Читать книгу Dream Weaver - Jenna Ryan - Страница 11

“I’ve heard about Blue Lake.” Nick followed Meliana out of the O.R., whipped off his cap and held her Ella Fitzgerald disk up between two fingers. “I burned this a couple nights ago, along with Coldplay and Janice Joplin.”

“That’s quite the combo, Nick.”

“I have eclectic taste. But actually, I did Janice for Dr. Lightfoot. That’s why I mentioned Blue Lake. Word is, he’s thinking of buying a retreat outside the city, and he knows you have one there.”

“Bit of a story attached to that, but yes, I do.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” She slid her gaze sideways. “I might not answer it, though.”

“Are you and your husband together or separated?”

It hurt more than it should by now. “We’re not together, Nick.”

He beamed. “That’s twenty bucks to me.”

Meliana wasn’t surprised. Bets based on gossip flowed more freely around the hospital than tap water. “Who’s the loser?”

“A guy in Administration. So—I’m having a wine-tasting party next weekend. You’re invited. I plan to cover California, France, Italy and Australia.”

“If I’m off the duty roster, I’ll think about it.” She paused outside her office. “Do you know Sam Robbins?”

“Only through you.”

“Have you ever sat and talked to him?”

“Once or twice. He seems a bit Forrest Gump–like to me, but I know he shot through business administration in college.”

“He’ll be running Food Services in a few years,” Meliana predicted, “whether officially or not.”

“Do you want me to invite him to my party?”

“I want to know what it is about him that makes his memory so instantaneous and so incredible.”

“Ah, you’d like me to ask my grandfather what the deal is with someone like him.” Nick tugged on his spiky hair to straighten it. “No problem, but I’m not sure, even with all the studies he’s done on the human brain, that Granddad will have an answer for you. Sometimes life just throws people a weird curve. Like Dr. Lightfoot and his touchy-feely stuff. Granddad thinks Lightfoot’s a quack. But I’ll ask about the memory thing for you. Next Saturday night, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They parted company at the elevator. Inside, Meliana checked her watch. It was after seven. She’d been working steadily since 9:00 a.m. She could handle that. However, she hadn’t been able to reach Johnny at Blue Lake since yesterday, and that was a worry.

She could call Eileen or Zack or even the sheriff, but if he was simply looking for down time, Johnny wouldn’t appreciate being monitored.

She mulled it over and decided to try one more time. In her office she picked up the phone and punched his number. Twenty rings later, she stared at the handset and sighed. “Where the hell are you, Grand?” Vexed with herself more than him, she skirted her desk. “Why do you care, Meliana? Separated, remember? Time to let go.”

Her chair was rolled partway out, angled toward her computer. She swung it around, then hissed in a breath and took a quick backward step.

A single white rose lay crosswise on the seat.

SHE MADE IT TO THE HOUSE at Blue Lake before 9:00 p.m. Only one light burned inside, a lamp on a table next to the front door. Meliana considered, then knocked. “Johnny?”

There was no answer. At her side, Lokie and Shannon barked.

She tried again, louder. “Johnny, are you here?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

His voice came from behind her, and she spun. Whatever she’d planned to say dissolved in her throat. He was covered with mud and grease, he had a rag wrapped around his right hand and he looked thoroughly out of sorts.

It had to be the expression on his face that caused her lips to twitch. “Problem?” she asked in her most ingenuous tone.

The look he sent her had a decided bite. “Where do you want me to start? With my truck, the gusher in the toilet, or the fire?”

“Fire?” She grabbed the dogs’ collars to keep them from jumping on him. She sniffed, but smelled nothing except trees and lake water. “Where?”

“In the shed.”

She glanced around his arm. “It looks fine from here.”

“Check out the far side, Mel. It’s toast.”

She kept a firm hold on the dogs. “How did it start?”

“Local fire chief’s gonna let me know that when he figures it out, which should be by next Easter. Until then, I’m guessing arson.”

Something twisted in her stomach. “Arson’s a pretty drastic conclusion, Johnny. It could’ve been someone smoking in the woods.”

“It could also have been a gas bomb.”

“Right.” Meliana gave up. “What happened to your truck?”

