In the Heart of the Wind Book 1 in the WindTorn Trilogy (33 page)

BOOK: In the Heart of the Wind Book 1 in the WindTorn Trilogy
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Kyle.

The thought shook him with its sudden appearance.

He whispered the name to himself, savoring the strength he drew from it.

Kyle Vittetoe. My best friend.
A lump formed in his throat.

They had come for him—Edna Mae, Kyle, Delbert. How many more had journeyed from Iowa?

Iowa. Snow. Roads with potholes. Potholes that flung wheelcovers far and wide along county-maintained roads. Wheelcovers that had to be replaced.

A gentle smile touched Jamie’s lips and he looked around him, trying to see who might be watching. No one was paying particular attention to him. He looked to Kyle. No one was near the man named David Boudreaux.

Jamie began to walk toward his friend.

 

“Dr. Lassiter.”

The call had come in on the scrambler.

“Yes, Dr. Lassiter. This is Andrew Tremayne. How are things going down there?”

Lassiter frowned. “As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

“Has he been informed of the tragedy?”

A cold rage filled Bruce Lassiter’s body. “Yes, Mr. Tremayne. I’ve told him.”

“How’d he take it?” There was humor in the voice.

A warning went off in Bruce Lassiter’s head. “Not well,” he lied. “He had to be sedated.”

“Really?” Andrew Tremayne actually laughed. “That’s sad.”

“Isn’t it?” Lassiter snapped. The muscles in his jaw clenched.

“And did you tell him Papa is taking care of Melissa?”

Again he lied. “Yes, Mr. Tremayne. I made sure he understood that.”

“Excellent! So long as he knows the child is being well-cared for, we won’t worry, will we?”

Well-cared for?
Lassiter seethed. Like the father had been well-cared for as a child? Would he be seeing James Tremayne’s daughter here before too long?

“Is there anything else, Mr. Tremayne?” Lassiter forced himself to ask, wanting to get off the phone with the odious man on the other end.

“Nothing of consequence. I’ll be coming down to visit earlier than expected. Papa has had a minor setback in his health and he wanted to make sure things were running smoothly with James. You can expect me there at the end of the week.”

“Fine,” Lassiter ground out. He was about to hang up when Andrew Tremayne’s bombshell dropped like a lead weight.

“Oh, by the way, Dr. Lassiter. We’ll be relieving you of James when I come.”

A dark stab of shock drove through Bruce Lassiter. “What? I don’t think I heard you.”

“I said we’ll be taking James with us when we leave. I’ll settle up with you on his bill at that time.”

“But why?” Lassiter’s eyes shifted back and forth, confusion and fear for Jamie Tremayne’s safety and what was left of the young man’s sanity tearing into him.

“Papa wants him in Miami. Close at hand, so to speak. It’s been long enough we can safely transfer him to one of the institutions down here. But that need not concern you, Doctor. I have to run. See you at the end of the week.”

Bruce Lassiter hung up the phone. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

 

Chapter 34

 

Kyle turned around
as Jamie Sinclair touched his shoulder. “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

Jamie looked into that face, a face he trusted, a face he had always trusted, a face he had loved as though it had belonged to a brother—a real brother—a brother who cared for him. He stared into those kind eyes that had always laughed with him, cried with him, gleamed at him. He saw those eyes squint with question.

Before he could lose his nerve, before someone could make him get away from Kyle, Jamie dredged up all the strength that beloved face and those gentle eyes had always instilled in him and he spoke, his voice gentle, but strong.

“I saw your mother driving away.”

Kyle’s eyebrows slanted toward one another. His confusion showed on his face. “I beg your pardon?”

Jamie’s eyes locked with Kyle’s. “I saw her driving away. She hit a pothole out on the road.”

Kyle laughed, somewhat relieved by the urbanity of Jamie Sinclair’s speech, even as he was confused by it. “She’s not a very good driver, I’m afraid.”

“I know that,” Jamie said in a quiet, steady voice.

Kyle’s smile wavered.

