The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 2

by Nora Roberts

  twenty

  As the lodge came in sight, Noah’s plan was simple. He was simple. He was going straight to the bar to buy a bottle, make that two bottles of beer. He was taking both up to his room where he would drink them during his hour-long hot shower.

  If that didn’t make him feel human again, well, he’d just order up some raw meat and gnaw at it.

  The light was fading to a pearly gray with a few wild streaks of color in the western sky. But he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it.

  For God’s sake, he’d only kissed her. It wasn’t as if he’d ripped her clothes off and dragged her to the ground for maniac sex. The fact that the image of doing just that held entirely too much appeal only made him grind his teeth as he pulled open the door to the lodge.

  He turned to her, started to make some blisteringly polite comment on her ability as guide, when the desk clerk hurried over.

  “Mr. Brady, you had a call from your mother. She said it was urgent.”

  Everything inside him froze, then started to churn sickly. “My mother?”

  “Yes, she called about an hour after you left this morning, and again at three. She asked that you call her at home as soon as you came in.”

  He had a horrible and vivid image of cops coming to the door. Every family of those on the job knew what it meant when you opened the door and cops were standing there, their faces carefully blank.

  His father was retired. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

  “I—”

  “You can call from in here.” Olivia took his arm gently, spoke with absolute calm. The blank fear on his face set off screams of alarm in her head, but her hand was steady as she led him past the desk and into a back office.

  “You can dial direct from here. I’ll just—” She started to step back, intending to give him privacy, but his hand clamped over hers.

  He said nothing at all, just held on while he dialed the number. His grip on her anchored him as a dozen terrors spun through his head. His palm went sweaty on the receiver as it rang once, twice, then his mother’s voice, rushed and breathless, had a spike of ice slicing into his gut.

  “Mom?”

  “Oh, Noah, thank goodness.”

  “Dad?” He lived a thousand hells in the heartbeat it took her to answer.

  “No, no, honey. It’s not Frank. Your father’s fine.” Before his knees could buckle with relief, she was rushing on. “It’s Mike, Noah.”

  “Mike?” His fingers tightened on Olivia’s, turning both their knuckles white. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Noah, I—God . . . He’s in the hospital. He’s in a coma. We don’t know how bad. They’re running tests, they’re doing everything they . . .”

  When she began to weep, Noah felt his guts slide into greasy knots. “What happened? A car accident?”

  “No, no. Someone hurt him. Someone hit him and hit him. From behind, they say. He was in your house last night.”

  “At the beach house? He was at my place?” Denial and fear pounded through him. “It happened last night?”

  “Yes. I didn’t hear about it until this morning, early this morning. Your father’s at the hospital now. I’m going back. They’ll only let one of us sit with him at a time, for just a few minutes. He’s in Intensive Care.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll take the first flight out.”

  “One of us will be at the hospital. Maggie and Jim—” Her voice broke again when she spoke of Mike’s parents. “They shouldn’t be alone there.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll come straight there. Mom . . .” He could think of nothing. Nothing. “I’m on my way,” he said again. He hung up the phone, then just stared at it. “My friend, he was attacked. He’s in a coma. I have to go home.”

  He still had her hand, but his grip was loose now. She could feel his fingers tremble. “Go pack what you need. I’ll call the airport, book you a flight.”

  “What?”

  Her heart broke for him. Looking at his pale face and stunned eyes, there was room for no other feeling but pity. “It’ll save time, Noah. Just go up and get what you need. I’ll get you to the airport.”

  “Yeah . . . God.” He snapped back, eyes clearing, face going hard and tight. “Just get me a seat, whatever gets me to L.A. quickest. Standby if nothing else. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  He was as good as his word and was back at the office door before she’d completed the booking. He hadn’t bothered to change, she noted, and carried only his backpack and laptop.

  “You’re set.” She rose quickly from behind the desk. “It’s a private airstrip about forty minutes from here, friends of my grandparents. They’ll take off as soon as you get there.”

