by Radclyffe
“My gun. Lost it.”
“I didn’t see it.” Rica looked again, even bending down to search underneath Carter’s vehicle, but she couldn’t find it.
Carter closed her eyes, exhausted.
“Carter?” Rica knelt again. “Darling?”
“Sounds good,” Carter muttered.
Rica smiled unsteadily and caressed Carter’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right.”
Carter opened her eyes and braced her good hand against the stairs. She was weak, but some of the nausea had subsided. “Help me up.”
“I don’t think—damn it,” Rica exploded, hastily wrapping an arm around Carter’s shoulder as Carter pushed herself into a sitting position. “God, you’re so stubborn.”
Winded, Carter rested her cheek against Rica’s shoulder. “Ditto.”
“Can you walk to the car?” Rica cradled Carter’s face gently against her breast, feeling the sticky blood beneath her fingers.
“Rather go upstairs.”
“Yes, I know, but you’re not going to until a doctor has seen you. You either let me drive you somewhere or I’ll call 911.”
“Rica,” Carter said as firmly as she could. “We need to keep this quiet. You’ll be exposed…if this is documented.”
“I don’t care.”
“Clinic.” Carter was too weak to argue.
*
Tory snatched up the phone on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Dr. King? This is Rica Grechi. I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but this number is listed at the clinic for emergencies.”
Tory had been so prepared to hear the sound of Roger Conlon’s voice that she struggled to orient herself. She couldn’t place the woman’s name. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember…”
“I saw you yesterday afternoon. I had some injuries to my face.”
The image of the beautiful young woman who’d been seriously battered snapped into place. “Of course. I’m sorry. You’re at the clinic now?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it’s a bit of an emergency.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s rather complicated, but…there’s been an assault.”
So Rica Grechi was wrong that he wouldn’t come after her again. Tory glanced at the clock in the kitchen. 6:30 a.m. She’d been up since five, feeding Reggie and pacing. She could call KT or Bonita to run over to the clinic. Either one of them would be willing to see an emergency patient for her.
“I’m so sorry to call like this,” Rica said, her voice trembling. “It’s my lover. She’s been hurt, and we can’t go anywhere else.”
Two battered women. Whatever was going on, it had the potential to be very dangerous for one or both of them. “Is she conscious?”
“Yes, but…it looks bad.”
“Is there any chance that you’ve been followed? That he’ll attack you again?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“All right, but keep an eye out and be prepared to leave if you need to. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Tory hung up and went to the guest room. She tapped on the door. “Bri?”
“Yeah?”
Tory opened the door and then quickly averted her gaze when a naked Bri jumped from bed. It didn’t matter that Bri was twenty years her junior, she was a beautiful young woman and Tory was not her mother. “Sorry. Can you watch the baby for a little while? I’ve got to go to the clinic.”
“Now?” Bri frowned as she searched for her jeans. “I mean, I don’t mind watching Reggie.” She pulled up her pants, zipped them, and tugged on her T-shirt. “But isn’t it awfully early?”
“Emergency.”
“Jesus, Tory.” Bri ran a hand through her thick, unruly hair. “Can’t you let someone else do it? You must be beat.”
Tory smiled softly. Obviously, everyone she knew thought she was fragile. “I’ve got my cell phone. I gave that number to Reese’s father, so when…when he calls, I’ll get it. I won’t stay. I just need to see this one patient.”
“Okay. I told my dad I wasn’t coming in today unless he really needs me. I want to be here when they find Reese.”
“Good. I want you to be here, too.”
Bri’s certainty was almost contagious, and Tory allowed herself to believe in it as she left for the clinic. It had been just over thirty-three hours since Reese had disappeared. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer.
When Tory turned into the clinic parking lot she saw a silver Lexus idling by the side entrance to the clinic. It was the only vehicle in the lot and invisible from the road. She pulled up nearby and got out at the same time as Ricarda Grechi jumped from the Lexus. They met by the front passenger door.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Rica said. She opened the door and bent down. “Carter? The doctor’s here.”
Tory peered into the vehicle. “Let me take a look before we try to move her.”
Carter carefully turned her head and squinted. The woman looked familiar. “I can walk. Slowly.”
“Is your neck okay?” Tory asked.
“Seems to be. Head hurts like a bastard, though.”
Tory eyed the three inch laceration running along the woman’s right temporal hairline. Her hair was matted with dried blood. “I’ll just bet it does.”
“Sorry about all of this.”
“No need for apologies.” Tory scooped an arm around Carter’s waist as Rica helped ease Carter from the car to an upright position. “Here, let’s take it slow.” Five minutes later she and Rica helped Carter onto an examining table in the quiet, empty clinic. As Tory washed her hands, she said, “Fill me in on the details.”
Rica, who stood by the side of the examining table with her hand on Carter’s shoulder, looked down at her inquiringly.
“It happened about one o’clock this morning. I took a couple of shots to the back, a couple to the stomach, a kick to the right wrist, and blunt force trauma to the head. A sap, I think. Twice. Knocked me cold.”
Rica moaned softly and stroked Carter’s hair with trembling fingers. “Who was it?”