“Two flat tires, with only one spare to replace them. And it wouldn’t start.”

“Someone got under the hood.”

“Unless a squirrel made off with three of my spark plugs and disabled the carburetor.”

Meliana pushed both dogs to a sitting position. They wanted to hunt the bullfrogs that were croaking in the reeds by the lake. “Stay,” she ordered and had to trust that Lokie would follow Shannon’s lead. “This day’s really not improving. What about the gushing toilet?”

Johnny blew at the hair in his eyes. “That could have happened on its own. The plumber who fixed the broken water pipe Eileen discovered also runs Eddy’s Spaghetti House. He had a party of twenty booked in for dinner last night. I sensed his mind was on his meat sauce while he was here. He capped the geyser and told me to use the upstairs bathroom until he can get a better look at the problem.”

“Right. Fire, spark plugs, toilet. Now tell me why your answering machine and cell are turned off? I’ve been calling since last night. I even e-mailed you this afternoon.”

He rubbed his grimy hands in distaste. “My cell’s dead, Eileen moved the answering machine so I walked through the cord and tore it out of the wall, and you never use e-mail to contact me so I tend not to check it. I called you twice at the hospital today. Despite the usual runaround, I got the impression you were in surgery pretty much nonstop. That meant you were okay, so I didn’t leave a message.” Concern crept in as he cocked his head to survey her. “Did something happen after my last call? Has Chris…?”

She waved him off. “Nothing like that. Chris is out of town until Monday.”

“Some hero.”

“I don’t need a hero, Johnny.”

He took a step toward her, a dangerous step, to her way of thinking.

“I got another rose,” she told him. “At the hospital, in my office. Sometime between four and seven this evening.”

His head fell back, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Not in tune with the cosmos at all, are we?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing.”

“What I don’t believe is how easily this guy slips in and out of your world. Home, office, car. No one sees him….” He stopped. “No one saw him, right?”

“I asked all around the seventh floor. No one noticed anything unusual.”

“So either he’s ridiculously lucky or he sees all and knows exactly when to leave his goodies. Or steal them, as the case may be.”

For the first time, Meliana detected the smell of scorched wood. Her gaze traveled around the open yard to the shed. “You think the rose guy burned the shed and disabled your truck, don’t you?”

“I think it’s very likely.”

“So do I.” The knots in her stomach tightened. “He’s watching me, Johnny, and he doesn’t like you. You need to stay here, and let Julie do what she can in Chicago.”

“I know cops, Mel.” He closed in on her, but was thankfully too dirty to touch. “Julie’s a cog in a big regulation wheel. She won’t be able to do much, no matter how good her intentions. Flowers and petty theft don’t amount to a great deal in the eyes of the police.”

“Julie’s a friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

She lifted her hair from her neck so the lake air could reach her skin. “We’re separated, Johnny, and you’re not supposed to be involved in any kind of investigation right now. On a more dangerous note, you’re also supposed to be discreet about any action you undertake, in case someone you were involved with as John Garcia did happen to make you.”

He used a knuckle to tip her chin up. “You’ve been talking to Blackburn, haven’t you?”

“Not about you.” She let her hair fall. “I watched you change over time, from the man I married to a man I stopped recognizing as my husband. I didn’t grow up in a bubble, Johnny. I’ve seen people get sucked into bad situations. With you, I saw an evolution. It wasn’t healthy, and it certainly wasn’t pretty. You seem so much better these days. I don’t want you to slide backward.”

“I won’t.”

“You could. John Garcia’s a part of you now. You created a persona, and for two years it became your reality. You lived it, breathed it, worked it. When they pulled you out, the FBI considered putting you in a witness protection program. They would have if you hadn’t been so adamant that your cover hadn’t been blown.”

“I didn’t think it had.”

“But now you’re not sure. Enrique Jago might be out there looking for revenge. And what would he do? He’d stalk me. He’d distract you. He’d make you look in my direction when really it’s you he wants.”

Johnny lowered his lashes. He was silent for a moment. Then, with his mouth mere inches from hers, he said, “This stuff’s coming off the top of your head, isn’t it?”