  She snagged a set of keys off a board as she headed out of the office. She jogged to a Jeep in the side lot, unlocked it and climbed in as he tossed his pack in the back.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “It’s all right. Don’t worry about the rest of your things and your car. We’ll deal with it.” She drove fast, her hands competent on the wheel, her eyes straight ahead. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  The initial shakes had passed, but he laid his throbbing head back against the seat. “I’ve known him forever. Second grade. He moved into the neighborhood. Pudgy kid, a complete dork. You were honor bound to beat the shit out of him. I was going to take my shot but just couldn’t do it. He was so oblivious of his own dorkiness. Still is. He had this ridiculous crush on Marcia Brady.”

  “Is she your cousin?”

  “Huh? Oh, Brady. No, Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. The Brady Bunch.” He opened his eyes long enough to give her a look of astonishment, then sighed. “Right, no TV. Doesn’t matter. He’s the sweetest person I know. Dead loyal and completely harmless. Son of a bitch!” He pounded his fist on the dash, then pressed his hands to his face. “Son of a bitch. He’s in a coma, a fucking coma. My mother was crying. She holds, she always holds. If she’s breaking like that it has to be bad. Really bad.”

  She wanted to pull over, for just a minute, to take him to her, hold on to him until he found some comfort. It was an urge she’d never felt with anyone other than family. So she tightened her hands on the wheel and punched the gas.

  “It’s my fault.” Noah dropped his hands on his lap, let them lie there limply.

  “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” She kept her voice brisk, practical. Logic, she thought, was more productive than a comforting hug. “You weren’t even there.”

  “I didn’t take it seriously enough. I didn’t take her seriously enough. I sent him over there. Water the goddamn plants. Water the plants, Mike. And I knew she was half crazy.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “I was seeing this woman for a while. It wasn’t serious on my end, but I should have seen it. I just sort of drifted along with it—why the hell not? Good sex with a great body, a snappy-looking woman to hang out with. When it got complicated, I broke things off. Then it got nasty. There were some altercations, then the big one where she trashed my house while I was away.”

  “Trashed your house?”

  “Big time. I had to scoop up most of what was left with a shovel.”

  “That’s horrible. Really. Why didn’t you have her arrested?”

  “Couldn’t prove it. Everybody knew she’d done it, just her style, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. She tossed a few more threats in my face, made another scene. Then I go flying off, and tell Mike to water my flowers while I’m gone.”

  “If this very bizarre woman is the one who hurt your friend, then it’s her fault. It’s her responsibility. It’s her guilt.”

  He said nothing to that. He was suffering, Olivia thought. She could feel the pain coming off him in shaky waves. And couldn’t stand it. “When . . . after my mother’s death I went through a period where I blamed myself. I’d run away and I’d hidden in the closet. I didn’t do anything to help her.”

  “Jesus, Liv, you were
four.”

  “Doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter, Noah. When you love someone and something terrible happens to them, it doesn’t matter how old you are. After that,” she continued, “I went through another stage when I blamed her. What the hell was she thinking? She let him in the house. She let the monster in,” she murmured and shuddered once. “She let him in, and he took her away from me. She left me. I blamed her for that.”

  She flinched when he lifted a hand to touch her cheek, then blew out a steadying breath. “Maybe you have to go through those stages before you can get to the truth of it. Sam Tanner was to blame. He was the only one to blame. Not me, not my mother.”

  “You’re right. I owe you for this.”

  “The lodge would have done the same for anyone.”

  “No. I owe you.” He laid his head back again, closed his eyes and rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Noah was running on nerves alone by the time he rushed off the elevator in ICU. During the flight he’d imagined Mike dead. Then jumped to giddy images of his friend popping up in bed and making a lame joke. When the cab had dropped him at the hospital, he was nearly ready to believe it had all been some weird dream.

  Then he saw his mother sitting on a bench in the silent hallway, her arm around Maggie Elmo. Guilt and fear balled messily in his throat.

