Читать книгу Scared to Death - Debby Giusti - Страница 9

Nolan said goodbye to Lloyd, then climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped outside Heather’s bedroom.

“Honey?”

He knocked twice, grabbed the knob and twisted.

Locked.

“Can I bring you something, Heather? A cup of tea? Maybe a sandwich?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, her voice muffled by the closed door.

“The electricity will come on soon, but it’s cold up here. You don’t want to get sick.”

“I’m wearing my jacket.”

He pictured her sitting on the canopy bed, bundled in her peacoat and stocking hat, red-eyed and totally confused. Part child, part woman, she waged war with her emotions, trying to stay in control.

Just as she had when Olivia had died.

“I’ll make spaghetti for dinner.” Heather’s favorite. Hunger might coax her from her seclusion. “Why don’t you come down soon?”

No answer.

“You need to eat.”

“Not now, Dad.” Her voice cracked.

The sound slammed against his heart. His baby was too young to carry her cross alone. If only she’d let him into her pain.

Lord, let me be her Simon of Cyrene.

“See you soon, okay?” He listened for a minute, then turned and walked, heavy-hearted, down the stairs.

The door to the great room hung open. Leather chair empty. Crutches gone.

He knocked on the guest room door. “Miss Murphy…Kate, you need anything?”

A muffled “No, thank you,” reached his ears.

Two females in the house, both hiding behind closed doors. Could give a guy a complex.

“You’ll find some ladies’ clothing in the closet.” He cleared his throat. “A family lost their home in a flood, so Heather and I bought clothes for them. Seems to me, the mother’s about your size.”

“I couldn’t impose—”

“Nonsense. We can buy more next week.” He let out a frustrated breath. Hard to carry on a conversation through an inch and a half of hardwood. “The great room’s warm thanks to the fireplace. I could make a spot for you on the couch.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You’ll find a quilt in one of the drawers.”

“Thank you, Nolan.”

If the woman wanted to hole up in a chilly bedroom rather than enjoy the comfort of the great room, so be it. “Let me know if you need anything.”

The bedsprings creaked.

“We’ll eat dinner about five. In the kitchen. The oven puts out a good amount of heat. That is, if you can sit at the table comfortably.”

“Thanks. I doubt I’ll be hungry.”

“Makes me think you’re worried about my cooking.” He forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m not a gourmet, but…well…”

Suddenly, he was a comedian?

No need to embarrass himself further. “See you later.”

“Wait.” The door opened. Crutch in hand, Kate scooted forward, propped her shoulder against the wooden doorjamb and let out a ragged breath. Her hair framed her face, cheeks flushed from exertion, brow wrinkled.

“Sorry it took me so long to get to the door.” She glanced down at her injured leg. “I’m slow as a tortoise with this injury.”

“I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

“You didn’t. Dinner at five sounds fine. Although after that huge breakfast, I should probably skip a meal or two.” She looked up. “You’ve been very kind.”

“All you’ve been through, the least Heather and I could do was offer you a place to stay. Plus, we have plenty of room.”

Kate glanced down the hallway. “And a beautiful home.”

He noticed a small puddle of water by the front door, which he pointed out to Kate. “Lloyd must have had ice on his shoes. Tina would have given the doc a piece of her mind for tracking up her hardwoods.”

A spark of amusement flickered in Kate’s eyes. “Sounds like something she’d do.”

“So Tina was a neat freak even as a kid?”

“And put me to shame,” Kate said with a laugh. “My idea of clean was to shove everything under my bed and hope no one noticed.” She looked at the picture hanging on the wall.

Nolan followed her gaze. Heather had taken the photo a couple weeks after they’d arrived in Mercy while Nolan and Tina had sat at the kitchen table.

“Looks like you two were having fun,” Kate finally said.

“Heather wanted to try out her new camera. That little skunk made faces at us until we were both howling with laughter.”

One of the first lighthearted moments he and Heather had shared after Olivia’s death. He had hung the photo to remind them life went on even after the loss of a loved one.

“Where’d you happen to meet Tina?” Kate asked.

“In California. When Olivia got sick, I needed someone to help with her care. Tina was looking for a new job.” He shrugged. “Win-win, all the way around.”

“I’m sorry about your wife.” She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Was it cancer?”

