Читать книгу Peter Decker 3-Book Thriller Collection: False Prophet, Grievous Sin, Sanctuary - Faye Kellerman, Faye Kellerman - Страница 23

Still wearing his full-length white coat from morning rounds, Kingston Merritt checked in with his girls at the front office.

No messages from the bitch. God, how he hated that woman. Hated her and loved her at the same time. Why? Merritt wondered. Why did she have that kind of power over him? She neglected him as a young child, criticized him mercilessly the few times she was around. She was cruel and heartless. Except … except on those rare occasions when she showed her other side—the fun-loving woman with a laugh as light as a summer’s breeze. Taking him to the circus, squeezing his hand, introducing him to the lion tamer after the show was over. He had felt so special …

But this was the final straw. She could just go to hell. No doubt, it was her fault Lilah was hurt. It was her fault that Lilah was estranged from him in the first place.

He smiled at his ladies, made chitchat as one of them brought him coffee, another brought the day’s appointments. A heavy load—forty names, roughly two-thirds routine pelvics. There was a star after Mrs. Lewis’s name—the cervical carcinoma in situ picked up on a routine Pap. She’d require extra consultation time. He’d check her into the hospital tonight, do the surgery at seven tomorrow after his six A.M. D and C. Mrs. Arlin was in for her three-month fibroid check, as was Mrs. Bennington. Three six-week postpartum checks. The rest were OB cases, five of those evals for termination. One of the candidates was already five months gravid. A termination in the second trimester, much more difficult because of the advanced development of the fetus. It was good she’d come to him.

He stuffed the schedule into his coat pocket and took the coffee into the privacy of his office. A large picture window afforded him a view of the Palos Verdes peninsula, the steely ocean a reflection of the overcast sky. He sat at his desk, extracted a bottle of bourbon from a locked drawer, and laced his drink with a single shot. Then he sat back in his chair and sipped his morning brew. The cup was half empty when his private line rang. He waited a beat, then picked it up.

“Hello, Mother. Nice of you to return my twenty calls.”

“Where the hell were you yesterday?”

“Where the hell was I? Where the hell were you?”

“Talking to the police—”

“What happened to Lilah, Mother? I tried to see her yesterday, but she had already checked out of the hospital.”

“How’d you find out about Lilah?”

“I met up with a detective at the spa—”

“You were at the spa?”

“Yes, I was … or didn’t Frederick tell you.”

There was a long pause over the line.

Merritt said, “I suppose Frederick didn’t tell you.”

Davida said, “I suppose Frederick and I are due for a little chat.”

“Mother, the detective told me Lilah had been attacked. Tell me what happened.”

“Funny, I was going to ask you that very question.”

Feeling his face go hot, Merritt slammed down the receiver. A couple of beats later the private line rang again. He picked up the handpiece.

“That was a repulsive, vile insinuation, Mother.”

“Kingston, I wasn’t trying to be nasty. We’re on the same side, for God’s sake! I only meant that maybe you know what happened because you talked to the police.”

“I don’t know a thing because I left to see Lilah. And she was gone. So why don’t you tell me what happened. Was Lilah attacked?”

There was a long pause. Merritt heard the drumming of fingers over the line.

“I’ve got a busy schedule, Mother. Is that true or not?”

“I think so.”

“You think?”

“Well, Lilah is prone to fits of fantasy—”

“The detective told me she’d been beaten, for God’s sake! How could she fantasize about that?”

“She had a few bruises. Nothing serious.”

“I want to see her.”

“Kingston, that’s not a good idea—”

“Mother, I demand to see her! Despite what she thinks, I still care for her very deeply. If she needs medical assistance, I have pull with the finest physicians in the city. God only knows how many of them owe me for discreetly getting their daughters out of sticky situations.”

“Freddy’s got everything under control.”

“Freddy? You’re letting Freddy handle this situation? All of a sudden, you’re trusting Freddy?”

“It’s not me, it’s Lilah. She trusts—”

“Freddy?” Merritt let go a deep laugh. “Fine, Mother. You just let Freddy handle Lilah as well as all your situations.”

“King, I know you two hate each other—”

“Of course you know. You were the one who orchestrated our hatred.”

“I did not!”

“Mother, you turned Frederick against me—always comparing him to me to his detriment.”

“You were smarter. I was just being honest.”

“You turned him into a petty, jealous person—a shell of a human being. And as a result, he turned Lilah against me.”

“I did the best I could as a mother. No one’s perfect. Stop acting like a spoiled child.”

