Читать книгу Final Deposit - Lisa Harris, Lisa Harris - Страница 11

Kyle watched as Lindsey grabbed for her purse, her hands shaking as she stumbled to her feet. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”

“Whoa. Slow down.” He jumped up from the couch. “You’re not going out anywhere by yourself.”

“I’ll be all right.” She slung her purse across her shoulder. The rosy blush she’d had all evening had completely disappeared from her face. “Apparently he fell and hit his head.”

“You’re in no condition to drive.” He slid his laptop into his black leather briefcase before snatching up his tuxedo jacket. “I can drive you to the hospital and then take a taxi back to my hotel once I know everything’s okay.”

She stared at his shirt, tears suddenly glistening on her eyelashes. “Are you sure?”

He stopped himself from reaching out to touch her cheek. “Trust me. Even if they’re still here, which I doubt, Sarah and Brad won’t miss either of us.”

“You have a point.” She cocked her head. “What about your shirt?”

He glanced down at the chocolate smear, then pointed to the shoes she’d just picked up off the floor. “I’d say neither of us will win a prize in the best-dressed category.”

Her faint smile brought a tinge of color back to her cheeks. “I’ll go grab another pair from Sarah’s bedroom.”

“Good. I’ll let someone know where we’re going. I’ll meet you back down here in a couple minutes.”

The relief that washed over her face made him glad he’d been with her when the call came in. It also made him realize how much he’d missed her. And how much he didn’t want their time together to end.

He glanced at his watch. Nine forty-five. The hour time change from D.C. would make the late night even later for him, but he could grab a couple hours of extra sleep in the morning. All that mattered right now was getting Lindsey to her father.

Five minutes later, they were speeding down the freeway toward the hospital. Lindsey sat beside him, her fingers nervously toying with the strap of her purse. “I appreciate you doing this for me. You were right. I don’t think I could have driven.”

“It’s not a problem. It gives me a chance to see a bit of the city.”

Lindsey’s soft laugh filled the car. It was a laugh he’d like to hear more of. “I can think of prettier cities at night, but you’re a sport.”

He switched to the fast lane, thankful traffic was light for a Friday night. “Tell me what happened with your mother.”

Her heavy sigh caused him to wonder if he’d brought up the wrong topic. Upsetting her further was the last thing he wanted to do. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business—”

“No, no, it’s fine. My mother’s cancer went into remission for several years, and then came back pretty aggressively. She died four years ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Lindsey.”

“I still miss her a lot, but I’ve come to accept that she’s in a better place.”

“And your father? I always liked him. How is he?”

Her gaze drifted out the window. “For the most part, he was coping pretty well, until about eight or nine months ago.”

“What happened then?”

“He was diagnosed with prostate cancer. His prognosis is good, but I’m worried about him.” The lights of a passing semi caught her grave expression. “He’s become detached. And he’s concerned about money even though he has a sizable retirement fund.”

“Does he go out much?”

She shook her head. “Not anymore. He used to be involved with church and the local Rotary Club, but I think his friends have pretty much given up on him.”

Kyle let up on the accelerator and changed lanes again to allow a speeding car to pass him. “How does he spend his time?”

“On the Internet. And watching television.” She motioned for him to take the next exit. “I invite him to go places with me as often as I can, but most of the time he comes up with an excuse to not go. He wouldn’t even come to Sarah’s wedding.”

Kyle flipped on his turn signal and eased onto the exit ramp. The red glow of the emergency entrance announced the hospital ahead. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as memories of his last visit to the E.R. flashed before him.

“What about your family?” she asked.

“My parents retired to Florida and love it. My sister actually lives here in Dallas with her husband and twin daughters. I’m planning to have dinner with them tomorrow night. I don’t see them near as often as I’d like.”

“Sarah told me that your brother, Michael…” Her voice trailed off, as if she didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Kyle swallowed. “He died about six years ago.”

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” she said, her voice full with sympathy.

“It was a shock to all of us.” He pulled up at the emergency entrance, glad to have a reason to change the subject. “I’ll park the car and meet you at the patient-information desk, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He met her ten minutes later and told her where he’d parked. “Any word on your father’s condition?”

She slipped the ticket into her purse. “I saw him briefly. They’ve admitted him for observation, which is standard for a head injury. Plus, his blood pressure’s elevated as well as his heart rate. But hopefully he’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”

Kyle shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Do you want me to stay with you for a while?”

She shook her head. “You’ve done so much already, Kyle, and you’ve got to be exhausted. I’ll be fine. Really.”

He wondered if she regretted not being able to prolong the evening as much as he did. “I enjoyed tonight. Even the chocolate frosting.”

“Me, too. It’s been too long.” She pushed the elevator button.

“Yeah, it has. I guess this is goodbye, then. It was great to see you again, Lindsey.”

“You, too, Kyle.”

“If ever you’re in the D.C. area, look me up.”

