Читать книгу The Doctor Delivers - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 10

Nick had gotten a prescription of antibiotics filled and was coming back to Liza’s room when he noticed a man standing in the doorway.

“Excuse me,” he said, smiling briefly. “Are you visiting Miss Colton?”

The man jerked in surprise and backed out of the door, tucking one hand behind his back, then turned and ran down the hall.

Nick’s first concern was Liza. He stepped in the room to discover his patient pale and shaking. “Liza, what’s wrong?”

“That—that man!” she exclaimed, her breathing shallow.

“You want me to stop him?”

She nodded urgently, but her eyes were fearful.

Nick shoved the medicine in his pocket, turned and ran for the elevators. At the nurse’s desk, he said, “Call Security. Have them stop the man who just left this floor. He was wearing jeans and a blue shirt.”

“He took the stairs,” one nurse said even as she dialed the phone.

Nick did the same, racing down the stairs. He burst through the door into the main lobby, but despite a thorough search of the area, especially the front doors, he didn’t see the man. Nick grabbed a security guard, but no one had seen the stranger.

“You want me to call the police, Dr. Hathaway?” the guard asked, eager to please.

“No, thanks, Pete. I’ll talk to my patient. I think she’s leaving the hospital today anyway.”

“You just let us know, Doc. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know. I appreciate it, thanks.” Nick took the elevator back to the second floor and returned to Liza’s room.

“Who was that?” he asked as he entered.

“I—I don’t know,” she whispered, but she didn’t look at him.

“I think you do. I want to know if the police should be involved.”

He kept his gaze on her, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she gnawed her bottom lip, fear in her eyes. He figured he had a right to intervene if for no other reason than her health. Whatever was bothering her had caused her not to eat or sleep.

It sounded pretty serious to him.

“Did he threaten you?”

She nodded her head.

“What did he say?”

“’Where’s Emily?’” she repeated, obviously quoting the man. Then she burst into tears.

Without even thinking about his actions, Nick strode across the room and pulled Liza against him, stroking her back in a soothing motion. When she began to calm down, he asked, “Did he say anything else?”

She shook her head.

“I hate to tell you this, but ‘Where’s Emily?’ isn’t much of a threat.”

She sniffed and burrowed deeper against him. “He had a knife.”

Nick asked enough to realize the knife was a serious weapon. “Okay, so who’s Emily?”

At once, Liza stiffened and tried to draw away.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

She avoided his gaze even as she put some distance between them. “I have to go.”

“Where?”

“Back to the hotel.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe. What if the man finds you there?”

Her green eyes were huge as she thought about his words. “I—I don’t think he’ll come back,” she whispered.

“Because you’re going to call the police?”

She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what to do,” she wailed, her words coming out muffled.

“You’ve got to stay calm, Liza, if you’re going to get better. You have to concentrate on eating and sleeping. That’s what’s important.”

She shook her head. “Emily is— I mean, other things— I have to go to the hotel.”

Nick sat back and sighed. She might be weak. She might not have shown good judgment in skipping meals and sleep. But she was as stubborn as any woman he’d ever seen. “Okay, I’ll take you to the hotel, if you’ll let me come with you. And if you’ll call the police.”

“Maybe I should,” she finally said with a sigh. Then she looked at him again, drilling him with her green eyes. “Do you promise to keep everything you overhear between me and the police a secret?”

“I promise,” he said solemnly.

Once Dr. Hathaway got her to her room in the hotel, he told her to go shower and change clothes while he contacted the police.

“Ask for non-uniforms, please,” she asked in a wobbly voice. “I don’t want anyone in the hotel to wonder about the cops.”

He nodded.

So far he’d done exactly as she’d asked in everything, so she decided to trust him. Besides, a shower and clean clothes were necessary before she could face anyone.

But she felt she had to report the man to the police because she suspected he had something to do with Emily’s disappearance. Uncle Joe had told her not to speak to anyone, but she thought he would agree to her telling the Saratoga Springs police. They could contact the police in Prosperino, California, where her uncle’s huge estate was located.

