Quick Fix (9 page)

Thomas met me at the police station. After the cops drove off with Billy, I’d called him and told him everything I knew, which wasn’t much. He’d caught the first shuttle out.

I’d left Molly with James—he was back at the lab, still working hard to solve her problem. He’d been shocked about the shooting, but figured it was better for him to focus on what he could fix and leave the legal maneuvering to our big brother.

Thomas and I were going to try to bail Billy out, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He was being held on charges of assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder. Thank God it was still “attempted”—Laura was hanging on. Mark—he’d been my next call, right after Thomas—was at the hospital with her and planned to stay until a CIA watchdog got there to replace him. It was just luck he happened to be in Manhattan already.

Thomas wore an understated but obviously expensive suit. His briefcase was the finest black leather, simple and sleek. Ditto his shoes. He looked every inch the prosperous lawyer he was, in full legal shark mode, circling the familiar waters of the criminal defense system. I was sure he’d have Billy out in no time.

But I was wrong.

Tight-lipped, he led me out of the station. I’d had to wait in the reception area while he saw Billy—apparently, honorary cousins had no special right to see the accused—and Thomas wouldn’t talk until we were in the backseat of the limo he’d hired as soon as he’d arrived.

“What’s wrong? Why are they holding him? Surely they don’t think he shot Laura?”

“That’s precisely what they think, and they have enough circumstantial evidence to back it up. Add to that, he refuses to identify the female who phoned in the emergency. At least he’s keeping you out of it, but no bail tonight.”

Crap.
“Maybe if I told the police it was me—”

“Wouldn’t do any good. It would only complicate the situation, and they’d still hold Billy for shooting Laura.”

“But … he didn’t. He couldn’t have.”

He looked at me sharply. “Did you see it happen?”

“Well, no. I was in the bathroom with Molly—”

“Then you don’t know,” he said. Pure, annoying logic.

“Of course I do. Billy wouldn’t do something like that.”

He looked like he was about to dig his legal heels in and say something else (I suspect that’s a reflex for him), but then made a blinding switch from lawyer to brother, and smiled gently instead. He laid his arm over my shoulders and pulled me to him. His aftershave was the same one Dad used. I found the scent comforting, and buried my face in his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Ciel. We’ll get him out of there tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Doesn’t Billy have any idea who did it? Why doesn’t he just tell the police?” I said.

“He can’t. Or won’t.”

I sat up straight. “What? But that’s stupid.”

“He wants to see Mark. Said he can’t talk to anyone else before he talks to him.”

“Well, then, let’s go get Mark.”

“That’s where we’re heading. So, how’s Molly? Has James figured her out yet?”

“Not unless he’s done it since I dropped her off at the lab. Looks like he’s planning to pull an all-nighter.”

“Good. Why should he get any sleep when the rest of us can’t?” Ah, brotherly love.

Mark was in with Laura when we got to the hospital. Thomas and I hung out in the ICU waiting room, drinking bitter, lukewarm coffee and not talking a whole lot. Wasn’t much we could say in front of the hollow-eyed occupants sitting vigil until the next brief moment they were allowed to see their loved ones.

Mark, looking grim, joined us after a few minutes—no one was allowed to stay with a patient in ICU for long. He shook Thomas’s hand and gave me a perfunctory kiss on the top of my head, but I could tell his mind was still back in the room with Laura.

When I’d first met Laura on a sailboat in the Baltic, I’d jumped to the conclusion that she and Mark were involved beyond an ordinary working relationship. After getting to know her a bit, I’d decided not. But the look on Mark’s face now made me wonder again.

“How is she?” I asked.

“Not good. She lost a lot of blood. But she survived surgery—that’s promising. If they can keep her stable for the next few hours…”

“Does she have family we should contact?” I asked, knowing I’d sure as heck want my family around me if I got shot.

“No,” Thomas said shortly.

“Nobody she’d want us to,” Mark said at the same time, his eyes flinting over. Guess Laura’s family wasn’t as warm and fuzzy as mine. But how did Thomas know that?

My mind bubbled with other questions, though, so that one got bumped down the line. “Why was she at Billy’s? Were they working together on something? Who would do this to her?”

