by Meryl Sawyer
Thankfully she was the only one on the small boat. She didn’t have it in her to make meaningless conversation today.
She got off the shuttle and looked for the golf cart that Trevor usually kept nearby, but it was gone. She set off on the brick path, anxious to get home and call Trevor for an update on Matt’s condition. To the side was the house Irene and Dexxter had rented.
The place appeared to be deserted. The mangled railing on the upper level deck hadn’t been fixed. Drawn by morbid curiosity, she moved closer. On the lush grass facing the sea was the chalk outline of a body.
What had Bubbles said? Splat! Well, that did describe it. Dexx had landed with each arm and leg pointed in a different direction, like a human starfish.
“Could Irene have killed him?” she mumbled to herself, staring at the chalk outline.
It didn’t seem possible. The woman had been head-over-heels crazy about Dexxter, and they’d been together since they were kids. Still, people did strange things sometimes. She would never have suspected Matt would deliberately deceive her about the seriousness of the surgery.
She turned to go. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought one of the blades of the plantation shutters moved. The fine hair across the back of her neck stood at attention.
Having already been to hell—and back—she wasn’t afraid of Irene, but she didn’t want any trouble right now. She had to concentrate on Matt. Maybe she should let the FBI know she had returned to Half Moon Bay.
She hurried across the island and found the front door, which faced the center of the island, unlocked as usual. “Bubbles? Are you here?”
No one answered, so she walked to the message center. No one had left a note, and there weren’t any messages on the machine. She called the hospital.
“I’m working on Emily,” Trevor said when he came to the telephone. “She’s every bit as stubborn as her brother. She thinks you’ve conned me. I’m going to need a little more time.”
She agreed to call him again before returning to the hospital. If Emily wasn’t convinced then, well, too bad. She was going to go back any way.
Even though the line might not be secure, she dialed Scott Phillips’s room at the Pier Hotel. No one answered.
Out on the terrace she saw Jiggs swimming offshore. “Jiggs. Jiggs. Here, boy.”
It appeared that he’d caught himself a Styrofoam cooler. He was swimming for all he was worth, towing the darn thing.
“You have to wonder what goes through his mind.”
She sat on the grass where she and Matt had made love the first time and where they’d spent the previous night. “Please, God, spare him. I’ll do anything. I would even become The Beast again, if you’ll let him live.”
She drew in a sharp breath of air that was thick with sunshine and the loaminess of the tropics. Who needed nature intruding right now? She wanted to caress his rough cheeks and savor the prickles of his emerging beard. She wanted him back, where he belonged, with her.
But he wasn’t here. All she might ever have of him was a memory.
She’d been alone for so long that she honestly believed she knew the depths of despair. How wrong she’d been. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. The fierce, heartbreaking emptiness of life without Matt spoke to what was already hollow and empty and lonely within her soul. She had suffered before, but this time, having known love, it was going to be unimaginably worse.
On her back now, she gazed up at the sun. Clive had said there was nothing she could do except pray. “Please, God, spare Matthew, please.”
Like a mantra, she said the words over and over. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of the telephone broke into her thoughts. As she raced for the house, she saw Jiggs had wrestled the cooler onto the sand and was out in the water again.
By the time she reached the telephone, the answering machine was taking a very frantic message. “This is Paws ’N Claws. Bingo must be picked up immediately.”
“Hello. Is Bingo giving you a problem?”
The woman released an exasperated sigh. “He will not shut up. He keeps hissing and spitting and throwing himself against the side of the cage.”
“No one can come get him right now. Maybe—”
“Someone has to get him. Unless he calms down, the doctor says he’ll injure himself even more.”
“Can’t you give him a shot of something?”
“Bingo is so full of medication that the doctor is concerned about an overdose. Can’t someone take him home? Cats are much more comfortable in familiar surroundings.”
