by Kate Sweeney
“Luckily, the doctor has left. Who else is around?” Annabel asked.
“Well, it’s nearly break time for everyone, which will be helpful. That’s in a few minutes.”
“Okay, maybe we can wait for that,” Annabel said. She sat down and let out a sigh of relief and caught Michael watching her. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m a little weak. I haven’t been out of this bed much.”
“Well, we were looking for a wheelchair to get you out of here,” Annabel said.
“They keep them right around the corner by the ambulance entrance.”
“Perfect.” She looked at Trevor. “Can you go get one and bring it here?”
“Of course.”
“Without being seen or talking, Trevor,” Annabel reminded him. He glared as he walked out.
“So why are ya doing this, Annabel, is it?” Michael asked. He lay back down and let out a tired sigh.
“Because your sister needs help and is too proud to ask for it.”
“That sounds like Maureen.” He turned his head toward Annabel. “Is she all right?”
“Well, when I met her, she was bleeding…”
He shot up then. Annabel quickly went to him and eased him back. “Lie still. I don’t want to have to pick you up. She’s fine now. She hasn’t said much about what’s going on. Only that you’re in trouble with someone you pissed off.”
Michael winced and avoided looking at Annabel. “That’s putting it lightly. I’ve been a prize fool. And I’ve put my sister in a horrible spot.” He looked at her then. “But I think we can help her and finish this mess I got us into.”
Annabel patted his shoulder. “I hope so.”
“Can ya get me my shirt, please? It’s on the chair.”
Annabel got the pajama top and handed it to him as he slowly sat up. He needed a little more help than Annabel realized. He was sweating and breathing heavily from the effort.
“I guess a wheelchair is a grand idea,” he said, breathing deeply.
“And where is Trevor?” Annabel started to panic. It shouldn’t take this long.
With that, the door opened and a young woman walked in. “Good morning, Michael. How…?” She stopped short when she saw Annabel. “Hello.”
She was obviously a nurse. Annabel saw the suspicion flash across her pretty face. Her big blue gaze darted from Michael to Annabel. She held her clipboard to her chest with a stethoscope draped around her neck.
“Deirdre,” Michael said nervously. “This is your day off. What are…um…what are you doing here?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. Another nurse called in sick. I’ve been here since six a.m. I just came in to tell you. I haven’t had a chance to see you today. I’m going home in a little while.” She looked at Annabel. “I’m Michael’s nurse.” She extended her hand.
Oh, boy, Annabel thought. She took the hand. “I’m Dr. Mitchell. Michael’s sister wanted us to have a chat with him.”
Deirdre put on her glasses and looked at the chart. “Really? I wasn’t told.”
“Oh, it’s all there. We just checked in with Dr. Brady.”
Deirdre nodded. “Yes. It is here.” She looked up. “Where is Dr. Kittredge?”
Good question, Annabel thought. And, of course, as luck would have it, Trevor came barging through the door, ramming the wheelchair into the doorjamb with a painful grunt.
“I found them. Text Maureen, have her drive the getaway car around back. We can get Michael out that way…”
Michael rubbed his forehead and for some reason started chuckling. Annabel just stared at Trevor, who pushed the wheelchair into the room. “Good Lord, this thing has a mind of its own.” He stopped short when he saw Deirdre. “Oh, dear.”
Deirdre walked past Trevor and closed the door. Annabel watched nervously; she waited for the alarm to start and security to come and haul them all away.
“You’re Dr. Kittredge, I presume?” she asked, glancing at all three.
“No. Livingstone.” Trevor laughed nervously, then sobered. “Yes. Yes, I am. Now who are you?”
“She’s my nurse,” Michael called out.
“And a very pretty one, I must say.”
Annabel felt a headache as she slumped back into the chair.
“What’s with the wheelchair? Going someplace?” Deirdre asked.
Trevor blinked several times. “Uh...”
“We thought we’d take Michael for a walk,” Annabel said.
“It’s very therapeutic, you know,” Trevor chimed in.
