Death in a Funhouse Mirror (44 page)

"Hold it! Don't do that," Dom said. "Don't tie her down. You're scaring her to death."

"What do you suggest?" Dr. Danczyk asked. "We can't sedate her."

"Let me talk to her." All their eyes went to Danczyk, who nodded. The hands that had been grabbing at me went away, all except Dom's which stayed on my shoulders. He lowered his head and spoke to me softly. "Thea. Listen to me. I know it scares you, but they have to handle your arm in order to fix it. They aren't trying to hurt you." He kept his words slow and distinct. I tried to shut out the others who hovered nervously around him. Tried to relax. I was so scared I could hardly breathe. As he spoke, Dom was massaging my shoulders in a steady rhythm that matched his voice.

"Close your eyes," he said. He waited. I closed them. The warm hands began to move again. "Good girl... uh... woman. I won't let anyone hurt you, but you've got to stay calm and cooperate. Can you do that?" The warm hands stayed with me, calm, steady, reassuring. "I promise you I'll be right here. I won't leave you."

I nodded. "Okay. Do it."

"Take your time," he said. "Let us know when you're ready."

"I'm cold."

There was a mumble of voices and then Dr. Danczyk spoke again. "We're going to get you some blankets. Then we need to get to work."

"Go ahead." Dom kept his word and stayed by my head, hands on my shoulders. Someone put a warm blanket over me. They took my arm and held it down. I fought a wave of black terror, concentrated on Dom's steady voice. Steady hands. I let myself drift.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

I hovered in a half world, suspended between asleep and awake, not daring to go either way. Awake I felt a stifling terror at being forced to lie there letting them manipulate my arm, knowing that if I truly woke up fear would impel me to get off the table and run. Asleep I was afraid of the images that might come, unbidden, controlled by the director of my dreams. I stayed there in my nowhere land, waiting for the stitching to stop, that painless but still frightening process, wanting them to go away and leave me alone.

During the attack, the drugs had made me limp and passive, helpless to defend myself. Now I lay rigid with fear waiting for more pain, for the next bad thing to happen, once again helpless and at the mercy of others. The only thing that kept me on the table instead of cowering in the corner was Dom. He stayed with me, a calming, steady presence, keeping up a constant murmur of reassurance. As long as he kept his hands on my shoulders, I could handle this.

As they were working on my second wrist, he took his hands away and others took their place. Different hands that massaged my shoulders in a familiar rhythm. Andre brought his face next to mine, his familiar voice in my ear. "You're stiff as a board. Relax and let go, Thea. Just relax and let go. No one is going to hurt you anymore. You can trust us. You're safe. We'll be right here, I promise." He repeated his reassurances over and over in his rich, deep voice, his big hands gently kneading the stiff muscles in my shoulders until I began to relax.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Then, absurdly, "What took you so long?"

"Long?" he said. "I never drove so fast in my life. You'll have to do more than this to get away from me."

"Wasn't trying to get away from you. Just tryin' to go home and get some sleep."

"You can go to sleep anytime you want. You don't have to stay awake for us."

"How did you know?"

"Dom called me. Said you were up to your usual tricks. At least you didn't run into a tree this time." The words were his familiar gentle teasing but his voice was ragged from worry.

"Never did run into a tree." I was finally beginning to feel safe. Bit by bit, I began to let go, to relax the rigid self-control I'd imposed on myself to try and stay alive and coherent. All my wariness and tension seemed to be being drawn out through his warm fingers. It was as though I'd been holding my breath for hours and now, finally, I could exhale. Maybe I could go to sleep, as long as Andre stayed with me.

He must have read my mind, because he said, "Thea, will you please go to sleep now?"

"I was scared. I thought I was going to die."

"You were right to be. If you weren't so tough and sensible, you could have."

"You like your women tough and sensible?"

"Only you," he said. "I like you tough and sensible. Now go to sleep. I'll be right here. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'll be right here beside you. I'll chase the dreams away."

He knew me so well. Knew why I was afraid to go to sleep. I closed my eyes and let myself go. As I was drifting away, I heard Dr. Danczyk say, "Forgive me my curiosity, but are you all detectives investigating the case or is one of you romantically involved with this young lady?"

"This is Snow White, Doctor," Dom said, "and we be the three dwarves. The other four are out tracking down the bad guys. What do you think?"

"I vote for the big guy who looks like he almost lost his best friend. And I think I'm going to go home, have a couple of drinks and try not to wonder what the world is coming to. What did she do to deserve this?"

"She didn't deserve it," Andre said.

"Stepped on the wrong toes," Dom added. I left them to their discussion of the causes of crime and went to sleep.

I woke up with a drug hangover, screaming pain in my wrists, and a stomachache, feeling as weak as a kitten. As they had promised, I was not alone. My room was full of the groggiest looking people I'd ever seen, one of whom was sleeping beside me on the bed. "Is this what they mean by police protection?" I croaked.

The room came slowly to life, a seedy, decrepit form of life. In the far corner, still wearing the bloody shirt, his suit rumpled from being slept in, was Steve Meagher. Dom and Rosie were snoozing in chairs by the door, heads together, holding hands. Andre was beside me on the bed, taking up more than his share, one arm wrapped protectively around me. "Why aren't you all out catching bad guys?"

"Didn't want to miss your sleep-over party," Meagher said. "How do you feel today?"

"Down a few quarts." Beside me, Andre stirred, tightened his arm around me, and tried to pull me closer, trapping my wrist between our bodies. "Stop it," I yelled. My yell had all the punch of a newborn's fist. I had no voice and no volume today, but he heard me, let go, and sat up with a jerk, bursting with apologies. He looked a little gray today, the smile lines around his eyes changed to worry lines. Once he was reassured that I was alive, he got right down to business.

