“You should have woken me. I’d have kept you company,” Leslie said.
“That’s okay, no point in both of us being exhausted.”
“Nonsense,” Leslie replied. “Next time, wake me up. I’ll expect you to make me hot milk with honey, though, like Gigi used to.”
The mention of my great-grandmother made me smile, as I’m sure Leslie knew it would.
“Maybe a nice meal and a glass of strong whisky would help. What do you girls feel like for dinner? I’m not much of a chef but I can order in like a pro.”
I laughed as I saw Leslie’s eyes light up. She clearly had some ideas.
The phone rang before she could answer, though, and Da left the room. Instead she turned to me, tucking her legs under her body so she could sit on her feet, “Did you see the Inspector today?”
“Yes. He stopped by when you left to get lunch,” I replied.
“Did you tell him what the nurse said about Liam phoning the hospital?”
“I did. He said they would look into it.”
“What will he do?”
“I don’t know. It’s not as if the Inspector consults me on his decisions. I’m assuming he’ll speak to the nurse and possibly track the call to see where it came from. I don’t see how, though. It’s a big hospital and there’s probably a switchboard.”
“If he is alive, that would explain a lot.”
“I know. It’s just, we saw him die, Les. How is it possible?”
An uncomfortable silence settled between us.
“What if it is him, but it’s not his body?” Leslie mused. “What if one of his past-life personas has somehow found a way through time?” she added quickly.
“No. I don’t think so. It doesn’t work like that.”
“I can’t believe that this is happening, after what we’ve been through this year.”
“Tell me about it.” I shook my head in exasperation.
Da came back into the room and we changed the subject. He didn’t know about my time traveling past, only that his son had tried to kill me in this life for some reason.
“Oh shoot, I left my cell phone at the hospital,” I said, opening and closing my vacant purse.
“No problem. I was just heading to pick up dinner. I ordered from one of the French restaurants in town. They don’t usually do takeout but the owner is a good friend. Why don’t I drop you off and grab the food and then pick you back up?” Da replied.
SIXTY-SIX
I awakened with a start and bolted up from my chair, completely unaware of my surroundings and jabbing whatever was in my hand like a knife. Then Da started to chuckle and I remembered I was at the hospital.
“Ye know, my dear, they say it’s best to throw the wallet away from ye when being mugged,” Da said. “I don’t think stabbing yer attacker with it has ever worked.”
I sat back down and took a breath to steady my racing pulse. “I don’t know, the old ladies in cartoons always seemed to do alright.”
“Fair enough, but they usually beat their assailants over the head with a handbag.”
I stretched my arms up and rolled my head around. “I must have dozed off.”
“If that was dozin’, I’m surprised Cullen doesn’t have more bruises.”
I smiled. “I was having a bad dream.”
“I know, dear. I’m teasin’. It’s not like ye’ve had the easiest time of it this year. I think we’re all a little on edge.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “You look like you could use a break,” he said.
“I am feeling a little lost. What day is it, anyway?”
“Monday. Why don’t ye take my car and zip home? Have a bath, grab that change of clothes ye wanted and that pretty little feline, Daphne and come on back?”
I was sure my eyes had sparkled when he mentioned a bath, but I was conflicted over leaving Cullen. What if he woke and I missed it?
“Don’t worry,” Da said. “I’ll stay with him. Take yer time. I don’t have anywhere better to be.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m his father, Sophia. I can worry just as well as ye can. I’ll be sure to ring ye when he wakes up. I know yers is the first face he’ll ask after, anyhow.”
I smiled and rose from my chair. “You’re a wonderful father, Da. Thank you for taking care of us both.” I leaned over to kiss his cheek.
Da’s Mercedes Benz was a smooth ride although I was a little nervous driving it through the countryside in my zombie-like-fashion. I had to turn up the music to keep myself awake at times. The hospital food and chairs weren’t doing me any favors and while my yoga pants were comfortable, it was time for a fresh pair.