“Yes, I know. Out the back way?” She looked at Trevor.
“Um…”
“Deirdre, come here, please,” Michael said.
Deirdre slowly walked over to him. He took her hand in his, which Annabel thought was odd behavior for a nurse and patient. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t explain much to you, Dee.”
Okay, Annabel thought, there is more going on between these two. Fine, we’ll never get him out of here.
“Your sister explained a little but not much. But I’m not stupid. I know something’s wrong.”
Annabel watched the realization flash across Deirdre’s face.
“You’re in danger?” she asked.
“I hope not. That’s why I need to get out of here.”
“Then have your sister check you out. You don’t have to stay, though you should…”
“Someone was calling here asking about me. Whoever it was lied and said he was my uncle.”
“I know, Maureen told me. So you’re hiding from someone, is that it?”
“The less ya know, the better.”
“Deirdre,” Annabel said. “He’s no longer safe here. Maureen wants to get him out of here and in a safer environment.”
“What’s safer than a hospital? We have security.”
“There’s too much to explain. But I need to go, and ya need to let me,” he said softly.
Deirdre shook her head. “Not without me.”
Annabel and Trevor let out a collective groan. Michael’s demeanor changed; he was now frowning and turned very serious.
“Don’t do this. The less you know, the better. So just walk out and give us ten minutes.”
“And who will take care of you?” She shook her head. “No. I go with you or no one leaves this room.” She folded her arms across her chest in what was an unmistakable gesture of defiance.
Trevor grinned and sat in the wheelchair. “I think we have a standoff. I may as well get comfy.” He wheeled back and forth in the chair. “She’s a fine feisty Irish wench, me boy.”
“Shut up, Trevor,” Annabel said. “Though he has a point, Michael.”
“Maureen will have a cow.”
“She’ll get over it.” Deirdre took the robe from the bedside. “Get into this. Bring that wheelchair over here and have Maureen pull into the back by the ambulance entrance. We’ll meet her outside.” She looked at the stunned faces. “Well, hurry up then.”
Annabel and Trevor bumped into each other as Annabel struggled for her phone. She sent a quick text to Maureen to pull around, while Michael sat in the wheelchair.
Deirdre maneuvered the chair and pushed. “If we come up to anyone, I’ll do the talking. We’ll take the wheelchair in case we need it.” This was addressed primarily to Trevor.
“I’ll go ahead and make sure Maureen is there. I’ll meet you outside,” Annabel said.
“Tell Maureen the button for the trunk is on the left side dash,” Trevor said. “Just have her pop it.”
Annabel nodded and dashed out of the room. She soon realized she had no clue where she was going, so she just went opposite of where they came in. Surprisingly, the back sliding doors were not too far away, just a turn and down the long hall. God, she thought, please don’t let anyone see us. She looked out to see the car parked in front of the entrance in perfect position to just wheel Michael out and into the car.
She slid into the passenger side next to a stunned Maureen.
“Where’s Michael? Your text was rather vague.”
“I was in a hurry. I need you to keep an open mind.” She glanced back at the sliding doors.
“An open mind? Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing bad,” Annabel said. “Per se.”
“Per se?” Maureen’s voice squeaked. She reached for the door handle.
Annabel quickly stopped her. “Everything is fine, Maureen. Trust me. They’ll be out in a minute.”
“I take it ya got in all right with no hitches?”
“No, no hitches.”
“Per se,” Maureen said sarcastically.
Annabel turned back to her and tried not to laugh. “It’s okay. Just hope no one stops them.”
“You left Trevor alone with Michael?”
“Um…”
“Um? What um, Annie. What’s happened?”
“Nothing. His… Oh, here they are. Open the trunk. The button is on the left dash.”
Maureen looked and quickly pressed the button releasing the trunk. Annabel watched as Deirdre wheeled Michael in what could only be described as a controlled panic. She heard Maureen curse under her breath when she too saw Deirdre, and she didn’t have time to calm Maureen’s anger.
