“He's adorable.” The candy striper smiled as she headed for the door. “And amazingly well behaved once he saw the kids.”
“That's because he knows his job. Thanks for bringing him up here.”
“My pleasure.” She waved as she left the room.
“It probably wasn't a total pleasure.” Kerry smiled as she turned back to Carmela. “He's not the best-behaved dog on the planet.”
Carmela's gaze was fixed on Sam. “He's . . . beautiful. Why did you bring him here?”
“I thought you might want to meet him. And I knew he'd help the kids.” She unsnapped the leash. “Do you want to pet him? Just call his name.”
“Sam?”
Sam bounded across the room toward the bed and planted his forepaws on the mattress.
Kerry chuckled. “He doesn't take much urging.”
Carmela tentatively reached out and stroked his head. “He feels . . . silky.”
“Did you have a dog?”
She shook her head. “Mom said they were too much trouble.”
Sam rubbed his head on her hand and gave a soft woo-woo.
Carmela smiled. “He likes this.” She looked up at Kerry. “I've heard about arson dogs. Is Sam one?”
She nodded. “He's very famous.”
Carmela frowned in puzzlement. “But you told that nurse he knew his job when he was with the kids. That's not his job.”
“Sure it is. Actually, he's far more suited to help those kids than he is to fight fires.” That was certainly the truth. “Sam has one outstanding gift. He gives love and keeps on giving.”
“That doesn't seem to be much of a gift.”
“It's the greatest gift. Unconditional love? Not many creatures are capable of that kind of affection. He warms the heart and keeps loneliness away. Why, Sam's a blooming miracle.” She smiled ruefully. “He's a rambunctious rascal, but I've never seen him be anything but gentle with any of those kids. He seems to sense when he has to take care.”
“He doesn't seem—” She broke off as Sam licked her hand. “He . . . likes me.”
Kerry could almost see the wall around Carmela melting. Thank you, Sam. “Yes, he does. And as long as he senses you're not in top shape, he won't jump in bed and lick you to death.”
“I wouldn't mind.” She laid her cheek on Sam's head. “He's so soft.”
“Do you want me to bring him back with me?”
She didn't speak for a moment and then straightened. But her hand remained on Sam's head. “Maybe.”
“Will you let me come back? Do you believe what I told you about Trask?”
“It seems weird.”
“It's true.”
Carmela was silent again and then said, “I think I saw him once.”
She went still. “What?”
“That day of the fire. Some guy was following me.”
“What did he look like?”
“A little heavy, reddish hair. Was that him?”
Dickens.
“No, but he probably worked for him.”
“That kook has people working for him? What is he? Some kind of mobster?”
“Not exactly.”
“You're not going to tell me.” She shrugged. “I don't care. It doesn't matter, as long as you keep him away from me and Rosa.” She paused. “Are you really going to go get Rosa?”
“I wouldn't lie to you. My friend, Silver, is downstairs in the parking lot on the phone now trying to arrange a way to get her away from your mother.”
“Where are you going to put her? One of those DFACS houses?”
“No, we'll find a safe place for her. Don't worry.”
“What a stupid thing to say.” Carmela gave her a withering look even as she continued to stroke Sam. “Of course I'm going to worry. She's my sister. I have to take care of her.”
Kerry chuckled. “You're right. It was stupid. Worry all you please, but I won't, because I know she's going to be okay.” Her smile faded. “And so will you, Carmela. Things are going to work out for you. I promise.” She came toward the bed and put the leash on Sam. “Now I'll go and let you rest.”
“I don't do anything else in this place.” Her hand reluctantly left Sam after a final pat. “Did they tell you when they're going to let me leave here?”
“In a few days. You're still running a fever.” She started for the door. “Has your mother contacted you yet?”
“She called me last night.” She defiantly lifted her chin. “It's just like I told you, she couldn't get off work. It's not as if she doesn't care about me. She just has . . . problems.”
“Well, maybe we can rid her of a few of those problems.” Kerry opened the door. “I'll come and see you tomorrow, Carmela.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“I know I don't.” She smiled. “But I know you'll want to hear what progress we're having with your sister.”
“You're really gonna help her?”
“I lied to you once. I won't do it again.”
“I hope you don't.” Her hands clenched on the sheet. “I won't take charity. It sticks in my throat. But if you'll do this for me, I'll owe you big time. And I'll pay you back. I promise.”
She could see that the girl was deadly serious, and Kerry wouldn't insult her by refusing. “I'll take you up on that. See you tomorrow, Carmela.”
“Wait.” When Kerry looked back at her, Carmela said awkwardly, “I wouldn't mind if you brought that pooch back. He's probably good for those sick kids.”
“You're right.” She nodded solemnly. “Okay, if you really don't mind.
“Good job, Sam,” she murmured as she left the room.
His tail wagged as he pulled Kerry down the hall, all gentleness and decorum forgotten. Kerry didn't care. He'd given Carmela affection and softened her pain in a way she could accept.
Poor kid, Kerry thought as she waited at the elevator. Life had not treated her well, and she had all the prickly barriers to prove it. But it was a wonder she wasn't even more defensive and that she'd somehow managed to develop a code.