“Mother, I can act however I feel like acting. At the moment, it’s you who need me. Now listen closely. I’m going to see Lilah, and furthermore, you’re going to arrange it. You’re going to explain to Lilah how much I care about her and how much I want to help. You, Mother, are going to convince her to see me.”

“Lilah has a mind of her own, King.”

“I’m sure you can be persuasive. You’re always quite persuasive when there’s something in it for you. Everything—everything will be put on hold until I see Lilah. Do we have an understanding?”

Again fingers drummed across the telephone wire.

“I’m hanging up, Mother.”

“King, let’s talk this—”

“Everything’s on hold until I can see her. Am I making myself clear?”

“Not to worry, King. You’re making yourself quite clear.”

The door opened a crack, a small Spanish voice asking who was there. Decker said who it was and the door opened all the way. To Decker, the maid was still shaken. But she told him she was doing better. She led him through a spotless kitchen to the back door and told him Lilah was outside in the stable, grooming her horses. That seemed like a healthy thing for her to be doing. Painstaking tasks occupied the brain, preventing morbid thoughts from taking over. He thanked Mercedes and walked over to the stalls, but was blocked at the entrance.

“Hello, Mr. Totes,” Decker said. “Lilah asked me to come down and talk to her.”

“It’s okay, Carl,” Lilah called out. “He can come in.”

The skinny man didn’t move right away but stayed fixed in a military position—arms crossed, legs apart, chest extended, and brow furrowed over distrusting eyes. Totes was obliged to move out of the way. But he took his good, sweet time about it.

Decker walked inside the stable, finding Lilah with Apollo—the palomino that Totes had been riding that first day. She was combing the horse’s golden mane, talking sweetly in his ear as she smoothed out the tangles. The animal had on reins and bit, but no saddle. Lilah’s garb was part good ole girl, part vamp. She wore skintight jeans tucked into two-tone elephant-hide boots, and her chest was wrapped in a black tube top. Somehow she pulled the whole thing off without looking cheap. She didn’t acknowledge his presence and Decker knew she was toying with him. But he wasn’t bothered by the silence. There was something serene about watching one golden-haired beauty groom another. Finally, Lilah patted the horse’s neck and turned to him. Her face was still bruised but healing nicely.

“I was about to go for a ride, Peter. See if I can still function. Please join me.”

“A ride?”

“A ride will relax me. And when I’m relaxed, my power is more focused. In the long run, it will benefit both of us. And don’t be frightened by the horses, Peter. They’re very well trained.”

Lilah might know his home phone number, but she certainly didn’t know jack about his hobbies—all six of them sitting in his own stable. He wasn’t about to tell her anything personal. Slipping his hands in his pocket, he thought: no problem, amiga. He could play the slick as easily as the hick.

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion, Miss Brecht.”

She smiled seductively. “You know, Peter, I’ve noticed that when you get nervous, you call me Miss Brecht. Don’t worry so much.”

Outwardly, Decker was impassive, but internally he was wired—angry and sexually charged at the same time. He felt like a jerk but couldn’t turn around and walk away without losing face.

Just cut the losses, Deck. Ride the damn horse and get out of her way.

“I’ve got about forty-five minutes, Lilah. You want to spend it riding, it’s fine with me. But I’m not coming out here again.”

“Oh, yes, the ground rules.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, ran her fingers over her cheeks. “I tried to cover the … bruises with makeup. Can you tell?”

Decker appraised her beautiful face and told her she looked fine. Which was the truth. There was still some bluing underneath her eyes. Other than that, she appeared good enough for the cover of Vogue … or Playboy. He felt his face go hot. If she noticed his embarrassment, she didn’t remark on it.

Lilah said, “Carl, saddle up High Time for Sergeant Decker.”

“Which one’s that?” Decker asked.

“The Appaloosa. The spotted horse, Peter. You’d better take your jacket off. It’s hot. You can ride shirtless if you want.”

“No, thanks.”

“That’s right, you’re a redhead. You’ll burn rather than tan. I don’t see why Mother pictured you as a cowboy. Redheads can’t be cowboys.”

“Your mother told you about our little chat?”

“No. Just that she thought you’d make a marvelous cowboy. Much better than a detective. Frankly, I don’t see you as either one.”

Decker shrugged and looked away. He took his jacket off and draped it over a saddle peg, watching Totes throw a western saddle on High Time. Totes’s face wasn’t registering any hostility; it wasn’t registering much of anything. He was just doing his job with trained efficiency. When the stable hand was done, Decker walked over to the horse and eyed him carefully.

