Читать книгу No Regrets - JoAnn Ross - Страница 13

Chapter Three

Reece was almost home free. His grueling shift was over, he’d showered, shampooed the smell of disinfectant, disease and death out of his hair, shaved and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that didn’t have a single bloodstain on it. He took the poinsettia he’d remembered to buy for Lena, and was headed toward the door when he saw a ragged man arguing with the security guard.

He considered trying to sneak out another exit, but recognizing Thomas and knowing that Molly would never forgive him if he turned his back on whatever problem was plaguing the former priest this time, Reece cursed beneath his breath and waded into the breach.

“What’s wrong, Thomas?”

“It’s Molly.” The eyes beneath the filthy hair were wild with distress. “I tried carrying her here, but—”

“Where is she?” Reece interrupted, tossing the poinsettia toward the nearby counter. It missed and landed on the floor, spilling dirt and breaking stems, but no one noticed.

“Out there.” He pointed a filthy finger. “She’s in bad shape, Doc.”

That was, Reece discovered, an understatement. Her face was bruised and battered, her eyes were swollen shut, she was stripped nearly naked, allowing him to see the bite marks on her breasts and the vaginal bleeding. She was also unconscious.

“Jesus Christ.” He knelt down and felt her thready pulse.

“Christ has nothing to do with this, Doc. Whoever did this to Saint Molly was a devil.”

Reece couldn’t argue with that. As he scooped her from the pile of trash, he understood the impetus behind crimes of passion. He was not, by nature, a violent man. But he could easily kill with his bare hands whoever had done this to Molly.

Thomas followed him to the hospital door. “Is she going to die?”

Reece looked at the distress on the man’s haggard face, and for the first time since Molly had introduced them, felt a kinship with this man whose life had gone so tragically wrong.

“Not on my watch,” Reece promised. The doors hissed open and he carried her into the light. And to safety.

* * *

A few miles away, a young woman cursed beneath her breath as she viewed the flashing lights in her rearview mirror.

“Terrific,” Tessa Davis thought as she pulled her Mustang convertible over at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine.

The days when movie stars, bathed in the dazzling glow of klieg lights, arrived in limousines to attend premieres at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre were long past. And the fabled glitter surrounding the walk of fame had given way to junky tourist traps. Even so, as she’d driven into the city last week, Tessa had gazed in awe at the Hollywood sign gleaming like a beacon in the rising sun and imagined she could breathe in the scent of glamour and success.

Unfortunately, she was finding out what generations of beautiful women before her had discovered the hard way: success was not instantaneous. As she watched the cop climb off his motorcycle and come walking toward her, Tessa could envision additional hard-earned savings flying away.

She rolled down her window and flashed her most dazzling smile. The one that never failed to bring boys to their knees.

“Is something wrong, Officer?” Her eyes were wide and innocent.

“I don’t suppose you happened to notice that red light you just went through.”

“Was it red?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I was certain it was still yellow.”

“It was red.” He pulled off his black leather gloves. “May I see your driver’s license?”

Damn. He appeared immune to feminine charms. Sighing, Tessa took her billfold out of her purse and held it toward him.

“If you wouldn’t mind taking it out of the folder, ma’am,” he said politely.

Of all the cops in the city, she had to get Mr. Play-by-the-Book. Hadn’t anyone told him this was supposed to be the season of goodwill?

“I really am sorry.” She tried again as he perused the license.

“You’re from Oregon?” He looked up from the photo to her face.

“Portland.”

“And now you’ve come to Hollywood to be a movie star.”

He didn’t have to make it sound so impossible. When Tessa chose not to answer what she took to be a sarcastic question, he glanced across the street, where two women clad in fishnet stockings and short shorts leaned against a storefront.

“You know, this isn’t the safest neighborhood anymore,” he warned her. “Not even in the daytime.”

“Now you sound like my dad.”

“He didn’t want you to come to Lotusland,” the cop guessed.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Tessa sighed, thinking how General Marshall Patton Davis had her life all mapped out for her.

“Let me guess.” He folded his arms across the front of his leather jacket and rocked back on the heels of his boots. “You were supposed to get your teaching degree from the local college.”

“Actually, I was majoring in fine arts at the University of Portland.”

“Close enough.” His smile revealed appealing dimples. “Then, after graduation, you’d settle down with the boy next door—”

“The air force aviator next door.”