I texted Leslie before I left the hospital to let her know what I was doing. She was still at Da’s but she was headed to Sam’s place for the night. Part of me felt guilty for not telling her about Sam’s kiss but I assuaged the guilt by telling myself that he was drunk, hurt and it was best left forgotten. Leslie had never been happier and I just couldn’t stand the thought of ruining that for her. She texted me back immediately and promised to meet me at a local diner for eggs and bacon tomorrow morning before visiting hours—her way of making sure that I ate. God love her.
A blur of black fur darted at me as soon as I unlocked the front door. Daphne was as happy to see me as I was to see her. After some much needed cuddling and purring we walked into the kitchen, flicking on all of the lights. In other circumstances Cullen would have admonished me for being wasteful, but I was sure he’d understand why it made me feel safer right now.
Despite my fears with regard to Liam I was actually kind of grateful to be alone. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed rest now that Cullen had been found. My mind wasn’t functioning at full capacity. I needed a break to refresh and get centered again.
I popped two stale butter tarts into my mouth, chugged a bottle of lemonade and headed upstairs. I considered a bath, but decided on sleep first. I donned an old jersey of Cullen’s and underwear and poured myself into bed, barely pausing to close the curtains. I could have wept for joy when my head hit that soft fluffy pillow. Those hospital chairs practically doubled as torture devices.
After two hours of solid blissful sleep, the house phone rang.
I ignored it. Only telemarketers and Cullen’s nosey distant relatives called the house.
It rang again and I sat up.
Go away!
I gave the bed a wistful glance, but I knew it was hopeless. Once I was awakened to a certain level, there was no falling back asleep. I would only worry that the hospital was trying to reach me.
I made a cup of coffee in the Keurig while the tub filled and called Da.
No changes there.
Finally, when the tub was full of scalding sudsy bubbles I slipped in and remained there for five whole minutes until someone knocked at my front door.
Holy mother of pearl! What did a girl have to do around here to get some peace?
My desire to soak in the warm water outweighing my desire to find out who it was, I closed my eyes and dipped my nose towards the waterline.
Then my phone buzzed. Damn. I’d left it in the bedroom—whoever it was was becoming more and more insistent. So much so that I began to worry that something had happened to Cullen.
I climbed out of the bath, wrapped a towel around myself and pattered out into the bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints in my wake. A chill whipped around my wet, bare shoulders and legs as I answered.
“Sophia?” Sam said, “Where are ye?”
I paused, a little taken aback by his question. I mean we hadn’t spoken since he tried to kiss me, but he sounded upset. “I’m at the house. I came home for a bit. When did you back from your assignment?” I asked.
“Ye’re not with Leslie?” he blurted out.
“No, I haven’t spoken to her since she left to go to your place,” I replied.
“Lock yer doors and don’t open them for anyone but me.”
My heart began to thump
in my chest. “What’s happening? You’re scaring me,” I said, keeping my voice as controlled as I could.
“She didn’t show up and I just got a strange phone call from her. I’m worried,” he said, “I’ll tell you about it when I get to yer place.”
I dropped my wet towel and reached for my white fluffy robe. I was about to call him back to see if he called the inspector when my phone started to ring again.
“Sam?” I said, “Did you forget to tell me something?”
I waited, but there was no answer.
“Hello?” I said again.
Silence.
“Look, if you are messing around, you can just go to…”
“Help me,” a weak, barely audible voice interrupted.
I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the number.
“Leslie?” I shouted. “Is that you?”
“Help me,” the voice repeated in its deathly whisper.
“Leslie?”
“Please,” the voice said.
I raced into the bedroom, grabbing some tights and a sweater from the top shelf of the wardrobe. I dressed and then headed down the stairs. As I rushed, horrible scenarios involving my best friend flashed through my mind.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs I slowed to a stop, taking the opportunity to look through the frosted glass of the outside door.
