Читать книгу Bound By Passion - Katherine Garbera, Cara Summers - Страница 16

7

NELL STOOD IN front of a long glass window. Beyond it Deanna Lewis lay in a narrow hospital bed flanked by serious-looking machines that beeped and blinked continuously. A nurse was in the room replacing an IV.

Ever since they’d left the car, Reid had slipped back into the role of Secret Service agent. He’d introduced himself and shown his badge to the young officer who was standing guard at Deanna Lewis’s door. Officer Jameson had been polite, but he’d asked them to wait while he contacted his superior officer.

Signaling them to join him, the young man said, “Sheriff Skinner over in Glen Loch has cleared you.”

Reid nodded to him, then turned as the nurse opened the door. “How is Miss Lewis?”

“There’s been no change in her condition since the surgery.” The woman’s name tag read Nancy Braxton. Nell estimated she was in her late twenties. Leading them back into the room, Braxton continued, “Dr. Knight stops in to see her every day. He’s confident that she’s healing, but there’s no way to tell when she might come out of the coma.”

“And there have been no visitors?” Reid asked.

“No. The police have been quite explicit about that. The only people who have been allowed in this room are doctors, nurses or members of our volunteer staff.”

“There was a reporter from the New York Times who stopped by last week,” Officer Jameson said from the doorway. “I told him about the no-visitor policy.”

“A reporter?” Reid asked.

“Very polite young man. James Orbison,” Jameson said.

“Can you describe him?” Reid asked.

“Medium height, short brown hair, slender build,” Jameson said.

“Cute,” Nurse Braxton added. “He wore preppy clothes, and the glasses added a geeky aura. Sexy.”

Jameson glanced at the nurse with a raised eyebrow. “Sexy?”

Braxton shrugged. “Just saying.”

Reid interrupted the byplay. “Anything else you can recall?”

“He said he’d written an article about Castle MacPherson a little over six months ago,” Jameson said. “He’d convinced his editor to let him do a follow-up piece once some of the Stuart sapphires were discovered.”

“You didn’t let him visit Ms. Lewis?”

“No. He did see her through the glass. No way to prevent that. And he had questions about her condition. But I told him that he’d have to talk to Sheriff Skinner over in Glen Loch if he wanted any further information. He said that the sheriff was next on his list.” Jameson’s gaze shifted to Deanna. “She’s such a pretty little thing. It’s hard to believe that she threatened to kill someone.”

Nell agreed with the young officer’s assessment. Even with her head wrapped in bandages, Deanna Lewis was pretty. Hooked up to all the tubes and wires, she looked fragile and defenseless. Yet she’d taken out Duncan with a Taser shot and then kidnapped Piper at gunpoint.

“You mentioned that members of the volunteer staff are allowed in the room,” Reid said. “Who are they exactly?”

“Oh, we have an amazing group of people who volunteer their services here at the hospital,” Nurse Braxton said. “Many of them are senior citizens, but we also have college students who are required to do community service as part of their degree programs. Since Deanna didn’t have any family visiting, Dr. Knight asked the woman who runs the service if she could find someone to spend time reading to her. He believes that the sound of a human voice often speeds the recovery of coma patients.”

“And the volunteers do that?” Reid asked.

“One volunteer,” Nurse Braxton said. “After her first visit, she said she’d try to come back every day. But the day before yesterday, she said she had to go out of town for a couple of days and not to expect her back for a few days.”

Nell glanced at Reid, and she could tell what he was thinking. She asked the question. “What did this woman look like?”

“Brunette, tall and very attractive. In her early fifties, I’d say. Well dressed. Good jewelry.”

“Did you notice a ring on her finger?” Nell asked.

Nurse Braxton nodded. “Yes. A gold one with a kind of crest on it. I remarked on it. She said it was the family coat of arms.”

“Gwen was on her name tag,” Officer Jameson said. “She signed in as G. Harris.”

Reid turned to him. “Was she ever alone with the patient?”

“No, sir. I always left the door open when she came, just as I’m doing now. All Ms. Harris did was read to her. The same book each time. A children’s story with pictures. Sometimes she’d read it more than once.”

“Do you remember what the story was about?” Nell asked. But she was pretty sure she already knew.

“It was a fairy tale about this Scot who stole his true love away from her family, brought her to the New World and built her a castle with a magical stone arch. Made me think of the one over at Castle MacPherson.”

* * *

NELL WAS ASLEEP beside him when Reid turned down the dirt road that wound its way to the castle. He’d updated Duncan and Sheriff Skinner in Glen Loch before they’d left the hospital and then insisted on driving Nell’s car.

If Gwen Harris showed up again at the hospital, Officer Jameson or whoever was on guard would contact Skinner discretely. Reid and Nell hadn’t discussed what they’d learned; in fact, they’d barely spoken since they’d left the traffic of Albany behind. He could tell that, before she’d drifted off, she’d been doing exactly what he was doing—running through the possible explanations for the information they had gathered from their visit to the hospital. Nell’s subconscious mind was probably still busily looking at the various story lines while she slept. The problem was there were too many possibilities, and so far they couldn’t prove even one.

