Deadly Gift

by Heather Graham

  “Amnesia?” Zach offered.

  “Yeah, amnesia. It’s possible.”

  “Sean, I’ve checked all the area hospitals. No one has admitted anyone who fits Eddie’s description.”

  “And you’ve checked the morgues, too, right?” Sean asked hesitantly.

  “Yes.”

  “And no Eddie, right?” Sean asked.

  “No,” Zach agreed.

  “Maybe someone kidnapped him,” Sean suggested.

  “Yeah, sure. Maybe,” Zach said. He sounded unconvinced. “So where’s Amanda?”

  “At the hotel. She was feeling all wrung out from the stress of worrying about me, taking care of me…you know. Anyway, I told her to take some time today. Get herself a massage. She’ll be around later tonight. She’s anxious to see you.”

  “I’m sure,” Zach said, not sounding sure at all. “What about the doctor? I have to talk to him. Kat will have my head if I don’t come back with a full list of all your medications, what you can do, what you can’t do.”

  Caer heard footsteps in the hall, probably Sean’s doctor on the way. She slipped around the corner and headed for Michael’s office.

  “Help. Is anyone out there?” came a weak cry from one of the rooms.

  Caer paused, turned and headed in. A frail old woman was lying in one of the beds. She looked as if she had lived several lifetimes, all of them tough.

  “Hi, what do you need?” Caer asked gently.

  “Just the telly thing, there, dear. I hate to ring the bell and be botherin’ a nurse for such nonsense, but I can’t get the thing. It fell.”

  Caer smiled and stooped down for the remote. “It should be on a string, attached to the bed,” Caer said. “I’ll see that someone comes in and fixes that for you.”

  “Ah, bless ya, lass,” the woman said. Caer looked at her. She was old and worn, but her eyes were bright. Her hand, as it fell on Caer’s, was all bones and age spots, but it felt surprisingly strong. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Caer, and something seemed to disturb her, but she offered a tremulous smile. “Gentle and kind, you are.”

  Caer squeezed the woman’s hand and backed away quickly, glancing at the woman’s chart and her name. “Mrs. McGillicutty, when you need something and you can’t get it yourself, you ring that bell, do you hear me?”

  “I don’t like to be a nuisance,” Mrs. McGillicutty said.

  “You’re not a nuisance, so get that thought right out of your head,” Caer said firmly. “And I’ll send someone in here right away to fix that remote.”

  As she started out of the room, another woman came in, moving quickly. She was perhaps forty or so, and pretty, except for her look of fatigue and stress. She smiled at Caer hesitantly. “Is everything all right? Mum is…?” Her smile was beginning to fade.

  “Fine, fine. She just needs a bit of very simple technology—a cord for her remote,” Caer assured her, and the other woman let out a sigh and went to the bedside, kissing the old woman’s cheek as she took her hand.

  “Mary, me love. So good to see ya.”

  Mrs. McGillicutty took her daughter’s hand, and her eyes were bright.

  Caer was surprised to feel a sting of tears come to her own eyes. She was startled by her own show of emotion and swiped impatiently at her cheeks. But it was beautiful, the loving bond between mother and daughter.

  “That pretty nurse is just going to be seeing to it that I can reach my telly-thing here,” Mrs. McGillicutty said happily, then turned to Caer.

  “Mary took over my husband’s pub when he passed away,” she said proudly. “You’ll have to stop in—it’s just down the street. It’s called Irish Eyes.”

  “Mum,” Mary said, “I’m sure she has better things to do.”

  “I’d love to stop by,” Caer said. “I’ll come tonight.” She smiled warmly.

  Mary flushed slightly. “’Tis just a working man’s place,” Mary said.

  “And a working woman’s, as well,” Mrs. McGillicutty chastised.

  “I just meant that…well, it’s a pub. Family style. Nothing fancy,” Mary explained.

  “Nothing fancy needed. I’d love to stop by.”