  “Oh, Noah.” Celia got quickly to her feet to throw her arms around him. He felt her stomach quiver against his. “I’m so glad you’re here. There’s no change,” she added in a whisper.

  “I need to see him. Can I . . .” He shook his head, then forced himself to ease away and face Maggie. “Mrs. Elmo.”

  “Noah.” Tears began to trickle out of her already swollen eyes as she reached for him. He lowered to the bench, wrapped his arms tight around her. “He’ll want you here. He’ll want to see you when he wakes up. He’s going to wake up. Any minute now.”

  He hung on to her faith as desperately as he held on to her. “We’ve been taking turns going in.” Celia rubbed a hand over Noah’s back. “Frank and Jim are in there now. But Maggie has to lie down for a while.”

  “No, I—”

  “You said you’d lie down when Noah got here.” All but crooning the words, Celia drew Maggie to her feet. “They’ve got a bed for you, remember? You just need to stretch out for a few minutes. We want to give Noah some time with Mike, don’t we? I’ll sit with you.” She sent Noah a quiet look, then still murmuring, led Maggie down the hall.

  Swamped with grief, Noah lowered his head to his hands. He hadn’t moved when Frank came through the double doors to the left and saw him. Saying nothing, Frank sat, laid an arm over Noah’s shoulders.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Noah said when he could speak again.

  “You’re doing it. You’re here.”

  “I want to hurt her. I’m going to find a way to make her pay for this.”

  “That’s not what you need to focus on now.”

  “You know she did this.” Noah straightened, stared at Frank with burning eyes. “You know she did.”

  “It’s very possible. She’ll be questioned as soon as they locate her, Noah.” He gripped Noah’s shoulder, cutting off the vicious stream of oaths. “She can’t be charged without evidence.”

  “She’ll dance. Goddamn it, Dad, you know she’ll dance around this. I’m not letting her get away with it.”

  “I don’t know that,” Frank said firmly. “Neither do you. But I am telling you, as your father and as a cop, to stay away from her. If you follow through on what you’re feeling right now, you’ll only make matters worse. Let her box herself in, Noah, so we can put her away.”

  If Mike died, Noah thought, they wouldn’t be able to put her away deep enough.

  He stayed at the hospital until dawn, then went to his parents’ house, collapsed facedown on his childhood bed and dropped into oblivion for four hours.

  When he’d showered off twenty-four hours of sweat and fatigue, he went into the kitchen.

  His mother was there, dressed in an ancient terry-cloth robe and breaking eggs into a bowl. Because love for her burst through him, he went to her, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back against him.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my mother?”

  She managed a quiet laugh, lifting a hand up and around to pat his face. “I threw out the house rules this morning. Real eggs, real coffee all around. It’s going to be another long day.”

  “Yeah.” He looked over the top of her head, through the kitchen window into the yard beyond. “Remember when Mike and I tried to build that fort out back? We got all this scrap wood together and these rusted nails. Of course, he stepped on one and had to get a tetanus shot.”

  “Screamed bloody murder when he stepped on the nail. I thought he’d cut off an arm.” She let out a laughing sigh that ended perilously close to a sob. “I love that boy. And I’m ashamed that after I heard what happened, my first thought was thank God it wasn’t Noah. Oh, poor Maggie.”

  She eased away, picked up the bowl again and began briskly beating eggs. “We have to think positively. Think in healing white light. I’ve read a lot of books on it.”

  He had to smile a little. “I bet you have.”

  “We’re going to bring him out of this.” She got out a skillet, and the look she sent Noah was fierce and strong. “Believe it.”

  He wanted to, but every time he went into the tiny room in the hospital and saw Mike still and pale, his head swathed in bandages, his eyes sunk in shadowed bruises, his faith faltered.

  As morning swam toward afternoon, he paced the corridor while rage built inside him. He couldn’t let Caryn get away with what she’d done. He couldn’t do anything but hope and pray and stand at his friend’s bedside and talk nonsense just to block out the monotonous beep of machines.