“She doesn’t bite, Peter,” Lilah said. “Just don’t sneak up behind her.” She turned to Totes. “Carl, walk High Time out and show Sergeant Decker how to mount.”

His mounting was fine, thank you very much. But he followed Totes out and didn’t say anything.

Totes touched the stirrup. “Put one foot in here. Then put your other leg all the way over the horse and just set up. You don’t gotta do nothin’ else but set. You ken hold the reins but don’t go pullin’ on them. Horse’ll follow the Miss. You start pullin’ the reins, you gonna confuse her.”

“Got it,” Decker said.

Totes walked away unceremoniously. Decker mounted as the horse stood passively, her tail swatting at flies. Lilah came up to his left. He noticed she seemed tight and asked her if she was in pain. She told him she was much better—at least physically—tugged on High Time’s bit and the two of them were off. She rode sans saddle, sitting on some kind of Indian blanket.

Immediately, he felt the sun burning down on his scalp. Sweat filled his brow, his cheeks, and his armpits. The sky was smogless blue, the air stagnant and filled with flies and gnats and other things that buzzed. The mountaintops seemed to shimmer in the heat. About a minute into the ride, he realized he was actually grateful for this turn of events. Riding not only made him feel good, it made him feel in control.

Lilah said, “Thank you for accommodating me.”

“This one time.”

“Ye olde ground rules.” Lilah lowered her head. “I’m sorry if I upset your wife.”

Decker didn’t answer her. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and took out a pen and notepad.

“I don’t believe it!” Lilah said. “You can’t take notes and ride at the same time.”

“Hey, Carl said I wasn’t supposed to do anything except sit on the horse. Besides, I’ve got an excellent sense of balance.”

“Your writing is going to look like scribbling.”

“It does anyway.”

“Don’t you ever stop working?”

“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?” Decker said.

Lilah slowed. “Can you give me a minute to work up to it?”

Decker looked at his watch. “We’re down to thirty-five minutes, Lilah.”

“You’re impossible!”

“Why aren’t you riding with a saddle?”

She turned and gave him a closed-mouth smile. “I like the connection with my animals … the feeling of their muscles working.”

Decker didn’t react. He never rode bareback, believing that even the most docile of horses were still animals. Saddles gave the needed support in rare emergencies.

They rode another five minutes without speaking. Her ranch was much bigger than he had remembered. Or maybe he just hadn’t seen the whole spread. Like his, it was backed by the San Gabriel Mountains, but she had much more. A dusty path divided the property into halves, the trail disappearing into a thick copse of eucalyptus trees about three hundred feet ahead. On his immediate right were the fruit groves, behind them another structure that could have been a guesthouse. On the left was the garden—at least an acre’s worth of leafy vegetation.

“That’s one heck of a plot,” Decker said.

“I use it commercially.”

“How so?”

“Every single fruit and vegetable served at the spa is grown in that garden or in one of my greenhouses. It’s the only way to get quality control.”

“I don’t see any greenhouses.”

“They’re not the large prefab ones. I’ve several small greenhouses tucked into sunny locations. All of them are climate-controlled and pesticide-free. I grow out-of-season and exotic vegetables—just a few to tease the palate. Give my guests something memorable. I also grow tropical flowers—mainly orchids and bromeliads. They make lovely table settings for the spa’s dining room.”

“You’ve got a regular wholesale nursery here.”

“My clientele has come to expect a certain style.”

“It seems like an awful lot of vegetables for the spa’s kitchen.”

“Nothing goes to waste.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes.

“Well, that was a nice diversion,” Decker said. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind? We’re down to twenty minutes.”

“Don’t push me.”

“Up to you—”

“Stop it!” she screamed. “Stop it! Stop it!”

More silence. The hum in the air suddenly seemed magnified until Apollo brayed and reared.

“What’s wrong with him?” Decker asked.

“It’s nothing.” Lilah pulled back and forth on the reins. “My shouting upset him. He’s very sensitive.”

She brought the horse under control.

“What did you want to tell me, Lilah?” Decker said.

“I’m too upset.”

“Lilah, I haven’t got all day. If you feel I’m pushing you, I’ll call it quits right now.”

“Have it your way!” she said. “Call it quits!”

Peachy, he thought. What a colossal waste of time. He yanked on the reins and turned the horse in the direction of the stable. He kicked the Appaloosa’s flanks and High Time broke into a canter. This time, Lilah followed him.

“You know how to ride!”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Why did you play stupid if you knew how to ride?”

