“Hey, I read magazines, thank you,” Carly protested, but felt herself reddening slightly nevertheless. “I do know something about the world.”
“Well, this could have been where someone pays someone else to dress up as a person from their past, so they can play a game—acting out some little scene that turns them on. It can get pretty ugly. Whipping, being whipped, worse, especially when they hated the person.”
“But that involves pretending, a lot of it. I didn’t get the feeling he was pretending. It was like he really thought he was seeing Amanda, like it was a complete surprise.”
“Then let’s go with that. It makes more sense that he was set up, too. So, what number are we on? Five?”
Something to Nick’s left caught her attention. “Six. What’s that?” she asked, pointing. “I can barely make it out, but it looks like a Ferris wheel.”
He glanced over, then said briskly, “Santa Monica Pier. Some fishing, mostly tourists. Lotta kids, lotta drinking on Saturday nights.”
The world through the eyes of a cop, Carly thought, but his next words drew her attention away from the Santa Monica scenery and sent a cold shiver down her spine.
“Okay, six—You. After Demeter was killed, you drifted in and out of reality for the next few hours, most of which was spent with me.”
“Oh, Nick, I’m so glad it was you. Just think what could have happened if someone less—”
“Don’t, Carly.” They pulled up at a red light. Taking his hand off the steering wheel, Nick reached over and took her clenched one in his. “Don’t,” he repeated quietly. “It was me, not someone else. Don’t drive yourself nuts with might-have-beens.”
She met his gaze and nodded. “You’re right. Thank you.”
He surprised her then by bringing their entwined hands to his mouth, turning hers over and kissing her palm. Her flesh tingled from his touch, and she gasped.
“Yeah,” he said in that same breathless tone, and she knew just what that one-word reply meant.
It was still there, always there in the background, that fierce attraction they had toward each other—and it continued to amaze her. In the middle of this nightmare of drugs and gangsters and blood and dead sisters and ex-husbands, she could and did feel outrageously attracted to this man. And, apparently, he felt the same. Amazing.
It was the only bright spot Carly could find, but it was strong enough to make the nightmare bearable.
The light turned green. The car started up and, again, Nick’s voice, all-business once more, broke into her reverie. “Now we’re on seven. Lucky seven. Someone is following you, someone tried to kidnap you at the airport, someone was behind us at the marina this morning. Let’s assume it’s the same person, and let’s also assume this person was closely involved in the whole thing, because you remember his voice as part of your blackout period and from the airport. Question—Who is he? And why is he still after you?”
“Because I know something?”
“Or because he thinks you can ID someone, maybe him. Or, there could be something else that we have no information on at the moment.”
“Wonderful,” she said grimly.
“Hey, that’s how it works. You lay out what you know, then you start filling in the missing pieces. So, what have I forgotten?”
“Richard’s death,” she said quietly.
“Yeah.” Offering an apologetic grimace, he said, “sorry, I know he was once important to you, but he’s still scum, as far as I’m concerned. Okay, eight—Richard is dead, so that source of information is dead, too. Is there anyone he would have told about this? A good friend?”
“I don’t think so. He didn’t have many friends.”
Nick turned the car into the parking lot of a tall medical building, grabbed the automatic ticket and drove down a long, crowded row of parked cars. “He was killed sometime between midnight on Saturday—when Demeter was killed—and we don’t know how many hours later. So we have two dead bodies, a woman with a blackout and a man following her.”
“Do you think...?” It was hard to treat any of this, but especially her ex-husband’s murder, so dispassionately, but Carly made the attempt. “I mean, was Richard’s death part of the plan or incidental? Was my suicide setup part of the plan or incidental? Was Demeter’s death part of the plan or incidental?”
“And how do we make sure everyone knows you’re innocent?” He maneuvered the car into a space. Again, he looked in his rearview mirror as he turned off the ignition. “The man who followed you, he’s the key. I haven’t seen him since he took off. I wonder where he went.”
Dr. Neil Mishkin was in his early forties, medium height and slim, with thinning hair, thick glasses and the nicest smile Carly had ever seen on a doctor. On his office desk stood a silver-framed portrait of himself, a petite brunette and three young boys with the same smile. She relaxed with him immediately.
Nick, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. Neil had insisted on giving Carly a full physical examination before deciding if hypnotherapy was called for, and had also insisted that Nick wait in the reception area. Instead, while Carly was being poked and probed, he found a pay phone and called a reporter he knew and set up a meeting. Then he returned to the waiting room and flipped through magazine after magazine without registering a thing he read.
Apart from his concern about Carly, he couldn’t escape a nagging sense that he needed to hurry. A murderer was on the loose, Carly was in danger, and Nick wanted answers—now. When, finally, the female receptionist told him he could go into the doctor’s office, he leaped up so quickly, one of the other patients who had been dozing jumped with surprise.
“Sorry,” Nick said, and followed the crisp white uniform to Neil’s office. The doctor was alone, seated at his desk, a file spread out in front of him, when Nick entered. “Where’s Carly?”
“Changing.”
“Thanks for seeing her on such short notice, Neil,” he said.
