by Debra Webb
And where the hell were the generators? He could hear alarms and sirens, even shouts from the staff caught in the morgue, but he didn’t hear generators.
The timing of Trey’s return and today’s visit wasn’t coincidental. With his knee in Trey’s back, he eased the jacket off his head and reached for the mask once more. He’d take a picture with his phone and then the authorities would have something to work with.
His hand closed over his phone, but he didn’t get it out of his pocket before he heard another footfall behind him. He twisted around, unable to hang on to his prisoner and still avoid an attack. A hard blow landed against his head.
David fell back, covering his head against another blow as lights danced across his vision, if not the corridor. He struggled to his knees, desperate to catch one of the men responsible for cutting off the power supply. He heard the clang of metal and the slap of the security bar on the stairwell door. His best effort wasn’t going to be enough. He swore as the two men reached the stairwell before he could regain his footing.
* * *
UPSTAIRS, TERRI WAS making her final rounds with patients. In less than an hour she’d hand off the ward to the next shift. Most days the end-of-shift tasks gave her a sense of pride and accomplishment. Today, she couldn’t drum up as much enthusiasm. She felt like the worst sort of hypocrite because she was eager to go visit Franklin’s patient but had no desire to go home and talk to her brother, who’d been missing for months.
She glanced at the beautiful flowers on the desk, wishing for some guarantee that Trey would keep his mouth shut about her social life. The fact that he didn’t have the right to say anything never seemed to stop him. On a sigh, she took a picture with her phone. She had the card David had written in her pocket. It might be a silly cop-out, but she’d print the snapshot and put it on her vanity mirror with the card as a reminder her moody brother couldn’t tarnish. She didn’t want Trey to have one more excuse to avoid the real issue of where he’d been all this time and what he planned to do next.
Suddenly the power went out and the ward went silent. For a few seconds no one spoke, and then voices—some scared, others reassuring—filled the void. They had plenty of afternoon light pouring through the windows and she counted that a blessing as she shifted into the emergency protocol.
They didn’t have any crisis patients. The biggest concerns, if the outage lasted any length of time, would be keeping the powered cooling packs going and the children calm.
Terri called out to the rest of her staff and got the visual and verbal assurance they were all okay. “Generators should be up shortly,” she said as she walked along. “Get everyone into their rooms. We have batteries for IV pumps and you all know how to do vitals the old-school way.”
They disappeared in a flurry of action while she returned to the desk. She picked up a phone to call security, forgetting it wasn’t battery operated. She reached for the radio, instead, hoping to hear something helpful. What she heard was chaos.
Turning down the volume, she decided her ward wouldn’t contribute to the overwhelmed security and support staff. The benefit of a pediatric ward was the cheerful decor and the upbeat attitude. And the low crisis risk, she added when she heard alarms sounding on the floor above them. Fear clogged her throat for a moment when she remembered that Franklin’s research ward and special patient were up there.
Where the hell were the generators?
She made another circuit, reassuring parents and patients that the power glitch would be resolved quickly and no evacuation order had been issued. If she had any kind of good luck, she’d get a report from Security before one of the children or parents picked up a rumor on their cell phones.
Her luck held up, as did her patients, with a good dose of humor and understanding. Still, it was the longest two hours of her professional life before the ward started to hum again with computers and equipment as the power was gradually restored to each floor. She was rebooting their system when the elevators started functioning and someone from Security appeared along with the next shift of nurses.
“We’re all set,” she said to the guard. “Do you have any idea what happened?”
“It’s not clear yet,” he said, pitching his voice low. “I’m here about your car.”
“My car?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned an iPad her way, and she gasped at the picture. “Several cars were vandalized during the power outage.”
Remembering where she was, Terri bit back the colorful curse on the tip of her tongue. “Great. Do I need to file a police report?”
“We have that started for you downstairs. Please stop by the security desk on your way home.”
“I will. Thank you.” Somehow, she managed to get through the shift change without giving in to the primal urge to scream in frustration. How was she going to get home?
It wasn’t easy to stay calm as she stood at the security desk trying to figure out the next step. Her car was part of a collective crime scene. Once the crime team was done, the vehicles would be available to be claimed for repairs. Sometime tomorrow. Maybe. Terri rolled her shoulders, trying to shed some of the building tension. In her case, she needed two new tires, a new side mirror and a new rear bumper. The pictures of such senseless damage shocked her.
“They don’t have any suspects?”
The guard shook his head. “The guy dodged the camera angles. Should I call a cab for you?”
“No, thanks. I’ll call my...” She pulled out her phone and started dialing before she remembered she didn’t have a valid number for her brother. The cell phone she’d been paying for had been left in his dorm room with his other personal belongings. She started to dial the house phone, then stopped. This was an emotional no-win situation. If he didn’t answer, she’d be irritated with him for not waiting for her at the house. If he did answer, what could he do? He didn’t have a car. Even if he found a way to help her out, she’d be opening herself up for heartache as soon as he left again. “Please call a cab.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll take her home.”
