Читать книгу The Listener - Kay David - Страница 9

MARIA ADJUSTED the fresh tulips and freesias that sat on the corner of her desk—for the third time that morning. The fussing was pointless, but she had to do something and she didn’t want to look at her watch again. If she did, she’d only get more angry than she was already. After a second, she gave up and looked anyway. It was twenty-five past the hour.

She stood suddenly and crossed to the window. A summer storm was threatening to move in, with billowing clouds hovering over the water, turning the green sea into a metallic gray. She watched a line of sailboats head for the marina and thought about Ryan Lukas. She’d been pretty sure he wasn’t going to show up for his appointment, but the inconsiderateness still irked her. She could have used the time to meet with Chris’s counselor again. She’d wanted to have a follow-up meeting this week, but because of her schedule had been unable to do so. How much trouble would it have been for Ryan to pick up the phone and call her?

She was kidding herself, of course. Ryan Lukas wasn’t going to acknowledge her in any way; to do so would mean facing his problem, admittedly in a minor fashion, but even that was more than he could handle. Full and complete denial was his only mode of operation at this point.

Her aggravation fled as the observation registered. Ryan needed help and needed it now. He was aching inside and didn’t know how to ease the hurt.

She turned away from the glass and buzzed the receptionist. “Sher, I’m going to make a call. If my 3:00 p.m. comes in, would you beep me on the other line?”

“Sure thing.” Sherlyn Eliot was a cheerful motherly type who handled all the calls for the five therapists who shared Maria’s suite. “He’s the hunky one, right? Lieutenant Lukas. I remember him.”

“Uh…right. Lieutenant Lukas.”

Maria put the receiver down, the woman’s words ringing in her mind. She never saw her patients as anything other than patients. Ethics demanded this, and in addition, Maria had simply stopped looking at men after she’d married. She’d considered herself out of the race, and for all the reasons every single woman understood, she hadn’t bothered to start looking again.

She wasn’t about to change that, either. With Christopher’s problems and her stressful workload, a man was the last complication Maria needed. Especially someone with an emotional life as tangled as Ryan Lukas’s. Even if he wasn’t a client, he’d never be the kind of person she’d date. The one man she’d seen since her divorce had proved to be such a disaster she need only remember him for encouragement—he’d wanted free therapy, not a real relationship.

Having been there for Maria then, she could imagine what Jackson would think about Lukas. He’d roll over and die, she was sure.

With that thought, she lifted the phone again and speed dialed his number. Jackson Maxwell had been her therapist and consultant on various cases for the past ten years. Now they were best friends. He always listened with a neutral ear and guided her toward the right decisions without actually telling her what to do. It was a skill not too many people had, but Jackson had perfected the art. And Maria loved him for it.

“Powell’s Antiques.” Richard Powell, Jackson’s partner, answered the phone on the first ring. He and Jackson had been together for twenty-five years and when Jackson had retired from his practice, Richard had immediately recruited him into his business. Claiming forced labor, Jackson had complained, but Maria knew deep down he’d actually been scared. Leaving the profession he’d loved and having spare hours to fill could be a frightening prospect. She wasn’t sure how well the arrangement was going, but personally, she couldn’t imagine having all the time in the world to do whatever caught her fancy. She’d always had more work, at the office and at home, than she could handle.

“Richard, this is Maria. Is Jackson around by any chance?”

“Maria! He’s supposed to be here somewhere, but I swear he’s hiding. I told him to dust the crystal vases in the back room and he disappeared.”

Maria laughed. “I’d disappear, too, if you told me that. Last time I was in there you pointed to one and said ‘Twenty thousand.’ That’d scare off anyone!”

“Well, we’ll be drowning in crystal if someone doesn’t get back there and clean it up so I can sell it. Just a minute, though, I’ll see if I can unearth him….”

She heard him drop the phone and yell Jackson’s name. A few seconds later, an extension clicked on, Jackson’s voice coming out in a whisper. “Come save me, Maria! I swear to God, he’s driving me crazy…. Is this really what he does all day?”

Maria laughed again. “You wanted a new life,” she warned. “This is what you got.”

“I’m ready to go back to the crazy people, then. Do you want a partner?”

“Maybe we could work out a deal…. What do you think about switching with me? You take my whole life and I’ll take yours.”