Inwardly she groaned as she checked her watch. It would be a long time before Matt came out of surgery. She could get Bingo and be back at the hospital before the surgery was over. Bingo was Trevor’s favorite. Bringing the big tom home was the least she could do.
“I’ll be right over.”
After she’d brought Bingo home, she would immediately return to the hospital. By then Trevor should have talked to Emily, and Matt would be close to coming out of surgery.
Why did people sit at the hospital—waiting? she asked herself. People knew surgery would take hours, yet they waited and waited. She supposed it was a way of being with someone in spirit, even if they didn’t know you were there.
Feeling guilty for deserting Matt, she rushed down to the beach. This was something constructive she could do, she told herself. She owed it to Trevor. Still, she didn’t like not being near Matt.
What if something happened and she wasn’t there?
She rushed across the island to catch the shuttle. The boat was pulling away, but the captain saw her coming and waited.
“Hey, Shelly.”
She looked up, realizing her thoughts had drifted. They were across the channel, pulling into the Sunset Dock. Kyle was standing on the platform, waiting for the water shuttle.
“Kyle, hi there.”
He didn’t know about Matt, and she wasn’t certain she could explain the situation without bursting into tears. He helped her off the boat.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m picking up Bingo for Trevor. The cat had an accident, but now he’s driving them nuts at the vet’s.”
“I’ll help you.” He took her elbow and guided her up the ramp. “What happened to Bingo?”
“We think he fell out of the palm tree. In the middle of the night, Jiggs started howling and we found Bingo on the terrace. His sternum had been shattered, not broken, but shattered.”
“Shattered? That’s weird.” Kyle flagged down a rickie and they got in. “Cats are so agile, especially Bingo. He’s a born hunter.”
“There was an odd mark on his fur too. Like a burn.”
Kyle studied her in that intent way of his. “It sounds like someone hit him with a stun gun.”
“There wasn’t anyone around except Jiggs.”
“You may not have seen the person.”
“How do you know so much about weapons? I wouldn’t know a stun gun if I saw one.”
Kyle shrugged and she knew he wasn’t going to divulge any information about his job. “A stun gun looks like a regular gun except it has a fatter barrel. It delivers a jolt of electricity that immobilizes a person.”
“Why would anyone on Sunset Key have a stun gun?”
The darkness seemed never ending, but it was a comforting darkness, like being inside a cocoon. The pitch blackness was warm, not hot, just pleasantly warm. He heard voices, but they seemed to be coming through water or layers of thick fabric.
Not one word made sense.
Don’t fight it, said some inner voice. He let himself drift along. Minutes, hours, or, maybe, days slipped by as he hovered in the darkness, suspended in time.
“Matt, can you hear me?”
Inwardly, he smiled. That was his mother’s voice. No, of course, it wasn’t his mother. Unless he was in heaven.
The thought jolted him, and he tried to open his eyes, but his lids seemed to be sealed shut. He was trapped in
a dark void that couldn’t possibly be heaven.
The operation!
The last thing he remembered was hugging Trevor. Had he made it through the surgery? Could he possibly be so lucky?
“Matt, listen to me.”
Ah, not his mother. His sister, Emily was talking to him, and although the words were softly spoken, her voice had an edge to it.
Something was wrong.
He tried to speak, but couldn’t find his voice. His tongue was thick and as dry as old newsprint. He gave up and drifted off into Never-Never Land again.
Time blurred as he coasted along, aware of voices, but not quite hearing what was being said. Slowly, he awoke by degrees, realizing …
HE HAD SURVIVED!
He had a mild headache, but he was blissfully alive. Thank you, God.
“Matthew, do you hear me?”
A slight German accent. The voice must belong to Dr. Dietz. Matt struggled, finally managing to crack one lid, then the other. The light blinded him, and he snapped his eyes shut for a moment. When he ventured to open them again, he saw Clive and Dr. Dietz hovering over him.
“Do you understand what we’re saying?” Clive asked.
He croaked out, “Yes.”
“It looks as if you’re fine,” the doctor said with undisguised pride.