Terri swiveled around at the sound of David’s voice. His easy smile radiated calm and confidence. Two things she needed extra doses of at the moment.
“If that’s okay with you?” he asked, patting her gently on the shoulder. “I saw your car on the police report.”
“You did?” How had he heard before she did?
“They mentioned your car and I was concerned,” he said. “Ready?”
“More than.” As much as she loved her job, she was ready for her forty-eight hours off. “It’s been a tough day.” And it wasn’t over. Trey would be waiting for her at home.
She wanted to believe that would go well, but after the past few hours, she was more exhausted than she’d been last night. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t get any worthwhile rest until she pried a few answers out of Trey.
“Th-thanks.” Her keys rattled in her trembling hand. She dropped them into her purse.
“Do you want to wait here? I can pick you up.”
She shook her head. “I need the walk.” Now that she didn’t have to hold it together for the patients, her reactions were getting the better of her. She needed to get out of the building quickly.
“That works.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Let’s roll.”
As they moved through the door, the light hit him, and she noticed his puffy cheek. Her jaw sagged. There were two stitches visible at the edge of his hairline. “What happened to you?”
He gave her a gusty sigh. “The blackout didn’t work in my favor. Turns out I can’t see in the dark without night-vision goggles.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said with an exaggerated wink. “The stitches are fake. A sympathy gag.”
“Is that so?” She didn’t believe him for a minute, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it.
“Is it working?”
“Maybe a little.” She smiled up at him. “Did they give
you a sticker?” The air outside carried the scent of the harbor. It felt clean and rejuvenating as she breathed in deep. She’d been considering spending her two days off in Asheville for a little holiday snow and cheer. Maybe Trey would go with her. Neutral territory might be exactly what they needed. Leaving him home alone wasn’t an option, no matter how much he appeared to have matured.
“I asked for a lollipop.” His quick grin flashed and faded. “How bad was it for you?”
“It could’ve been worse,” she admitted. News had traveled quickly through the hospital that two nurses on Franklin’s floor were injured by unknown assailants during the blackout. “We didn’t have any real problems.” She slid into the passenger seat when they reached his car.
“Where are the flowers?” he asked as he started the car.
She closed her eyes and let her head drop back. “I left them on the desk.” Though she’d meant to, now it seemed like the weak move. If Trey couldn’t deal with David sending her flowers, that was his problem. If this afternoon’s outburst was any indication, he’d find something to complain about regardless. “My brain is scattered. I’ll go back.” She started to open her door, but he stopped her with a light touch on her arm.
“Hang on. I’ll send a text and one of the guys at the desk can bring them out.”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “You seem to have friends everywhere.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Of course not. I’m just admiring the skill.”
His text message sent, he backed out of the parking space and shot her a look. “You have friends.”
“True.” And she wondered if her friend Franklin had followed through on his friendly threat to have a word with David. It felt rude to ask outright and she was more curious about his injuries. “What do you think caused the blackout?”
David shook his head. “I’d hate to guess. I only know about the rogue wall that attacked me.”
She appreciated how his humor eased her mind. “All of the walls and corners on our floor behaved,” she said as he pulled to a stop at the main entrance. “We had a few tears and upset mamas, but the windows and sunshine worked in our favor.”
“That’s good.” He peered beyond her to the big glass doors. “There you go.”
She opened her door and thanked David’s friend for bringing her flowers down. When she was settled, the vase secure between her feet, she turned to him. “Thank you so much. They kept me smiling all day.”
“I’m glad.” He leaned closer, as though he wanted to kiss her. She wanted that, too. Instead, he patted her hand and put the car in gear. “Have you ever been through a power outage like that before?”
She shook her head, wondering about the status of Franklin’s staff. She’d sent him a text message, but he hadn’t responded. “Usually the generators kick in right away.” To distract herself, she shared the one comical spot in the crisis. “One of the teenagers threatened to sue for breach of trust and mental anguish.”
“You’re kidding.”
Terri laughed softly. “I wish. It was quite a rant. He was gaming when the power died and he said we’d violated the inferred promise of the game as a stress reliever and aid in healing.”
“Good grief. Let me guess, only child of trial lawyers.”
“No. I think he’s a drama major. He’s certainly good at improvisation. He made Suzette laugh, and that wasn’t an easy task this afternoon.”
“Why not?”
Terri sighed. Why hadn’t she quit when she was ahead? “Apparently, Suzette saw Trey before I did this afternoon. She’s not his biggest fan.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“It is?”
“Sure,” David said, changing lanes to take the exit to their neighborhood. “She’s your best friend and from what you said last night, he hasn’t been the best of brothers lately.”
“This is true.” Terri dropped her head back against the seat. “I appreciate her protective streak.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Why?”
“Because I have one, too,” David said.