“I will.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. He considered asking her out for dinner, but something stopped him. She had her own life to live in Dallas, while he had his in D.C. Another evening spent together wouldn’t change that. It was time to put the past behind him.

The elevator dinged and a group of nurses stepped out. Clearing his throat, he dug into his wallet, pulled out a business card and handed it to her before the elevator door closed. “I’ll be in the area a few more days on business. If you need something…anything…just call me.”

Lindsey took in a deep, calming breath and tried not to lose her temper. What she needed was a way to knock some sense into her father. From the moment she’d arrived in his hospital room, all he’d done was insist she go check on his cat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help—not at all. But it was late and the last thing she was worried about was Sammy, his Siamese feline. She glanced down at her father’s groggy visage and swallowed her frustration. She might as well indulge him. It was the least she could do.

She leaned over and pushed back a strand of curly gray hair from his forehead. He’d aged the past few months, and it had her worried. Something had to be done.

He squeezed her hand. “So you’ll go?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Daddy, I’ll go. Can’t have you worrying about Sammy, now, can we?”

He knew she’d do anything for him. He was all the family she had, and despite the fact that he drove her crazy, she loved him fiercely.

Fifteen minutes later, Lindsey parked alongside the curb of her father’s ranch-style, brick home and shut off the engine. The neighborhood was relatively safe, but she still didn’t like being here alone at night. She stepped out of the car, locked the doors and set the alarm.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

I know you’re here, Lord. I just need an extra measure of your peace tonight.

She crossed to the mailbox and slipped in the key she carried in her purse. These days, her father didn’t even bother bringing in the mail and the box was always full. Pulling out a stack of envelopes, she tried to get a grip on her emotions. Her tattered nerves were ridiculous. It had simply been an emotional, draining day, between Sarah’s wedding and her father’s emergency trip to the hospital.

And Kyle.

She managed a smile. No. Seeing Kyle again after all these years had been the highlight of her day. Maybe even of her week.

A shadow lengthened against the walkway as she turned toward the house. She froze at the curb. Something rustled in the bushes that lined the front of her dad’s house.

Suddenly, a cat darted out of the bushes. She jumped back, smacking her arm against the side of the mailbox. The cat ran across the yard and out of sight.

Her heart pounded. She clutched the mail to her chest and hurried to the house. Cat or no cat, she’d had enough surprises for one day.

Lindsey opened the front door, turned off the alarm, then locked the door behind her as she called for Sammy. It bothered her that her father seemed more worried about Sammy than the fact that he had just been admitted into the hospital. Or the fact that his only daughter was tromping around late at night to check on an animal that was more than likely sound asleep at the foot of his bed.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she walked past the ten-gallon fish tank and dropped the pile of mail onto her father’s orderly rolltop desk that sat in the corner of the living room. The top envelope caught her eye. She picked up the letter.

Regional Recovery Agency. A collection agency?

Her eyes narrowed. Why in the world was her father receiving mail from a collection agency? She opened the top-right drawer of his desk where she knew he kept his mail. There was a stack of opened notices all from the same company. She shook her head. There had to be a mistake. Her father had a perfect credit record. Or so she’d always assumed. He hated debt and had always worked to ensure she felt the same way.

She went to the open-planned kitchen, separated from the living room by a bar, and poured herself a glass of water. In the morning, all this would make sense. Her father would be released and he’d explain.

Except how could he explain a pile of letters from bill collectors? She set her glass down on the counter with a thud.

Identity theft?

The thought knocked the wind out of her. Was it possible? She went back to his desk and sat down. All the time he spent online didn’t ensure that he was knowledgeable about keeping passwords and credit-card numbers safe. There were so many predators out there these days that even regular mail wasn’t safe anymore.

Lindsey began flipping through the letters one by one. Bill collectors meant that the problem was substantial and couldn’t be solved overnight. She could call Kyle tomorrow. He would definitely know a thing or two about identity theft.

She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced around the room. Everything looked exactly the way it had when she’d dropped by three days ago with a dish of homemade lasagna and a loaf of garlic bread. The TV Guide and crossword puzzle lay on the armrest of her father’s recliner; the stack of CDs were neatly piled beside his stereo. Coffee-table books, her mother’s afghan and his worn slippers all lay in their rightful places. Even the fish tank, with its colorful African cichlids, still looked crystal clear.

Everything would be fine tomorrow, she told herself. They’d work through this just as they had worked through his diagnosis with prostate cancer. The doctors had given him an eighty-five-percent chance of a complete recovery. Surely the odds of solving this were even higher. She started toward the hallway to search for Sammy and then stopped short on the beige shag carpet. She stared at the glass curio cabinet against the wall, which had been a gift from her father to her mother on their thirtieth wedding anniversary.

The curio cabinet was empty. Every single one of her mother’s expensive porcelain figurines was gone. All of them. Lindsey opened the cabinet door and ran her finger across the dusty shelf. It couldn’t be. Her father would never sell the collection her mother had worked on for over four decades.

Would he?