  Caer had the feeling that it would be old-style and charming, not like all those soulless new bars taking over the city.

  And, she thought, irritably, if she was heading to America, Michael could stuff himself if he didn’t think she deserved a night out before she left. She had that envelope full of money to spend, straight out of petty cash, and she didn’t see any reason not to spend some of it at Mary’s pub.

  She hadn’t checked the amount, of course, but she doubted that it was too “petty.” She would spend the afternoon of the day shopping and doing a bit of research on another O’Riley, and then she would stop by the pub.

  “I’ll see you later,” Caer said with a smile.

  “Lovely,” Mary told her.

  Caer left the room at last, seeing to it that a nurse’s aide went to take care of Mrs. McGillicutty’s remote control, then quickly changing out of her uniform. On her way out, she stopped by Sean O’Riley’s door. He was still in conversation with Zachary Flynn, but their voices were too low for her to hear.

  Caer left the hospital and wandered the streets, shopping for what she thought she might need in America, though quite frankly, she had no idea what would be stylish for a Rhode Island winter. She did the best she could, though she was handicapped by the fact that she seldom dressed in normal street clothing.

  With her purchases made, she went on to the hotel where Sean and his wife were staying. Amanda wasn’t in her room; at least, she didn’t answer when Caer called her on the house phone. Deciding that the other woman must still be in the spa, Caer decided it was time to find out what the ritzy establishment had to offer.

  It was all on Michael’s euro, after all, she thought with a satisfied smile.

  She checked her purchases with the bell desk and headed for the spa. Apparently, everyone felt the need for something exotic, since Mandarin specialties were prominently advertised. She managed a quick look at the register and discovered that Amanda O’Riley was in the orange-herbal baths. Happily, she was able to arrange for a walk-in treatment for herself.

  She was escorted to a room where sitar music played softly, and she was offered slippers, a bathrobe and herbal tea. She asked if they had Irish breakfast tea, instead, which the consultant prepared for her, but only after looking at her strangely. Apparently few people turned down the herbal variety. Then she was served strawberries, which were delicious—she could barely remember tasting anything so sweet—and then she was whisked off to the bath, where she shed her robe and slipped into a giant tub filled with hot water, herbs and orange peels. Now she was listening to harp music, and luckily, she was in the tub right next to Sean’s wife.

  The blonde was lying back in the water, her hair wrapped in a towel to keep it dry, just as Caer’s had been. A pillow rested beneath her head, but she had removed the cucumbers she had been given to set on her eyelids and was chatting to the woman on her other side.

  The water was soothing, and a series of small jets kept it in constant motion. That, combined with the orange peels and whatever concoction of herbs floated in the water, intended to soften the skin, was extremely pleasant. She allowed her cucumbers to remain on her eyelids and listened in, though she hardly imagined that—if Amanda had indeed caused Sean’s illness in some way—she was going to blurt out a confession to a stranger.

  “Eddie is such a nice guy. It’s too bad he’s the one who’s missing, not Marni, Cal’s wife. Talk about a piece of work. She has a husband of her own, but she’s always looking to sweet-talk mine. Not that I blame her, really. You’d have to know Sean to understand just how fabulous he is, even though he’s so much older than I am. He’s got the constitution of an ox. He’s never ill—well, usually. Honestly, I don’t understand what could have happened.” The woman sounded genuinely puzzled, Caer thought. “All this has really upset me. I needed to
day. Absolutely needed a break from the depressing atmosphere of…that crummy hospital.”

  Caer almost sat up in indignation. The hospital was understaffed, admittedly. But it was a good hospital, and the employees worked very hard. It was more than a job to the people she had come across there—it was a caring way of life….

  And depressing? Crummy?

  Christmas was still weeks away, but in their free time, the staff had put up trees on every floor and in every ward. They had festooned the walls with decorations, and done everything they could to brighten the patients’ rooms for the holidays, so those stuck in bed to while away their hours of pain and sickness would have something cheery to look at.

