Jessie shook her head and Jim’s mouth set in a firm line, but he finally scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “Fine, Taylor. We can’t force you to go to a safe house.” He crossed his arms and added, “About the best I can do is ask the Chicago PD put a few extra patrols around and check in with you daily." Jim glanced at Jessica to confirm the suggestion. It wasn't his call, officially.
She nodded and turned to Dan. "That should be possible, right?"
"I think we can manage to get the okay, but we can't promise more than a few days. The lieutenant won't approve more than that. Budget crunch and all."
Jim understood budgets only too well. He jabbed a finger in Mark's direction. "Keep your phone handy. If you see anything, hear anything, or hell, have one of your dreams, give us a call. Got it?”
"Got it. I'm just going to head upstairs and relax. I'll be fine. I doubt even Kern would try anything with all the witnesses around."
Jim decided he'd come by in the morning to check in on Mark. He didn't quite trust the phone arrangement any more.
Jessica sighed. "I'm not comfortable with you staying alone. I can stop by in the morning and check in with you. You might need help with your bandages."
"Lily, do you have the keys for the new locks? I'd like to give one to Jessie so she can come up in the morning." Mark kept his gaze locked on Jessica as he spoke and Jim had a feeling that Jessica had nothing to worry about when it came to Lily.
Jim shook off the surge of pleasure that revelation gave him. He didn't have time to entertain thoughts of romance. Besides, while Lily was cute, she was ten years younger than him, and he'd only met her a few times before the night of Mark's abduction.
Lily rummaged in her desk and pulled out a key ring. "Here you go. I got three sets. I wasn't sure how many you'd need. The locksmith assured me the place is more secure than Fort Knox now."
"That's great, Lil. Thanks." He took a set and handed it to Jessica, his eyes more alive than Jim had seen in a long time.
Jim changed his mind about checking in. He had a feeling Jessica would get a much better reception. He hid a smile as she flushed and nodded.
Lily laughed, obviously not the least upset that Jessica would have the nursing duties. "Great! It's settled then."
Chapter 19
The minute Jessie, Dan and Jim left, Mark took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The adrenaline rush from the day's events had completely dissipated, and now he felt drained.
Lily locked the door after the trio had left and closed all the blinds. Mark turned towards the door at the back of the office that led up to his loft. Something smelled great and his mouth watered. After bland hospital food, he was ready for something good. “Did you cook something, Lily?”
She grinned and caught up to him. “Yeah. Kind of a welcome home lunch. It’s nothing fancy, just my sloppy joes and hash browns. I turned it off when I came downstairs when I heard the commotion outside. I just hope it's not too cold by now."
It was the perfect choice. He loved how she made them. The sauce was a blend of sweet and tangy and went great with salty hash browns. “That was really nice of you. Thanks. I can’t wait.”
"Good, because it's been ready for over an hour. I didn't know about the press conference until I saw it on the news at noon."
"Yeah. It was sprung on me last minute. It wasn't my idea."
"I didn't think it was, but you did great."
"Liar." He expected her to laugh, and when she was silent, he looked at her. "What's wrong?"
She stopped and rubbed her eyes.
Confused, Mark stepped in front of her and lifted her chin with one finger. "Lil? What is it?"
"I'm just angry at what is happening to you. It's not fair."
Mark smiled and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Aren't you the one who's always saying God has a plan?"
Her shoulders shook as she chuckled against him. Pulling back, she wiped her eyes. "Yes, you're right. And I believe it. That doesn't mean I don't think that sometimes God's plans royally suck."
He laughed. "Come on. Let's go eat lunch."
Hobbling a bit, Mark made his way towards the steps, not relishing the thought of climbing them, but he found that going slowly helped and it wasn’t bad. Entering, he felt a wave of both relief and dread wash over him. He was relieved to be home. There was no doubt about that, but this was where the cult had first attacked him, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel completely secure here again.
Lily turned to him when he stopped just inside the door. "Mark? Are you okay?"
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little creeped out.” He tried to laugh, but it died in his throat. To forget about his fears, he looked around, noticing that the loft was immaculate. A lot cleaner even than it had been before the attack. He had to smile at that. He wasn’t a slob, but when things got crazy with the camera, housekeeping chores fell by the wayside. “The place looks fantastic.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I only organized the clean-up crew. Jessie helped and got her sister to pitch in as well. Did you know you had something green and fuzzy growing in your fruit bin in the fridge?"
Mark laughed. “No, I did not know that—not sure I wanted to either.” He plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. “Sit down, Lily. We haven’t had much chance to talk lately.”
Lily settled in her usual chair. “We haven’t, have we?”
Mark sagged against the back of the sofa; his arms limp. Closing his eyes, he relaxed for a few moments then the smell of his lunch made his stomach growl and he stood and followed his nose to the stove. The pan was still hot.
"I can get that, Mark."
"No, I'm good. You stay there. I'm tired of being waited on. I'm not entirely crippled."
Lily had already set out a couple of plates, so he just ladled the mixture onto the buns and saw that the hash browns were staying warm in the oven. In a few minutes he had plates ready. He pushed them to the side of the breakfast bar closest to Lily and called her to eat. He turned back and grabbed them each a can of pop out of his newly-stocked fridge.