“How about if I ask the questions, Miss Brecht?” He broke away from her and with a swift set of pulls on the reins forced the animal to reverse directions, racing toward the eucalyptus grove. Galloping along the shaded trails, he wove among tree trunks as if he were barrel racing. Lilah tried to follow him. Apollo was quick—no doubt the animal was stock palomino—but she simply wasn’t skilled enough to keep up with him. He left her behind in a mist of dust. High Time rounded each bend as if she had power steering—a horse Decker wouldn’t have minded owning. A few minutes later, he slowed and waited for Lilah to catch up with him. He sat back and breathed in the scent of menthol.

“You’re great!” she said, breathlessly.

“Might as well get a decent ride out of this trip.”

Apollo reared again, stretching his forelegs so high he was almost vertical.

“Lean forward, Lilah—”

“I know how to handle my own horse!”

But her voice was shaky. The palomino continued to balance on his hind legs, kicking the branches of the tall trees as he protested.

“You’re still too upright. You’re going to fall backward.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that easy bareback.”

“Use your thighs,” Decker instructed. “Squeeze as hard as you can.”

“I’m doing that!”

“Now tighten the reins and give him a kick in the flanks. That should send him forward.”

“I’m trying, dammit! He’s being obstinate!”

Decker stood on his stirrups, edged High Time closer to the agitated horse, dodging steel-hooved punches. Lilah managed to maintain balance, as Decker squeezed in front of the animal. He leaned over, grabbed Apollo’s bit and gave it a sharp tug, forcing the horse forward. Finally settling on all fours, Apollo kicked up dirt and leaves, then paced in circles. Lilah took the reins and once again brought him under control.

“He’s really upset about something,” Decker said. “Let’s go back.”

“I’m ready to talk to you now.”

“Make it quick. I don’t like the way your horse is acting.”

“He senses my anxiety.”

“Then let’s switch horses. I’m not anxious.”

“He’ll be fine. Better than I’ll be. You see, all last night and every waking minute today, I … I’ve had this dreadful sense that something terrible is going to happen. Something even more horrible than what has already happened. I’m scared out of my wits.”

“Lilah, I know you’re not going to believe this, but it’s normal to feel that way. There’d be something wrong with you if you didn’t feel frightened.”

“No, no, it’s not ordinary fear, Peter. I know because I feel that, too. This … this psychic communication is something different. A prophecy. I am a prophetess and am capable of receiving deep, underworld vibrations. They’re straight out of hell. It’s just horrifying!” She started to tremble. “Don’t you see? It’s a warning! Somehow, you must protect me against these demons!”

Had the rape terrified her to the point of hallucinations? Decker had seen assaults drive normal people literally out of their minds. Lilah was acting like one of them.

“Lilah, I’m going to work really hard to solve your case, but I can’t help you ward off your individual demons. If you think someone’s out to get you—and I can’t say I blame you for feeling that way—hire a bodyguard. Your mother probably knows someone. If not, I’ll give you a recommendation.”

“You don’t understand,” she implored.

“Lilah—”

“It’s bad karma!” Tears streamed down her cheek. “A terrifying sense of doom! Someone is out to get me, Peter. The theft was more than a desire to steal my father’s memoirs. It was a desire to rip away everything dear to me. It’s a personal vendetta against me!”

“That’s why a bodyguard—”

“No, it won’t help. Someone’s going to come back and finish me off! My powers tell me this as fact! I’m so frightened!”

Apollo reared up once again, forelegs stretching toward the sun. For a moment, he did a two-foot foxtrot, flanks speckled by beams streaking through the branches, hundreds of golden dots bouncing off his honey-colored coat. Then a thousand pounds’ worth of weight came crashing down—dirt, twigs, and leaves spewing in their faces.

The palomino reared and reared again. Lilah had turned ghastly white as she attempted to hold on. Decker inched closer, but powerful, flailing limbs acted as an effective barrier. Apollo’s last motion was a perfect capriole as the horse leaped into the air, hind legs extended, pushing forward, forelegs tucked under.

He landed clumsily, momentarily losing his footing as his left hind leg caught on a surface tree root, stumbling but not falling. Lilah’s arms encircled the animal’s throat, her grip loosening with each jerk of the horse’s head. She had slid up toward his neck and was sitting on the horse’s withers. The blanket on his back had tumbled to the ground. Decker moved High Time closer, his extended arm within inches of Apollo’s reins. Just as he was about to grab them, Apollo bolted.