“We’re going to test your reactions,” Clive said. “Just to be sure you’re functioning normally.”
They pinched his toe and tapped his knee. Then they had him count backward from twenty-five. Yes, he knew the capital of Finland. Helsinki.
“Good, very good,” said the doctor.
“I can’t believe it,” Clive said. “I wasn’t sure.”
Matt raised his hand. “That makes two of us, buddy.”
“You’re going to be able to go home tomorrow,” Clive added with a smile.
“If we were in Germany, he could go home today,” the doctor informed them.
“Hey, I’m ready,” Matt said.
“Hold it. This is my clinic.” Clive looked very concerned. “You’ve just had surgery. The medication hasn’t worn off yet.”
“We didn’t use much medication. It wasn’t necessary. I performed the surgery with the patient in the upright position.” The doctor was getting a little huffy with Clive. “There is no swelling the way there would be with conventional surgery.”
“I know. I know,” Clive said, “but Matt is a good friend of mine. Let’s be cautious.” He turned to Matt. “I want to get you up and walking. Then we’ll give you a light meal. After a good night’s sleep, I’ll release you first thing in the morning.”
“Okay,” Matt agreed. “I want to see Shelly now.”
“I have a plane to catch,” Dr. Dietz said.
“Doctor, how can I thank you?” To his chagrin, his voice had a slight rasp, and he had to swallow twice to get rid of the damn lump in his throat. “You gave me back my life.”
“You’re living proof that my method works. Digital computer images of the brain—during microsurgery—will become standard in the future. It’s less invasive, less damaging. Tomorrow you won’t even know you had an operation.”
“Great. Thanks again,” Matt said, realizing just how inadequate words were.
“What time is it?” he asked, noticing dusk was falling outside the fancy room.
“It’s six-thirty,” Clive told him. “Trevor and Emily are getting coffee. We tried to wake you earlier, but you weren’t ready. I’ll get them.”
“Where’s Shelly?”
Clive shrugged and waited while Dr. Dietz left the room before answering. “She realized you’d lied to her, and she was terribly upset. Then Emily accused her of … killing you by persuading you to undergo this procedure. Trevor sent Shelly back to Half Moon Bay. She called to check on you. She should be here soon.”
He didn’t like Shelly being out there all alone. Until they knew what the transmitter had picked up, they couldn’t be sure Irene wasn’t dangerous.
Chapter 36
The sun was setting on paradise as Kyle paid the private water taxi to drive them directly to Half Moon Bay rather than taking the island’s shuttle to Sunset Key’s main dock. Getting Bingo had taken much longer than she’d anticipated, but then, she had never encountered a mob scene like the Fantasy Fest, which was in full swing.
Key West’s streets had been clogged with people—most of them well on their way to being drunk—dressed in costumes. The Fantasy Fest was said to rival Mardi Gras, but she wasn’t in the mood for it. There wasn’t a rickie available coming or going. They had to walk the entire length of the island, dodging hordes of revelers.
Getting Bingo had taken twice as long as she’d anticipated. She should have been at the hospital waiting for news. She’d called the clinic and learned he was still in the recovery room but hadn’t regained consciousness. They wouldn’t know if the operation was a success until he was awake. No matter what Emily thought, she had to get back there right away. She’d already wasted too much time.
“Jee-zus! Let that cat out,” Kyle said the moment they were on the dock.
Bingo had howled nonstop since they put him in the carrier at Paws ’N Claws. It had taken two trained techs to do it, and both of them had gotten scratched in the process.
“Jiggs, Jiggs,” she called as she unlatched the cat carrier. “Look who’s here.”
Like a vest, a thick plaster cast encased the top part of Bingo’s body. His legs were free as was his head, but his chest was encased. He lumbered out of the carrier, staggering like a drunk at the Fantasy Fest.
“At least he’s shut up,” Kyle said.