  Well, she hadn’t cared much for Amanda when she had met her, and nothing she was hearing now was doing anything to change her opinion. She certainly didn’t seem like the kind of woman a man like Sean would choose to marry.

  “You know,” Amanda said to the woman on her far side, “he may be older, but all those years of experience certainly pay off in bed.” She giggled. “I mean, he’s hot. Maybe that’s what I should do,” she said, considering. “Something risqué, like making it with him in his hospital bed.”

  Far more than Caer wanted to know.

  But the woman on the other side of Amanda was apparently perfectly happy to discuss other people’s sex lives.

  “If the man is ill and, well, older, that might not be all that good for him,” she said.

  “Really?” Amanda said thoughtfully. “It could be just what he needs.”

  Amanda’s cosmetician came by then with a massive towel to help her out of the water, informing her that it was time for her sea-salt scrub.

  Caer sank deeper into the water, grateful now that the woman hadn’t noticed her, since she was going to be traveling with them, and Amanda might not be best pleased if Sean’s nurse knew all about her love life.

  Caer opted against the sea-salt scrub herself, and quickly dressed and headed downstairs, where she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Michael. When he answered, her heart sank. It sounded as if he were at the races. “You’re not at the hospital, are you?” she asked.

  “No, but I made sure someone’s there,” he told her.

  “Sean needs to be watched carefully tonight.”

  “He’s your assignment,” Michael told her.

  “Yes, but if I’m leaving tomorrow, I have things to do,” she informed him.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked.

  “I think that his wife might actually try to kill him tonight.”

  “How? A knife? A gun? More poison?” Michael asked sharply.

  “No. With…kindness, you might say.”

  “What?”

  She groaned inwardly. “Michael, she was talking about shagging him in the hospital. If that causes any kind of a strain on his heart, it could be dangerous for him.”

  “Mmm, but what a way to go, huh?” he said lightly.

  “Michael!”

  “Sorry, sorry, just thinking it might be just the thing for a lot of poor blokes out there.”

  “Are you taking this seriously at all?” she demanded. “Because if you’re not—”

  “If I weren’t, you wouldn’t be going to America,” he told her. “But don’t worry, get your shopping done—and whatever else it is you intend for the night.”

  “I intend to learn how to blend in like a normal person,” she informed him. “God knows, working for you, I seldom get that pleasure.”

  “Go on then, blend. I have someone at the hospital, and I’ll see that Sean’s not left alone with his devoted spouse. But once you leave the country, he’ll be your responsibility. What will you do then?” he queried. “Sleep on a cot in the marital bedroom?”

  “You really should think about stand-up comedy,” she said irritably. “I just think that he needs to be a bit stronger before he…you know.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Of what?” she demanded.

  She heard the laughter deep in his throat. “A good shag?”

  “I’m hanging up now, Michael,” she told him, but he stopped her before she could make good on her threat.

  “Caer.”

  “Yes?”

  “After you left, they finished their arrangements. You will be leaving tomorrow. Zach Flynn met with the doctor, and O’Riley’s records have already been transmitted to the States. Mr. Flynn seemed to have no problem with a nurse attending Mr. O’Riley—in fact, he seemed to think it was a wise decision. He even appeared amused when he discovered it was you. He teased Mr. O’Riley that his wife might not be pleased. So there you go. She definitely won’t be happy at all about that cot in her bedroom.”

  She took a deep breath, ready to tell him what to do with himself, but he went on too quickly for any interruption.

  “You leave the hospital in a limo with the O’Rileys and Mr. Flynn at 8:00 a.m. sharp for an eleven-forty-five to New York City, where you’ll transfer to a flight into Providence.”

  “No problem.”

  “Don’t be late.”

  “I’m never late, Michael. Being on time is a requirement of the job, after all.”

  “Yes, so I need to get on this right away. Flynn has left the hospital. In fact, he should be arriving at the hotel any minute.”

  As Michael spoke, Caer saw the American walking into the lobby.

  “Right. He’s here.”