Jamie could sense the willingness of Kyle Vittetoe to help someone he knew needed help, could feel Kyle reaching out to him even though he didn’t know who it was he was so willing to help. His eyes bored into Kyle’s.

“Will you listen to me?” Jamie asked. “Will you do something if I ask you to?”

“If I can,” Kyle said, glancing around them.

“She lost a wheelcover,” Jamie said, his expression steady. “Your mother lost a wheelcover when she hit that pothole.”

A look of astonishment crossed Kyle’s face. “Really?” Kyle shook his head. “I’m not surprised. She loses quite a few of them.”

“Will you tell her for me that she lost her wheelcover?” The dark eyes were intent.

There was something so bizarre in the way the young man was staring at Kyle so steadily, never blinking, his eyes seeming to be trying to convey a message beyond his words. It was almost eerie the way those eyes had fused with his own and Kyle felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Will you tell her?” Jamie repeated, gripping Kyle’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.” The contact of the man’s hand on his shoulder had sent a strange flutter through his body.

“Sinclair!”

Kyle glanced around, saw Beecher heading their way, but Jamie hadn’t even flinched, hadn’t looked past him, didn’t seem to even be aware that the orderly was bearing down on them, his massive shoulders hunched forward in anger, his face suffused with color.

“Promise me,” Jamie said. “Promise me you’ll tell her about the wheelcover.” He took away his hand.

“Sure,” Kyle had time to say before Beecher grabbed Jamie’s arm in a punishing grip. The young man’s eyes wavered in pain, flickered, but the gaze held. That steady, probing gaze held. As he was jerked away, he did not break that gaze until Beecher shoved him forcefully into a chair and yelled at him not to bother the other patients.

Kyle stared in disbelief as he watched Jamie calmly take up the playing cards and begin to shuffle.

“Man, oh, man,” Kyle whispered. He could still feel that grip through the sleeve of his shirt.

His pity deepened for Jamie Sinclair. The man needed more help than he, Kyle, could give him.

 

Normally, Edna Mae
came to visit her ‘son’ every other day, but there had been times when nearly a week would pass before she bustled into the day room, her smile like a bright beacon of hope. Jamie had not expected to see her again for at least two days and was pleasantly, uproariously, surprised when she showed up the very next morning.

“It is such a glorious day,” he heard her say to Kyle. Her smile was effusive. “Too beautiful a day to be inside, David!” She took his arm. “Get your coat and let’s walk outside. You stay cooped up in here too much.”

Jamie saw her glance his way and he smiled. She smiled at him, then turned away. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as she and Kyle headed outside.

“Don’t forget, Kyle,” he whispered. “Dear God, please don’t let him forget.”

 

Kyle could tell
Edna Mae was a bundle of nerves as they left the back steps of the mansion and headed onto the lawns. Her body was rigid in the confines of her coat, her face was set, her hand so tight on his arm it was cutting off his circulation.

“Has something happened?” he asked, quietly.

“We had a meeting last night.” Her glance went to the bungalow and her face became a rigid mask of fury. “Outside of a commando raid on this damned place, no one could think of a way for us to get inside that bungalow.” Her voice was quivering with outrage, her eyes gleaming.

“Calm down,” he warned, looking behind them to the other black orderly, Harrison, who was following. “Did you talk to Thais?”

“Of course I talked to Thais,” Edna Mae mimicked. She looked up at Kyle with a vengeance of offended womanhood. “Who did you think I’d call—James Bond?”

Kyle sighed. The little woman was spitting mad and itching for a fight. He wanted to take her mind off things for a moment, calm her down.

“You’d better be more careful driving around out here, Mama.” He shook a finger at her. “You don’t want to get a ticket.” He saw Harrison glance their way, snort at the remark, then look away.

Edna Mae snatched a dead leaf from the live oak tree and crushed it between her fingers. Kyle’s words weren’t even registering with her.

“Did you find your wheel cover?”

