Undercover Passion (9 page)

The nurse left and they went back into the room.

“I've got to get going,” Daniel said to his grandmother.

“Me, too,” Abby said.

Phoebe grabbed her hand, not letting her go. “Wait a minute. I have something I want to say. Daniel, did you get that envelope out of the top drawer of the desk in the den that I asked you to bring me?”

Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out
a small envelope. “Sure did. Looks like tickets to the Opera Center.” He handed it to her. “What are you planning to see there?”

Phoebe took the envelope and peeked inside, smiling. “
Madame Butterfly.
The tickets are for next Monday.”

Daniel grimaced. “You won't be out of here yet, I'm afraid. At least, from what the doctor told me this morning.”

She nodded happily. “I know that. I'm going to have to miss it. But you two will go in my place. Won't you?”

“What?” they both cried in unison.

“It's the perfect solution.” She beamed at them. “I can't stand to think of my two seats sitting empty during the performance. But if you two go…”

“I can't go,” Daniel said quickly.

Phoebe's smile dimmed. “Why not?” Her challenge was sharp.

“I'm going to be busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Gram!”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed very hard, reaching out and taking Abby's hand again as well.

“Please go,” she said, her face anxious. “As a favor to me.”

His jaw tightened. She looked so small and vulnerable. He glanced sideways at Abby. She was staring at him, her eyes wide.

“Do you want to go?” he asked gruffly.

“I've never been to the opera,” she said.

He gave her a half smile of surrender. “Then I guess it's time you went,” he said.

Phoebe sighed happily and fell back against her pillows. “You don't have to stay for the whole thing,” she said, suddenly visibly weakening. “If you hate it, you can leave at intermission.”

Daniel leaned down and kissed her forehead. “We won't hate it,” he promised her, taking the tickets. “Thanks, Gram. Now you get some rest.”

Abby thanked her, too, and they started to leave the room together.

“Daniel!”

He turned back to see what she wanted. She motioned for him to lean close and spoke softly.

“You come back when you can. Alone.” She grinned at him mischievously. “I've got something for you.”

“What?”

“On the case, I mean.” She winked at him significantly.

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that. Come back this afternoon and I'll tell you everything.”

He smiled at her indulgently. “Okay, Gram. You take a nap in the meantime.”

“I'll try to,” she said, her voice trailing after him as he made his way out. “But they'll be bringing in a tray and forcing me to eat something soon.”

He waved from the doorway, then found, to his surprise, that Abby was waiting for him in the hall.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked, looking a bit anxious.

“No. She just wanted to tell me something.” He studied her face, touched by her concern. “Thanks for being so nice to her,” he added gruffly.

Her smile lit the area. “Oh, that's no trouble at all. She's a peach.”

“She is that,” he agreed. It was nice to meet a woman who was concerned about other people as much as she was about anything. Nice—and unusual. Still, he had certain concerns himself.

“But listen,” he added, frowning slightly, “don't encourage her about the cruise thing, okay? It's impossible. She can't go. I don't want to see her getting her hopes up.”

“Really?” Abby looked as though it mattered to her that Phoebe would be disappointed. “That's a shame. She is so looking forward to it.”

He shook his head. He wasn't going into it any further, but he wanted her to know there was no use pursuing it. “Can't be done,” he said shortly.

Then he hesitated. The next step would be to ask if she was busy for lunch, wouldn't it? After all, if they were going to the opera together, what harm would an hour for lunch do? It was on the tip of his tongue, when she gave him a brief smile and turned to go.

“Well, I have to get back to work,” she said.

He hesitated, then turned, too, and walked beside her toward the elevator. The moment had passed and he was glad it had. Hanging with this angel in pink could get to be dangerous. Best to avoid it. But that didn't mean he wasn't a bit resentful that she'd stayed around, tempting him, and then snatched temptation out of his reach just when he'd begun to weaken.

“Got a meeting with the great Dr. Richie?” he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“No,” she answered as they stepped onto the elevator. “Not at all.” She turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. “Why would that be so bad, anyway?”