“Olivia died of an infection. She’d had surgery. I thought she was doing better, but…” He sighed, a heavy weight on his chest.

Suddenly, he was tired of talking. “You look like you need some rest. Probably that medicine Lloyd gave you. He’s quick to push pills.”

“So I noticed. A nap sounds good. See you about five?”

“I’ll keep the fire roaring. Come out earlier, if you get cold.”

She closed the door as he stepped into the great room and walked to the hearth. Grabbing the poker, he stoked the fire. The flames licked the logs, sending sparks dancing like fireflies in the air.

Once again, the memory of Olivia’s declining health swirled around him. Both of them had skirted the real issue of a Hollywood lifestyle gone amok.

Alcohol. Drugs.

Olivia had been so good at explaining away her symptoms that he’d turned a blind eye to the truth, especially when she’d promised the unexpected trip to India would be her last.

A fact-finding expedition for a documentary on the plight of India’s poor who sold their organs to rich foreigners—a transplant tourist racket she’d wanted to explore.

Nolan shook his head. Organs for a price.

For Olivia Price.

Only later, he’d learned the truth. She hadn’t gone to India to gather information. She’d gone to buy an organ.

He’d never suspected liver disease.

Nolan threw another log on the fire. To Olivia, time was money and too precious to be spent waiting for a donor through normal channels in the States.

So she’d found another way. The unscrupulous physicians at the Beverly Hills Specialty Center had claimed the procedure was as safe abroad as in the U.S. Olivia’s mistake had been to trust the upscale medical facility that catered to the rich and famous. Too late, she’d learned they covered up the high rate of complications that often led to death, just as it had with Olivia.

Fisting his hands, anger swelled up in Nolan anew.

Why hadn’t she told him the real reason for her trip? Probably because by that point their marriage had been a sham.

On the exterior, they had looked like the perfect family. Except he and Olivia had been living a lie.

Nolan shook his head, sorrow overwhelming him. Justice. That was what he’d expected. Sanjeer Hira and the other physicians at the Beverly Hills Center had preyed on Olivia’s fear of not finding a donor in time, but no illegality could be found. Bottom line, the authorities’ hands were tied. Despite the dangers, private citizens were free to undergo medical procedures abroad.

Fingers pressed against the mantel, Nolan stared into the fire. When Olivia had told him about a pre-op stop she had made in Georgia, Nolan had realized he might have a way to bring down the Beverly Hills operation and the physicians involved.

A limousine had picked Olivia up at the Atlanta airport and had driven her to a VIP suite in a rural mountain clinic. There she’d received a special IV treatment exclusively for liver patients to increase the rate of recovery. Twelve hours later, she’d been whisked back to Atlanta and had boarded her flight to India.

The fact that the Beverly Hills physicians had insisted she use an alias during her Georgia layover raised a red flag in Nolan’s mind. A legit medical procedure wouldn’t require cash up front. Nor a fictitious identity for the patient.

Carrying a hefty load of grief and guilt, Nolan had moved to Mercy after Olivia’s death. If he couldn’t get to the Beverly Hills Center through the front door, he’d go in the back way. Surely, someone in the small Georgia town had made or would make a mistake, exposing a crack in the seemingly flawless Beverly Hills facade.

With dogged determination and hours of surveillance, pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the picture appeared more corrupt than he had even imagined.

Now Tina had died.

And her old friend was sleeping in the guest room.

Probably a mistake to offer Kate lodging. Although it had been the Christian thing to do. Besides, where else would she have gone? To a hotel in Summerton? The pass had closed, and the last thing Nolan wanted was an innocent woman out on her own.

Dropping into the leather chair, he pulled the Bible to his lap and let his fingers slide over the page.

Maybe he and Heather should shake the dust of Mercy from their feet and move on.

He sighed. Who was he trying to fool?

He couldn’t leave until he found a way to expose the transplant tourist racket that had led to Olivia’s death.

His eyes focused on a scripture verse.

“‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but underneath are ravenous wolves.’”

A warning?

Nolan stared into the fire.

Lord, I need your help to find the wolves. All of them.

Kate nestled down in the bed and pulled the comforter up around her neck. How could a quick trip to Mercy, Georgia, to retrieve her grandfather’s cross turn into such a disaster?