Jiggs hit the decking full speed and scampered up to the cat. He slammed to a stop, almost skidding into Bingo. Jiggs gave Bingo a sloppy drubbing with his tongue. The two of them ambled off together.
“Doesn’t that beat all?” Kyle said.
“It’s just plain weird.” She had to get to a telephone and check Matt’s condition. She’d been so heartsick that she hadn’t mentioned it to Kyle. She rushed toward the house and he followed her.
“Where is everyone?” Kyle asked.
“Bubbles met some new guy,” she hedged, still not feeling like discussing Matt. “I’d offer you a drink, but I’ve got to run.”
Kyle gave her a strange look. “You’re not going back into Key West, are you? It gets pretty rowdy after dark during Fantasy Fest.”
“No. I’m going out to the Bel Aire Clinic.”
“Okay,” he said as he paused at the fork in the brick path. “Catch you later.”
“Thanks for helping me,” she called over her shoulder, not breaking her stride. She had to find out Matt’s condition. She’d been gone much longer than she had anticipated. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Kyle.”
She raced into the house and went right to the message center to see if Trevor had called. The light wasn’t blinking. There was a folded piece of paper with her name on it. She didn’t recognize the writing. Unfolding it, she read the message.
Matthew Jensen died without regaining consciousness.
“Oh, my God! No! Tell me it isn’t true.”
She grabbed the phone, then realized she didn’t know the clinic’s number to verify the message. A few moments later, information gave her the number. The line was busy.
She dropped the receiver into the cradle. Why bother? The hospital would only reconfirm the message. The odds had been heavily against Matt. Only a miracle could have saved him.
It’s all your fault.
She didn’t know the tears were coming until they streamed down her cheeks. Choking back sobs, she wandered out to the terrace and stared at the deepening shadows. The sun had already set—no doubt, in a blaze of glory—and the breeze was nothing more than a cat’s paw of wind, gusting through the palms.
Sadness too deep for tears pierced her soul. Suddenly, paradise didn’t seem so beautiful. Instead, it was nothing more than a boundless sweep of blue water and blue sky. A vast,
empty world.
Lonely.
There was no turning back the hands of time, but locked in her memory was an image of Matt, the way he’d been the first time she’d seen him, sitting beside her bed. Strange, she’d been a little frightened of him. He’d saved her, and she had repaid him by encouraging him to undergo an operation that ended his life even sooner than necessary.
How was she going to live with herself?
She stood there, silently crying, sad and frustrated and angry with herself. In the house she heard the telephone ringing. She didn’t even consider answering it. What was left to say?
If you dropped dead tomorrow, I’d dance on your grave.
Her heartless words returned to haunt her. How could she have been so cruel? Matt had known he was dying when she’d carelessly taunted him. How could she live with herself?
She wandered the beach until the tears finally stopped. Her whole body seemed drained, a hollow, empty shell. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to walk back up to the house.
Did it matter where she went or what she did?
She sat down on the grass where she and Matt had made love. Raucous music, a mixture of reggae, country, and heavy metal, blasted across the water. Duval Street’s clubs were noisier than usual, celebrating the Fantasy Fest with live bands, each of them trying to out do the other.
Life went on, but she couldn’t imagine it going on for her. The future had seemed so bright, but now …
“Yip! Yip-yip!”
Jiggs barked frantically, the way he had the night of Bingo’s accident. She heaved herself to her feet and walked up to the house. Hungry cats bounded up to her, rubbing against her legs. When she flipped on the lights, Jiggs was standing by the pantry door, barking.
“Hush. I’m here. What’s wrong?”
A quick peek inside the pantry revealed Bingo wedged between a huge bag of kibble and the wall. He’d evidently underestimated his new size with the plaster cast on his torso. She moved the bag, then picked him up.
“Raiding the pantry is out of the question, big guy”
She held him with both arms, realizing just how much weight the cast added. Thank heavens Kyle had carried him across the island. Nearly stumbling over the circling cats, she noticed a piece of paper on the center island.