Fifteen minutes later, she was exhausted but clean, dressed in black slacks and a green sweater, her hair still wet. She moussed and quickly styled it. Then she headed for the living room of her suite.

Dr. Hathaway stood as she entered and for the first time she noticed two other gentlemen in the room who also got to their feet. At least the police here were prompt.

“Liza Colton,” the doctor said smoothly as he came forward and took her arm, “these gentlemen are John Ramsey and Bill Wilson, detectives with the Saratoga Springs Police Department.”

He seemed to intuitively know she was feeling quite weak. Easing her into a nearby chair, he waved the officers back to the sofa. Then he hurried to answer a knock on her door.

Liza tensed, wondering if the knife-wielding stranger from the hospital had followed her back here. Instead, a waiter rolled in a cart. The doctor handed him some money and escorted him to the door.

“I ordered coffee,” he told the detectives, “and a snack. Ms. Colton needs to eat. This is her first time on her feet and she’s weak.”

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee myself,” one of the detectives said before turning to her. “Can you tell me what the problem is, Ms. Colton?”

Liza licked her lips, fearful of what she had to say. She looked at Dr. Hathaway again, and he nodded in support. “My—my cousin was kidnapped several days ago. At least, that’s what the ransom note said.”

The men exchanged looks. “What is your cousin’s name?” one of them asked.

“Emily Blair Colton.” She noted the doctor’s eyes narrowing, as he recognized the name. She added, “My uncle is Joe Colton. He’s a former California senator.” She knew his name would be much more recognizable than Emily’s. He was a multi-millionaire, as well as politically active.

“And the man today? The doctor said he threatened you.”

“Not exactly. He scared me by the way he stared at me, like he was going to hurt me, and he had a huge knife, but all he asked was where Emily was.” Before the policemen could speak, she hurriedly added, “I know that’s not a threat—” she spared the doctor a look “—but somehow I think he’s connected to her kidnapping.”

“You could be right. Can you describe him?”

“Yes.”

“If I can borrow the phone, I’ll call the station, see if we have any information on the kidnapping and request a police artist to come over.”

At her nod, Detective Ramsey stood and crossed to the phone.

Dr. Hathaway put a glass of milk in front of her along with a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies.

“We’ll help you eat those cookies,” he said with a grin, “but you’ve got to have one or two, okay?”

“I just finished breakfast,” she protested.

“That was several hours ago, and we both know you’re a little behind in the nourishment department.”

She blushed, aware of the other detective’s sharp look. She certainly didn’t want to explain anything else to these strangers. Including the fact that she’d talked to Emily after her escape and thought Emily was trying to contact her again.

She gasped and stared at the doctor. What if he mentioned the message from Mrs. Tremble?

He’d been watching her. “What?” he asked, kneeling beside her chair and reaching out to feel of her forehead. “Your throat hurt?”

“Uh, yes, a little.”

He snapped his fingers. “I forgot to give you the antibiotics.” He stood and pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket. “Here, take one of these morning and night until they’re all gone.”

Detective Ramsey returned to the sofa. “The police artist will be here in about fifteen minutes. Now, Ms. Colton, the kidnapping is being handled by the FBI. Our superintendent was quite surprised to discover anyone here knew about it.”

She nodded.

With barely a pause, he continued, “Which made him wonder why someone involved in the kidnapping would come all this way to ask you about Ms. Colton.”

Liza had been lifting the milk glass to her mouth to help her swallow the pill, and his question caused the glass to wobble, splashing milk on the coffee table.

Dr. Hathaway quickly steadied her hand and helped her take a drink. It gave her time to think of her answer.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She used a napkin to wipe up the spill. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I’m a little weak today. To answer your question, Emily and I are very close, more like sisters than—than cousins. I suppose if—if she escaped from whoever took her, they would expect her to come to me.”

“And you haven’t seen her or talked to her?” Detective Wilson asked, both men’s gazes fixed on her.