“Is Christopher part of the package?” Jackson and her child had always been close; Christopher was the son Jackson didn’t have. “I might consider a switch if he comes with the deal.”

“I don’t think you’ll feel that way after you hear why I’m calling.”

With as little fanfare as possible, she told Jackson what had happened. “I don’t understand what’s going on with him,” she concluded.

“He misses his daddy.”

“I know that.”

“And he feels abandoned.”

“I know that.”

“Then what’s the problem? Cut the little guy some slack, for God’s sake!”

“You don’t understand.” Sighing heavily, she realized her mistake; Jackson would defend Chris as staunchly as he could. “You haven’t seen him for a few months, Jackson. It’s not just the grades—he’s changed. He won’t talk to me at all and when he does, his attitude is surly. And the music he listens to…you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Do you think he’s doing drugs?”

“No.” If there was one thing she was sure of, it was this. “We’ve had a lot of discussions about drugs and he’s always talking about the ‘stupid’ kids he knows who do that.”

“Things can change.”

“Of course,” she agreed, “but not that. I’m sure.”

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face. But he doesn’t talk back.”

“Then you’re going to have to find another route. You’ve got to get the lines of communication open, Maria. That’s the key.”

Frustration filled her voice…and her heart. “I know,” she said. “But what I don’t know is how.”

“Bring him out here. He and I have always seen eye to eye. Maybe he’ll talk a bit to me and that’s all it’d take.”

The suggestion immediately sounded like a good one, but Maria hesitated. “Are you sure? He’s not exactly fun to be around….”

“Neither am I right now,” Jackson snorted. “We’ll get along just fine. Bring him out.”

They talked about the situation a few more minutes and Maria ended up promising Jackson that she and Chris would visit soon. Just before they finished, almost as if by afterthought, she spoke casually. “By the way, I’ve got a new client who seems interesting…or at least I should have a new client. He’s the countersniper for the SWAT team. He didn’t show up for his appointment today.”

“The countersniper? That should be a fascinating brain to examine. Wait just a minute….” She heard the sound of a paper rustling. “I see him,” Jackson said over the noise. “The team’s photo is in the Log today. Something about a rally they’re holding.”

Maria walked from behind her desk to a table by the window, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear. She’d brought the local newspaper, the Destin Log, with her this morning and stuffed it into her briefcase, hoping to scan it at lunch. Lena had already told Maria about the event—and was holding tickets for her at the station. Maria reached into the case and brought out the paper.

“Page five,” he said.

She quickly flipped to the proper page. The photo was front and center, and Ryan Lukas’s face immediately jumped out at her. Except for Beck Winters, a blond giant who was the team’s former negotiator, Ryan was the tallest person in the photograph. Dressed in the black uniform of the team, his hair ruffled in the wind, he wore a stony expression.

Maria realized without warning that Sher’s description had been accurate. Ryan Lukas was a hunk. Dark hair, compelling eyes, a body ready for anything.

Jackson’s words jarred her. “He does look the part, doesn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s got a thousand-yard stare, for one thing. But for another…”

“But for another…what?”

“Just something about him, that’s all. He looks like trouble.”

“That’s what he’s been so far. He’s certainly not been too cooperative in session.”

“How’d he get in therapy?”

Maria gave him a brief case description, including the death of Ryan’s wife. She and Jackson consulted on so many of her cases they almost had a special language of their own to describe clients.

“I guess that explains everything,” Jackson said after she finished. His voice changed slightly. “You sound as if you’re worried. Don’t you think you can handle him?”

Not surprised by his perception, Maria started to answer then stopped. She was more worried about Ryan Lukas than she should have been. She spoke slowly. “I think he’s in a lot of pain but he’s made it clear he doesn’t want my help. I guess I just hate to see anyone suffer like that.”

“It’s nothing else?”

“Why do you ask?”

A slight silence built. Jackson finally broke it. “You aren’t thinking of mounting a rescue attempt, are you?” He chuckled then. “So to speak…”

It took her a minute to understand. “No, God…Jackson, it’s nothing like that. I’m not attracted to him, in any way.”

“He’s a handsome man.”

“He’s a client,” she protested at once. “And that’s all he is. And all he will be, I assure you.”

Jackson took a second too long to answer and she realized her mistake. She was being too defensive. Jackson might be retired but his clinical radar was still intact. He’d think she was covering something up. He started to come back at her, but she said goodbye and hung up quickly. She didn’t have the time to explain, she told herself later. Her evasiveness had nothing to do with Lieutenant Lukas being so attractive. Nothing at all.