Trevor walked briskly by them, opened the passenger door, and assisted Michael into the backseat. “Hi, sis.”
“Hi. What’s she doing, Michael?” She watched in the rearview mirror as Trevor deposited the wheelchair in the trunk.
“It seems as hard as we try and push them away, we’re both blessed with women who care about us, Maureen.”
Maureen frowned and glanced at Annabel, who winked at Michael.
With the slam of the trunk, they were off. Maureen pulled out of the hospital and drove opposite of Trevor’s house.
“What are you doing?” Trevor asked.
“Just making sure we’re not followed,” Maureen said, looking in the rearview mirror. “I don’t suppose I can drop ya off anywhere?”
Deirdre set her jaw. “Anywhere Mick is going is fine.”
Maureen shook her head and mumbled something under her breath; she shifted gears and headed back. Annabel reached over and covered her hand. Maureen looked down at their hands, then shook her head. “What a group we are.”
“But we’re together,” Annabel said softly.
Maureen looked at her and nodded.
“And if you don’t watch the road, we’ll never get to discuss your declaration of love.”
“I was hopin’ you’d have forgotten that,” Maureen said, shifting gears again.
“Not on your life, Miss Costello.”
Chapter 14
They got Michael settled in one of Trevor’s many rooms. He was close, right across the hall. Deirdre took the room next to his, with a connecting door. She had called the hospital requesting a couple of days leave, which they gave her, much to Maureen’s irritation. To her, Annabel thought, it was another person to take care of and keep out of danger.
Trevor was in the kitchen, his comfort zone. After Annabel scolded him for flirting with Michael, he pouted and was now making soup. He reminded Annabel of her grandmother.
Maureen broke her from her thoughts when she walked into the living room. Annabel had just started a nice fire to stave off the damp, dreariness of the day. She dusted off her hands and stood. “How’s Michael?”
“Deirdre is taking care of him now. He’ll be asleep for a while. What is that heavenly smell?”
“Trevor is pouting. I told him to stop ogling Michael’s abs. He’s making soup.” She watched as Maureen checked her watch. “Somewhere you have to be?”
“I was thinking of something. I was just talking to Mick, and he remembered where Matt Nolan lived. I thought I might go see his father.”
“I’m assuming he has something to do with all this?”
“Yes. It’s early. I can be back by early evening if I get started.”
“And you’ll want to go alone?”
Maureen sat on the arm of the couch, staring at the fire. “Annie, I’d like nothing else in this world but to stay right here with you.”
Annabel stood between her legs; she ran her fingers through Maureen’s red, wavy hair. “That sounds like heaven to me, too. So the sooner we go, the sooner we can get back and enjoy this fire and Trevor’s soup.” She kissed her deeply then, her tongue lazily sliding across Maureen’s lips. She was beginning to adore the slight whimper she received whenever she kissed Maureen this way. She pulled back and chuckled as Maureen tried to focus. “Grab your coat, Miss Costello.”
“I’ll never win with you.”
*******
They drove for nearly an hour until Maureen pulled down a narrow road. She stopped at a house set in the middle of nowhere situated at the foot of a sloping hill filled with sheep. “Is he a farmer?”
“Dunno. Though most rent their land to the sheep farmers to graze.” Maureen glanced quickly at Annabel. “Ya might want to stay here. I don’t think I’ll be very welcomed.”
Annabel bit at her bottom lip. “Then I’d rather come with you.”
Maureen thought for a moment and nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”
They walked up the cobblestone walk to the front door. Maureen hesitated, then knocked gently at the door. As they waited, she gave her surroundings a wary look.
A white-haired, tall, thin man answered the door. “Yes?”
“Mr. Nolan, can I talk to ya for a moment? It’s about your son,” Maureen said in a soft steady voice.
The man narrowed his eyes at her and stepped back. Both women cautiously walked in and stood in the small foyer.
“Ya look familiar. What about my son?” he asked with a curious look.