Silver was waiting in the lobby when she got off the elevator. “How is she?”
“Smart, vulnerable, wary. Sam helped a lot.”
“I was wondering why you wanted to take him.”
“Sam's great with kids. She needed him. But she found out that we're not social workers.”
“Busted. What did you tell her?”
“The truth. I decided she could take it.” She started down the corridor toward the parking lot. “I like her, Silver. She's tough, but I think she . . . Oh, I don't know. She reminds me of someone. . . .” She frowned, trying to think who it was, but it didn't come to her. “I like her.”
“Well, that's clear.” He fell into step with her. “I'll have to take your word for it. I'm still too bruised and exasperated from trying to get her to jump off that roof to be objective.”
“She was scared.”
“And you're being defensive.”
“Someone has to defend her. She's not had much help from her mother.” She glanced at him. “And speaking of her mother, did you make any progress?”
He nodded. “I contacted Travis and told him to have some strings pulled with DFACS in Louisville. He's going to send a caseworker to put some subtle pressure on Carmela's mother to release Rosa into their care.”
“How subtle?”
“Maybe not all that subtle. A velvet-gloved threat that I hope will scare her into cooperating.”
“And after DFACS takes Rosa away from her mother?”
“Then we'll make sure there's a grade-A foster home ready to receive her until Carmela is out of the hospital.”
“When will we know?”
He shrugged. “Tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I told Travis it was urgent.”
“Good. I want something encouraging to tell Carmela tomorrow.” She motioned for Sam to jump in the back of the SUV before getting in herself. “It wasn't pleasant telling her about Trask, but she took it well.”
“Like you said, tough.”
“And prickly as the devil. She wanted to—” Kerry suddenly started to laugh. “Lord, I just figured out who she reminded me of.”
“Who?”
“You.”
He glanced at her as he started the car. “I beg your pardon?”
“Prickly and surly and not letting anyone near.”
He smiled faintly. “I'll accept the description since you said you couldn't help but like her. But you should really examine that response. You obviously have a weakness for difficult people like us.”
Her smile faded. She didn't want to examine the warmth she felt for Silver. That softness was even more dangerous than the sexual pleasure she experienced with him. She glanced hurriedly out the window. “Do you think we were followed?”
“If we were, then it was definitely done by an expert.” He stopped at the parking-lot booth and handed the clerk the ticket and money. “And I contacted Ledbruk, and his agent didn't think we were being watched.”
She frowned. “Then was I wrong? I thought it was a reasonable assumption that—”
“It was reasonable. Maybe Trask just hasn't gotten his shit together yet. There's still a good chance that Dickens will show.”
He was probably right. What did she expect? It wasn't likely they'd be able to grab Dickens the first day. But telling herself that didn't stop the uneasiness she felt. Trask wouldn't be spinning his wheels after he learned he'd falled to kill Carmela. He'd want to make a move to show Kerry that she hadn't really won anything of importance.
And if that move didn't involve having her followed by Dickens, what other action was he planning?
“Stop fretting,” Silver said. “I learned a long time ago that if you can't do anything about a problem, it's better to relax and gather strength for the moment when you can.”
“It must be nice to be so patronizing. I'm not some psychic superman like you. I'm not good at this and I don't have your experience. I can't relax.”
He gave a low whistle at the sharpness of her tone. “Sorry. I didn't mean to sound patronizing. And you're getting better and stronger all the time. You can block me, and that last time I felt a definite nudge when you made the attempt at a push.”
“Nudge? That's not going to do me any good when I come up against Trask.”
“I told you that I couldn't gauge how strong that push would translate with someone else.”
“That gives me a hell of a lot of confidence.”
“Easy. I can't furnish you with confidence, but you know I'll keep on working with you until you—”
“I know. I know.” Her lips tightened. “Christ, I'm sick of it all. I never wanted to have to learn anything like this. After we get Trask, I'm going to take Sam and go back to doing what I do well. I'm going to block these weeks out of my mind and never think of them again.”
He didn't speak for a moment. “Or me?”
“What do you want me to say? One goes with the other. Don't tell me you won't be glad to be rid of me too.”
“I wouldn't think of telling you that.” He looked away from her. “I'm just saying it may be hard to do.”
She knew he was right, but there was no way she would admit it. Difficult or not, she was going to break this link between them. She leaned her head back on the seat rest and closed her eyes. “You're wrong. After what I've gone through, it will be a piece of cake.”
“Nothing like being sure.” His face was expressionless. “We'll see . . .”
I may have found a lead to our mysterious Helen,” George said when they came in the front door. “I talked to a few of my friends at the FBI, and they wouldn't tell me anything but they pointed discreetly.”
“Where?” Silver asked.
“At the CIA.” He smiled. “So I'm trying to tap a few sources there.”
“Good God, you have as many contacts as a Fox News reporter,” Kerry said. “I'm not even going to ask how you got them. When will you know?”
“Soon. Possibly tonight or tomorrow. I believe I've found someone who might have information.”