RYAN SPENT the weekend doing household chores and trying to read the latest David Lindsey novel. By the time Monday rolled around he was actually glad to see it even though it meant another torturous day at the desk. Heading into the station that morning, he thought again about the kid he’d seen at the call-out last week. He hadn’t said anything to Lena and still didn’t intend to, yet something about the incident continued to bug him.

His mind was focused on a blue backpack and a black baseball cap when he rounded the corner to see Maria Worley in the corridor.

She was standing next to Lena and she had on a dark-gray suit with some kind of silky blouse beneath the jacket. Ryan knew little about women’s clothing, but the way it flattered her figure meant the outfit had to be expensive. Snuggled against one hip, she held a black leather notebook. As he watched the two women talk, Maria lifted her right hand and absentmindedly tucked a strand of her dark hair behind one ear. The movement was graceful and fluid, full of the kind of femininity he had once appreciated seeing in a woman. Once.

He wasn’t conscious of it, but he must have made some kind of noise. Both of them looked up. He met Maria’s eyes and ignored Lena. As she recognized him, the doctor’s gaze went from startled to wary.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” she said in a neutral voice. “How are you this morning?”

He ignored her question. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

Lena held up a warning hand. “Ryan, don’t start—”

Maria cut her off. “It’s all right, Lena. Let him talk.”

Her support, even as insignificant as it was, made Ryan angrier, although he would have been at a total loss if asked to explain why.

“Well?” he continued rudely before she could say more. “What are you doing here? Ruining someone else’s career or just bad-mouthing me?”

“Actually I came by to pick up my tickets for the rally this weekend. I also stopped to tell Lieutenant McKinney that you failed to make your appointment last week.” She looked at him coolly. “Which concerns me greatly.”

“These sessions are mandatory, Ryan.” Lena spoke sternly. “If you don’t intend to keep them, then we need to talk—”

“My appointment?” Ignoring Lena, he stared at Maria and drew a complete blank.

“I gave you a card the day you were in my office. It had the date and time of our next scheduled conference, which happened to be last Thursday but you never showed up.” She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “I’m assuming something important must have kept you?”

For one long second, all he did was stare at her. She had brown eyes, he saw now, and they were deep and dark. She would never believe him if he told her he had completely forgotten about the appointment, but he had. A glimmer of remorse, which he immediately ignored, shot through him.

“I was busy,” he said abruptly. “I couldn’t make it.”

“I charge for missed appointments.”

“So send me a bill.”

Lena sighed loudly. “The department will take care of it, Ryan, but in the future—”

He shot her a warning look. “I understand.”

“Good. I’ll expect to see proof of that shortly.” She turned without another word and disappeared into the office behind them. The door clicked firmly as she shut it. Too firmly. That wasn’t a good sign, but Ryan didn’t care.

Maria made no effort to move. He wondered what she was waiting for, then she spoke and he wished he’d made his escape when he’d had the chance.

“When can you come in?” Her voice was crisp as she opened her notebook. “I have the Thursday after the rally open again. Is that convenient?”

“No.” He had no intention of letting this woman probe his brain. “It’s not.”

“Then when?”

“I’ll let you know after I look at my schedule.” He started to walk off, then he felt a hand, light as a bird’s wing, brush his arm before dropping. Surprised, he turned back.

“Lieutenant Lukas…” Two lines had formed across her forehead. It gave her an air of concern he didn’t believe for a minute. “You’re facing an emotional crisis and you need help. Forgetting these appointments—”

“I didn’t forget it,” he said. “I was busy.”

Conceding the point even though both of them knew better, she nodded slowly. “Well, then not making time for these sessions is a symptom of how strong your denial really is. You can’t continue in this fashion.”

“I can do anything I damn well please.”

“Not and keep your job.”

“Are you threatening me?”

Her expression stayed calm and even in the midst of his anger, Ryan marveled that she could be so cool. He was doing everything he could to annoy her, but it wasn’t working. Her collected demeanor almost made him envious. He’d been that way once.

“I’m not threatening you at all,” she said quietly. Her expression shifted and this time he couldn’t deny the apparent genuineness of her attitude. Either she really cared, or she was the best damn actress this side of Hollywood.