As the car crested a steep hill, he shifted his attention to the view. Below lay a postcard snapshot of Castle MacPherson tucked into the mountains on a rocky promontory overlooking a quiet blue lake. The image perfectly matched the one he’d carried around in his mind for seven years. The three stories of gray stone stood sturdy and strong, the sun glinting off its windows. Gardens stretched to the west, high cliffs to the east. He even caught a glimpse of Angus’s legendary stone arch at the edge of the gardens before the road took the final steep dip that ended at the castle drive.

As he pressed down on the brake for a sharp curve, he glanced over at Nell. She slept like a child, her hand tucked beneath her cheek on the car door. Keeping her safe had to be his top priority, but he wasn’t at all sure he could keep her safe from him.

File it away and forget it.

Excellent plan. Too bad he didn’t have a chance in hell of sticking to it. When they’d tried that experimental kiss, desire seemed too tame a word for the gut-deep, soul-searing arousal he’d experienced. That wasn’t the part that scared him the most. What did was that, at some point while he’d been kissing her, he’d wanted to give her more. He’d wanted to deny her nothing.

If that woman in the hospital parking lot hadn’t accidentally set off the alarm in her car, he would have made love to Nell right in the front seat of her Fiat. He’d never done anything quite that reckless in his entire life. Not even when his teenage hormones had been at their peak.

Just the thought of it tempted him to pull off onto a side road, find a spot that was a bit more private and finish what he’d started in the parking lot. Reckless and impulsive were qualities he ruthlessly suppressed. Now Nell was making him want to set them free.

Even more troubling was what he had felt when she had mentioned the man she’d fallen in love with. Jealousy. The coppery taste in his mouth, the wrench in his gut—both had been unprecedented.

He might be able to get out of this unscathed. If he dropped her at the castle and never saw her again. That scenario wasn’t open to him.

But if they started down the path where their desires were leading them, he didn’t see a happy ending for either of them.

He didn’t want to hurt her. She was young and idealistic, and she had this incredibly sunny outlook on life. There was no way she wouldn’t expect a happy-ever-after. And she should have it. In many ways, she’d always reminded him a bit of his mother. He’d seen, perhaps more than his brothers ever had, the kind of pain she’d suffered when she’d learned that their father had never loved her. Reid never wanted to be responsible for hurting anyone the way his father had hurt all of them. Better not to go there. Nell deserved someone who would love her and have a family with her.

Ahead of him, the road leveled and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires told him that he was on the driveway. The moment he turned the car around the curve, he spotted Viola MacPherson just outside the front door. The dog sitting at her feet had to be Alba. Cam had filled him in on the dog that Vi had brought home from a shelter when she’d starting hearing noises in the middle of the night.

The fact that Alba was deaf made her a strange choice as a watchdog, but her instincts had turned out to be spot-on, because she had exposed the con man threatening Adair’s life and wanting Eleanor’s sapphire earring.

Reid shifted his gaze to the tall man with the silver-streaked hair standing next to Vi—Cam’s boss at the CIA, Daryl Garnett. Reid knew Cam thought the world of him.

He pulled the car to a stop, then put his hand on Nell’s. “Nell?”

Even before she turned her head, her fingers linked with his. Her eyes opened, and as he looked into them, Reid felt himself being pulled into that world where only the two of them existed. He’d felt desire before. And he’d experienced passion. But nothing this intense. Nothing this irresistible.

Then Vi was opening the passenger door and in seconds, the two women were in each other’s arms, both talking over the other. The dog circled them once and then sat to watch.

When Reid climbed out of the car, Vi broke away from Nell long enough to envelope him in a hug. “Welcome back to Castle MacPherson.” Then she turned to draw her niece into the house.

“They’re going to need a few minutes,” Daryl said. “Vi says she hasn’t seen Nell for nearly a year because of that grant. In the meantime, I’ve got good news and bad news. Can I offer you a beer to wash both down?”

Reid smiled at him and extended his hand. “Cam said I was going to like you.”

* * *

IT TOOK HALF a bottle of beer, but Reid was feeling more relaxed than he had all day. He and Daryl were seated at a table on the terrace outside the kitchen. Over Daryl’s shoulder, Reid could see the sun streaking the sky with pink as it sank closer to the lake. He’d been formally introduced to Alba, who’d sniffed his hand and then stretched out in a waning patch of sunlight and fallen asleep. Beyond her, through the glass of the terrace doors, he could see Vi and Nell chatting as they put together a meal.

“Vi roasted a chicken,” Daryl said. “I think that’s her version of killing the fatted calf.”

Reid raised a brow. “If that’s the good news, I’d rather it was related to the case.”

