Since You've Been Gone (28 page)

Finally Rebecca recognized the voice. The woman who'd been so sharp with her after her wreck at Dormaine's. She'd clearly thought Rebecca had plowed her car into the tree because she was drunk. She rose and started toward Sonia.

“Sit down, ma'am. You're dripping blood all over my rig.”

Rebecca looked down at her arms. The tugs on her wrists before the watcher had run. He'd cut them. “If I'm dripping blood, why don't you put better dressings on me?” Rebecca snapped.

“They'll do that at the hospital. You just chill out and quit making such a fuss.”

“I am not making a fuss,” Rebecca started, then shut up. The woman didn't like her. Nothing she said would make a difference.

By the time they reached the hospital, Rebecca felt dizzy. She stumbled out of the ambulance and someone came to help her. Before she could see his face, however,
she passed out. When she awakened, she was in an examining room. A nurse's face was about three inches away, and blurry. Rebecca almost screamed before the woman said, “It's all right, sweetheart. You're safe at the hospital.”

“Where's Sonia?” Rebecca demanded.

“Being treated by Dr. Bellamy. My name is Myra. Myra Kessel. I don't usually work the emergency room, but we're doing a landslide business tonight.” She took Rebecca's hand. “You really are all right, Miss Ryan. Just cuts on the wrists. Not as deep as they could be, but you've lost some blood.”

“People will think I tried to commit suicide.”

Myra smiled, a dozen laugh lines shooting out from her warm brown eyes. “People think you're a hero.”

“But I'm not. Sonia's hurt…”

“Sonia is alive thanks to you. Now I want you to lie back and rest. We're keeping your arms elevated and a physician's assistant is going to suture those wrists for you.”

“Okay.” Rebecca was suddenly dizzy again and lay back, closing her eyes against the bright light. The last hour seemed unreal. She still couldn't quite comprehend what had happened. But the nurse had said Sonia was alive. That's what mattered.

“Sonia's brother,” she said as the nurse prepared a suture tray. “He was at the library, Mrs. Kessel. Is he here now?”

“My name is Myra to heroes, and yes he is.”

“What about Mrs. Ellis?”

“We haven't been able to locate her. The brother said she was at choir practice but when they called the church, no one had seen her.” She smiled. “But your father is here. Would you like to see him?”

“He's my stepfather,” Rebecca said, “and I'd love to see him.”

“All right. On the condition that you lay down that pretty head and quit worrying. I told you everything is fine now. I'll be right back.”

Everything is fine now.
The words echoed in Rebecca's
head. Everything was fine except that someone tried to murder a seventeen-year-old girl. Someone would have murdered her, too, if Cory Ellis hadn't led the charge to break down the library door. Yes, everything is just dandy, Rebecca thought, except that there was a murderer on the loose.

Frank rushed into the examining room looking as if every drop of blood had drained from his face. His hazel eyes were too wide and for once his black-and-silver hair was askew. He stood beside her, touched her forehead, and muttered, “Good God, Rebecca. Are you all right?”

“I think physically I'm okay. Psychologically I'm not so sure. I just can't believe what's happened, Frank. This is more bizarre than anything I could think up for a book. I guess Mother isn't here.”

Frank still looked nonplussed but he answered calmly. “You know she wasn't well at dinner. I didn't even tell her what happened because she wasn't up to coming …”

“You mean she's still drunk. Well, that's okay. I've heard Mrs. Ellis isn't here, either. Not at choir practice where she's supposed to be.”

At last Frank smiled. “Because you're hurt, I'll tell you a piece of juicy gossip to cheer you up. I think Mrs. Ellis has been fibbing about going to choir practice. I'm fairly sure she's having an affair.”

Rebecca feigned deep shock. “The
minister's
widow?”

Frank nodded solemnly. “They're the worst kind. I'm drawing conclusions, but in the last three months she's lost about ten pounds, started wearing makeup, and been perkier than I've seen her for years. She's really quite an attractive woman now.”

“You should have been a detective, Frank. Does Cory know?”