Maureen ran her fingers through her hair. Annabel noticed them shake slightly. “Mr. Nolan, my name is Maureen Costello. My—”
That was all she got out. The older man growled in anger, grabbed Maureen by the lapels of her jacket, and rammed her against the wall. Annabel let out a small shriek, and Maureen quickly put up her hand to stop her.
“Costello… Your bastard of a brother killed my son!” He shook Maureen, who did nothing to stop this irate father.
Annabel was shocked. She’d seen Maureen handle those two men in the alley. Surely, she could handle this wiry old man.
“Where is Mick Costello? I hope he’s dead!” he spat out, his face inches from Maureen.
She gave him a sad nod. “Ya might get your wish, sir,” she said in a choking voice. Mr. Nolan savagely shook her.
Annabel reached up and held his arm. “You’re choking her!” she insisted as she pulled at the man, who ignored her completely. Maureen shook her head at Annabel.
“What in the hell are ya after?” he snarled angrily, not letting her go.
“I’m after gettin’ Tommy Doyle,” she said in a coarse low voice.
For an instant, Mr. Nolan relented as he searched her face. Annabel wondered how far reaching Doyle was. The mention of his name brought such an abrupt change in his demeanor.
“Why should I believe ya?” he asked seriously. “You and your brother, Mick, got my Matt involved with his shit and you… You go off to Paris and sell that poison for Tommy Doyle,” he accused viciously.
Annabel’s eyes flew open at the accusation, and she shot an incredulous look at Maureen, who avoided her completely. By the shamed looked on her face, Annabel knew it was true. She wondered now how deeply Maureen was involved. This was a new realization for her.
“You tell me, why the hell I should believe ya?” he asked again. “Why should I believe any Costello?”
Maureen smiled sadly. “There’s no reason ya should, sir. No reason in the world,” she whispered. Mr. Nolan let her go completely. Maureen quickly coughed and rubbed her neck.
Annabel gave him a hateful look as she examined Maureen’s red neck.
“You almost killed her. What in the hell is the matter with you?”
Maureen gently patted her hand and nodded. Annabel s
till glared at the old man but acquiesced and said nothing further. Her mind was reeling anyway.
“How in God’s name will ya get that bastard?” he asked as he took a step back.
Maureen stood tall and straightened her jacket. “Mr. Nolan, Matt had a journal. Mick told me about it before…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Tommy Doyle knew he was trying to get out of it after what happened to Matt. Doyle slipped something in the shit he was taking and…”
The old man hissed angrily and ran his fingers through his hair. Mr. Nolan gave Maureen a disturbed glance but said nothing.
Annabel watched the exchange between these two, realizing what they had in common: two young men—one dead, the other nearly poisoned.
“Mr. Nolan, if ya know anything about it, please, I need that journal. Apparently, Matt wrote down everything. Names, dates, and places…” Maureen said with quiet urgency. “Please, sir.”
Annabel said nothing as she watched, her mind trying to keep up with the turn of events. Was that what Maureen was doing in Paris? Her wound—was that truly a knife wound? She looked at Maureen, who looked tired and beaten. Well, Annabel, you wanted an adventure… Mr. Nolan’s voice broke Annabel from her thoughts.
“My Matt knew a lad in Wicklow. He, well, you know how he was,” he said and looked at the floor. Maureen nodded but said nothing. “I hated it, Costello. I hate what he did with that young man. God help me, but I hated him for it as I hate you for encouraging him,” he said in a deflated voice and leaned back against the wall.
Maureen’s look was so sad that it nearly broke Annabel’s heart. “Mr. Nolan, Matt was gay. He couldn’t be anything else. Ya loved him,” she said in a quiet voice.
Annabel didn’t know what to think. Maureen avoided her scrutiny completely, treating her as if she wasn’t there. Maureen probably wished that very thing.
“I suppose I just need someone to blame. I need some reason why. Why this all had to happen,” he said in a detached voice as he looked beyond both women at nothing in particular.