“No reason.” He shrugged, regretting it already. It wouldn't do to make her think he cared. “Forget I said that.”

“Okay.” The elevator doors opened and she stepped off. “See you next Monday?”

“Sure. I'll come by and get you about six-thirty. Okay?”

She dazzled him with a smile even brighter than the ones he'd already survived. “Okay.”

And she was off down the corridor, heading for the clinic. But he didn't move. He'd just looked at the sun and it was a few moments before he could shake off the blindness.

A
bby was walking on air and she wasn't really sure why. Daniel was acting strangely, being obstinate, trying to hold back from allowing anything to grow between them. She wasn't sure why that was, either. But she wasn't going to let it rain on her parade.

“I'm going to the opera,” she reminded herself, laughing softly to think of Daniel listening to tenors and sopranos. Heavy metal would have seemed more his taste. Regardless, it was going to be an adventure. And she hoped there would be more kissing involved. At the very least.

Walking quickly toward her office, she noticed someone in the courtyard. Ordinarily that wouldn't have occasioned a second glance, but there was something about the woman that seemed odd. She almost seemed to be skulking.

It wasn't until Abby stepped out into the open-air atrium that she realized she recognized the woman as someone she'd seen before. She was short and attractively compact, and her blond hair shone in the sunlight. Large dark glasses hid her eyes.

“Hello, there,” Abby called to her. “Can I help you?”

The woman jumped, startled, and for a second or two looked definitely guilty. “Oh, uh…”

Abby walked forward, hand outstretched. “My name is Abby Edwards and I'm the public relations representative for the clinic.”

The woman tried to smile but made sad work of it. Still, she did take Abby's offer of a handshake. “Carrie Martin,” she said.

“I've seen you at some of the seminars.”

“Have you?”

“Yes. But you've never come forward and registered for any of the classes.” Abby smiled at her. “Tell me…what's your hesitation?”

Carrie seemed not to hear her at first. She kept turning to gaze into the conference room that could be seen through a bank of large windows. She didn't look so much confused as distracted. Glancing at Abby, she said, “I—I guess I'm just not ready…”

Abby frowned, not sure how to approach this. Still, she had to try to do something. The woman obviously was unhappy in some way. Surely the clinic could give her assistance. That was what they were here for—or at any rate, that was what she was writing up in the brochures.

“Let me see if I can help you.” Abby took her hand again, looking into her face with a genuine compassion. “I can call one of our counselors to come over right now and—”

“No!” Carrie pulled her hand away quickly. “No, no. I don't want to do that. I don't need counseling.”

Abby frowned thoughtfully. “Who would you like to see, then?”

Carrie looked away and half laughed. “Your Dr. Richie, actually.”

“Tell you what.” Abby brightened. “I'm going over to his office right now. Would you like to come along and—”

“Dr. Richie?” Carrie looked surprised. “I could talk to him right now?”

“Sure. It's not the way we usually operate, but I think I could get him to speak to you for just a moment or two. Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “Of course.”

“Then let's go.” Abby turned toward the door that led to his office.

But Carrie drew back. “No! Oh, no. I'm not ready for that.”

Abby smiled encouragingly. “He doesn't bite, believe me. He's a very nice man.”

“Is he?” She seemed to be really asking the question. Lifting her dark glasses, she stared at Abby for a long moment as though trying to figure her out. “How well do you know him?”

“Well, I've only been working here for a few weeks, but…”

The glasses dropped in place again and she shrugged. “That explains it.” Turning, she headed for the exit. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she called back. “Another time maybe.”

Abby watched her go, shaking her head.
Maybe she just didn't have the knack. She would have to talk to Dr. Richie about it.

Carrie Martin seemed troubled, but she was quite an attractive woman who carried herself as though she were aware, educated and bright. So why did she seem to be in another world? Hard to say.

Abby turned back toward her office, planning to pick up a few papers and go on over to see Dr. Richie. As she turned, she caught sight of herself in the glass and she had to stop and stare in astonishment. Her skirt was downright loose! That formula of the doctor's really did work.