“Certainly not. And I'm in a quandary. He's not only upset about his sister, he's worried about his missing mother although he's trying to hide it. I'm sure she hasn't told the children about a man in her life because she's so
uptight. So if I tell Cory to put his mind at ease, I expose her horrible secret.”

Rebecca grinned. “You're clever enough to come up with some excuse for her that will calm Cory. But tell him something fast. It's awful to let him think something bad might have happened to his mother after what did happen to Sonia.”

“You're right. I said you were wise.” He sobered. “Dear, how on earth did you know to go to the library to save Sonia?”

“She told me she was going to the library. Then I got a vision of someone lurking around, planning to kill her. I know you don't believe in my visions, but—”

“I'm fast becoming a believer. I'm sorry I doubted you all these years.”

“It never bothered me. Really. But I do have them and I have to live with them.”

“And thanks to you, Sonia will live as well.” He sighed. “Since her mother isn't here, I think I should play surrogate father. Do you mind if I leave you for a few minutes to check on her?”

“I'm frantic to know how she is. Please look after her, Frank. She needs someone strong.”

As he left the room, Rebecca felt sad for him. After Patrick died, Frank had been strong for Suzanne. Rebecca didn't know what would have happened to her mother without him. Then he'd been strong for her again after the death of Jonnie. And he'd always been strong for Rebecca, too, supporting her decision to go to New Orleans, even making the first trip with her and staying a couple of days until she got settled. She remembered their visit to the French Quarter and the lovely dinners he'd treated her to. And she remembered the money he'd pressed on her, insisting that she eat well and try to have some fun. After all, she wouldn't come into her trust fund until she was 21. She shouldn't have to wait until then for pretty clothes and a trip over spring break.

Then he'd been strong for Molly when she gave birth
to Todd. And now he was stepping in with Sonia. Being the rock seemed to be his lot in life, and Rebecca was certain the strain was showing. Frank looked older, his movements were slower, and some of the sparkle had gone from his fine eyes. He didn't even smile as easily. She suddenly felt angry with her mother for not being kinder to him.

And then she was out again. Just like a light that had been flipped off. When she awakened, she was covered with an extra blanket and a young man was suturing her wrist. “What happened?” she asked in a blurry voice.

“You passed out again. You've been through a lot, Miss Ryan. Do your arms hurt?”

“I'm not aware I even have arms.”

He smiled. “You have two good ones. And I'm going to suture them so well you'll barely have scars. I'm a master of sutures.”

“Clay Bellamy says he's the master of sutures.”

“So
he
thinks.” The young man grinned. “I'm kidding. You can do that with him. Joke around, I mean. Some doctors think they're God on high. Not Doc Bellamy. Anyway, he's been in twice to check on you. He'll be back. And that Ellis kid wants to see you.”

“Sonia?”

“No, the brother. You don't have to see him.”

“I'd like to, really. When you finish, would you send him in?”

Shortly afterward a reed-thin boy of around fourteen with shaggy black hair and acne crept into the examining room. He wore baggy jeans that looked ready to slide off his nonexistent hips and a Megadeth T-shirt. Sonia was a beauty. Cory reminded Rebecca of Ichabod Crane with his long neck, prominent Adam's apple, and huge darting eyes. “So how're you doin'?” he asked.

“Fine, thanks to you,” Rebecca said. “You broke down that door to the Pioneer Room.”

“The glass was double-paned with wire mesh in the middle of the panes.”

“Heavy security. I guess the library board is afraid someone will break in and steal those flint arrowheads in the display cases, as if you can't find one buried in the ground every six inches in this area.” Cory's laugh emerged as a two-octave squawk. He blushed furiously and shuffled his feet. “Why did you come to the library, Cory? You didn't seem worried about Sonia when I called.”

“I wasn't then, but after I got off the phone I got this weird vibe about her. I mean, she keeps talkin' about nobody believin' her about how the kidnappin' went down. I mean, about that nurse bein' home when she said she wasn't. And you sounded funny—funny creepy, not funny ha-ha. Then I started thinkin' about the
Planet of the Apes
movies.”

Rebecca stared at him, baffled. “What did
Planet of the Apes
have to do with anything?”