“Ah.” He grinned at that. A broad flash of white that held considerable charm. “So you were destined to be Mrs. Top Gun.”

“Mrs. Tom Kelly.” Despite the circumstances, Tessa was beginning to enjoy herself.

He gave her a quick, unthreatening perusal. “I can’t see you spending your life playing the role of a loyal, supportive military wife while your husband played war games with his macho pals.”

“Neither could I. Which is why I’m here.” It might not have been a bad life, being married to Tommy and having his babies. If she hadn’t had other plans.

Big plans. Like becoming a famous actress. And someday earning her own star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame.

“And now you’re going to be the next Demi Moore.”

Tessa lifted her chin. “The first Tessa Starr.” Tessa Davis, she’d decided long ago, was too boring for the woman she intended to be.

He laughed at that. A rich, bold sound that slipped beneath her skin and warmed her in a way that Tommy never had. “You’ve definitely got the right attitude. And the looks. If you’ve got even a smidgen of talent—”

“I have a lot of talent.”

“Sounds like you’re on your way. So, have you found a place to stay yet?”

“I’ve rented a room in West Hollywood.” At first she’d been a bit taken aback by the red-haired transvestite dressed in a marabou-trimmed dressing gown who owned the house, but the room in the funky bungalow was the most affordable she’d been able to find that didn’t remind her of the Bates Motel.

“Sounds like you did okay,” he said when she told him about her landlord and gave him her address. “But I think I’ll run the guy through the computer, just to make sure he doesn’t have a record.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s perfectly safe.”

“Probably is. But I’d never forgive myself if he turns out to be a serial killer and I end up investigating the disappearance of the first Tessa Starr. Protect And Serve, that’s our motto.” He dimpled again in a way that made her feel warm all the way to her toes. “So, do you have any plans for Christmas dinner?”

“I saw a sign in the window at Denny’s advertising the turkey special.” She refrained from admitting she’d been there applying for a job after discovering that waitress positions at all the trendy eateries were filled by equally gorgeous women who’d gotten to Los Angeles before her.

“Denny’s?” He shook his head. “That’s no way to spend your first Christmas in Tinseltown. How would you like to have dinner with me?”

“With you?” As a policeman, he was undoubtedly safe. But Tessa didn’t think it wise to allow herself to be picked up by the first handsome stranger she met.

“I should have mentioned that I’m eating at my brother’s house. My mother will be there. She can properly introduce us.”

Even her overprotective air force general father couldn’t complain about that, Tessa decided. “If you’re sure your brother won’t mind last-minute company.”

He laughed. “Miles always throws a bash on Christmas Day. So many people show up, you could probably invite the entire Dodgers team—and their families—and he wouldn’t notice. Although,” he said on afterthought, “I doubt if anyone would miss your appearance.”

The masculine appreciation in his friendly blue eyes was all it took to overcome Tessa’s last lingering concern. “It sounds wonderful.”

“Terrific. Why don’t you go home and change into something a bit more festive while I finish up my shift. Then I’ll pick you up about two this afternoon.”

Although Tessa hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, the idea of spending her first holiday alone had been more than a little depressing.

There was just one more little thing. “What about my ticket?”

He shrugged. “It’s Christmas. I suppose I can let you get away with a warning.” His eyes sparkled with laughter. “This time.”

As she watched him walk back toward his motorcycle, Tessa took this serendipitous meeting as a sign that her dreams really would come true.

It was only after the cycle had roared away that Tessa realized she’d never thought to ask his name.

* * *

She was flying. From her bird’s-eye vantage point, high in the stunningly clear sky, Molly could see the vast cobalt expanse of the Pacific Ocean, edged by ribbons of sparkling, diamond-bright sand. The tide was ebbing, leaving pastel pink and ivory shells in its frothy wake. She soared higher, taking in the lush green hills, the unmistakable Los Angeles skyline, the crescent-shaped bay off Catalina Island. The sun was a gleaming ball, sinking toward the water, casting a ruby-and-copper glow over the landscape, giving it an otherworldly appearance.

It was so quiet up here, with only the sound of the air rushing over her outstretched arms. So peaceful. Looking down at the idyllic-appearing landscape, one would never imagine that the city could harbor so much cruelty, pain and suffering. She began to soar even higher, toward the vast firmament with its sparkling stars and Milky Way glittering like gold dust scattered over midnight blue velvet.