In spite of the temptation to look at the doctor, Liza faced her inquisitors and quietly said, “No. I’ve neither seen her nor talked to her. But I wish I had.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ramsey said, nodding. “But do you have any idea where she might’ve gone if she escaped from whoever took her?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “But it’s a good sign, isn’t it? I mean, if the bad guys are looking for her, that means they don’t have her, doesn’t it?”

The two detectives exchanged a look. Then Ramsey said, “The ransom was paid yesterday, Ms. Colton. They didn’t catch the guy who collected the money and your cousin hasn’t been found.”

“Maybe the man you saw today was her boyfriend,” the second detective suggested.

“No! He was—he was in his forties and ugly.” The doctor raised one of his eyebrows and she hastily said, “I don’t mean ugly as in not handsome. I mean…not nice.” She swallowed and rubbed her throat. Then she whispered, “Emily is only nineteen. She’s so sweet, so gentle. She wouldn’t have anything in common with this man.”

The doctor got up to sit on the arm of her chair. “Lean back and breathe deeply, Liza. You’re getting all tensed up again. And don’t talk so much.”

She did as he asked and closed her eyes. His closeness helped her to take a deep breath. Strange how quickly she’d come to rely on him.

“We’ll try to wrap this up quickly, Ms. Colton. We checked on the messages you’ve received here. One from your mother and another from a Mrs. Tremble. Can you tell me what they had to say?”

Nick felt the tension rise again in her. He quickly said, “If you don’t mind me explaining, officers, to save my patient’s throat, I spoke to her mother last night after she left the message here. Her mother is also her manager and she was concerned about Liza’s schedule. There was no mention of Liza’s cousin.”

“And Mrs. Tremble?”

“I don’t know who the woman is, but I can assure you Liza hasn’t spoken to her. She spent the night in the hospital and received no calls. I’ve been with her since.”

“Ms. Colton, if you could just—”

“Housekeeper,” she said, her voice raspy again.

“And have you returned her call?” Ramsey asked.

She shook her head and pointed to her throat.

“Oh, that’s right. Besides, she said she’d call today, didn’t she?”

Liza nodded again but didn’t try to speak.

“Is that all the questions, gentlemen?” Nick intervened. “I’d like her to save her voice to describe the man for the sketch artist.”

“Yes, of course. What’s wrong with Ms. Colton’s throat?”

Nick looked at Liza, knowing he could refuse to say anything, but he feared to do so might make the men suspicious. And he had figured out that Liza was hiding something. “It’s a combination of a slight infection and exhaustion. It seems she gave up eating or sleeping once she was told about her cousin’s disappearance. She’s been very concerned. It doesn’t take the body long to deteriorate under those conditions.”

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the artist. Nick opened the door and invited him in. The two detectives, after greeting the man, picked up their cups of coffee and moved to the window to talk quietly.

Nick returned to the arm of Liza’s chair. Her welcoming smile warmed his heart. She wanted him close. He reached for her glass of milk. “Take a drink before you try to speak again,” he suggested.

She took the glass from him and took a long drink. Then she greeted the artist.

With gentle, perceptive questions, the artist drew Liza out as she described the man. Nick helped, since he’d also seen him. When the artist finished and held up the resulting sketch, both Nick and Liza agreed that he’d done a good job of drawing the man.

The two detectives came back to stand behind the sofa and look at the sketch.

“Do you recognize him?” Liza asked. When she looked at the sketch she gulped, her eyes wide with fear. The drawing was dead-on: a big, burly man with a full head of coal-black hair.

Nick reached for her hand and held it against his thigh. “Rest, Liza. Your throat is sounding worse again.”

“No, ma’am, but he looks like a rough character, like an out-of-shape ex-fighter. He’d be pretty noticeable here in Saratoga Springs. We’ll see if we can pick up a trace of him. I suspect he bribed one of the employees downstairs to give him your location. The doctor said he only told the hotel, with a warning not to let out the information, and the Music Hall people, with the same warning.”

She nodded.

They sent the artist back to the station, with a request that he only show the sketch to the chief.

