The Spirit Tree (20 page)

“Oh, the blue-eyed Adonis?” Hailey snickered.

“What blue-eyed Adonis?” Aaron whispered in my ear and slid his arms around my waist.

Hailey laughed as I blushed. “Speak of the devil.”

I eased from Aaron’s grip and took a sip of my drink. “Hailey, this is Aaron, Aaron, this is Hailey, my best friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m going to grab a table. Tessa, call me later.” She pointed and made a telephone with her fingers, mouthing “Call me” as she walked away.

“She doesn’t look pregnant.” Aaron claimed the stool Hailey had vacated.

“She’s not showing yet.” I didn’t remember telling him Hailey was pregnant. I studied Aaron’s face, noting the shadows under his eyes. “Are you coming down with something?”

Aaron shrugged. “I think it’s lack of sleep and too much junk food. This case has me working around the clock.”

“You need to take care of yourself.” I sipped my drink. “Did you find out anything about Marvin?”

“Nothing yet, but I have people looking for him. Someone should have really filled out a missing-person’s report before we invaded his privacy.”

“I know, but I don’t know how to get in touch with his family. Thanks for helping out.”

“I owed you one. You were right about the computer being missing.” He motioned for the bartender and ordered a Guinness.

“Did you track down the guy in the pictures?”

“Not yet. We’re waiting on a court order to crack into his e-mail, but I found his Facebook page. He used the same e-mail address we had to create his account.” Aaron took a drink of his beer. He then pushed it aside, looking rather green.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. So when we read Mrs. Rivera’s e-mails, we figured out she was having an affair with this guy.” Aaron grinned.

“That could explain him flipping out and killing her. But why would he take the kids?” While I enjoyed listening to Aaron talk about work, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable discussing the private life of a murder victim. Sure, I discussed people’s private lives every day for work, but
this felt different.

“There’s some discrepancy as to who fathered the children. There’s no way to know what’s true from reading the e-mails, but we think we’ve established a motive. Now, we just have to find him.” Aaron swayed on his stool.

I reached out and steadied him. “You look awful. Let me drive you home.”

“After you blocked my kiss, I wasn’t sure you were interested.” Aaron’s words slurred.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I think you need some sleep.” I stood and offered him my arm, surprised when he actually leaned most of his weight on me. Before I caught my balance, Aaron stumbled, pulling us to the floor.

Scott ran over and helped pull the passed-out Aaron off me. “Tessa, are you okay?”

“Help him.” I cradled Aaron’s head in my lap.

“We need an ambulance.” Scott called to the bartender, “Please call 911.”

“He’s drunk. Give him a minute, he’ll come around.” The bartender laughed.

I snapped my head toward the bar. “No, he had a sip of beer and passed out. He’s a cop, just got off work. Something is wrong. Call an ambulance.”

The bartender picked up the phone. I put my hand on Aaron’s forehead. “He’s burning up.”

I swallowed my panic. I had to stay in control for Aaron’s sake. Scott handed me a damp towel, and I placed it on Aaron’s brow. “Help is on the way, Aaron.”

He opened his eyes and smiled for a second before he drifted off again. Time slowed to a trickle. The paramedics came through the door and scooted me out of their way. I stood between Scott and Hailey, watching as they loaded Aaron on the gurney and wheeled him out of the bar.

“Wait, I’m going with him,” I called to one of the paramedics.

“Are you family?” He turned and prepped Aaron’s arm for an IV.

“No.”

He pulled a long needle from the sterile pack. “Sorry, miss. You’ll have to meet us at the emergency room. We’re taking him to Winter Park. Do you know where that is?”

I nodded, and they shut the door. Scott wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “We’ll drive you.”

“No, thanks, I learned my lesson the last time I accepted a ride to the hospital.”

“Be careful and don’t speed. It will be a while before they allow you to see him.” Hailey hugged me.

I sprinted to my car, left the parking lot, and dialed Bryson.

“Bryson, it’s Tessa. Something is wrong with Aaron. He collapsed. I’m following the ambulance to the hospital now.”

“Come pick me up. I’ll go with you,” Bryson replied.

“There’s no time. I need to get there.”