“Let me know as soon as you hear.” She started up the stairs. “I could use some good news.”
Yes, she could, Silver thought, as he watched her reach the top of the steps. She was scared and worried and wanted only to bury her head beneath the proverbial covers and hide away from everyone.
Hide away from him, dammit.
You're gritting your teeth,” George said. “May I tell you that your dentist would advise you that could seriously contribute to TMJ?”
“No, you may not.” Silver turned on his heel. “Shut up, George.”
George gave a low whistle. “Nasty.” He headed for the library. “Where will you be if I get a sudden breakthrough on Helen?”
“I'm going for a walk.” He jerked open the front door. “A long, long walk.”
“Excellent idea. Exercise is always a good release. Perhaps you'll come back in better temp—”
The door slammed behind Silver before George could finish.
Fire.
She had to get help for Mama.
She slipped on the icy steps and fell to the street.
There was a man across the street, standing beneath the street lamp.
She picked herself up and ran toward him. “Help. The fire. Mama . . .”
He was turning and walking away. He must not have heard her.
She ran after him. “Please. Mama said I had to—” He turned and she looked up into his face.
She screamed.
“Shh, it's too late. You can't help her.” He raised his arm and she saw metal glittering in his hand as he started to bring the gun down—
Darkness. Yes, darkness . . .
“Stop it!” She was yanked out of that welcoming darkness, back to the horror of that night. “You don't get away with that, Kerry. You're not going to black out now. Look at him, dammit.”
Silver!
It was Silver talking, she realized in confusion. Silver beside her, standing beneath the lamppost.
But it couldn't be Silver. He didn't belong here.
But he was here, and the entire nightmare sequence was frozen. The burning building, the lamppost, the man with his hand raised to strike her down.
“Look at him,” Silver repeated. “Look at his face.”
Panic soared through her. “No, I can't see. It's too dark.”
“Look at him.”
“Shut up. Get out of here.”
“The hell I will. I'm staying until you stop being a martyr and look at that bastard.”
“I won't do it.” She closed her eyes tightly. “Go away.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“He's going to hurt me.”
“That's not why you're afraid. Tell me.”
“Go away.”
“Look at him.”
She found herself opening her eyes and looking up at that shadowy face above her. “No! I won't do it. I won't.” She frantically pulled away and shut her eyes again. “Go away. Let me alone.”
“Dammit, stop pushing me away. I'm trying to—”
“No!”
She woke to see Silver bending over her. “Damn you.” She shoved him away and sat up in bed. “What the devil did you think you were doing?”
“I don't have to think, I know I was scaring the bejesus out of you.” He swung his feet to the floor and got to his feet. “Come on, let's get you in the shower. You've broken out in a cold sweat.”
Yes, she had, and she was shaking so badly that she could barely talk. “And you had nothing to do with it, I suppose. Those nightmares are bad enough without you sticking in your two cents worth.”
“Then get rid of them.” He pulled her out of bed and wrapped her in a sheet. “Shower. You can spit at me later.”
“I want to spit at you now.” But she let him lead her toward the bathroom. She was in no shape to fight a battle right now. “You had no right to—”
“Hush.” He p
ushed her under the warm spray of the shower and then got in with her. “You're absolutely correct. I intruded, I violated your privacy, I even broke my own code.” He grimaced as he handed her the sponge. “Such as it is. I constantly seem to be bending the rules.”
“You shouldn't have done—” She stopped as he began kneading her neck. God, that felt good. The tension was flowing out of her. “I'm not going to forgive you. How can I trust—”
“Shh, think about it later.”
Yes, think about it later. The heat of the water was banishing the chill, and his touch was soothing away her tension. She closed her eyes and let herself drift.
“Good.” Minutes passed and then he was bundling her out of the shower and toweling her off. “Now let's get you back to bed and I'll let you vent.”
She didn't want to vent, she realized. Any attack she made would lead to a confrontation, and she was afraid Silver would—
“You bet I will.” He wrapped her in a blanket and tucked her in bed before crawling in beside her. “But you've been through enough tonight. I'll let you off.”
“Don't expect me to thank you. And are you still spying on me? Get the hell out.”
“I got out. But you know I can't keep from picking up on an odd thought or two when you scream it at me.” His arms enfolded her and he cuddled close, spoon fashion. “Go to sleep. You're done with dreaming for tonight.” He brushed her temple with his lips. “If you wander too close, I'll jerk you back.”
“Or jump in where you don't belong.”
“I belong.”
“The hell you do.” She was silent a moment before she asked, “Why did you do it, Silver?”
“You were in pain. I couldn't stand it.”
“It was my pain, my memories. My right to handle them.”
“You're not handling them. You're hiding, and as long as you do that, they're going to torment you.”
“So you tried to force me to come out of hiding?”
“You'd know it if I used force. I was just nudging a little.”
“You kept telling me to look at his face. That was stupid. It was too dark for me to see anything.”
“Was it? He was under the streetlight.”
“Not when he turned on me. I ran after him. He was in the shadow.”
Firestorm Page 21