After he’d left, Ramsey sat back down on the sofa. “Now, Ms. Colton, what are your plans? Are you leaving the city?”

The lost look on her face bothered Nick. He wanted to pull her into his arms and promise to keep her safe. A ridiculous thought! He had nothing to do with Liza Colton, popular singer. She probably had tons of people to keep her safe.

Like her mother? he wondered derisively. That woman wouldn’t waste of moment of concern for her own daughter.

“I…don’t know. Doctor—”

Nick took over. “My patient isn’t well enough to travel yet. She’ll stay in town for another day or two, I’m sure. But we’ll let you know when she returns to New York City.”

“You have a place there?” the detective asked.

She nodded. Then she added, “An apartment.”

“Is that where Mrs. Tremble is?”

Nick felt her tense again. That name had set off her tension the last time.

“California,” she whispered.

“Well, if you’ll give us a number where you can be reached when you go back to New York City, we’ll keep you updated on anything we find out,” Ramsey said. Then he stood. “We’ll go and let you rest.” He started to walk to the door. Then he stopped and looked at Nick. “You going to stay with her? I don’t think that man will come back, but—”

Nick interrupted him as he felt Liza grow even more tense. “I’ll be with her.”

“Thanks, Doc. Call us if anything comes up.”

“I will,” he assured him as he stood to escort them to the door. When he closed the door behind them, he turned to look at his patient.

He had a question or two for her. But the exhaustion on her face stopped him. Satisfying his curiosity wasn’t as important as her health.

“Time for you to rest, young lady.”

Her eyes popped open and she shot him a worried look.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on you. There’s a golf tournament on that I want to see and you just happen to have a big screen TV”

“I— Thank you. I shouldn’t be tired,” she whispered, “but I am.”

“Need me to carry you to bed?” he asked, ignoring her protest.

“No!” she said with a gasp. She pushed herself up from the chair, then wavered.

Nick reached out to steady her. “Okay, just take my arm and we’ll stroll to the bed.”

She put her hand on his bent arm. He loved the warmth of her near him, her depending on him. You’re being foolish, he warned himself. The moment she gets well, she’ll be focused on her career again and have no need for you.

But she needed him now.

Liza fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, comforted by the last words she heard the doctor say. He’d keep watch until she woke up.

Five hours later, she stirred, not sure what had awakened her. The late afternoon sun was pouring into the room from the opened draperies. Was that what had bothered her? Or had there been a noise?

Immediately, fear filled her. Was the doctor there? Had that man returned? Or maybe the phone had rung. Maybe Emily had called and she’d missed it.

She sat up in the bed, still tired, but a little more awake.

“Dr. Hathaway?” she called, and waited anxiously for him to open the bedroom door. Relief poured through her when he did. She checked her watch. It was just after four o’clock. She was going to owe him a whopping bill for round-the-clock care.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, smiling at her.

Such a handsome man. It would be easy to have him around, she decided, to look at if nothing else. “Fine. Has anyone called?”

“Nope. Oh, I take that back. Your mother called, but she didn’t want to talk to me.” He grinned like a little boy who’d done a magic trick. “She hung up.”

She couldn’t help smiling back. Making her mother disappear would be a magic trick indeed. Cynthia normally traveled with Liza, but she’d been negotiating an appearance on a talk show in Chicago and had left her here in Saratoga Springs.

“Anyone else?”

“Nope. I didn’t awaken you for lunch. Are you hungry?” he asked, watching her.

She laughed, her voice a little shaky, still with a huskiness that wasn’t normal. “I think all you try to do is fill me up with food.”

“Well, so far I haven’t done such a good job. You missed lunch. Why don’t you slip on your slacks and we’ll go to the restaurant downstairs.”

“No! I mean, I need to be here in case I get any calls,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

He left the door and walked over to her bed, sitting down on the edge as he’d done in the hospital.

“Before we make any decisions about dinner, I think you’d better answer a question for me.”

She supposed she owed him that at least, since he’d done so much for her. With a hesitant nod, she watched him.

“Who is Mrs. Tremble?”