“Who do I owe for all the food?”
Lily took a bite then wiped her mouth on a napkin. “It came from the petty cash.”
Mark grinned. "I had a feeling."
They ate in silence, and he thought about the night of his abduction. He couldn’t help it. There were so many unanswered questions. “Hey, Lily, how did anyone find me that night? If you told me already, I don’t remember.”
Lily set her fork down. “No, I didn’t get a chance to tell you. You had so much going on at the hospital, with nurses coming in and out so often, the moment was never right.” She paused, dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin, and said, “Jim had a dream. In his dream, he saw what was happening to you. He tried to ignore it, but when you didn't answer your phone, he came here in the middle of the night."
Mark almost choked on his hash browns. He grabbed his drink and gulped down a large mouthful. “Jim had a dream? Like what I have?”
"Sort of, but it wasn't a future dream. It was in real time, as close as we can figure. We didn't know that then. We hoped we'd get to you before what he saw, and what was in the pictures, could actually occur."
"Pictures?"
Lily nodded. "Yes. From your camera."
A dozen questions flew to the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back to allow Lily to finish. "So, then what happened?"
"Well, as soon as Jim got here, he realized something had happened. The place was a mess. The door was wide open, and he called Jessie. It was the middle of the night, of course, but she came right over. After calling the police, they found the camera, and I developed the film at Gary's camera shop. The pictures led us to the warehouse.”
"If I had developed my film that night..." The implications hit him. If only he had followed his usual routine.
Lily's eyes welled. "Yes. That thought has plagued me since I developed the film and we saw the pictures of you." She picked at her meal, her head bent. A tea
r splashed onto the countertop.
"Whoa. Wait a second. You don't think this is your fault, do you?"
She shrugged. "What am I supposed to think? If I hadn't talked you out of developing the film, you'd have seen what would happen, and at least had a chance of preventing it."
"You don't know that." Mark tried to think it through. The timing was all wrong. It was always harder to change the outcome when things happened at night or early morning. If 9/11 had happened at five in the evening instead of early in the day, he might have been able to make a difference there too, but it had been out of his control. "Besides, even if I developed the film, I wouldn't have had time to dream about it. They came for me in the middle of the night."
His heart pounded. Even just thinking about it brought back the terror of that night. He rubbed his temples. "What I want to know is how Jim factored into all of this? It doesn’t make sense. How and why would Jim dream about what had happened—"
"No, it wasn't 'had happened', it's what was happening right then, possibly while he was there. At least, that’s the way I understood it. It was the prayers he heard first.”
“Prayers?”
“Yes. Bits and pieces of prayers.” Lily’s gaze dropped to the top of the breakfast bar for an instant before she took a deep breath and nodded. “Your praying woke him up. It wasn’t until after he was awake that he had the dream or vision of you in the warehouse.”
“How is that possible?” It wasn’t at all what happened when he had his future dreams. While they often felt real, he always had the sensation of waking at the end. It never was the other way around.
Lily’s lips compressed as she slowly shook her head and reached for his hand. “I have a theory.” She bit her lip and closed her other hand over the top of Mark’s, sandwiching his between hers. “I think you reached out to him.”
Mark started, caught by surprise at her comment. “Reached out? What do you mean?”
“I think,” she cocked her head to the side, “that your abilities expanded. You prayed for help, and God, as He does so often, didn’t answer directly, but allowed your plea to be heard by someone. Someone who could then come to your aid.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled, “You reached out to Jim with your mind.”
He yanked his hand out of her grasp. “No way. You’re saying that I somehow sent a message to... Jim?” Shaking his head, he slid off the stool. “That’s like…like mental telepathy. Nope. No way.” He laughed sarcastically. “Lily, I think you’re right about a lot of things, but not this. I’m not some kind of freak.”
She shrugged. “I never said you were a freak. You have a gift. You should embrace it.”
“Some gift. This is more like a curse.” He raked his hand through his hair. “A new sweater is a gift, Lily. A necktie is a gift, but mental telepathy and seeing the future, that’s something else completely. I don’t know what it is, but it sure as hell is not a gift.”
Lily nodded. “Yes, it is. And Mark, I hope someday you'll realize how truly amazing it is. Whatever or whomever controls how the camera and dreams work, did not want you to die that night. You have someone watching out for you.”
Mark backed away from the breakfast bar, shaken by the thought. He was used to the magic that was the camera, but thinking about its origins and why it worked through him was something he tried not to think about. The idea that there could be more magic heading his way terrified him.
* * *
Lily insisted on washing the dishes and put the leftovers away for him to eat later. “Mark, why don’t you rest a bit?”
His bed sported a new navy blue comforter and it looked soft and inviting, but he didn’t feel like lying in bed. It felt weird to do so while Lily still puttered in the kitchen. He noted the new deadbolt on his door and felt a little more secure. After awhile, bored, he put an old Jimmy Stewart movie in the dvd player, and stretched out on the couch. Even though it was one of his favorite movies, he couldn’t concentrate. The commotion outside showed no signs of letting up and he rolled to a sitting position with a sigh, rubbing his stab wound absently.