Daryl grinned at him. “Vi’s cooking is always good news. And she’s celebrating the fact that the last of the Sutherland boys has finally returned to the castle. She’s always thought of you three in a very special way, and since you’re the final triplet to come back, that gives you prodigal son status. Don’t knock it. As I recall, Cam got sandwiches, and Duncan had to grill his own steak.”

Reid laughed. “Do me a favor and pass the word along to Cam about the chicken. It will just reinforce my status as the favored eldest son. But now, tell me you have something on Gwendolen Campbell.”

“I do. Duncan forwarded me the text you sent him from the hospital, and once I had the name, it didn’t take long to ID her. She had her name changed legally to Campbell six months ago. Before that, she was Gwendolen Harris.”

“The name she used at the hospital when she was visiting Deanna Lewis.”

“Turns out it isn’t the only name she’s gone by. Gerald Harris, the fifth Earl of Bainbridge, was her third husband,” Daryl said. “He was twenty years her senior, and she inherited millions when he died.”

“Explains the expensive clothes and jewelry.”

“Husband number two, Martin Hatcher, wasn’t short on money, either. Marrying him got her United States citizenship and she got his money when he passed on.”

“Sounds like a pattern,” Reid said.

“The pattern of a good grifter. But there’s more. Husband number one was Douglas Lewis, and Deanna was just three years old when her widowed father married Gwen. Gwendolen’s maiden name was MacDonald, and she was Douglas Lewis’s second wife. That’s why we didn’t run across Gwendolen before this. Cam has discovered that she was born and raised in a village not twenty miles away from what remains of the Campbell estate in Scotland. He and Adair are looking into that end of it. But MacDonald isn’t one of the names that pops up on the Campbell family tree that your mother discovered.”

Reid took a swallow of his beer. “So this Gwendolen MacDonald Lewis Hatcher Harris is Deanna Lewis’s stepmother. That would explain the visits to the hospital and offers a reason why they might be working together. But the question remains. Who is the man, or woman, who tried to run Piper down earlier today and how does he—or she—fit into the family picture?”

“We don’t know yet. That’s the bad news. Duncan says his friend at the police department will send us a rendering of the police artist’s sketch of the hit-and-run driver as soon as it’s completed. Then I’ll give it to Sheriff Skinner, and he’ll show it to Edie at the diner.”

Reid grinned. “Edie is still running the diner?”

“She is, and besides serving up the best pancakes in upstate New York, she also provides better local information than the internet. If anyone who looks like this guy shows up, we’ll get the news. It’s her granddaughter Molly who’s getting married here on Saturday, so Edie is especially interested in seeing that everything runs smoothly.”

Reid sipped his beer. “Can we provide enough security for the wedding?”

“It’s very small, and everyone is local. It will be impossible for someone to slip in unnoticed. The only outsider who might be attending is a young reporter from the New York Times, the one who did the original article that helped launch Castle MacPherson as a prime wedding destination.”

“If you’re talking about James Orbison, he dropped by the hospital to check on Deanna Lewis,” Reid said.

“Sheriff Skinner told me. Last week Orbison dropped by to see him, and he also contacted Vi to arrange an interview tomorrow. He wants to shadow her for the day. I’ve done a background check, and he seems squeaky clean. He has a degree in journalism from Princeton. His uncle is a senior editor for the Sunday Times magazine section, and James started working for him right after graduation. We can meet him when he comes to interview Vi tomorrow.”

“I want to ask him why he decided to write the original article on the castle.”

Setting down his beer, Daryl said, “One more thing. Now that we know there’s a connection between Deanna and Gwendolen and something about who they are, I’ve put some old friends of mine on it—a couple retired agents who are over in England. They’re going to work with Cam and Adair.”

Reid met Daryl’s eyes. “They’re going to have to be fast. I’m not sure we have as much time as they’ve given us.”

“What do you mean?”

Reid glanced to his right where he could see Nell and Vi moving about the kitchen. “Nell has this idea that she and her sisters are somehow destined to find the Stuart sapphires.”

Daryl thought for a moment. “You think she’s right?”

“I favor more practical scenarios, but I can’t dismiss her idea,” Reid said. “It sure didn’t take Adair and Piper long to discover the two earrings once they returned to the castle. It was almost as if they’d been drawn to them like magnets. If Nell’s right, she could discover the necklace very soon. Then she’ll be disposable. If she doesn’t find it fast, Vi could be in danger. That means that we can’t let either of these women out of our sight, until we’ve got all the players behind bars.”

He gestured to the two women in the kitchen. “As Nell has pointed out to me several times today—the clock is ticking.”

“I hear you,” Daryl said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few weeks, it’s that things tend to move quickly here. I have one piece of advice to give you.”

Reid turned to meet the older man’s gaze.

Daryl smiled. “Beware of the legend. If you don’t intend to marry a MacPherson woman, don’t let her kiss you beneath the stones.”