There was a silhouette.
I backed up and remained hidden. This could all be a trick to lure me outside. I ran back upstairs, my breathing heavy, and grabbed my phone. Leslie’s mobile was off so I left a message, asking her to get in touch as soon as possible.
The curtains were closed but I tugged one half to the side and looked out the window just in time to see a courier van speeding away.
I ran back down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and stared at the package on my doorstep. I ripped open the top and pulled out a card. It had the words thinking of you emblazoned on the front. Inside was a photograph of Leslie leaving the hospital in a burgundy cropped sweater and high-waisted jeans. The same outfit she’d had on when I last saw her. With shaky hands, I turned the photo over and read the short message on the back. Let’s try this again.
A car door slammed and I lifted my head nearly giving myself whiplash in the process.
“Ye okay?” Sam asked, standing beside his car.
I hadn’t even heard him pull up. So much for being careful.
“I got a call from Leslie,” I replied, pulling the picture out of the card. “She was begging for help.” I could barely get the words out before the tears lodged in my throat.
“Ye, too,” he noted.
“Then this arrived,” I stuttered. “He has her. Whoever had Cullen, he has Leslie now.”
“Have you called the Inspector, yet?” Sam asked.
Spurred into action, I ran into the house for my phone and searched for the card Ó Cléirigh had given me with his number. Then I hit redial remembering that I’d called him earlier.
My knees felt shaky so I sat down hard on one of the kitchen chairs. The call was answered on the second ring.
“Ó Cléirigh here,” his tone was clipped and impatient.
“Hi, it’s Sophia Marcil.”
“It’s not a good time, Ms. Marcil,” he interrupted. “I’ll ring ye back.”
“Have you found something?” I asked. Or someone?
He sounded distracted. “I’ll be in touch in a little bit.”
And with that the line went dead.
“What did he say?” Sam asked, coming inside.
“That it wasn’t a good time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked, pulling a face.
“I don’t know. He’s calling back,” I said. “Something’s happened. He was distracted.”
“I suppose we’ll hear soon enough. Calm down and I’ll make ye a tea. We can figure this out,” Sam mused, filling and setting the kettle to boil.
“Thanks. I’m a terrible hostess,” I said sheepishly. “I just feel so helpless,” I admitted, stretching back and looking up at the ceiling. What if the Inspector found Leslie’s body? What else could be so important? A million scenarios ran through my head but I kept them to myself. I still didn’t completely trust Sam given what had happened. There was no way I was drinking that tea either, not after what Liam had done to me. Less than two minutes later, the steam rose from the kettle.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me one of the cups.
I stared at the photograph, searching for answers and then looked across the table at Sam, who was kneading the sides of his head.
“Ye’re as worried as I am?” He whispered.
“Of course, I am,” I replied, getting to my feet. “First Cullen, and now Leslie.” I stood and paced the living room. “He’s got her. I know it.” Then it hit me. “We have to go to your castle! What if the kidnapper has stashed her there like he did Cullen?”
“I already checked. It was the first thing I thought of.” Sam said, looking at his feet.
“Really? And she wasn’t there? How did you have time?” I sat back down feeling uber deflated.
“I called my Uncle and had him search. I’m sorry, lass. Do ye wanna have a go at it ourselves, just to be sure? I don’t mind. I sure as hell feel useless sitting around with my thumb up my arse.”
“No. It’s a long drive. There’s no point if your family checked.” I replied. “Besides it’s too obvious.”
I stared at the row of books I kept on the bookshelf to the left of the fireplace. Several of them were cozy mysteries and I couldn’t help but wish I were the heroine in them right now. How did they always manage to know what to do and where to look? Speaking of books … I spotted one in Sam’s hands. “Where did you get that from?”
“It was in Leslie’s bag. I searched her stuff after I got that phone call. I was hoping I’d find some sort of clue as to where she was. This was the only strange thing. What is it?” he asked.