Absurd amusement rose in her throat. It had to be his delivery coupled with his speculative expression. He’d always been able to make her laugh at the most inappropriate moments.

“This isn’t funny, Johnny.” Although she had invented most of what she’d said on the fly. Suddenly, though, she couldn’t remember why or think of anything other than the fact that she wanted to jump him.

The knuckle under her chin slid along her jaw until all of Johnny’s fingers were wrapped around her neck. “Tell me again how I get sucked into bad situations.”

She felt a shiver work its way upward from her belly. “You’re the worst possible situation for me, Johnny. We agreed on that six months ago.”

His lips grazed hers. “And your point is?”

Impulse kicked in. Knocking reason aside, Meliana grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him against her. “I hate you, Johnny Grand.”

“Me, too,” he said and, angling his mouth over hers, began to devour.

SHE WOULD HAVE GONE UP to the loft bedroom with him, and he would have taken her there in a second, but both dogs began to bark, and the headlights that swept over them preceded the blast of a horn.

“Okay, you two, knock it off,” Julie called out the car window. “You’ve got visitors, and one of them had her most recent date interrupted by a friend whose underwear got scoffed.”

Johnny hated to think what he’d have done at that moment had his other persona been in place. But he was Johnny Grand, making out with his wife in the front yard of their summer home. A snarl was the nastiest reaction he could manage, and only Meliana heard it.

He saw her silvery eyes twinkle as she whacked his hands away. “He got me all dirty,” she said to Julie, then added a softer “Though I could have handled getting a lot dirtier” for him.

Johnny ground his teeth. He was grateful he’d worn loose-fitting pants. He swung to face the car, saw two doors open and scowled. “What are you doing here, Lightfoot?”

“Don’t sweat it. I bumped into Julie at the hospital after Mel left. We got to talking about roses, silk stockings and e-mail threats, so I tagged along.”

Meliana gave Charlie’s cheek a peck. “Are you going to feel out Johnny’s computer?”

“It’d be a first. As it happens, I’m also on the lookout for somewhere to hold a series of clinics I’m having, examining the effects of a tranquil environment on the super-stressed mind.”

“Already been done a hundred times,” Johnny said.

Charlie tapped his temple. “Not my way, it hasn’t. Any ideas for a group of, say, fifteen, Mel?”

“There’s the Blue Lake Inn or Reddings on the Lake—that’s a motel. Or you could rent a house. Lots of people here own large properties that they rent out in the off-season. That’d be about now, actually.”

“Sounds good.” Charlie nodded past her. “Why’s Johnny all dirty?”

Julie lifted her head. “I smell burned wood.”

Johnny started forward. “It’s been a long day. I’ll close up my truck. Mel can explain.”

“Mel can tell them what happened,” Meliana agreed. “She can’t really explain.” She pushed the dogs toward the house. “I’ll make coffee, Charlie, and show you the computer while Johnny cleans up.”

“I’ll make coffee,” Johnny mimicked, heading for his truck. “We’ll have a party. Charlie can feel up Johnny’s computer. Oh, hell,” he swore as another set of headlights bounced along the road toward him. “Why not invite everyone we know.”

Zack braked and climbed out. “You look as ticked as I feel.” He wiped his hands on an old towel.

“You look dirtier than me,” Johnny countered. He slammed the hood of his truck. “Is there a problem in town?”

“Five vehicles got rolled into Stokes’ Bog last night. Phil and I have been there since dawn helping to haul them out. We managed four, the fifth’s stuck on something. And you wonder why I’d rather be a paramedic. How’s your busted pipe?”

“Capped.” Because he didn’t feel like picking them up and it wasn’t supposed to rain, Johnny kicked his tools under the SUV.

Zack leaned on the top of his car door. “Sounds like you’ve had a lousy day, too. I was hoping for a beer.”

Johnny had been hoping for a whole lot more than that. “Mel’s here.” He searched his pockets for his keys. “And some friends from the city.”

“Rain check, then.” Zack raised a hand at Meliana, who’d come onto the porch. “How are things?” he called out.

“Busy,” she called back.

Julie appeared behind her. Johnny saw the poke she gave Meliana, and the action eased his foul mood. “You might as well come in, Zack, and save Mel the trouble of persuading you.”