As she flew past the sun, her flowing silver sleeves suddenly went up in flames, engulfing her in a blazing fireball. She came crashing back to earth, hitting the ground with a bone-rattling thud that made her moan.

“Reece! She’s coming to!”

Lena’s familiar voice sounded as if it was coming from the bottom of the sea. Molly thought she heard Reece answer, but she could not make out the words. She struggled to regain consciousness, tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy and her mind was so fogged, she gave up the attempt and drifted back into the mists.

The next time she woke, the sun was streaming in through the window, and Molly wondered what she was doing in bed in the middle of the day. She must be ill, she decided. But that was odd because she never got sick. The nuns at the Good Shepherd Home for Girls had always said she had the constitution of a horse. And the personality of a mule.

Concentrating mightily, Molly managed to rouse herself, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Her muscles were screaming with pain, there was a bone-deep throbbing between her legs, her breasts felt as if someone had touched a torch to them and her face ached horribly. So horribly, Molly wondered if her dream of burning up hadn’t been a dream at all.

It took a herculean effort, but she managed to pry her eyes open. The first thing she saw was Reece, slouched in a plastic chair across the room. He was asleep.

She opened her mouth to say his name, but her lips were too dry to form the words. Her faint moan snapped him from his light sleep.

“It’s about time you decided to wake up and join the living.” As a doctor, Reece had thought he’d become immune to suffering and death. Until he’d seen Molly lying amidst all that garbage, valiantly clinging to life.

He held out a plastic glass, encouraging her to take a sip of water from the straw. “Not too much.” He took the glass away too soon. It seemed she’d barely had a chance to wet her lips.

“I’m…so…thirsty.” It was not Molly’s nature to complain. But she felt as if all the sand on the Los Angeles coastline had somehow ended up in her mouth.

“I know. But you’ve been on IVs for the past eight hours, so you’re in no danger of dehydration—”

“Eight hours?”

“Thomas found you when I was going off shift.”

Thomas? She shook her head, then wished she hadn’t, when lightning flashed behind her eyes and boulders inside her head shifted.

“Was I—” she had to struggle to get the words out “—in an accident?” Molly felt as if she’d been run over by a bus.

“There’s plenty of time to get into details later.” He reached down and brushed her dark hair away from her forehead with a soothing touch. ”Lena’s been going out of her mind with worry. She’s in the cafeteria. Let me go get her.”

He left the room, leaving her question unanswered.

Molly was staring up at the ceiling, trying to focus her mind, which she realized was fogged with some heavy-duty painkiller—Demerol?—when she became aware of the sound of footfalls on the tile floor.

The sight of the blue uniform took her back suddenly to that terrifying night when the house had been surrounded by police. She could hear the unforgettable sound of the front door being kicked in, and she gasped involuntarily. The sudden intake of breath was incredibly painful.

“The doc said your ribs are cracked,” a baritone voice rumbled. “You probably should avoid any deep breaths.” Ignoring hospital rules, he sat down on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

His face bore a striking resemblance to Alex Kovaleski. But this was not the man who’d tried for so many hours to talk her father out of murder. It was his son, Dan, who had, over the intervening years, become almost like a brother to Molly.

“Thirsty,” she managed.

He glanced over at the pink plastic glass. “Did Reece say you’re allowed to drink anything?”

“Since when did you become a stickler for rules and procedure?”

He laughed at that and held out the glass to her. “Welcome back. I told Lena that low-life slimeball couldn’t beat the spunk out of you.”

“Beat?” After taking a long wonderful drink, she tried to blink away the fog clouding her memory. “I was beaten?”

“Aw, hell. Reece didn’t tell you?”

“No.” But Dan Kovaleski’s frown spoke volumes. “I guess it’s up to you.”

He looked as if he’d rather try to serve a speeding ticket on Zsa Zsa Gabor. “How about we wait and see what the doc thinks you’re ready to hear?”

“I never would have taken you for a coward, Daniel Kovaleski.”

He cursed ripely. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got to be the most stubborn female God ever made?”

“All the time.” The familiar sparring helped clear her head and take her mind momentarily off her pain. “Personally, I’ve always taken it as a compliment.”

“You would.” He cursed again, softer this time as he linked their fingers together. “There weren’t any witnesses, Molly. At least none that we could find, which doesn’t mean anything.

“Right now, all we know is that you left the hospital a little before midnight. Six hours later, Thomas showed up at the ER door, frantic because he’d found you lying unconscious in the alley a few blocks away.”

