Careless Rapture (35 page)

Clay kept hold of his father’s hand and
drifted off to sleep.

***

As evening set, the sun lengthened the
shadows in the room, bathing the area in a rosy-peach hue. Jackie
adjusted Clay’s bedclothes before she headed to the cafeteria for
something to eat. She’d been in the hospital since he’d been
admitted. When he finally opened his eyes, she wanted to be the
first person he saw. She wanted him to know he was never alone.
Someone knocked on the door and she turned. “Come in.”

Nicolas entered the room. “How is he?”

“They’ve had to give him drugs to stimulate
his heart, but he’s going to recover.” The doctors weren’t certain,
but she was.

He set a small potted plant on the side table
next to the cards and flowers Clay had received. “I can’t believe
he did what he did. I keep seeing it in my dreams.” He shook his
head. “It was foolish in a way. We could have come back for Amanda.
We could have come up with another plan.”

“Yes, but by doing what he did, he freed them
all. Not just one.”

Nicolas fell silent, staring at the oxygen
mask over Clay’s mouth. “You’re right.”

“Good.”

He stood by the bed, then turned to her, his
eyes a startling blue in the dying light. “I still don’t believe in
God or souls and all that stuff, but he helped me to gain a faith
of a different kind. In my job I’ve seen people do cruel things to
each other.” He shook his head, grim. “I’d lost my faith in the
goodness of man. In dignity, in honor, in truth, even in love. He
gave those back to me. When he wakes up, thank him for me.”

“Thank him yourself.”

“Can he hear me?”

“He can squeeze your hand.”

“That’s just a nerve impulse.”

“I believe he can hear you, however, you can
believe whatever you want to.”

Nicolas rested his hand on the bed next to
Clay’s. “I still don’t know why you did it, but thanks anyway.” He
wasn’t sure whether it was because he wanted to believe or if it
actually happened, but Clay’s little finger moved to touch his.

Days later, Clay opened his eyes and regained
his speech. He’d lost some vision in his left eye due to nerve
damage and his left hand trembled a bit, but otherwise he was
expected to make a full recovery. Although pleased with the
constant flow of well-wishers, he wished they would stop—until
Drake entered the room holding Marcus.

Marcus bent over to kiss him on the cheek,
then asked, “Is your boo-boo all better?”

“It’s getting there.”

“Don’t you know poison can kill you?” Drake
said.

Cassie entered the room with Ericka. “He
wanted to make sure you knew that,” she said to Clay, and kissed
him on the cheek. “Next time just read the label.”

He smiled, his eyes drinking in the sight of
them as though they were the very antidote needed to make him well.
“I’ll remember that.”

Drake glanced at Jackie. “Is she taking good
care of you?”

“Yes. Umm, about—”

“Good. I want you well enough for it.”

“For what?”

“You still owe me a drink.”

“Did I hear the word ‘drink’?” Kevin said,
coming into the room. “What are we celebrating?”

Drake’s smile fell. Kevin ignored him. He
turned to Cassie and gave her a big kiss on the mouth. Drake’s
frown increased. Kevin pinched Marcus’s nose and Ericka’s chin,
making the two children giggle. Kevin finally turned to Drake and
said, “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

Cassie grabbed Drake’s arm as his eyes
darkened.

“We’d better go. Take care.”

Jackie wagged her finger at Kevin after
they’d left.

“You’re terrible. Must you annoy him?”

He shrugged without remorse. “Hey, he got the
girl. I have to come out with something.” He walked over to the
bed. “So how is the patient?”

“Recovering,” Clay said.

“Are the nurses treating you well?”

“Yes.”

Kevin raised a devilish brow. “How well?”

“I haven’t died, so I’d say very well. I have
one nurse who’s very kind.”

Kevin leaned forward with interest. “What’s
her name? I’d like to thank her.”

“His name is Roger.”

Kevin jerked back. “You have a male nurse?
What they hell are they thinking? You nearly died. You should get
the best—a woman. Who the hell wants to wake up to hairy arms and
no chest? I’ll get you another one.”

“I don’t need another one. He’s good.
Besides, if need a woman, I have Jackie.”

Kevin glanced at her and winked. “Yes, that’s
true.”