Dr. Mishkin waved away the gratitude. “Don’t worry about it. Sit down, won’t you.” He had a precise, formal way of speaking, one that belied his basically friendly nature. “Ms. Terry said it was all right to fill you in on what I’ve already told her. I take it you two are quite close friends.”
Nick smiled. It had been the quickest close friendship in history. “Yeah, you could say that.” He lowered himself onto a chair that faced the doctor, but leaned in eagerly, too keyed-up to sit back. “So?”
“According to Ms. Terry, she’s pretty sure she was given a drug on Friday night, and has suffered a memory blackout. From her description of symptoms, it’s possible she was given an illegal version of Rohypnol or gamma hydroxybutyrate.”
“‘Roofies’ or ‘Scoop,’” Nick said, using the street words. The rape pills. His jaw tightened.
“Yes.” The doctor consulted his notes. “There has been recent intercourse, a little soreness in the genital area, but no signs of forced penetration or violence. Also, there’s no spermatozoa present, so either there was no completion or he was wearing a condom.”
“He was. It was me.”
The doctor glanced up from his file and said with a small smile, “So she said.”
“Are there signs that anyone...other than me, I mean...” Nick shrugged.
“Had intercourse with her? It can’t be ruled out. In a mature woman, without sperm samples, it’s impossible to tell how many partners she might have had recently.”
“So, we still don’t have an answer on that.”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
The office door opened and Carly entered, sliding into the seat next to Nick. He glanced at her to see if she was all right; she gave a small smile that signaled she was. Then she folded her hands on her lap in that way she had of wanting to appear self-possessed.
Nick turned his attention back to the doctor. “Go on.”
“I drew blood. The lab will test it for all the known narcotics, although the drugs I mentioned leave the body pretty quickly.”
<
br /> “When will you get the results?”
“Preliminary toxicology should be in by tomorrow morning. I’ve put a rush on it.” Picking up a piece of paper, Neil read again. “Her heart is fine, her blood pressure is slightly elevated, but she assures me it’s usually normal, so we can assume that’s due to the recent stress she’s been under. Her memory, while spotty, seems to be returning. Basically, she is in good health.”
“What about hypnosis? You know, to help it along. That’s what I thought you would be doing.”
The doctor steepled his hands and looked from Nick to Carly and back again. “It’s not always reliable. It’s preferable, and less traumatic for the patient, if the memory returns on its own.”
“Dr. Mishkin thinks I should wait a couple of days,” Carly told Nick.
He scowled. “We may not have a couple of days.”
“Oh?” The doctor raised an eyebrow. “No one has contacted me from your precinct. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was a time element operating.”
“Let’s say this is more of an unofficial request,” Nick said. “But it’s still an emergency.”
The doctor studied him, then nodded. “Tomorrow, possibly. Ms. Terry has already recalled a lot of what happened. If her blackout period was actually a drug-induced coma, she might never remember anything else.”
“But do you think I’ll be okay?” Carly asked, folding and unfolding her hands on her lap. “Will there be any lasting damage?”
“Doubtful, but we’ll have to wait for the test results to determine that.”
Nick scowled again, drumming his restless fingers on the arm of his chair. “So, we don’t know a hell of a lot more than we did when we came in.”
“Nick.” Carly placed a restraining hand on his arm, as though to keep him from jumping out of his seat.
“Some things take more time than others, Nick.” Dr. Mishkin’s smile was understanding. “I wish it could be otherwise.” He rose from his desk chair. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a waiting room full...”
Carly stood and offered her hand. “Thank you so much.”
He shook it, then studied her. “I recommend you do something to take your mind off this—walk, go to a movie. Better yet, get some sunshine. The brain is an amazing organ, it prefers to heal itself.”
Carly sat in Nick’s car, watching him as he slid into the driver’s seat, overcome by a sense of gratitude...but more than that, a closeness, a connectedness to this man. The sensation was unfamiliar to her, but it churned up her emotions all over again, bringing a tightness to her throat and chest.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?” He glanced up as he was putting his key in the ignition. She could see by the way his forehead was creased that he was frustrated by the doctor visit and its nonanswers. His shoulders were tight with tension.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “From the bottom of my heart. Being examined by a doctor was the intelligent thing to do, of course, and I’ve been in such a state it was the furthest thing from my mind. So, thank you for insisting on it. And it was...so good having you there. I still don’t have a lot of answers, but somehow I feel less terrified.”
It was true—her predicament hadn’t changed, and she might still face a rocky road ahead, but that sense of being alone with her fears was over. She had been so atone—and so afraid—most of her life.
One side of his mouth quirked up. “You feel better? Really?” he said distractedly, then seemed to actually focus on her. He shifted in his seat so he faced her. His gaze roamed all over her face, and he smiled. “You do look a hell of a lot more relaxed. What an amazing change.” He reached out and stroked her hair, then cupped her cheek. “You’ve really been through it, haven’t you?”
The gentleness of his touch made her pulse quicken. She brought her hand up to cover his. Then, as though he were a magnet and she a piece of metal, she leaned into him, setting her elbow on the armrest. The feeling of his flesh against hers, warming her, was like something almost mystical—a transfusion of his strength. “It doesn’t seem so bad now.”