“You’re a grown man and you can screw up your life any way you want to. But you need help and I can provide it. It’s what I do and I do it well.” She surprised him by smiling slightly. “Lieutenant Lukas, neither of us has a choice here. If you want to keep your job, you have to come talk to me. And if I want to keep mine, I need to listen. It’s really that simple.”

Just as quickly as it’d come, her smile disappeared. From the side pocket of her notebook she pulled out another card, carefully wrote something on it and handed it to him. “That’s an appointment for next week,” she said, businesslike. “I suggest you work your schedule around it, instead of the other way around.”

She turned and walked quickly down the hall—so quickly he could say nothing more. She was persistent, that was for sure.

He looked down at the card she’d given him. She’d printed out the date and time, her handwriting as neat and streamlined as she was, the letters extending above the printed line exactly where they were supposed to be.

Thursday. 3:00 p.m. On the side, she’d scribbled something else. He had to turn the card sideways to read the words.

No excuses.

RYAN TRIED to concentrate the rest of the day but Maria Worley’s image kept interrupting. He fought the dark hair and brown eyes each time they disrupted his train of thought. He didn’t want to think about her. For some crazy reason, it made him feel as if he were being unfaithful to Ginny. Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head and stared out into the parking lot. The sun was hot and strong, beating into the asphalt and sending shimmers of waves along the blackened surface. He followed their path until they disappeared in the distance.

But could she be right?

Was he heading for disaster?

He immediately dismissed the questions, telling himself he was letting Maria’s sympathetic manner and warm smile get to him. He was fine. He’d been at the range the day before and never missed once. The heart of his paper target had been shredded in seconds, the one-inch circle gone in a puff of smoke. Yet somehow Maria Worley, and her questions, wouldn’t leave him alone.

Everything else aside, he couldn’t deny the logic of her argument. Lena could keep him behind this damned desk until eternity if she wanted to…and she wouldn’t have any qualms about doing so, either. Despite how her obstinacy affected him, he had to admit it was one of the qualities about his boss he appreciated. She was a stand-up person who believed in right and wrong, no matter how tough the situation. He’d watched her face off with men twice her size and mean as hell. Every time, she’d won.

Something told him Maria Worley might be just as stubborn.

But they were both wrong, dammit! He was fine, and furthermore, he didn’t need to talk to anybody about what had happened. Ginny was gone, he was alone, and nothing he could do would bring her back. His throat tightened and burned. That was it. End of story.

With an angry, muttered curse, he turned to the file before him, his front chair legs hitting the floor with a screech. The report was on last week’s situation. The one he’d spied on.

Flipping past the paperwork that meant nothing but was always required, he found the on-site notes Lena had taken during the actual confrontation. He skimmed them quickly and saw that his immediate impression had been right on target.

Hearing shots and voices coming from inside the abandoned buildings, the security guard had phoned the local police department. The arriving officers had investigated as much as they could, then had requested support. They couldn’t penetrate the interior of the buildings without being seen. Lena had issued the call, her notes indicating she’d initially ordered a skeleton crew only. That told him a lot; she hadn’t been too concerned but had not wanted to blow it off, either.

He skipped over the minute-by-minute account and found the sheet on the perp. He was only fifteen, and the gun had been the air rifle that Ryan had thought it was. The case was headed for juvie court.

Then something else caught his eye.

Peter Douglas had gone into the building after it had been secured and cleared. Sweeping for evidence, he’d found nothing but half a dozen empty CO2 cartridges, five cigarette butts and two crushed beer cans. He also listed some “miscellaneous drawings,” at the end of the report. It had all been checked into evidence.

Ryan tapped his pencil on top of the desk and reread the last line. “Miscellaneous drawings.” What the hell did that mean? It was probably nothing, but the description bothered him and for no reason other than that, Ryan headed down the hall to the evidence room.

Ten minutes later, he had the box in his hand. Pushing aside the various plastic bags, he came to a larger one with several sheets of crumpled paper inside. He snapped on a pair of rubber gloves then opened it up, removing the sheets and smoothing them so he could get a better look.

They were covered with pencil sketches, the same image depicted over and over. It took him a minute to recognize the stylized birdlike shape and another five to puzzle out where he’d first seen the form. When he did recall, he whistled softly to himself, not understanding fully, but understanding enough.

The drawings were identical to one Maria Worley had framed and hung behind her desk.