  They said goodbye quickly, and she hung up, wondering if she should try to hide behind one of the pillars and avoid him. But she was too late. He had seen her. He’d walked in with his head slightly lowered, as if he were in deep thought, and when his eyes fell on her, they seemed to fill with a touch of annoyance as well as curiosity.

  “Hello, Miss Cavannaugh,” he said.

  “Hello,” she said, inexplicably at a loss for conversation.

  “I understand that you’re flying with us tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  “So what brings you to the hotel?”

  “The spa,” she said quickly.

  “Oh?”

  She blushed. Dammit, she didn’t blush, and now he’d made her do so twice in one day. It was the way he was looking at her, as if she were a typical woman, as if creature comforts and looking pretty were all that mattered to her.

  “I’ve never flown before,” she said. Stupid admission! But he seemed so suspicious of her from the get-go, as if she couldn’t possibly be what she claimed to be, so she felt the need to convince him. “To be honest,” she added ruefully, “I’ve never been outside the British Isles. I’m a bit nervous about the plane ride, and I thought I’d try something to…not be nervous.”

  “Ah.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get to your room,” she told him.

  “I’m not in a terrible hurry,” he said.

  Great, she thought. So they were just supposed to stand there, staring at one another?

  He smiled slowly, as if aware of her discomfort and trying to put her at ease. “Are you set for the trip?” he asked her. He was staring at the shopping bags she had retrieved from behind the bell desk.

  “As set as I can be,” she replied.

  He studied her again. “Are you free for a bit?”

  “Free? In what way?” she asked cautiously.

  “I was thinking of checking on Amanda, then getting a bite to eat. I was hoping you would join me.”

  “Oh, well, perhaps Amanda’s hungry, too,” she suggested.

  “I’m assuming that Amanda will want to see Sean sometime today.”

  An unbidden image of Amanda’s plans for the evening popped into Caer’s mind. But Michael would see to it that Sean was kept safe from his wife’s “ministrations,” she thought.

  She blinked to dispel the unwelcome image and was staring at the face of the man before her. A striking face. Strong features that helped to define the sea-colored eyes and auburn hair. His was a face that offered a grave maturity along with youth. She didn’t think he could be much more
than thirty, and yet something in his eyes made it appear that he had acquired the knowledge of a lifetime.

  He was a private investigator. He’d been in law enforcement, forensics, before that. No doubt he’d seen far more than he had ever wanted to of the dark side of human nature.

  But surely not even he could know about Michael and the Agency.

  “You were going to eat this evening, right? Dinner?” he said.

  “I was going to a pub,” she said. “To see friends,” she added quickly. Saying goodbye to friends would be the natural thing to do before taking a long journey.

  “If you know a good one and can bear the company…?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said stiffly, wondering how she was going to handle the question of friends if he actually insisted on accompanying her. In fact, she thought, this was where he should have politely let her off the hook, seeing as she hadn’t replied with anything that resembled enthusiasm. But he didn’t.

  “Sean’s welfare is of the utmost concern to both of us,” he said.

  “Then maybe one of us should stay at the hospital,” she suggested.

  He smiled. “Not necessary.”

  “Oh?”

  “One of the orderlies is actually an associate,” he told her.

  “An associate of what?” she asked, frowning.

  “The family business,” he said lightly, and shrugged. “You’ll be getting all the family dirt soon enough, might as well start off knowing the full story. As you may have realized, Amanda and Kat don’t get along. Kat believes Amanda caused her father’s illness.”

  “And what do you believe?” she asked him.

  He shrugged. “You’ve met Amanda, right. Flighty? Yes? Clever enough to pull off the perfect crime? Not unless she’s an exceptional actress. But right now, I’m not sure it matters so much what I believe. It’s better to keep all bases covered and just see what, if anything, happens.” He had been speaking relatively lightly, but he sobered as he added, “One of Sean’s partners has gone missing, so all precautions should be taken.”

  “I see,” she said.