“Thanks for stopping by.”

Kevin looked embarrassed. “Yes, well, they’ve
been writing about Amanda’s rescue and I thought I’d stop by and
see the hero.”

“He’s not here.” Clay held out his hand. “By
the way, thanks for helping me out that night with Faye.”

Kevin shook his hand, then frowned,
concerned. “You’re acting nice. This isn’t like you.”

“I know.” He smiled. “Doesn’t suit the
image.”

Kevin returned the expression. “Right.”

“It’s likely the drugs talking, but consider
stopping by when I’m out of here.”

Kevin hesitated, shocked by the casual offer
of friendship. He finally said, “I will.”

***

Three days later they released him. “At
last,” Clay said as the nurse helped him into a wheelchair. “I’m
finally going home.”

“You have to take things easy,” Jackie
said.

“I will.”

“We’ll make sure,” Bertha said, standing
behind him.

Clay sent Jackie a look of panic, then turned
to Bertha. “How long are you planning to stay?”

She patted his arm. “Never you mind.”

“But—”

“Come on,” Jackie said. “We’ll discuss it
later.”

Clay smiled as he passed through the glass
doors of the hospital. He was ready to breathe the fresh air, see
the sun. However, once outside the sun almost blinded him with a
bright flash. And another. Voices began to attack him like a swarm
of bees.

“No comment,” Jackie said as she and Bertha
pushed past the photographers and reporters who assaulted them with
questions.

“How’s he doing?”

“Has Amanda come to visit?”

“Will you testify at Emmerick’s trial?”

“Can’t we get just one statement?”

Without comment, Clay, Bertha, and Jackie all
ducked into Jackie’s car and sped away.

A good distance away from the ambush, Clay
rolled down his window. He rested his head back, letting the wind
brush his face. “So I’m still here.”

Bertha patted his shoulder. “Yes, and you’ll
live a long while yet.”

He turned to her as she sat in the backseat.
“How did you meet Emmerick?”

“I heard him on the phone.”

“So you heard a man’s voice on the phone and
decided to meet him?”

“I guessed who he was and wanted to help. I
wanted to know more about the man Rennie had loved and tried to
betray.”

“And you couldn’t tell me this?”

“Would you have let me?”

“No.”

“A part of me was intrigued by him. I suppose
if I really admitted it, I felt as though I needed him. Some of
what he said made sense. However, what you did made even more
sense. I realized one thing I never gave you and Rennie: I never
made you feel as though you mattered. I’m sorry for that.”

He shrugged and turned.

“Clay,” Jackie said, amazed. “Your mother is
trying to have a heart-to-heart moment with you. Don’t you
care?”

He glanced at Bertha, then pulled something
from inside his bag. “Here.” He tossed her a small box of
chocolates.

“Oh, ta, love,” she said, thrilled. She
ripped the box open.

He turned to Jackie. “There. We’ve had our
heart-to-heart moment.”

Jackie shook her head. “I don’t understand
you.”

He grinned. “Yes, you do.”

“Emmerick’s not a bad-looking fellow,” Bertha
said.

“Amazing how you notice the important
details,” Clay said.

“Yeah, one thing I found interesting.”

“What?”

“How different he sounded on the phone.”

The
recovery of Amanda Heldon made Clay a minor celebrity. He found his
picture in major newsmagazines and was interviewed for three news
programs—one on Internet predators and two about cults. A literary
agent contacted him about writing a book and another talked about a
movie deal.

Mack grinned at him as he entered the office.
“So how does it feel to be a hero?”

“I’m not a hero.”

He waved a newspaper. “This says you are. All
the papers do.”

“The papers like to make up stories. I’m an
ordinary guy that did a job. Amanda was the hero for surviving him.
I’m glad she’s safe. It almost makes me believe in happy
endings.”

“Almost?”

He knew Mack couldn’t understand him. Mack,
Brent, and Clay received one hundred thousand dollars each for
Amanda’s return. Clay was glad for the money, but his true reward
was the picture of Amanda in her parents’ arms. However, he wasn’t
satisfied and he wasn’t sure why.

“This is great for business,” Mack said.
“This case has put our business on another level. We can double our
fee and work less. Why can’t you be happy?”