Edna Mae stopped, his inane patter finally invading her anger. She glared up at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Kyle shrugged. “Jamie came over to me yesterday and said he saw you when you drove off. He saw you hit a pothole and lose one of your wheelcovers. I told him you weren’t much of a driver.”

Edna Mae’s face looked as though it were close to a hot oven. The red infused on her cheeks fairly radiated heat. “I wasn’t even driving yesterday. Delbert was, as usual, and don’t you go telling some stranger about what kind of driver I am, young man!”

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Kyle teased. At her unladylike snort, he nudged her with his shoulder. “One of these days, they’re going to stop giving you your license.”

“Will you shut up?” Edna Mae snapped at him. She squinted her eyes in annoyance and lowered her voice to a hiss. “Such foolishness won’t take my mind off that damned bungalow!”

“A promise is a promise and I kept mine.”

“What
are
you babbling about?”

“You know how Jamie is. You’ve seen him when he goes off the deep end. He made me promise I’d tell you about the wheelcover and I did.” Kyle put an arm around her, feeling her tense against him. He hugged her. “It seemed so important to him that I tell you you had lost a wheelcover. He made me swear I would. I couldn’t go back on my word.”

Edna Mae opened her mouth to vent her anger, but Kyle put a finger to her lips, trying to make her laugh as he wagged his brows at her.

“I didn’t know you were such a bad driver,” he teased. “Did you aim at that pothole? You’d better just take it nice and slow, like an old lady’s suppose to drive from now on. I doubt they have a supply of wheelcovers that would fit the limo down here.” His eyes crinkled, expecting her to join in his mirth, but her eyes widened in what he thought was absolute fury. “Now, Mama,” he had a chance to warn before her fingers dug into his arm, eliciting a startled yelp from him.

“Tell me
exactly
what he said,” Edna Mae ordered, jerking on Kyle’s arm and pulling him down to a stone bench beside the lily pond. She sat beside him. “Tell me what he said!”

“Who?”

“Jamie,” Edna Mae spat, lowering her voice. She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and looked at Kyle. “I want to know everything that was said.” Her grip was so tight on Kyle’s arm, her knuckles had bled of their color.

“He just said he saw you driving off yesterday and that you lost a wheelcover. He was so insistent I tell you, it gave me the willies.” He remembered the look on Jamie’s face. “That’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me without me speaking first. It was strange.” He looked at Edna Mae and saw her staring across the grounds to the mansion. “What’s the matter?”

Edna Mae stood, her face was stark white, her mouth open, her eyes staring at him. He glanced at Harrison and saw that the black man wasn’t paying attention. He lowered his voice.

“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Edna Mae swallowed, her eyes closing, opening, staring at Kyle. Kyle came to his feet, concerned, and helped her to sit.

“Edna Mae?” he asked, wincing at the name he had used. “Mama,” he corrected. “Are you all right?”

“Dear merciful Jesus,” Edna Mae mumbled as she bent forward, her face in her hands.

Kyle switched his eyes to Harrison, but the man wasn’t even aware something was happening. He pulled Edna Mae into his arms. “Tell me,” he insisted. “Is it your heart?”

Her eyes lifted to his. “Oh, Kyle,” she whispered. “Kyle, he’s here.” She looked toward the mansion.

“I’m going to get Dr. Lassi—”

“No,” Edna Mae commanded. Her hand clutched his arm.

“If you’re sick...”

Her eyes bore into his. “Isn’t one of Gabe’s brother’s a plastic surgeon?”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t...”

“Andrew.” She shook her head. “No, Patrick! Patrick Tremayne. He’s down in Orlando. One of the best, they say. ‘Cosmetologist to the Stars’ the tabloids call him.” She pulled sharply on Kyle’s arm. “They say he can change a person’s face so completely their own mother won’t even recognize them!”

“What has that got to do with—”

“Think, damn it,” she hissed. “Who would’ve known about me losing wheelcovers all the time, Kyle? I haven’t driven since we’ve been down here and there aren’t any wheelcovers on that damned limo. It has those fancy wire rims! I couldn’t have lost one unless I lost the whole damned car!”

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