She shrugged, made a face at herself in the glass.

“He's a genius,” she reminded herself. “And I'm glad I work for him.”

And she didn't care what Daniel had to say about the matter. Though she had to admit, his cynicism was beginning to bother her a bit. He saw the clinic and the doctor from a very different perspective. He didn't understand that working with this institution was a life saver for her. Dr. Richie was giving her a chance. She would be forever grateful to him for that alone. Daniel just didn't understand.

Well then, it was her duty to bring him to the
truth of the situation. Good thing she was going to have a chance when they went to the opera.

The opera! What did one wear to the opera? Something fabulous, of course. She did a quick mental inventory of her closet and knew there wasn't one thing fabulous in it. No problem. The mall was only blocks away. She could easily take an hour off and do some quick shopping.

Something long and slinky, she thought, half dreaming. Something with lots of glittery stuff on it. Something completely different from anything she'd ever owned before. After all, she was skinny enough now. And after only a few days. Of course, she'd only had a few pounds to lose. She might as well quit using it. She'd lost enough weight and she hated letting anything artificial affect her in any way. So the experiment was over, as far as she was concerned.

“Test successful,” she jotted down on her calendar, making a mental note to check just how much she had lost on her scale that evening.

And now to drop in to see Dr. Richie—and then, to the mall!

 

Daniel was back in his grandmother's room later in the afternoon. He'd had another talk with
her doctor and he was worried. There seemed to be evidence of blood clotting in the veins of her legs, something that had put her in the hospital earlier in the summer.

“We've got her on a strong anticoagulant,” the doctor told him. “But she's got to be carefully watched. Blood thinners can be dangerous. I'm afraid we were right and it will be a few more days before we dare let her go home.”

The news hit him harder than he expected. His grandmother had always been so healthy until the last few months. The fall had been tough to take, but it was a normal occurrence. Blood clots were something else again, something he didn't know how to detect or deal with. In his line of work he knew very well that the unknown was usually much scarier than the known. And yet he was scared. He couldn't help it. She was the only parent figure he'd known for years and he didn't want to lose her. Not yet.

Looking at her gray hair against the light-blue pillow, he felt a wave of affection for her and his eyes stung a little. It took a moment for him to realize the sting just might be a threat of tears. He
fought that back quickly. No way was he going to start bawling.

“Hey,” he said to her, trying to be cheerful. “What's up?”

“Oh.” She opened her eyes and beamed at him. “I'm so glad you're here. I've got things to tell you.” She looked behind him. “Check the door. Is there anyone in the hall?”

She made him smile; she was having so much fun with this. So, despite the fact that he didn't expect to get much out of it, he did as she ordered, checking to make sure no one could overhear them. Then he came back and sat in the chair beside her bed.

“Okay. Here goes.” She settled back against the pillows, getting comfortable. “Arline—that's the little redheaded nurse—”

“Yes, I know Arline.”

“She stopped in and I got her talking about the clinic.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. I asked her what it used to be like before Dr. Richie came and she really opened up. I got a whole load of gossip.”

Gossip. Relationships. He said, she said.

He groaned silently. This could go on for hours. He only hoped there would be some real information to be gleaned from it. You never did know.

“I'll skip most of the feuds and the indiscretions and the baby found in the clothes hamper. Oh, and the alligator races. Save all that stuff for another day. I want to give you the relevant info in a nutshell.”

“Alligator races?”

She patted his hand. “It's a long story. Anyway, the crux of the matter is that Dr. Richie was hired against the wishes of some of the most senior members of the hospital board.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You don't say.”

“It seems that a certain Faye Lassen had been groomed for the role.”

Daniel nodded. “I know Faye. She helps out at the seminars.”

“Well, she was working her little fingers to the bone with high expectations, and when Dr. Richie came barreling into town, sweeping all before him with a media frenzy, poor Faye was left gaping like a fish out of water. The position she expected, the one she'd been laying all the
groundwork for, went to the new guy with the TV-friendly smile.”