“Tessa, they won’t let you go back until they have him stabilized. Come pick me up. This is not negotiable.”

“Meet me in the parking lot.” I hung up and tossed my phone into the passenger seat. Bryson’s calmness impressed me. I felt like I was one beat away from falling apart.

The drive to my apartment went by in a blur. Bryson waited outside when I pulled up. He climbed in, and I pulled out into traffic, narrowly missing a large SUV in the process.

“Okay, slow down and tell me exactly what happened.” Bryson pulled his seat belt on and gripped the dashboard as I turned a corner.

“He looked sick when he came in. He took one sip of beer, we talked for a few minutes, and then he started to go sideways. I stood to help him, and he passed out.” I blew through a red light and checked in the rearview for flashing lights. I turned toward Bryson. The look in his eyes nearly stopped my heart. “Is it dark magic?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Bryson set his jaw and stared straight ahead.

I woke, surprised to find myself nestled into the curve of Bryson’s chest. The clock read six. No one had come to update us on Aaron’s progress. Across the waiting room, Samuels sat with his chin resting on his chest, sleeping.

I eased from Bryson’s embrace. “I’m going to go downstairs and get some breakfast for the three of us. Maybe some coffee will put Samuels in a better mood.”

“Don’t count on it.” Bryson yawned and stretched his arms out in front of his body.

A doctor stepped into the room. “For Aaron Burns?”

“Yes?” Samuels stood alert, faster than I would have thought possible.

Bryson and I joined Samuels. I didn’t like the concern in the doctor’s expression.

“Is there any family we should call?” the doctor asked.

I blurted out. “His parents passed away.”

“He has an uncle in California. Otherwise, there’s no family.” Samuels glanced between the doctor and me. “She’s his girlfriend, and I’m his partner. He’s a police detective, my partner.”

I asked, “How is he? Can we see him?”

“Normally, only family members are allowed to visit the patients in ICU, but in this case we can make an exception. Two at a time, and only for five minutes. He’s in critical condition. We haven’t been able to find the cause of infection. We’re currently giving him heavy doses of antibiotics. Has he traveled outside of the country in the past three weeks?” The doctor glanced between the three of us.

“No,” Samuels replied.

“It’s a good thing he was brought in when he was. His heart stopped twice in the emergency room.”

Everyone drew a collective breath. I had a sinking feeling that Aaron’s illness had to do with magic. My throat constricted and tears brimmed in my eyes. “It came on so fast. He was fine midday. When we met at eight, he looked worn-out, then he collapsed.”

The doctor’s eyes widened a fraction. “Sepsis can come on fast, but generally not that fast. Was he complaining of any pain, fever, confusion?”

Samuels and I shook our heads.

“I would try to contact the uncle in California. His situation is touch and go for the time being.” The doctor clasped his hands in front of his body. “Any questions?”

I asked, “Can we see him now?”

“Of course, follow me.” The doctor turned and walked toward the hall.

Samuels sat heavily in his chair. “You two go first. I need a few minutes.”

Bryson set his hand on the small of my back and guided me from the room. Samuels had his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. We hustled to catch up with the doctor, but everything changed to slow motion when the door closed behind us. The doctor guided us into a small cubicle containing Aaron, and far too many machines.

I stood, unable to move, as the beeps and whirls of the machines filled the silence. Aaron had a blue-and-white tube taped to his mouth, two IVs running into his arm, and various wires connecting leads on his chest to a nearby machine. He was nude, except for a small patch of sheet across his midsection. His chest rose and fell in time with the whooshing sound.

“He’s not breathing on his own,” I whispered as I moved to his side and placed my hand over his. “I don’t understand. What happened to him?”

Bryson held his hands a few inches over Aaron and moved them in small, slow circles. His eyes closed as he whispered something under his breath. After a moment, he pulled his hands back with a hiss.

My heart shattered into splintered pieces. I had caused this. My knees buckled as the room spun too quickly for me to catch my breath. Bryson wrapped his arms around me before I collapsed. Weeping into his chest and unable to form any intelligible thought, I gave myself over to guilt.

“We’ll figure this out.” Bryson stroked my back until I pulled myself together. “Leave me with him for a few minutes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Try to block the flow of magic.”