Surprisingly, Mark answered, at least partially. He didn’t look pleased. “If they were working together, it wasn’t official.”

“Why would Billy let himself be taken?”

Mark shrugged. “Didn’t have time to leave between when the paramedics got there and the police came, I expect.”

“But why
as
himself? Wouldn’t it have been better to use a different aura? I just don’t get it.”

“What good would being anyone else do him? The apartment is in his name. He’s still connected, and being somebody else would just complicate matters more.”

“Can you get him out of jail tonight?” I hated to think of Billy in a cell.

“Not officially. Even if he really worked for the Agency, our hands would be tied. It’s a local law enforcement issue.”

“Unofficially?” I pressed.

“Let’s just see what Thomas can do for him tomorrow first.”

At that my brother looked somber. “You better convince him to come clean about who really did it, or all my brilliant legal maneuvering won’t amount to a damn thing.”

Mark nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and then addressed me. “You’ll stay with Laura?”

“Of course I will.”

“We better go,” Thomas said.

Mark shook his head. “I’d prefer you to stay here with Ciel, if you don’t mind. At least until Harvey gets here.”

“Harvey’s in town?” Thomas seemed surprised.

“Should be by now.”

“Who’s Harvey?” I asked.

“A colleague,” Mark said. No further explanation, but then there never was when it involved the Agency.

Thomas didn’t seem anxious to stick around for Harvey’s arrival. “You’d have an easier time getting in to see Billy with his lawyer along.”

“You have to see Harvey again eventually, you know. Besides, I have a suit your size in my car. If I need you, I’ll use you. If that’s okay.” Mark didn’t sound like he expected Thomas to refuse the use of his aura, and Thomas didn’t. But he’d had to ask.

“Just don’t swear at any judges. I don’t practice law regularly in New York anymore, but I’d hate to lose the privilege.”

Mark gave him a half-grin. “I’ll restrain myself. You watch your sister. Try to keep her out of trouble.”

I turned to Thomas as soon as Mark left. “So who’s this Harvey, and why don’t you want to see him?”

Thomas ignored my question. “Mom’s left half a dozen messages on your work phone. Probably flooded your home phone, too. Haven’t you given her your new cell number?”

I swallowed guiltily. “Not yet.”

He hit me with the big-brother look.

“What? I’m going to give it to her.”
Maybe
.

“When she can’t get hold of you, who do you think she calls?”

“You could always change yours, too. It works great for at least a week.” That was usually how long it took for one of my rat fink brothers to fess up to knowing my number, after which said brother folded like a bad poker hand and told her. Not that I could blame them. I ratted them out to Mom on a regular basis, too. It was impossible not to—Mom was just that good.

Thomas shook his head. “You are a piece of work, Ciel. I should call Mom right now and tell her you’re in town.”

“But you won’t because then I’d be forced to tell her you’re here, too, and neither of us wants that, now, do we?” I said with my sweetest sisterly smile.

A nurse approached us, looking professionally grave in her scrubs. “Are you relatives of Ms. Vale?” she asked, her voice as cool and smooth as a vanilla milkshake. She had the concerned-yet-detached look of someone who was used to dealing with people in high-stress situations. I imagined ICU would do that to you.

Thomas stood and stepped forward, equally calm, cool, and collected. No one was going to out-smooth him. “I’m Thomas Halligan, Ms. Vale’s attorney. I have a copy of her medical power of attorney with me, if you need to see it.”

I looked at him sharply. That was news to me.

“No, no. That’s quite all right for now. If someone from legal demands it, I’ll let you know.”

We followed her back to a room filled with wires, tubes, bags of IV fluids, and beeping machinery, all connected to Laura. She was a tall woman, but in that bed, in this situation, she looked so fragile it scared me. Her cheeks had less color than the pillowcase her head rested on. I wanted badly to see her eyes, to reassure myself that their dark green depths still glowed with a humorous appreciation for life, but they remained shut. At least movement beneath her eyelids kept her from looking dead.

Thomas went at once to her side and lifted the hand that didn’t have a wire attached to the finger with some sort of clothespin-like connector. He looked at her so tenderly I knew it couldn’t have been his first encounter with her.

“How do you know Laura?” I asked.