"Tell me everything that happened last night."

Before I could begin, a nurse came in. She halted midway across the room and surveyed my entourage. "Would you all mind giving me about five minutes alone with the patient?"

Everyone obediently got up and started out. Everyone except Andre. He inspected the name on her badge, then pushed the call button and waited until a second nurse appeared. "Can you confirm that Ms. Guyette is a staff nurse at this hospital and assigned to this floor?" he asked. Flustered, the second nurse confirmed that my nurse was genuine. "Thank you," he said. "You understand why we have to be careful."

"Of course, Officer," she said, stepping timidly out of the room.

His precautions had made Nurse Guyette a little huffy. "Is there anything else you'd like to check, Officer?"

"I'd rather be too careful and risk annoying you than be careless and let Thea get killed," he said, and left.

She established for the record that I had a pulse and blood pressure and asked if I felt like getting up to visit the bathroom. It sounded like a good idea, but by the time I reached the edge of the bed I was trembling, and when I stood up, the edges of the room got fuzzy and began to move. "Forget it," I said, and coped with the indignity of the bedpan. By the time they came back, I was brushed, both tooth and hair, and my hands and face were clean. My mother would almost have approved.

"Did you call my parents?" I asked Andre as soon as he came through the door.

"Thought I'd let you decide about that." He got right back to business. "Who is Erik? And what did you mean when you said, 'the Vikings are next'?"

"I said that? When?"

"In your sleep. Last night."

"I don't know. Did I say anything else?"

"Something about golden slippers."

I considered that, but it made no more sense to me than warning Erik. I didn't know anyone named Erik. "I'm coming up empty, Andre. I don't know what I was talking about."

"How about fires and the sweet smell of success?"

"I said that? That doesn't ring any bells either."

"Don't worry about it. Maybe it will come back to you. You ready to do the cop thing now? Tell us everything that happened last night?"

"Only if you wrap your arms around me and hold me."

"Oh, man," Meagher said, "this is gonna be some weird interview."

"I thought you did all your interrogations this way, Steve," Dom prodded.

"Only the women. Men I interview from a distance."

The three of them, razor sharp even after their uncomfortable night, took me back through the whole thing, their questions fitting together like puzzle pieces. It was every bit as unpleasant as I'd anticipated. When they were finished, I was as limp as a dish-rag. "Well, guess it's time to round up the usual suspects," Dom announced. "We've got at least three people who handled the coffee. It must have been one of them."

They were all impatient with me because I couldn't tell them more about my assailant. Even Andre. "Come on, Thea," he said, "think again. How tall was the person? Taller than you? Shorter? What kind of car was it?"

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Damn it, Lemieux. I was halfway to never-never land. I can only tell you a few things. Whoever it was had strong hands, was mean and enjoyed hurting me. Or at least didn't care about hurting me. And wasn't tall." That didn't stop them. Not three of the best, intent on plying their trade. They went on asking questions until I was in tears and begging them to stop. Rosie had disappeared or I would have asked her for help.

She finally returned to rescue me. She fed me cereal and tea and gave me one of her own nightgowns. Then she sat by the bed in her wheelchair and read to me until I fell asleep.

In my dream I was sitting in the car. The dark figure had finished cutting me and was waving the knife in front of my face. "Maybe a little cut here and here." The knife lightly touched my cheek. I lowered my eyes to avoid seeing the blade, watching the ground instead. A steady stream of my own blood gushed into my lap. "Sweet dreams, McKusick," the figure said, closed the door and backed away.

"Did you notice the shoes?" I looked up in surprise. Carrie was sitting beside me, staring curiously at my gory wrists. "Don't let them kill you, Thea. It's a real bummer, being dead, believe me." She smiled sadly, brushing ineffectually at the streak of blood across her face. "Did you notice the shoes?"

"What about them?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell you, Thea. I'm dead. I just hope you can remember." She opened the door and vanished into the night.

"Wait, Carrie," I called, "don't go yet. Tell me what you meant."

It was time for another nap. Maybe Carrie would come back and tell me what she meant, but first I needed a drink. I looked around for Rosie to help me, but she'd fallen asleep in her chair. The plastic pitcher of ice water beside my bed was too heavy. It hurt to lift it. I ended up sticking my straw into the spout and drinking that way. Inelegant but effective. Dealing with my thirst left me depleted, like a spent battery. Last night it had been drugs that made me physically inert. Today it was exhaustion and loss of blood. My body had undergone a savage assault and a major shock. If I was patient, I'd recover, but right now I was weak and helpless. I settled back against the pillow, closed my eyes and dozed.

A sharp click woke me. An unfamiliar nurse with frosted blond hair and tinted black-framed glasses was watching me. She laughed at my confusion, tugged off the wig and glasses, and locked the door. Then Eve Paris stood back, smiling maliciously. Under her white coat she was wearing a black pantsuit over a crisp white shirt, and the same strappy shoes. My eyes stopped on her gold toenails. Golden slippers. The answer to Carrie's question. Now I'd noticed her feet. Now that it was too late my mind flashed back quite clearly to those same feet, those same shoes, standing on the gravel beside my car as I looked helplessly away from the knife that was descending toward my wrist. To her familiar parting line, "Sweet dreams, McKusick." I reached for the call button but she took it from me and tossed it away. I looked for Rosie but she was gone.

"You're a bit slow today, aren't you," she said. "I wonder why? Looking for your pal on wheels I'll bet. Too bad. She went to get some food. I said I'd stay with you until she got back. People are so trusting, aren't they?" She came and sat down beside me on the bed, fingering the bandages on my wrist. "You just won't do what I want you to do, will you, Thea?"

"What do you mean?"