“Well, in the movies things weren't what they seemed to be and you understood and didn't think they were stupid so maybe you see what's underneath the surface.” This maze of logic escaped Rebecca but she nodded. “Then I talked to someone who knows you and they said you have ESP. That is
so
cool, so
X-Files.
I think maybe I have it, too. What do you think?”

“I don't know,” Rebecca said faintly.

“But if I have it, looks like I'd know where my mom is,” Cory said, clearly disturbed by the absence of his mother although he was hiding his anxiety under chatter about ESP. “I mean, she never misses choir practice. But she hasn't made Sonia and me go to church every Sunday lately. Maybe that means somethin'.”

Maybe it means she hasn't been at choir practice so she can't be in the choir on Sunday and you'll want to know why if you attend services, Rebecca thought. “I believe Frank—Mr. Hardison, your mother's boss—might have an idea about where your mother could be. Why don't you talk to him?”

“Why would he know where she is?” Cory asked, his voice jumping again. “You think she might lose her job?”

“No, I'm sure she won't. He thinks very highly of her.” And I am exhausted, Rebecca thought.

“Oh, it's your ESP,” Cory said excitedly. “You know that
he
knows. This is just
too
cool. I gotta work on mine, sharpen it up.” Rebecca smiled wanly. “I'll go find Mr. Hardison right now. Hope you feel better. And thanks for savin' Sonia. I mean, sometimes she's a real pain, but I wouldn't want her to die or anything.”

With this eloquent expression of sentiment for his sister, Cory dashed from the examining room. Rebecca sighed in relief, then smiled at Cory's excitement over his possible ESP. He didn't know what he was hoping for.

Clay arrived after what seemed an interminable time. He, too, looked pale and worried, but he tried to joke. “Is it possible to keep you out of trouble?”

“I don't think so.”

“I've gotten a dozen jumbled stories about what happened. Promise to give me the true version later?”

“I promise, but it was bizarre even for a weirdo like me. How's Sonia?”

“A couple of burns from that stun gun. A concussion. Some pulled ligaments in her neck. Mostly shock. Her mother finally arrived and that seemed to soothe her. Naturally she'll be here for the night so we can run more tests.”

“I'm so relieved about her. When do I get to go home?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What? Why not tonight?”

“Because whether or not you want to admit it, you're not Superwoman. You've put in one hell of a week and it's drained you. You fainted twice. Once you were on the verge of going into shock.”

“I hate hospitals, Clay.”

“I'm sorry, but you'll have to be a big girl and bear it. I'll give you something to help you sleep and first thing you know, it'll be morning and you'll be going home.”

“Can you smuggle in Sean?”

“Not without causing yet another scandal.” He lifted her
wrist. “Pretty soon you're going to be completely held together by sutures.”

Rebecca frowned. “The watcher wasn't trying to kill me.”

“The watcher?”

“I could see through his eyes so that's how I thought of him. Or her. Anyway, the purpose of these cuts wasn't to murder me. I don't understand why he did it.”

“He was trying to brand you.”

“Brand me?” Clay nodded. “Here I thought you were going to be a private investigator and now you're a criminal profiler.”

“I admit that my talents are legion.” Clay said solemnly. He was trying to sound light, but his eyes were dark with worry. “I don't know how I came up with the branding theory, but it feels right. You're correct—he certainly couldn't have been trying to kill you by severing surface vessels. The cuts aren't even deep enough to injure tendons and ligaments and cause permanent harm, thank God. But there will be scars.”

“I told that nice nurse Myra Kessel that people would think I tried to kill myself.”

“Exactly. They're scars that will make you self-conscious, something you'll try to hide, try to explain if they're spotted. They'll make you
look
suicidal, unstable. So maybe it's a punishment for screwing up a murder attempt.”

“Wow, you're deep. I had no idea.”

“I try to hide my astounding perceptiveness beneath boyish charm.”

“You do an excellent job.”

“Well, I see you're back to normal. I was afraid you'd come out of this all serious and sweet.” He cast her a sideways look. “Maybe even in love with me?”