“That’s...” Her voice trailed off as she watched his knuckles go white on the steering wheel. He had strong hands with long fingers and odd tan lines from the gloves he wore for various outdoor sports. She looked closer, noticing the scrapes on his knuckles. It looked like a classic fistfight injury. “Did the wall fight back?”
He shifted in his seat, but there was nowhere for him to hide his banged-up hand. “No, the desk tried to horn in on the action.”
“I don’t believe you,” she blurted, thinking about his knowledge of the police report. “What happened to you in the blackout?”
“Nothing too bad.” He shifted again, this time stretching his battered hand on his thigh. “Really,” he assured her as he made the turn into their neighborhood. “Do you need a ride to work in the morning?”
“I’m off,” she replied. “Though I might need a ride to pick up a rental. I’m not sure how long they’ll keep my car.”
“Just let me know.”
“Thanks.” She’d been saying that to him a lot lately. David pulled into her driveway, and she gaped at the big motorcycle parked near the garage. “If he’d been driving that last night, I would’ve heard him arrive,” she muttered.
“Are you saying Trey bought that today?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.” From this angle it was impossible to see if there was a license plate on the burly bike. “I never asked how he got to the hospital.” She’d been too shocked that he’d shown up. “He told me he has a job and that they were letting him telecommute so he could visit with me. I have no idea about his finances. We haven’t discussed any of that yet.”
“He dropped out of school for a job?”
She nodded. “He says he met some kind of corporate team during a campus interest fair or something.” She didn’t want to get into the details of Trey’s emotional journey. His explanation didn’t sound any better to her now than it had sounded last night. “Maybe he borrowed the bike from a friend.”
“You think he stayed in touch with local friends but not with you?”
David’s obvious doubt eroded her confidence in the theory, and the implication hurt her already raw feelings. “I guess so. You know how guys are.”
“Being one, I have an idea.” He cleared his throat. “If he’s sugarcoating what happened in Arizona, it’s possible he’s put you in danger.”
“What do you mean?”
David shook his head. “I’m probably just being overprotective. What has he told you?”
“He said college overwhelmed him.” She rubbed her forehead. “It’s a long story and I was tired. Basically, he got caught up with a group of people who helped him sort things out. There was an emotional and physical boot camp or something. Self-improvement, teamwork and productivity, the whole thing.”
“That sounds less like a company and more like a commune or cult.”
“You know, I thought the same thing, but it was late. I know there’s more to it and he promised to tell me everything.”
“Terri.” He flexed his hand again, his gaze on the motorcycle. “Cults don’t let go of new recruits easily.”
Hearing the warning in David’s voice, she felt her nerves twisting a little more. “He says he’ll tell me all about it,” she said. At last she was energized and eager to hear the details.
“Maybe talking it out will clear the air.”
He didn’t sound the least bit convinced. “It’s okay, David. We’re a long way from Arizona.” She tugged her purse strap through her hands. “Trey can be a jerk, but he wouldn’t hurt me. Whether he found himself or only got himself more lost, he’d never hurt me.”
“Terri, I don’t like this.”
Somewhere deep inside, her intuition agreed with him. She picked up the vase of flowers and tried to lighten the mood. “You’re just upset we’re not going back to Benny’s tonight.”
“We could.” He grinned and reached across to hold her hand. “How about Trey comes with us? I’d like to get to know him.”
“Tempting,” she admitted. What did it mean that David wanted to know more about her brother? This felt as though it was moving pretty quickly from friends to something more serious. Changing up plans would only give Trey reason to fuss or mope. She’d promised him they’d sort a few things out tonight. “Can I take a rain check?”
David nodded. “Of course.”
“Thanks. I want to know what the heck he’s been doing since he dropped out.”
“Understandable.”
David opened the car door, took the flowers from her hands and walked Terri to the porch. She opened her mouth to thank him again, but the words got caught somewhere in the fragrant blooms between them. No hesitation this time. No warning. His lips landed on hers. Gently at first. Setting the flowers on the porch rail, he kissed her again. She kissed him back and his arms came around her, pressing her close to his hard body. Her hands fisted in the fabric of his jacket as she struggled to keep her balance.
He broke the kiss, but his embrace remained strong. “You’re rattled and you don’t have a car. Invite me in. Let me stay for a bit.”
“No.” She wanted to say yes and they both knew it. “I’ll be fine.”
His nostrils flared, and she knew he wanted to argue. “I’m just down the street if you need me.”
She smiled up at him, comforted beyond words by his thoughtfulness. His eyes were full of concern, but her lips tingled with the desire sizzling between them. A heady combination. “You’re a good friend, David.”
“Damned with faint praise,” he murmured. His lips brushed against her cheek. “I want more, Terri. Let me take you out for a date that proves my intent.”
“Soon, I promise.” She felt like a high school sophomore afraid her dad would catch her making out on the porch. “I’ll text you.”
He kissed her again. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.” She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, reluctant to let him go.
He proved himself strong enough for both of them and stepped away. “I’ll be waiting for that text.”