“Good,” he said quietly, but made no other move.
“Please,” she said.
“Please what?”
“Please kiss me.” She hadn’t planned to say that, but when his mouth covered hers—gently this time, softly, not with the aggressiveness she associated with him—it felt so right.
Her lips parted for him and he groaned, shifting the angle of their mouths so he could delve into hers more deeply. But still he kept the kiss gentle, and she was grateful. He seemed to know it wasn’t hot, raw sex she wanted right now.
On the other hand... The lovely soft pressure of his mouth and tongue created sensations in the rest of her body that were just as arousing, in a subtler way. In truth, everything about Nick was arousing, and she might as well face it.
When she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him harder, he responded with another groan. The kiss deepened until their breaths mingled in short, hot gasps.
Carly was the one who broke away—she needed air. The expression she saw on Nick’s face must have reflected her own—equal parts wonder and passion.
“Man,” he said, breathing heavily. “Talk about timing.”
He frowned as though disappointed, and started the car. “Let’s go.”
“Where to?” Dizzy with sensation, Carly managed to fasten her seat belt as he backed out of the parking space.
“My place.”
She felt her mouth fall open with surprise. “Now?”
“Huh?” He chuckled. “I wish.” With another glance in his rearview mirror, he pulled into the aisle and headed for the exit. “No. I’m locking you in so you’ll be safe. I’ll get someone to come stay with you.”
Her euphoric dizziness disappeared immediately. “No.”
“Hey. You said you’d take direction from me.”
“If it was reasonable.” Her heart thumped loudly, but her senses remained sharp. “This is not reasonable. This is my mess, not yours, and I want to be part of getting myself out of it.”
He pulled the Camaro into an empty slot and slammed the gear into Park. “Listen, if that guy is following you—”
“Is he?”
“Not so far as I can tell, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in danger. He could have accomplices. We have no idea who we’re dealing with. I’ll feel a lot better if you’re behind a locked door.”
“Where will you be?”
“Out in the field, working on the case, doing footwork.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her jaw out. “I’ll feel a lot safer with you than without you, Nick, that’s the truth. So, you’re not getting rid of me.”
At first he glared at her; then his expression turned troubled. “You’re putting a hell of a lot on me, Carly,” he said.
“Am I?” She was instantly contrite. “I don’t mean to.”
“Hey, I’m only human.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m a good cop, got a pretty good brain, but I’m not some all-powerful cartoon hero. I can’t promise to keep you safe.”
“I haven’t asked for promises, just to stay with you.” A deep surge of emotion made her bite her lip to keep it from taking her over. She felt her eyes filling, but managed to say, “I’m a little claustrophobic, I guess. I don’t want to be locked up.” Her voice shook; she couldn’t help it. “In your apartment, in jail, anywhere.”
She took a couple more deep breaths, swiped under her eyes in case any of the tears had escaped, then faced front again, focusing her attention on whatever blurry object was beyond the windshield. “So,” she said with determination, “now that we’re not going back to your place, where are we going?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick shake his head either in exasperation or reluctant admiration, or both. “Man, when you start to develop teeth, you really start using them, don’t you?” He put the car into reverse and backed out of the space. “All right,” he sa
id. “Here’s the next part of my plan—it’s time you got to see again.”
On Main Street in Venice, Nick took Carly to an instant eyeglass place where she was given an exam, tried on frames, chose the cheapest ones she could find and was told to return in two hours.
“I thought this was a one-hour place,” Nick complained to the clerk, a curly-headed young man busily snapping gum.
“We’re backed up.”
He gazed around; they were the only customers in the place. “Make it an hour,” he said. “I’ll pay extra.”
“Listen, mister—”
He flashed his badge and said confidentially, “We need this young woman to ID a lineup ASAP.”
The clerk stopped chewing and stood up straight “Yessir, you got it.”
“The perks of power.” Carly chuckled as they left the store.
“If you got it, flaunt it”
Neil Mishkin had said Carly should get some sunshine, and the weather had cooperated. If it wasn’t for the fact that Nick had to keep looking over his shoulder at every moment, he might have enjoyed a stroll along Main Street with Carly. But strolling wasn’t the smart thing to do—it made them too much of a target.
He guided her down the street, one hand on her back, checking out their surroundings at all times. As they were passing a large used-clothing store named Aardvark’s Odd Ark, Carly stopped and peered into the window. Nick stood behind her, his attention drawn by a coat that seemed to be made of fake polar bear fur.
“I love places like this,” Carly said happily. “I’m a thrift-shop junkie. You can find the most amazing bargains.” She squinted at a dress that looked to Nick like something out of an old Sandra Dee movie.
“Come on.” He took her elbow. “Let’s get you something new.”
“But old clothing is much more fun.”
“I hate shopping,” he grumbled.
Angling her head, she grinned at him. “You really are a typical male, aren’t you?”
“I sincerely hope so.” He grunted. “Okay, let’s go in.”
While She Was Sleeping Page 17