Clay wanted to and was annoyed that he
couldn’t be. He didn’t know why. Emmerick was going to trial, no
one had quit HOPE Services in weeks, and there had been no more
suicides. “I should be happy.”

“But you’re not.”

“No. Perhaps I’m too cynical. Clean-cut
endings annoy me.”

Mack patted him on the back. “Take a break
and enjoy the limelight a little. You deserve it.”

“You do, too. You kept me on track.”

There was a knock on the door, then Mack’s
daughter Megan peeked her head inside. She was as blond as her
father, with devious blue eyes. “I’m looking for two heroes.”

Mack stood and gave a grand bow. “At your
service.”

Clay shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you. Your father speaks highly of you.”

“I’d say the same.” She sat on the corner of
Mack’s desk. “So who is the guy out front?”

“Our court jester,” Mack said.

Clay raised a brow. “He saved my life.”

Mack shoved on his reading glasses and
grunted.

“His name is Brent Holiday,” Clay said.

Megan glanced toward the door. “He’s
cute.”

Clay grinned. “He’s also single.”

Mack sent him a look. “There’s a reason for
that. He’s not the brightest bulb in the box.”

“That’s okay,” Megan said. “Clever men are
hard to keep track of.” She kissed her dad on the cheek. “You
taught me that. I’m going to introduce myself. I’ll be back.” She
left the room.

Clay clasped his hands together, pleased.
“Payback time, mate. I hope she marries him.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll have to pay for the
wedding.”

Mack groaned. “No, that won’t happen. Megan
wouldn’t do that to me.”

Clay’s sudden good humor died. He twirled his
pen solemnly.

Mack sighed. “Let it go, will you?”

“I want to, but the puzzle doesn’t fit.” He
swore. “It’s very annoying.”

“What doesn’t fit?”

“Why was Melanie the only one who talked
about Careless Rapture? Emmerick talked about Gabriella and Tanya
instead of her.”

“I told him about Gabriella and the Tanya
incident because I wanted to use that information to trap him.”

“Yes, you gave him the ammunition he wanted,
which doesn’t make sense because Melanie’s death would have been
better.”

Mack swung back and forth in his chair. “Do
you think he might not have known about her?”

“That’s possible.”

“Which would make you wonder why someone
would want you to believe she was involved with him.”

“And why his voice sounded different on the
phone.”

Mack frowned. “What?”

“My mum said he sounded different on the
phone than in real life. Jackie agreed. They said they couldn’t put
their finger on why.”

“An imitator?”

Clay twirled a pen. “Why?”

Mack sighed. “Damn, just when I thought it
was over.”

“It will be. Just let me work out some
scenarios.”

Megan entered the room, grinning. “I have a
date. Brent and I are going out this weekend.”

Clay nodded. “Have fun.”

“What will your mother say?”

Megan stuck her hands in her back pocket. “I
have good taste?”

Clay tossed his pen down. “Of course!”

Megan and Mack looked at him, confused.
“What?”

He pointed at Mack. “Your ex-wife.” He
pointed at Megan. “Your mother.” He joined his hands together. “It
fits. I just have to find out why.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The present and the past.”

“Someone who knew Emmerick is trying to blame
him for the deaths of the others?”

“Yes, and it’s someone who knows him well.”
He sent Mack a significant look.

Mack understood immediately. “Let’s get on
it.”

***

Sunday dinner at Cassie and Drake’s was full
of loud voices, laughter, and food. Drake had made Clay’s favorite
dish—Toad in the Hole. He’d added some spices, stating that English
food tasted like paste.

As they tucked into a dessert of soursop ice
cream, Eric tapped his glass and held up his hands. “I have an
announcement.”

Everyone turned and listened.

“We’re pregnant.”

Adriana stared at him, stunned. “No, we’re
not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“I should know.”

“Yes, you should,” he agreed. “You’ve missed
your period for nearly three months.”

“You’ve kept track?”Adrianna’s face burned
with embarrassment, along with the other women at the table. All
too shocked to move.

“It’s simple mathematics.” He took a sip.
“You haven’t bought a new box of tampons in that amount of
time.”

“Eric!” she said, her voice barely audible,
but clearly revealing her shock.