“Don’t know.” Carter lifted her uninjured hand and caught Rica’s. “It’s okay.”
“That’s where you’re very wrong, Carter.”
Tory studied Rica, surprised by the anger and resolve in her voice. This situation was not what she had expected. These were not lovers battered by an angry spouse or boyfriend. They seemed to be lovers, but there was some other tension between them. And Rica Grechi looked ready to exact vengeance from someone. “Have you called the police?”
Carter held Rica’s eyes. “I’m a Massachusetts State Police detective.”
“I see.” Tory sighed. “And I assume there’s a reason why you’re here instead of calling for backup and an ambulance?”
“Several,” Carter replied, still looking at Rica.
“All right. Let’s worry about you first. Then we’ll talk.”
After completing her examination, Tory said, “I’m going to need a urine specimen. Can you make it to the bathroom?”
“I’ll help her,” Rica said.
“Just help me get over there,” Carter said. “I can handle it from there.”
Tory smiled. “Not too sick to forgo pride, I see. Cops are all alike.” At Rica’s curious expression she said, “My lover is the sheriff here.”
“Conlon?” Carter asked. At Tory’s nod, she started to shake her head and then winced. “I remember you now. That day at the beach. You had some young kid riding bodyguard detail.”
“Bri Parker. Family friend.”
“Conlon due back soon?”
Tory struggled to keep her expression neutral. “Soon. We hope soon.” She took Carter’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
*
Rica paced uneasily in front of the closed door. “I don’t think we should leave her alone in there.”
“She’ll be all right for a few minutes, but she’s in no shape to be making decisions, Ms. Grechi.” Tory kept her voice low.
“She has a concussion. The two of you are obviously in danger, and she’s not going to be able to protect you.”
“I can.”
Tory believed her. “I know that if Reese were here and something like this happened, there’d be hell to pay if Carter kept quiet about it. Whatever’s going on, Carter should be able to get all the help she needs from the local authorities.”
“She’s worried about me,” Rica said softly.
“I gathered that. Try to convince her to get some backup in case there’s more trouble.”
“I will.”
The bathroom door opened and Carter leaned against the door frame. “Mission accomplished, but I don’t think I can make it back to the table.”
Rica rushed to her and put an arm around her waist. “Lean on me. Come on.”
“I’ll be right back.” Tory took the specimen cup and went next door to the small lab.
In the few minutes it took Rica to get Carter settled again, Tory completed her analysis. “You’ve got traces of blood in your urine, which probably is due to a bruised kidney.”
“Should we go to the hospital?” Rica said immediately.
“It would be the prudent thing to do, yes,” Tory said, watching Carter’s face take on a set expression. “But Detective Wayne isn’t going to. Which means, Detective, you are going to go home and get into bed. You are to drink plenty of fluid. Tylenol only for pain. I’ll give you a small dose of codeine to augment it. No aspirin. No ibuprofen. Nothing that could increase the chance of bleeding.”
“Okay,” Carter said.
“And,” Tory went on sternly, “you need to be observed for at least twenty-four hours. You’ve got a serious concussion and all too frequently we see other problems develop as a result. You need to be on the lookout for visual changes, confusion, increasing nausea, dizziness, weakness. I need to know about it immediately.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Rica said.
Carter said nothing.
“And I need to suture that laceration on your temple.” Tory looked at Rica. “I assume you want to stay while I do that?”
Rica kept her eyes on Carter. “Yes.”
When Tory finished, she found two business cards among the pile of prescription pads in a drawer and handed one to each woman. “Call me if anything changes. I won’t be in for the rest of the day. Possibly not for several.” She wrote a prescription and handed it to Rica. “One every four hours. No more for the first twenty-four, then you can double the dose.”
“I understand.”
“If I hear that there’s any further violence involving either of you, I’m going to Sheriff Parker. I don’t care what this investigation is all about.”
Carter held out her hand. “Thank you, Dr. King. I can promise you there won’t be any further problems.”
“Just go home and go to bed, Detective.”
*
Carter slumped into the front seat of Rica’s car with a faint groan. “Jesus. She’s not happy with us.”
“I got the feeling she’s well versed in cop bullshit,” Rica said as she headed toward town.
Carter smiled faintly. “Yeah. I got that too.”
“I’m going to get you settled first, and then I’ll pick up your prescription.”
“I don’t need it. Tylenol will be fine.”
“Uh-huh.”
Carter narrowed her eyes against the bright sunlight and checked the street signs. “Where are you going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“This isn’t the way to my apartment. “
“No,” Rica said calmly. “But it is the way to my house.”
Carter swore. “Rica, you can’t be seen with me.”
Rica turned her head briefly, gave Carter a measured look, and then turned her attention back to the road. “Carter, you are in no position to be giving orders.”
“You don’t have any idea how dangerous the situation is. If these guys come back—Christ, I don’t even have my weapon.”
“Somehow,” Rica said conversationally, “you’ve gotten the wrong impression. I’m not a pampered rich girl. I’ve had to protect myself my entire life. And I know how to do it.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“What makes you think I’ll tell you the truth?”
