rehab assignment, right?”
“Tomorrow. They’re sending me up to Ottawa. I’ll pitch there Thursday, and if everything goes okay, I’ll be activated on Monday.” The Ottawa Cougars were the Patriots’ Triple-A team. Players rehabbing from injuries were usually sent there to play a few games before returning to the major league team.
“Can’t come too soon,” Jake said, getting back up. “We need you bad. And speaking of needing you bad, you hear anything about the Dodgers yet? Do they want you or not?”
Nate snorted. “I asked Dembinski again yesterday. He said nothing’s going on. Buddy Baker’s got his ear to the ground in L.A., but he hasn’t heard anything more, either.” And that pissed him off. He didn’t need the uncertainty of his status with the Patriots on top of everything else going wrong in his life. “But I’m sure the Dodgers are waiting until I’ve got a few games under my belt and look completely recovered. I don’t blame them. Nobody’s going to want a sore-armed pitcher.”
“Good,” Jake said. “Sorry, man, but I hope the bastards leave you right where you are.”
“I know. The whole thing’s really messing with my head. Maybe it’s all just smoke, but I wish I knew one way or the other.”
His friend gave him a disbelieving look. “Yeah, not knowing if something you care about is a sure thing or not—a real bitch, isn’t it?”
Nate scowled at him. “Fuck off, Miller.”
Jake’s mocking laughter followed Nate all the way into the showers.
* * *
Holly trudged wearily up her front walk, worn out by her day of shopping with Maddie. Well, actually it was the conversation about Nate that had worn her out more than anything else. She truly looked forward to the day when he wasn’t the first thing that popped into her head in the morning and the last thing before she fell asleep at night.
And everything else in between, too.
Stepping inside, she dumped her bags on the floor and flipped shut the new deadbolt. She’d already hired a locksmith to replace all the locks in her house with top of the line models. The only thing not crossed off her to-do list of beefed-up security measures was the installation of the alarm system. The company she’d hired to do that had a great reputation, but they were too busy to schedule her installation until the following week. Still, the new locks gave her comfort, and she’d almost convinced herself that she had nothing to worry about, anyway.
Maybe it was even true, since Lance Arnold seemed to have disappeared. Holly hadn’t heard a word from him since she left for Florida. Not since the police had met with him. Perhaps the jerk had finally realized that he was skating on thin ice, and had decided to pull back on the intimidation factor.
Tomorrow would tell the tale, though, since she might be in front of a judge. The hospital’s motion for a court order compelling Tyler’s surgery was on the docket. Arnold had been served, and would have a lawyer in court. The hospital’s lawyer had told her she probably wouldn’t have to testify because he’d filed comprehensive affidavits from Rosen, Morris and her. Holly had been praying really hard for that to be the case. She knew she’d do a credible job on the witness stand, but the thought of facing Arnold in open court sickened her.
She wandered into her living room and gazed out at the stately sycamores that lined her lovely street. She thought back to how warm and secure she’d felt when Nate had been there with her. Her cute house had felt so cozy then. Now the place seemed cold and empty as she rattled around it by herself.
Maybe all the new furniture and the home theater system she’d bought with Maddie would help her feel more relaxed. It would be delivered the next day. The dark chocolate leather sofa and matching love seat would make the living room more inviting and comfortable, for sure.
More comfortable, but still empty in the way that really counted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The cell phone vibrated against Holly’s hip. She normally avoided talking on the cell when she was driving, but the eastbound traffic was bumper to bumper for miles ahead, and her car was moving at about the same pace as a brisk walk. Talking on the phone didn’t constitute much of a hazard at that speed.
Whenever the phone rang she still got a little jolt, unconsciously thinking it might be Nate. The inevitable letdown never failed to remind her how much she missed him.
She pulled the phone from the pocket of her short leather jacket and flipped it open. “Hello.”
“Ah, the lovely Doctor Bell. Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you?”
The ugly, gravelly voice sent shock waves through her body. Involuntarily, her foot stabbed at the brake as she snapped the phone closed. She took it off instantly and accelerated, but a loud screech from behind made her cringe. The driver of the pickup truck behind her swung out into the left lane and roared alongside, flipping her the bird. Luckily, she couldn’t hear the obvious string of obscenities he launched at her as he passed.
Holly took a deep breath. She’d almost caused a crash, and was incredibly lucky she hadn’t. Get a grip, girl.
The phone rang again. She knew she shouldn’t pick it up. The thought of talking to Arnold made her stomach clench hard. So, she could hardly believe it when she pressed the talk button.
“Hey doc, what the hell happened? You okay?” She could hear the sneer in his voice.
“Yes,” she snapped. “No thanks to you. I damn near caused a crash.”