Her fingers tightened on his. “Is he all right?”

Dan shrugged. He had never liked Molly’s dangerous predilection for picking up strays. “Thomas is Thomas. He’s the same as he always is. Nuts.”

“He’s in emotional pain,” she managed to argue. “But he still managed to get help for me.”

“Point taken.” His gaze drifted out the window toward the mean streets. “It’s also a possibility that he’s the one who did this to you in the first place, then suffered a sudden case of remorse. Or fear.”

“Thomas would never hurt anyone.”

Dan’s expression was cop hard. “You can’t be sure of that, Molly.”

“I’d stake my life on it.”

“When all that Demerol wears off and you can think rationally again, you might just realize that may be exactly what you’ve done.”

Although the brief conversation had exhausted her, she had to stand up for a man she knew didn’t have the strength to stand up for himself. “Thomas isn’t responsible.”

“Actually, you’re probably right,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. Two strong-willed people, they’d argued often over the years and neither was fond of losing. “Since the test results came back negative.”

“Test results?”

A reluctant smile hovered at the corner of his grimly set lips. “From what we could tell, you bopped the guy a good one, kiddo. Not all that blood in the alley was yours.”

“Nor Thomas’s.”

“No.” He gave her a long look as if judging whether or not to say more.

Belatedly understanding his dilemma, Molly decided to help him out. “I was raped, wasn’t I?”

He closed his eyes, briefly. When he opened them, Molly saw regret and embarrassment. “Yeah.” He exhaled a long breath. “Hell, Molly, I’m so sorry.”

She thought of all the rape victims who’d come through the doors of the ER and realized that in some way, she might be fortunate her memory had blocked out the assault. “You and Reece don’t need to tiptoe around the subject. I’m no different than any other rape victim.”

“Yes you are,” Dan shot back. “The fact of your being a nun—and a virgin—should put you off-limits to creeps like that.”

Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, had been raped, Molly remembered. When she also recalled that Dinah’s brothers had massacred all the men in the rapist’s city to avenge the defilement of their sister, she decided not to share that particular Bible story with this grim-faced man.

“Virgins get raped every day. Some of them are children.” Although her eyes were barely slits, she managed to meet his frustrated gaze. “And I’ve seen you deal with that.”

“True.” This time it was his fingers that tightened on hers. “But what you don’t see is me throwing up afterward.”

Molly tried to smile, then flinched when the attempt pulled the stitches Reece had sewn in her top and bottom lips. “You’re a good man, Dan. And you’re definitely your father’s son.”

His grip loosened, his smile brightened his brown eyes. “Speaking of Pop, he’s been driving everyone nuts waiting to get in to see you.”

Amazingly, Alex Kovaleski had taken an interest in the orphaned McBride sisters after that fateful night fourteen years ago. He’d even tried to adopt them, only to be informed that divorced men were not suitable fathers for little girls.

The bureaucrats were wrong. Molly didn’t want to think about how much worse their rocky childhoods would have been without Alex Kovaleski in their corner.

He’d attended her Profession Day, his chest puffed up with pride as she’d repeated her vows and had the slender gold ring of Christ slipped onto her finger. And although he was a man given to wearing plaid shirts and jeans while off duty, he’d willingly donned a morning coat to give Lena away at her wedding to Reece. Her unconscious smile tugging at the stitches returned Molly’s mind to her reason for being a patient in her own hospital, but before she had a chance to think about that, Lena rushed into the room and threw her arms around her older sister.

“Do you have any idea how much you frightened us?” she asked on a sob as tears streamed down her delicate cheeks. “I was so afraid I’d lose you. Just like…”

Lena didn’t finish the sentence. There was no need. Molly knew they were both thinking of their mother. And Tessa.

“I know.” Although the tight embrace was making her ribs feel as if they were on fire, Molly hugged her sister back. “It’s okay. I’m going to be fine.”

“Of course you will,” Lena agreed. Belatedly remembering Molly’s injuries, she released her. “And as soon as Reece lets you out of here, we’re going to have the biggest celebration in history.” She gave Dan a watery smile. “You and your dad are invited.”

He grinned back. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They might not be a Norman Rockwell painting, Molly admitted. But she and Lena and Reece, along with Dan and Alex, made one pretty terrific family. And even as her head throbbed and her body ached, she felt the warmth of love in the room and knew everything was going to be all right.