“Hey, I don’t mind being persuaded. Who’s the blonde?”

“Julie Denton. City cop. Not married.”

“My mother’ll be pleased to hear it.” Zack whipped down the towel he’d draped over one grimy shoulder and tossed it into the cruiser. “I figured this day had to improve at some point.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Johnny agreed. Then groaned as the house, indeed the entire lakefront yard, went black.

THE POWER FAILURE LASTED fifteen minutes. Meliana and Charlie sat cross-legged on the sofa and by candlelight watched the other three argue about the source of the problem.

Johnny assumed it was the breaker box, the obvious choice. Zack figured the outage might involve the whole lakefront area, and Julie mentioned the word sabotage.

Fortunately, a minute after that word left Julie’s mouth, the lights popped on. The music Meliana had been playing resumed and the ceiling fan began to grind.

“You like blackouts, don’t you?” Charlie asked while the mini-hubbub continued around them. “I bet you’re a fan of old horror movies.”

“I like suspense,” Meliana agreed. “Psychological terror as opposed to blood and gore.”

“Yeah, she sees guts being spilled every day,” Johnny put in from the kitchen.

“He’d have passed out if we hadn’t tranquilized him when he was shot.” Meliana spoke just loud enough for Johnny to hear.

“That’s right, you operated on him, didn’t you?” Charlie shed his jacket as the heater kicked in again.

Meliana’s eyes sparkled. “I was a resident, overworked and exhausted. It was 2:00 a.m. We heard a cop—sorry, FBI agent—had been shot. No one knew how bad it was. I’d just finished stitching up a knife wound, so I was it.”

“I wouldn’t have passed out.” Johnny handed Charlie and Zack a beer, Julie a hard lemonade and Meliana the soft one she’d requested. Someone had to drive the others home—apparently.

“He threatened to faint like a girl.” Meliana moved her glass in a triangle between Zack, Julie and Charlie. “Have you all met?”

Julie hit the sexy button, smiled and shook her hair. “Zack and I introduced ourselves.”

“And I met Zack last year,” Charlie said. “I followed your neighbor up here one day after Christmas. Read him the riot act over doling out samples of his company’s pills to anyone who stuck out his or her hand.”

“Tim Carrick gives sample medications to patients?” Meliana swirled her lemonade while she digested that. “I should be surprised, but I’m not. I imagine he figures if they like what he’s offering, they’ll ask their doctors to prescribe it. Or is he looking to make private deals?”

“He’s not that stupid,” Zack said. “He doesn’t give out samples as such. According to Tim, some thief lifted a bunch of boxes and other containers from his case one time when he was in Chicago.”

“A generous thief, who distributed the packets to anyone he felt needed them.” Charlie shook his head. “Carrick did the deed anonymously, knowing his company’s name was on the label, but my guess is the order to do it came from a higher source within said company. Either that or he’s an out-and-out dealer.”

“Did you mention any of this to the chief of staff?” Meliana asked.

Charlie chuckled. “Every time I see him, although lately I’ve noticed he tends to dart down side corridors whenever our paths threaten to converge.”

Zack perched on the arm of Julie’s chair. “What got Charlie hot was that some poor woman wound up taking an unprescribed handful of antidepressants.”

“They were far stronger than anything she needed.” Charlie made circles in front of his headband. “She was in la-la land for three days. Her husband thought I’d set the dosage, so he called me. It took ninety minutes of questioning for me to figure out that she got the pills from the source—that being good old Tim. I tracked Carrick to his home, couldn’t find him, went to the sheriff’s office.” Charlie chuckled. “The sheriff was having ants exterminated from the jail cells, so he told Zack to deal with it.”

“Sounds like Sheriff Frank. He likes to delegate,” Meliana added in a stage whisper to Julie.

“He’s retiring next year.” Zack arched a brow in Julie’s direction. “If you’re looking to get out of the rat race, Blue Lake’s going to need a new sheriff, and neither Phil nor I are in the running.”

Meliana rested her head on the sofa cushions. “Why not?”

“Because Phil’s too lazy, and I want out.”