“Poor Faye indeed.”

“Yes.” Phoebe looked thoughtful. “I think I knew her mother. Nice woman. Large teeth. Tended to snort when she laughed, but otherwise—”

“Gram, you're straying from the subject.”

“So I am. Well, it seems this Faye does have a few partisans, but on the whole, everyone has become so infatuated with the glittering celebrity of Dr. Richie, there seems to be little hope that Faye will ever be recognized for all her hard work and good deeds. Arline thinks resentment is smoldering.” Phoebe gave him a wise look. “Motivation for mischief?” she suggested significantly.

Daniel looked innocent. “What mischief?”

“Well, I don't know,” she said indignantly. “But I'm sure if you're on a case involving the clinic, then there's mischief afoot. As night follows day.”

Daniel laughed. “If everyone had a grandmother as crafty as you, the world would be in total chaos,” he said.

“You're avoiding my question.”

“Sorry, Gram. I'm going to have to plead the fifth on that one.”

“Oh!” She wrinkled her nose in frustration. “You can trust me.”

“You have no need to know.”

“Then tell me about you and Abby. What's going on?”

His frown was meant to stop this line of questioning in its tracks. “There is nothing going on between me and Abby.”

Her skeptical look gave that statement just what it deserved.

“Does she know you're a cop?”

He hesitated, wincing a little. “No. At least, I haven't told her.”

Phoebe nodded. “It's time you told her.”

He knew that. But right now it wouldn't be helpful.

“I'll tell her just as soon as I can. Once I have this investigation under control.”

“That'll be too late,” Phoebe told him wisely. “Tell her now. And to heck with your investigation.”

Easy for you to say, he thought to himself as he made his way down the hall. To heck with his investigation, huh? Might as well say to heck with his job, his life, his self-worth. He couldn't join
his grandmother. A man didn't throw away everything that mattered to him just because a woman under some bogus love spell was making eyes at him.

He turned a corner and there she was, coming toward him at a brisk pace, walking side by side with Dr. Richie. She was nodding at something the doctor was saying but her eyes met Daniel's and she brightened visibly.

Dr. Richie didn't spare him a glance. He passed without acknowledging Daniel's existence, but Abby gave him a wink and a secret smile that somehow managed to convey the sense of having a private joke that was understood by just the two of them and no one else.

Suddenly she wheeled and turned back, hurrying up to Daniel and whispering near his ear.

“I found out about the atomizers.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did. I'll call you later and I'll tell you all about it.”

A quick, mischievous grin and she was off, catching up with the doctor before he even noticed she'd been gone.

Daniel turned and watched as they disappeared
around the corner and found himself grinning like a loon for no reason whatsoever. Quickly he doused it. What was wrong with him anyway? She managed to get to him somehow, every time.

He was going to go home and have a beer and watch some baseball and forget all about Abby Edwards and her pretty face and nicely rounded body. If he could.

 

Rain. Steady, depressing rain.

So what else was new? Rain in Portland? What a surprise.

Daniel turned up the collar on his windbreaker and walked quickly from the parking lot to the hospital. The puddle by the entryway was as large as a lake. Something was leaking somewhere. He edged his way around the water, centered and wiped his feet on the length of mat that had been laid down for that purpose, grumbling all the way. Looking up, he saw Wilbur Mason coming out of Ella Crown's shop.

“Here,” Ella said, following him out and slapping a box of candy in his hands. “I don't want your presents. I don't want your poems. I don't want your love letters. I don't want you hanging
around like a lovesick goat. Just stay away from me! Do you understand?”

Daniel looked at Wilbur, expecting to see a hangdog to be pitied. Instead, the man seemed to be responding strangely to Ella's rejection.

“Ella, Ella, Ella,” he was saying, a goofy smirk on his face. “You're so cute when you're mad.” His face changed. “I know what'll get ya,” he said, looking as though he'd just discovered the secret of life. “A serenade.” He snapped his fingers, seeming to be talking to himself. “A Spanish song. A rose between my teeth. That'll do it.”