“Wouldn’t it be stronger if we did it together?” I grabbed Bryson’s hands, desperate to do something useful. This was my fault, my mess to clean up.

“Perhaps, but you’re too distraught. Let me try for now.”

“No. I can do this. I can help.”

He drew me to his chest and slid his hand under my hair so that his palm rested on the back of my neck. I couldn’t see what he was doing, only the change in his position and the straining of muscles. I closed my eyes and focused on sending my energy through Bryson. Each syllable he spoke was sharp, yet slurred into the next until it sounded more like a whispered song.

The beeping from the machines increased in tempo, mirroring the tempo of Bryson’s words. My ears burned. I expected to hear one long, steady beat—a flatline. The cadence increased until I couldn’t stand it. The sound stopped with a blip and returned to a normal rhythm. Bryson pulled his hand back and kissed the top of my head.

“You were right. We are stronger together.” He released me, only to take my hand and guide me from the cubicle.

We exited ICU and stood in the hall. “Will he be all right?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Samuels met us, intelligent cop eyes scanning the situation. He must not have liked what he saw because the color drained from his face. I reached my hand toward him. “Would you like me to go in with you?”

Samuels nodded.

Bryson took a step to the side. “I’ll go downstairs and get us some breakfast.”

Samuels squeezed my hand before releasing it. He squared his shoulders and followed as I pushed the door open and led him to Aaron. Samuels lagged behind a few feet, as if unsure he wanted to see what lay behind the curtain. When he finally saw Aaron, his reaction gutted me.

Samuels took Aaron’s hand and cried against it, bargaining with God, and anyone else who’d listen, for his partner’s life. I stepped from the space to give him some privacy, but he took my hand before I could retreat.

“Every officer knows ending up here is a possibility every morning when we go to work. This . . . this . . . isn’t right. I could handle a bullet.” He pleaded with his eyes for me to say something that would make sense of the situation.

“I’m sorry.” My guilt raged through me. Watching Samuels with Aaron reminded me of my own loss and the desperation that grief brings. Wouldn’t I have bargained with the devil to bring Charlie back?

Samuels stood, but kept a hold of Aaron’s hand. “He’s like a kid brother to me, or a son, even.”

I started to speak but clamped my mouth closed. I needed to say something to help this man—all of this was my fault. “I know what’s wrong with him.”

Samuels turned his head and narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Why did I open my big mouth? He’d never believe me. Would it be too far of a stretch for him to believe in bad people with bad magic? “Can we talk somewhere private?”

The detective nodded and escorted me back to the waiting room. His movements held such authority that I didn’t second-guess my decision to spill my guts, at least not yet. The shift from grieving friend to detective happened so fast, but how could I blame him? I understood his desperate need to understand, to do something to correct the situation.

“This is going to sound crazy. Promise to hear me out.” I sat in the corner of the waiting room, and Samuels took a seat across from me. “Off the record?”

“Off the record.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Aaron’s illness is being caused by a conjurer.”

Samuels shook his head and stood. “I’ve seen a lot of strange shit since you’ve been around, but this is too much.”

“Listen to me, please.”

He motioned for me to continue, and I explained my relationship with Dr. Hicks.

Samuels folded his arms. “Dr. Hicks? The same Dr. Hicks that Aaron is looking for?”

“Yes. Dr. Hicks is missing, and I need to find him.”

Samuels pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. “So let me get this straight. You’ve been fighting some evil spirit, and now it’s in Aaron?”

“Yes and no. It isn’t an evil spirit. It’s a man. A powerful man who uses dark magic to do bad things.”

“The guys you shot?” Samuels looked at me like I was certifiable.

“He was a wolf when I shot him, but turned into a man.”

He folded his arms and nodded. “Go on.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I was shot in the leg. There are police reports and hospital records, but I don’t have as much as a scratch on me. You saw my nose broken after that spirit hit me, and now it’s healed. Your men reported wolf tracks outside my aunt’s house, tracks too big to be a normal wolf. Hell, I was shot in the chest. Do you believe a cast-iron skillet could stop the bullet?” Two people sat on the other side of the room. I hoped no one was listening to this conversation.