  She’d wanted a shot at him, he thought. By Christ, he’d give it to her. He turned toward the elevator, strode toward it, with hate blooming black in his heart.

  “Noah?”

  “What?” Fists already clenched, he glanced at the brunette. She wore a lab coat over shirt and trousers, with a stethoscope in her pocket. “Are you one of Mike Elmo’s doctors?”

  “No. I—”

  “I know you,” he interrupted. “Don’t I?”

  “We met at the club—you and Mike, my friend and I. I’m Dory.”

  “Right.” He rubbed his tired eyes. The pretty brunette with the Southern drawl who stood up for him the night Caryn had come in. “You’re a doctor?”

  “Yes. Emergency medicine. I’m on my break and wanted to see how Mike was doing.”

  “They just keep saying no change.”

  “I’ll check on that in a minute. You look like you could use some air. Let’s take a walk.”

  “I was just heading out.”

  “Let’s take a walk,” she repeated. She’d seen murder in a man’s eye before. It wasn’t a look you forgot. “The last time I checked in, Mike’s vitals were stable. His tests have been good.” She punched the elevator button. “He’s critical, but he’s also young and healthy.”

  “He’s been in a coma for a day and a half.”

  She nudged him into the elevator with her. “Sometimes a coma is just the body’s way of focusing in on healing. And he did come around once in the ambulance on the way here. It was brief, but I think he recognized me, and that’s a very positive sign.”

  “You? You were with him?”

  She stepped out on the main lobby, took his arm to lead him to the doors. “We had a date. I was meeting him at your place. I was running late. We had a double suicide attempt come in. Lost one, saved the other. It was nearly ten by the time I got there.”

  Outside she turned her face up to the sun, rolled her shoulders. “God, it feels good out here. In any case, the door was open. Mike was on the kitchen floor, facedown. Glass all over the place. Wine bottle. It’s probably what he was hit with. I went to work on him. I had my bag in the car. I called it in, did
what I could on the scene. We had him in ER within thirty minutes.”

  “Is he going to die?”

  She didn’t answer right away, but sat down on the curb, waited for Noah to join her. “I don’t know. Medically, he’s got an even chance, maybe even a little better than even. There were no bone fragments in his brain, and that was a big one. Still, medicine has limits, and it’s up to him now. I’m half crazy about him.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yeah. I know he started off that night with this thing for Steph. And actually, I had the same kind of focus on you.” She tilted her face toward him and smiled. “You were a little too distracted to notice, so I went back and sulked a little.”

  “Yeah?”

  She had to smile. “Just a little. Mike and Steph went through the moves and motions. They sort of ran out of steam, and I felt sorry for Mike because he was worried about you and didn’t know what to do about it. We started talking and had this big click happen. We started going out. Then we started staying in.”

  “That was you the other night on the phone.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mike Elmo and the sexy doctor.” Absurdly pleased, Noah shook his head. “That’s just terrific.” He grabbed her face in his hand and kissed her noisily. “That’s just great.”

  She laughed and gave him a friendly pat on the knee. “He thinks you walk on water. I didn’t say that to make you sad,” she hurried on when the light went out of Noah’s eyes. “I said it because I think he’s a pretty great guy, and he thinks you’re a pretty great guy. So, I figure he’s right. And I figure that when I ran into you upstairs you’d had about enough and were going to go find that lunatic Caryn and . . . I was going to say do something you’d regret, but I don’t think you’d regret it. Something that wouldn’t help, that wouldn’t solve anything, and that in the end would put you in the kind of jam Mike wouldn’t like.”

  “She wanted to hurt me. She didn’t give a damn about Mike.”

  “Noah, she did hurt you. She hurt you where it matters the most. Let’s go back up. I only have a few more minutes left, and I want to see him.”

  He nodded, got to his feet, then held down a hand for hers. “I guess it’s lucky I ran into you.”