Decker dug into High Time’s belly and pushed forward at full speed, leaning his body horizontal to the ground, cursing as he maneuvered the Appaloosa around the trees, feeling the razor’s edge of low-lying boughs abrade his back. Adrenaline shot through his body, his heart hammering against his chest, his hands shaking. But he was steady enough to guide his horse at strategic moments—a skill that avoided turning him into jelly.

Apollo was charging as if possessed, racing erratically through the trees, clearing branches and dense trunks by inches, tearing forth beyond his normal capacity. Several times, the horse jumped forward for no reason, nearly decapitating Lilah with a bough. She held tightly, hair flying through the jet stream. Decker forced High Time faster, masses of grit filling his mouth and eyes. He spit, rubbed his eyes on his shoulder, and rode harder, using every single aching muscle to urge the horse on.

The palomino had a six-foot jump on him. Pushing the Appaloosa, Decker managed to keep pace. Lilah’s horse couldn’t possibly continue at that heart-straining speed. Hopefully the goddamn animal would slow down before he killed her with his kamikaze mission.

High Time was galloping without so much as a slip of the hoof. Good old Aps, nothing upset their footing. But each time the horse maneuvered a particularly difficult path, he was forced to sacrifice speed. Apollo kept widening the distance. Lilah had lost any ounce of control. The palomino was racing to his own evil drummer.

Decker cursed his sense of smugness. Lilah’s evil vibrations were no longer a crazy fantasy but a terrifying reality. He could feel sweat drenching his clothes, dripping off his forehead as he pressed forward. He could feel the horror gripping his body. Yet he knew his fear couldn’t possibly be as strong as Lilah’s. As fast as he was riding, Decker knew he had control: that he could stop at any moment. Lilah had no such comfort as the palomino kept running at a maniacal pace. If only he could catch up to the sucker—a herculean task, but he was determined not to fail. He bunched his shoulders, dug deep into High Time’s flanks, and drove the Appaloosa to her max.

Trees whizzed by as the horses continued at their frenetic pace. The branches above split his airstream, blowing wind onto the back of his wet neck. Swooshing sounds pounded in his ears, dirt sprayed his eyes. A kaleidoscope of nature’s colors raced past him. Greens, rusts, browns, objects losing their form, relegated to a blur. Everything around him was a deadly weapon—a tree, a branch, a fence, the telephone pole that popped out of nowhere. Even a small clod of dirt could cause the horses to stumble, throwing them onto the ground at fifty miles per hour.

Ahead was a four-foot hedge running across the path—a natural hurdle, but you didn’t do jumps at this kind of speed. There was no place to circumvent the shrubbery. Not that he had any choice. Where Apollo went, so did he. The palomino made the leap but shaved the bush’s top with his hooves. The Appaloosa followed suit, clearing the bush completely and gaining a little distance from the leap. The palomino regained his footing and sprinted forward.

But not quite as fast as before.

Hope flooded Decker’s body. He knew he was gaining ground. He could feel the palomino’s tailwind in his face.

Harder!

Creeping up on the left side, inching closer and closer. Hooves clopping against the dry, dusty ground. Dirt blinding his sight. Blinking it out. Blinking and blinking!

Closer!

The clumps of trees grew thinner, the foliage turned sparse. The sun became brighter and hotter as the horses came out of the protective shade of the woodlands. A few moments later, Decker was elated to see unencumbered land straight ahead. As the palomino broke toward open space, Decker felt his head throb, hope quashed as mountains, previously obscured by the treetops, suddenly jumped into view. An indestructible wall of granite closing in on them. Lilah screamed, her wails echoing as the rocky hillside grew in height and mass. Only minutes left …

Harder and harder!

Inches behind Apollo’s flanks, up to his flanks, up to his belly. The animals, finally neck and neck, nose and nose, the bodies so close they seemed harnessed together. Each step a choreographed death-defying dance, hooves missing each other by fractions of an inch.

Decker pulled ahead while looking backward. Lilah’s complexion was gray, arms clamped around the neck of the palomino.

The mountains coming upon them with horrific clarity!

Now or never. He screamed as loud as he could:

“Lilah, jump to me on the count of three!”

“You won’t catch me! You won’t catch me!”

“There’s no fucking choice! One! Two! Three!”

Lilah remained frozen and wide-eyed.

“Jump—”

“I can’t!”

“Jump now!”

“I—”

“Goddamn it, Lilah! Jump! Jump! JUMP!”

She catapulted to the left as Decker’s arm snaked around her waist and squeezed her tightly. He yanked the reins to the right, clearing the mountainside by at least six feet, but was still close enough to catch the blood spatter as the palomino crashed headfirst into stone.