“Because there’s no point in lying anymore,” Carter said wearily.
“I suppose you’re right.” Rica turned into her driveway and shifted to meet Carter’s eyes. “I don’t know why. Let’s just say I don’t want any more of your blood on my hands.”
Carter wasn’t certain what she had hoped to hear, but she was in no position to ask for more. “Twenty-four hours. Maybe that will give us enough time to sort this out.”
“Maybe.” Rica shrugged. “Either way, tomorrow we say goodbye and call it even.”
“Right.” Carter watched Rica come around the front of the vehicle to help her out. They could pretend all they wanted that none of this had ever happened, but she wasn’t going to be able to forget.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“It’s probably just as well that we don’t see one another in the future,” Rica said as she slowly guided Carter upstairs to her bedroom. “Our relationship doesn’t seem to be very good for our health.”
Winded, Carter settled onto the side of the bed. “You think?”
Rica forced herself to relinquish her hold on Carter, even though she had an almost obsessive desire to keep touching her. The terror of finding that photo and thinking for an instant that Carter was dead still haunted her. She folded her arms around her middle. “The last forty-eight hours would indicate that.”
“What happened to me isn’t your fault,” Carter said. “It’s mine.”
“Someone nearly beat you to death because of me.”
“We don’t know that.” Carter closed her eyes, absurdly glad that she hurt in more than one place so that she couldn’t actually focus on where the pain was greatest. “I need a shower.”
“You can barely stand. Get some sleep, and you can shower later.”
“I’m not getting into bed without one.”
“God, Carter,” Rica exploded. “Can’t you do anything the easy way? Do you have any idea how bad you look right now?”
“It looks worse than it—”
“Don’t. Just…don’t.” Rica walked quickly to the other side of the room, afraid that Carter would see the tears that had taken her by surprise. God, she didn’t want to feel any of this. She flinched at the light touch on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. For all of this.”
“I don’t want to talk about it now,” Rica said, her back still turned. “Can you manage the shower by yourself?”
“Yes.” Carter hesitated. She should contact Kevin and tell him what happened. She should heed Allen’s call to come in. She should be anywhere but in Rica Grechi’s bedroom. And all she could think of was easing the pain she could hear in Rica’s voice. “I never lied to you about how I feel about you.”
“Just about everything else.” Rica couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. She turned, refusing to allow the sight of Carter’s injuries to assuage her anger. “Is that supposed to make it all right that you deceived me for weeks?”
“No,” Carter said quietly. “I can’t make it all right. I should’ve backed off when I realized I was falling in love with you, but I didn’t want to admit it.”
“I don’t care what you feel or don’t feel about me.”
“I know.” Carter touched her fingertips lightly to the bruise on Rica’s cheek. “This is looking a little better.”
Rica said nothing as Carter slowly made her way into the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind her. She wanted to follow. She wanted to help her undress and bathe her wounds. She wanted to wash the blood from Carter’s hair and from her own memories. She forced herself to stay where she was, because she wanted so badly to touch her.
*
“Here you go, babe,” Bri said with a f
lourish, sliding an only slightly burned grilled cheese sandwich onto a plate in front of Caroline, who sat at the breakfast island with Reggie on her lap. “You sure you don’t want one, Tory?”
“No. I’m fine. Thanks.” Tory stood at the open door to the deck, staring at the cloudless blue sky and wondering if Reese could see the sky from wherever she was. It was night there already. Dark. Forty hours. She’d been missing forty hours.
The cell phone on her belt chimed. Tory snatched it off and stared at the readout. Private caller. She knew it could be anyone. Her mother had promised to call at midday to see if there was any news after Tory insisted that her parents not make the ten-hour drive just yet. She’d given her private number to quite a few patients in case they had questions about new medications or needed to report a change in an unstable medical condition. It might just be a wrong number. Her hand shook.
“Hello?”
She heard a garbled voice. A male voice, she thought. Then faint static gave way to silence. Something in Tory’s face brought Bri hurrying around the counter, but Caroline caught her arm and stopped her.
“Hello,” Tory said urgently. “This is Victoria King. Hello?”
“Hi…baby…me.”
Tory covered her mouth to stifle a cry. She stared at Bri and Caroline, both of whom seemed to be frozen in mid-motion, like figures in a snapshot.
“Reese?” Tory’s voice trembled. “Sweetheart? Reese?”
*
Six thousand miles away, Reese Conlon motioned for the medics to hold off lifting her stretcher into the UH-60Q Black Hawk medivac helicopter. “I’m okay. Tory, baby, can you hear me? I’m okay.”
“Where…you?”
“Germany. I love you.”
“Hurt? … you hurt?”
“Nothing much. Don’t worry. Tory, I love you.”
The connection went dead and Reese swore.
“Time to go, Colonel,” the medic said.
“Just try again,” Reese pleaded.
“Load her up. Now,” a familiar voice snapped.
Reese turned her head, gritting her teeth as the movement pulled at the burn on her shoulder and arm. Her father’s face was in shadow, his body outlined against the night sky by the spotlights from the helicopters. “If I could just try the call one more—”