He pulled his gaze away from her, but only briefly, as if to remind himself I was in the room. “We went to law school together.”

“Laura’s a lawyer?”

“No. She didn’t finish,” he said, a memory—good or bad, I couldn’t really tell—distancing his eyes.

“Why not? The lure of spy-dom too much for her?”

“Something like that.” His voice grew more remote, and I knew I shouldn’t pursue it.

Yeah, right.

It’s not that I don’t recognize signals. I am, in fact, supremely adept at picking up on all sorts of subtle conversational clues. My problem is with impulse control of the mouth. “So, were you guys an item back in the day, or what?”

Thomas gave me that big-brother, stay-out-of-my-business look he’s so good at. “We dated for a while,” he said in a tone that didn’t invite further questioning. Huh. Like that ever worked with me.

“So why’d you stop? I like Laura.”

“It wasn’t entirely my idea.”

Oooh! Maybe he’d introduced her to Mark. Maybe she met Mark, fell in love, and followed him over to the CIA! Poor Thomas. No wonder he hadn’t presented Mom with a bride yet—he was pining for Laura.

I patted his arm.

“Stop it,” he said, annoyed.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking. Whatever your little brain is concocting is not what happened, and, no, I am not going to tell you any more than that.” His face slammed the door on sympathetic sisterly discussion.

I tried anyway. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

I couldn’t tell him, either, because the same nurse led another man in, the Harvey Mark had mentioned, I figured. He was a heavy guy but carried it well. The expensively tailored suit helped, and the gray peppering his dark hair added a certain gravity to his otherwise jolly appearance.

The nurse spoke first. “Two of you are going to have to leave. Ms. Vale shouldn’t have more than one visitor at a time, and then only for a few minutes.” Her eyes scanned the monitors while she addressed us. Thomas and Harvey ignored her while they sized each other up.

“Halligan,” Harvey said with a brisk nod, his second chin wobbling with the motion.

“Smith,” Thomas responded, mouth stiff, like the name tasted bad.

Harvey seemed about to say something back to him, but instead turned to me and extended a hand. “I’m Harvey Smith, a friend of Laura’s.”

I thought I heard Thomas snort, but his face was blank when I stole a glance at him. I took Harvey’s hand. His handshake was firm but not macho—points for him. “I’m Ciel Halligan, Thomas’s sister. I met Laura in Sweden.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about you. Laura spoke very highly of you.” His smile was warm and, I thought, genuine. He seemed a jovial fellow overall. But for some reason Thomas couldn’t stand him, so I kept my radar up and running.

There was a small sound from the bed as the nurse checked one of Laura’s tubes. Harvey went to her. The nurse stepped aside, and I saw Laura’s eyes had opened.

“Hey, kiddo. You been setting yourself up as target practice?” Harvey teased in a favorite uncle sort of way. Laura’s lips curled before she opened her eyes.

“Hey, Harv. What are you doing here?” she said, her voice scratchy and painful to listen to.

“Somebody has to watch out for you. At least until you learn not to step in front of stray bullets. Who do you think you are—Supergirl?”

The merest hint of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Whatever Thomas felt about Harvey, it was apparent Laura liked him. “Me? Careful? Where’s … the fun … in that?”

“Fun, schmun. You know the rules. You screwed up, kiddo.”

The smile disappeared in a wave of what looked like shame. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Thomas’s face kept its stony reserve throughout their exchange, but his eyes gave him away. He cared for Laura, and it was killing him to see her like this. I cleared my throat not only to break his pained fixation, but to let Laura know we were there.

She turned, her eyes flitting past Thomas to me, and then jerking at once back to him. She swallowed, hard, and the tears that had pooled in her eyes spilled over. “Hello, Tom. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m here for Billy. Mark asked me to come.” Voice neutral, perfectly pleasant, leaking none of the censure I saw in his eyes. Judging from the way Laura set her mouth, she saw it, too.

“Is Billy all right?”

“He’s in jail,” Thomas replied bluntly. “For shooting you.”

“I see.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

She closed her eyes. “For the time being, yes.”

I shoved myself in front of Thomas. “Wait a minute—Billy couldn’t have done it. Laura? Who did it?
Not
Billy.”