“Sorry to hear that. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
“Didn’t you tell the police you were going to leave me alone?” she said, her voice as icy as she could make it.
“Screw the police. Oh, wait a minute. Maybe you’re already doing that.” His laugh was close to a cackle.
Holly clenched her teeth. “I thought you’d come to your senses, Arnold. But apparently not.”
“My senses are the least of your worries, Doc. Anyway, this court thing. We should talk about that. You sure you really want to go ahead with it?”
Holly swerved right and pulled off onto a nearby exit. She’d completely lost her focus and had to get off the highway before she rammed into somebody. There was a Wawa convenience store ahead where she could park until she got this jerk off the phone.
“Still there, Doc?”
“Look, Arnold,” she said. “You know we’re going to get that court order. And I’ll be in the operating room with Tyler as soon as the judge hands it down.”
A derisive snort. “Not if you know what’s good for you, you won’t. This is your last chance to change your mind. If you go to court, you’re done. You won’t be operating on Tyler or anybody else.”
Her stomach cramped again, so hard that she had to gasp.
A direct threat. She had to call Rich immediately. Had to get Arnold picked up. Surely a threat like this would do it?
She summoned up all her courage. “Like I said before, you can’t intimidate me. Your son’s life is at stake here.”
“Tyler’s all right now and you damn well know it,” he growled. “You could discharge him today if you wanted to. This is all about you, bitch. Not him. You just want to be the goddamn hero.”
Holly shivered at the visceral hatred lacing his voice. But as frightened as she was, she wanted to finally have it out with him. She couldn’t control a lot in her life right now, but she could control what happe
ned to little Tyler.
“You’re not a stupid man, Arnold. The surgery isn’t a perfect solution, but you’re smart enough to know it’ll prolong your son’s life. Maybe even give him a chance at some kind of normality down the road.”
She pulled into the Wawa parking lot and stopped. There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Arnold, are you there?”
“Yeah, but all I’m hearing is bullshit.”
“No, you’re the one who’s talking bullshit,” she retorted. “Why don’t we talk about the real reason you want to stop the surgery?”
The bastard needed to know he wasn’t fooling her. She felt her courage growing by the second.
A couple of more seconds of silence, then a snarl. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Something inside her snapped, and fury roared to the surface. “You don’t want Tyler to get better, do you, Arnold? God help you, I think you actually want him to die. He’s just too much of a burden for you, isn’t he? And you can’t kill him like—”
She bit off the words. She had no basis to level the accusation, even if she knew in her heart it was true.
“What the fuck are you trying to say, you stupid cow?” Arnold’s low, rage-filled voice hammered away at her thin line of defense.
Holly breathed deeply several times, trying to slow down her racing heart. “I’m calling the police now,” she said.
“You’re insane,” he said. “Delusional. You’re the last person in the world who should be taking a knife to a kid.”
“I’m going to save your son’s life. And I’m going to make sure you never get near him again. How’s that for a threat?” She barely held back the quaver in her voice.
An ugly laugh drifted over the line. “An empty one. Remember, stop that court order, or you’re done. It sounds like you know what I’m capable of doing when I have to.”
She thought she might throw up. Her stomach was doing flips and she was sweating like she was in a sauna. “Tell that to Detective Rich. No. Better yet, I’ll tell him,” she said, trying to sound a lot more confident than she felt.
Arnold laughed, and until the day she died, that ugly, unhinged sound would haunt her memory.
“Yeah, Rich got all worked up when he paid me a visit. The way he got on my ass, I really think you two must have something going. Plus, I haven’t seen you hanging with the baseball hero lately.” He laughed again. “Anyway, you can wish your cop pal good luck in finding me. He’ll need it.”
Holly heard a click and the line went dead. She rested her sweating brow against the steering wheel, forcing her erratic breathing under control. How did he know she and Nate were no longer together? God, the psycho must still be watching her.
And he must have gone to ground after the cops put pressure on him. She’d thought he might appear in court this week, but not anymore. He must have known his legal case was hopeless. That’s why he’d called to threaten her again.
Five minutes later she was home. As soon as she got in the door and threw the deadbolt, she fished Rich’s card out of her bag and punched in the numbers. She breathed a quick sigh of thanks when he picked up right away. “Detective Rich? It’s Holly Bell.”
“How are you, Dr. Bell?” Rich’s voice already had a note of concern in it.
“I was fine until ten minutes ago. Lance Arnold called me again.”
“I figured that as soon as I heard your voice. Did you talk to him, or was it another message?”
“Oh, we talked, all right. At some length.”
“That probably wasn’t the best idea, Doctor.”
“Probably not,” Holly said. “But for some reason I couldn’t stop myself.”
“What did he say?”
“More threats. We’re going for the court order, and he told me that if we get it, I’m done. Quote, unquote.”