Tina was dead. The cross was still missing. And Kate was holed up in a house that lacked electricity, tended to by a kind and attractive man.

Not that she wasn’t grateful. Better here than out in the cold. Or in some lonely hotel room. Although as she recalled, Dr. Samuels had said Mercy didn’t have a hotel.

Small town. One physician.

And what about the doc? He insisted a woman she’d known forever had died of a long-term condition Kate had never heard Tina mention.

Add cremation to the mix. The idea of Tina—a live-for-the-minute type of gal—planning her funeral left a bad taste in Kate’s mouth.

Cremation…fire…

Kate’s stomach tightened. The memory of that horrible night three years ago returned unbidden. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out all that had happened.

Trusting and gullible, she had put her faith on the line…faith in a man who’d professed to love her…faith in a God who, she thought, would bless their love.

Only to have her hopes and dreams go up in flames.

Stupid to believe she and Eddie would live happily ever after. She’d learned the hard way fairy tales don’t come true.

She’d been blinded by love. Or had she ignored the signs, not wanting to believe the truth? Living a lie was so much easier.

Until she’d come face-to-face with the reality of his addiction.

The man she’d loved—had thought she’d loved—had transformed before her eyes into a junkie needing the next fix.

The cabin had been Eddie’s private retreat, but he’d begged her to drop by just this once. He’d promised to throw steaks on the grill and have her home by nine so she would be ready for work the next day.

That night with candles flicking in the darkness and the cloying, sweet smell of incense hanging in the air, she’d discovered the true Eddie.

She’d entered a den of evil. The words he’d screamed. The names he’d called her.

He’d mocked her values and her morality, calling her a stupid prude who needed to be taught a lesson.

When he’d grabbed at her dress, she’d fought back, needing to escape.

Kate clenched her teeth, eyes scrunched shut as once again she relived the struggle.

Fear gripped her anew.

“Run, Kate, run,” an inner voice warned just as it had that night.

In her mind’s eye, she tripped, a table overturned. She crawled forward, struggled to her feet.

Somehow she found the door and ran. Ran from the cabin, from his shouts of protest. Ran until her lungs burned and her muscles ached and she gasped for air.

In that instant, she looked back.

The explosion ripped the night in two.

“Oh, God, no!” she cried into the folds of the comforter. The memory too real, too painful.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Her breath caught in shallow spasms. She raked her fingers through her hair and willed herself to gain control. But she couldn’t stop the tears.

She cried for all she had lost that night. For the dreams that had died with Eddie. For the life she’d wanted, had come to expect, that had ended with the fire. For the lie about love she’d believed too long.

She wasn’t worthy of love. Love was for those good enough and deserving enough.

She was neither.

Her father had walked out of her life.

Eddie had betrayed her.

She’d learned her lesson. She’d never love again. The pain was too great to bear.

And she’d carried it too long.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you now. Hold on, honey.” Nolan’s words when he’d saved her from the water slammed through her mind.

Where had that come from?

Crazy.

She pushed the thought away and pulled in another ragged breath.

She needed to escape from all the memories.

Sleep, Kate. Hopefully, she’d find solace in her slumber.

Unless Nolan found his way there.

No. She shook her head. She wouldn’t give him access to her dreams…or her emotions.

That was a promise she had to keep.

By 5:00 p.m., the pungent mix of sausage, tomatoes and Italian seasonings filled the kitchen. Nolan stirred the sauce simmering on the stove and waited for water in the large stainless steel pot to boil.

Dark skies hung outside the kitchen window as desolate as his mood. Ice that had begun to melt midday had refrozen with the evening drop in temperature.

Earlier, he’d walked the property, passed the creek where Kate’s car had broken through the guardrail then plummeted into the icy water below.

The Almighty had directed his steps. Thank You, Lord. Otherwise two women would need to be laid to rest.

Hard to believe Tina was dead. And from a reaction to latex. It didn’t make sense.

If only Tina had been more forthcoming about her condition. She’d been so private, and Nolan hadn’t wanted to pry.

Kate had questioned cremation. But Tina didn’t have much money, and cremation was a cheaper option for her. Nolan shook his head. Right now, he needed to focus on Heather.

With a heavy heart, he stirred the sauce and glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes ago, he’d rapped on Heather’s door and told her dinner was almost ready. Not that he expected his daughter to leave her room.