Shouts and some kind of singing filtered up to his living room, even over the sound of the movie, and he stood and made his way to the window overlooking the street. Down below, in addition to the reporters, a large crowd like the one outside the hospital had formed. A police car was parked out front and its presence instilled a measure of comfort in him. He didn’t know where Kern was or even if he was still after him, but he was at a loss as to why Kern had come after him to begin with.
Mark stepped back when someone below looked up and pointed. The noise intensified and cameras began flashing. Sighing, he turned away and almost bumped into Lily.
“I take it they saw you?" Her lips pursed into a frown.
Glancing over his shoulder at the window, he took a deep breath and said, “Yeah. Lily…how am I gonna do anything with them hanging around?”
She shook her head. “I guess after awhile they’ll get tired of waiting for some kind of ‘sign’ from you and leave. Besides, until you're healed enough to use the camera, you don’t have to worry about it.”
He looked at his bedside table on the far end of the loft. It was empty except for the light and clock radio. "Speaking of the camera, do you know where it is?"
Lily slapped her forehead, her eyes wide. "Shoot. I forgot. It's in the trunk of my car. I can run out to get it if you want."
Mark considered telling her no. He wasn't sure he'd be up to it, but while he hated to admit it, he missed the dreams already. "If you think you can make it past the crowd, that would be great."
"No problem. I'm getting good at ignoring them, plus they think I'm boring. As long as they quit interfering with clients coming to the studio—"
"Wait. What do you mean by 'quit interfering? Has that happened?"
Her face colored as though she had let a secret slip. "It's not a big deal, Mark. Just a few clients called to cancel. They were a little freaked out by the crowd."
"Shit. I'm sorry, Lily. I'll make up the losses. I have some money saved and—"
She put her hands on her hips and interrupted, "You will not! You were upfront with me when we forged this partnership, and I was straight with you when I said I could handle it." Her eyes twinkled as she said, "Besides, for every person who has canceled, about three more have called to make appointments. We're swamped, partner." She grinned at him. "I'll be right back."
A few minutes later, she returned, the camera in hand. "I only had to fend off a dozen of your groupies."
Mark limped from the window where he'd been anxiously watching. "Seriously?" The crowd had stirred about the time Lily would have been outside, but he hadn't been able to see her car from his vantage point.
"No, I'm teasing. What I really wanted to do was give them the finger, but my mother might have seen it on the news."
Mark chuckled as he took the camera from her. He held his breath in anticipation of receiving the jolt of energy that he always got from the device. He waited. After thirty seconds, he frowned. Nothing. The camera didn't thrum or vibrate. It sat cold and lifeless in the palm of his hand.
"What's wrong?"
Mark turned the camera over, making sure it was the right one. Not that he had any that looked like it, but someone might have switched it out if they suspected. He squinted at it, sure it was his camera, but there was no connection. "It doesn't feel right."
"I didn't put any film in it, maybe that's what's wrong."
"I always keep some film in the closet, on the shelf." He tilted his head towards the closet next to the bathroom.
Lily found it and brought it over. Mark fumbled with the latch to get the door open to load the film, balancing the camera on his knees and holding it steady with the fingers of his left hand that poked out of his sling.
"You want me to do it?"
Mark shook his head. "No, I can manage." It took longer than normal, but he loaded the film and then headed towards the window.
It was tricky holding the camera in one hand, but he lifted it and started snapping pictures of the crowd below. The photos would come out crappy, since he was taking them through dusty windows, but he wasn't worried about quality or composition of the photos. What did worry him was the lack of energy flowing from the camera.
Lily followed him, but stopped and leaned against the back of the couch. "Can you ever tell when it's working? Does it feel different when you press the shutter?"
He would have shrugged, but remembered in the nick of time not to. "Usually I can feel something even when I'm only holding it, and maybe it's because of the damage to my hands, but right now, it feels dead."
She made a noise that sounded sympathetic, but he concentrated on trying to get a few shots and didn't respond. He would have preferred to go outside and take photos randomly around town, like he normally did, but it was out of the question today.
When he finished off the roll, he let Lily take it downstairs to develop. There was no need for him to do that part. An hour later, she returned, her expression grim.
He knew the answer before she even told him. "It didn't work, did it?"
She shook her head and held up the photos. They appeared exactly as he'd photographed them. "Look at it this way, Mark. Whomever controls the camera and your dreams probably also realizes that you aren't able to correct anything at the moment."
“I can do stuff now, Lily.” Mark scrubbed a hand down his face, cursing softly when the corner of the dressing scratched his cheek a little. “Maybe not big saves, but I could do something.”
“I’m sure you probably can, but maybe the camera genie feels like you shouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t know why he considered the camera's lack of future photo production as personally directed at him, but he did. How often did he complain about the camera? Daily. Instead of worrying, he should be whooping for joy. What if he was finally done with it? The thought was unsettling. Mark leaned his right elbow on the arm of the couch and rested his head against his hand.
Mark Taylor Omnibus (The Mark Taylor Series) Page 59