“Anything else?”
She quickly filled him in on the rest. “He also said to wish you good luck in finding him,” she finished.
“So, he’s gone or going into hiding,” Rich said. “He knows we’d pick him up fast after a call like that.”
“You’ll still be able to find him, won’t you?” She hated the pleading note in her voice, but going over it all with the detective ramped up her anxiety.
Rich hesitated, and Holly started to get a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“I’ll be honest with you, Dr. Bell. I don’t want to get your hopes up too much. That bastard could be holed up anywhere. We’ll do what we can, but the Department’s not going to be able to put a lot of resources into tracking down a guy who’s making telephone threats. Not with all the other crap going on out there in the streets every day.”
Holly leaned against the wall, fighting the sudden weakness in her legs. She’d counted on the police to stop Arnold. Now, it was sounding like she was going to be on her own. “Could you at least put a trace on my phone?” she said, fighting to keep the rising panic out of her voice. “And a patrol car in front of my house?”
Rich hesitated. “You’ll have to call the phone company about a trace. I don’t think it’ll help, though. He probably won’t be stupid enough to let his calls be tracked.”
“What about a police patrol?” She was getting frustrated. “Oh hell, I live on the Jersey side, so it’s not even your jurisdiction.”
“No. What town are you in?”
She told him.
“I’ll call the local cops. They’ve got good manpower for a small town force, so they’ll probably be able to put your block on a regular patrol. Maybe they can even park out in front of your house at times. Enough anyway to discourage Arnold if he’s watching.” He blew out a breath. “You got an alarm system or a dog?”
“No dog, I’m afraid. I’m getting an alarm installed, but they can’t do it until next week.”
“Call the company and explain your situation. They should be able to move you up, given the circumstances.”
Maybe, but that hardly seemed sufficient, given the circumstances. But what else could she do?
“I know it’s frustrating, Dr. Bell, but it’s unlikely that Arnold will make good on his threats. He’s probably just trying to psych you out.”
And he’s succeeding.
“Thanks, Detective,” she said, fighting despair. “I appreciate it. Whatever you can think to do to help—well, just know I’ll be very grateful.”
“Don’t hesitate to call me any time day or night. I mean it.”
She said goodbye, and then slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Could her life get any worse? Maybe Arnold was just blowing smoke, but she doubted it. The guy wouldn’t have gone into hiding unless he was serious.
As much as she loved her house, she now felt vulnerable living in a quiet, suburban town. Maybe she should take a hotel room in the city for a while. Someplace that offered real security. Unless she stopped working, Arnold could always find her by merely following her from the hospital.
It wasn’t like she could leave town or go into hiding. After all, she had kids and parents depending on her.
Nate.
The idea flashed into her mind with such force that she almost staggered. She could always call Nate. He’d help her if she asked him. He’d protect her. When Arnold had made his threats before, Nate had been there for her. His calm strength had boosted and hardened her resolve to not let the threats send her flying into full-blown panic. He’d been her rock when she needed him. God, if she ever needed him it was right now, and she knew deep in her soul that he would come through for her despite everything that had happened.
Her hand stretched over the kitchen counter to grab the phone. But then something stopped her. Sure, Nate would come charging over on a white horse, and she’d feel better for a little while. But then what? How long would it take for Arnold to be found? For the situation to resolve? If she let Nate back into her life and grew to depend on him to solve her problems, she’d end up right back where she started—in love and completel
y over her head with a guy who didn’t feel the same way about her. He’d be there for the short term but then he’d leave, and she’d be a mess all over again.
No, she had to screw up her courage and get through this without depending on Nate Carter or the police or anyone else. She had to take care of herself.
* * *
As strange as it felt to be playing baseball in Canada, Nate could be pitching on the dark side of the moon for all he cared. He was so glad to get back onto the mound and pitch in a real game. In Triple-A, the hitters were almost as skilled as their major league counterparts, so he knew it would be a good test of his readiness. Tonight was his first chance to pitch in an actual game since suffering the shoulder injury.
The evening sun slanted in from the west over the stands of the cozy ballpark. A warm west breeze ruffled his hair. His shoulder felt loose and fully healed. His arm strength wasn’t close to a hundred per cent yet, but it was getting a lot better every day. The small crowd gave him a standing ovation when he was introduced, clearly appreciative of his All-Star season last year with the Patriots. When he took the mound, the other players surrounded him, giving him words and slaps of encouragement.
Man, it felt good. He was exactly where he should be. A mound was a mound, even if it was in the minor leagues.
He threw the first two pitches high and wide, but got the third over the inside corner. The batter wristed a weak grounder to the shortstop who fired it to first for the out. Nate smiled to himself. It felt like it was going to be a good night.