If only Kate would come out soon, trade her afternoon of seclusion for a good meal and a little conversation.

A smiling face sitting across the table might lift the gloom and help take his mind from all that had happened.

Trucks rumbled in the distance. County road vehicles probably laying salt. Main stretch to town should be in decent shape by midmorning. In time for church.

The good reverend would hold services no matter how many folks gathered for worship.

And Tina’s funeral?

The loss cut through him again.

Wade had insisted on holding the service tomorrow. But Nolan agreed with his houseguest. A bit too—

“Dinner smells delicious.”

He turned at the sound of Kate’s voice.

She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, crutches propped under her arms. Her hair was piled on top of her head, stray tendrils falling around her cheeks.

Still pale, she wore the sky-blue sweatpants and jacket he and Heather had bought at the local clothing store and looked like a teddy bear that needed a hug.

And a good meal. The velour hung on her slender frame.

“Let me help you.” He pulled a chair from the table and stepped toward her.

“I’ve been practicing in my room. Finally got the hang of it.” She hobbled forward, holding her left leg off the floor.

He touched her shoulder, the velour soft in his hand. “I’ll take these.” He grabbed the crutches and eased her into the chair. Once she was seated, he propped her injured leg on a footstool.

“How’s that?”

She grimaced as he scooted her closer to the table. “If I ignore my left side, I’m in good shape.”

“Would another ice bag help?”

She rubbed her injured leg. “Probably not, Nolan. But thanks. Just give me a minute.”

“I’ve got herbal tea brewing for Heather. How about a cup?”

Kate glanced at the pot on the counter and nodded. “Sure, that sounds good.”

He wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly at odds with what to do next.

Think, Price. Pour the tea. Stir the sauce. Cook the spaghetti.

Her eyes looked questioningly up at him. Big blue eyes edged with apprehension.

It must be disconcerting to have her life put on hold. And in Mercy, Georgia, of all places. He could appreciate her concern.

“Seems strange not to have Tina scurrying around the kitchen. South of the border was her specialty. Enchiladas, burritos, guacamole.” He noticed the moisture pooling in Kate’s eyes. “Look, I’ve upset you.”

She shook her head and sniffed. “I’m fine, really.”

He poured the tea and handed her a cup. “You and Tina were next-door neighbors in El Paso. If you don’t mind my asking, what brought you to Georgia?”

“It was purely economics. I’m a chemist and needed a job. A spot opened at Bannister Scientific about six months ago. Luckily, I landed the position.”

“Chemist, huh? Don’t know if you realized, but Lloyd seemed rather taken aback by your scientific expertise.”

“I noticed he doesn’t like his authority questioned.”

“Exactly.”

“And your line of work?” she asked.

“Basically, I help companies with their investment decisions. Mergers, consolidations, global expansion, that type of thing.”

“You’re a financial analyst?”

“That’s right.” Nolan stirred the pasta into the boiling water, thinking back to what he’d read about Bannister Scientific. “Wasn’t there something in the paper recently about that company of yours?”

Kate nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The reporter did a bit of embellishing. Amazing how a quote can change after a little cut and paste.”

“Now I remember. The article had to do with transplants. That’s not what you’re working on, is it?”

“Matter of fact, it is.”

The back of Nolan’s neck prickled. “What—what type of transplants are you researching?”

“Pancreatic cells involved in insulin production. My grandfather was a diabetic, and—”

Nolan exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Let me guess. Because of him you went into research?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “That’s right.”

“Made your parents proud, no doubt.”

Kate started to reply, then appeared to reconsider. She pulled the cup to her lips and took another sip.

Had he said something wrong? “Look, I—”

Water boiled over the edge of the pot and hissed as it hit the hot burner below. Nolan yanked the pot from the flame at the same moment the door to the hallway opened.

Heather stepped into the kitchen and glanced from Kate to her father. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Dinner’s almost ready, hon.”

His daughter grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured tea into the cup as he drained the pasta into the colander in the sink. Steam rose in the air.

“I’m not hungry, Dad.”

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and left the room.

“Heather?” Nolan called after her.

No response.

Seemed he was batting zero for two.

He’d struck out with his daughter, and from the look on Kate’s face, she probably wished she’d chosen another ballpark.

Not a good night for the home team.

And they were only in the first inning.