“It’s Liam’s journal,” I replied, looking through it in morbid fascination.
“I guess she was readin’ it,” Sam said, moving to look over my shoulder.
“That sounds like Leslie,” I agreed. “I’m not sure how much Leslie told you, but we sort of suspect Liam is somehow alive.”
Sam looked up, startled. “Cullen’s brother, ye mean, the one who tried to kill all of ye two months ago?”
I nodded.
“Leslie said that ye buried him.”
“We did, but what if the body they buried wasn’t his?” I said. “His family comes from money. He could have paid the right people off.”
“They would have used dental records,” Sam replied.
“Maybe they didn’t,” I countered. “Maybe they just assumed that it was him, and neglected to do the proper tests, or, again, maybe he paid people off.”
“That would make for a pretty big conspiracy, lass.”
“I know, but it all points to him and it would make the most sense.”
“Let’s say that ye’re onto something—where would the bloody devil keep her? Where was his home?”
I opened a page in the book where Liam had doodled the image of stained glass onto one of the pages.
Suddenly it dawned on me where he would keep Leslie—exactly where he kept us—but could I really set foot back inside there?
“What is it, Sophia? Ye look like ye figured something out.”
I shuddered, thinking of the mini cathedral where Liam had held us all captive.
“I might just have.”
“Well, what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go.” Sam said, putting his hand on my arm.
“Maybe we should wait,” I replied, feeling nerves squeeze at my insides.
“For what?” he said.
“I don’t know,” I replied, swallowing hard. “The Inspector.”
“We haven’t the time, lass,” Sam dismissed. “He’s not exactly takin’ our calls and every second we wait here increases the chance that somethi
n’ bad might happen. Are ye coming or no?”
“I’ll come, but let’s try the Inspector once more.”
Sam’s face went red. “Just give me the address and I’ll go myself. Who knows what the sick bastard could be doin’ to her right now.”
I thought of my friend who’d died in the basement of that church at the hands of Liam and slipped on my shoes.
“I’ll drive,” Sam said, tugging at my sleeve.
SIXTY-SEVEN
T he church loomed in front of us, its large stained-glass windows looking beautiful in the afternoon light. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, I thought to myself.
“This may all very well be a wild goose chase,” I said, climbing out of the passenger seat of Sam’s car.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
I paused.
“Wait a second,” I said, as Sam walked up the path. “You don’t know Liam. He’s a psychopath.”
“What are ye yammerin’ about now, lass?”
“I’m just saying we need to think this through. He’s powerful. Storming in there isn’t the right thing to do. It could be a trap. He’s very clever.”
“Ye don’t have to come,” Sam said. “Wait here.”
“It’s not that,” I replied. “If you go, I’ll go. I just mean we need a plan or something.”
“I’ll protect ye, Sophia,” Sam said, pushing open the gate.
I looked off in the distance. I could almost make out Liam’s grave. It had been raining earlier and the air smelled of damp and dirt. I could only imagine what the tunnels would feel like. Would we have to search them too?
My phone rang just as Sam attempted the door handle.
“Oh, thank God, maybe the Inspector has time now.” I reached for the phone, but the number wasn’t Ó Cléirigh’s.
“Sophia Marcil?”
“Yes.”
“I’m callin’ from the hospital.”
It was the nurse who had been so kind to me.
“I’ve some news about yer man, Cullen. He’s woken. He says he wants to go home for the holidays.”
I stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hospital corridor alone. Only immediate family was permitted so Sam had dropped me off outside. He promised to go back to the cathedral with the Inspector for backup once he dropped me off. I just hoped he’d wait for the Inspector before he headed in. The worry was etched on his face. Not that I could blame him. The guilt over leaving the place was eating me alive. Especially, when we were on the doorstep of possibly rescuing Leslie, but at the same time, something had felt so wrong about the situation. After everything I’d been through—I knew a setup when I saw one. I would let the Inspector handle that place.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 65
