Critical Diagnosis (16 page)

Warmth spiraled around her heart. Lily met his steady gaze. “Good night.”

“Hey, don’t I get a kiss?” Kara held up her arm in a languid manner and let it flop over the back of the couch.

James took her hand and patted it with the other in a strictly platonic gesture. “You know I only have eyes for Lily.” He turned and winked at Lily.

Lily punched him playfully on the arm. “Now go. I’m tired.”

Lily ushered James to the door. He turned around in the threshold. “Make sure you turn the dead bolt. I’m going to run to the hospital and check on Mrs. Benson, then I’m coming back to the main house. I’ll be staying there tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, closing the door. She turned the dead bolt; the thud of it hitting home reassured her.

“Must be nice to have money.”

Lily jumped and spun around. Kara was standing right behind her. Lily pressed a hand over her racing heart. “I didn’t know you were right there. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Kara held out her arms and spun around slowly, laughing. “This place is only so big. How far away can I be?” She stopped and leaned toward Lily, locking gazes. “A little jumpy, maybe?”

Lily brushed past her and sat on the couch. Leaning back, she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “This is really a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my friend, it is.” Kara sat down next to her.

Lily sat up ramrod straight. “How do you always stay composed, rational?”

“You don’t have to deal with Mrs. Elinor O’Reilly day in and day out.” Lifting both hands out in front of her, she pinched her fingers together. “Ohmmmm...”

“I’m not going to touch that one. I have nothing but gratitude for the O’Reillys. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them.”

“Me, neither.” Kara giggled. “But it isn’t exactly the place of my dreams. But I suppose I shouldn’t complain. If Mrs. and Dr. O’Reilly take off on the cruise around the world, I may be out of a job.”

“We both can fly the coop.” Lily started to giggle and couldn’t stop until tears rolled down her cheeks. “I might not have a choice if Talia’s boyfriend stole my research.” Saying the words out loud made her feel queasy.

Kara’s jaw dropped. “Did he really do that?”

“That’s what Talia said.” The woozy feeling made her cheeks grow warm. “Talia brought him into the lab. He could have made copies of the files. No one would be the wiser. Talia was mad at me because she thought I didn’t provide a strong letter of recommendation for the Ph.D. program.”

“Maybe she’s lying.” Something dark flickered in Kara’s eyes. She reached over and tapped her friend’s knee. “After everything else, maybe she’s a liar. Where’s that faith you’re always talking about?” The smile slid from Kara’s face.

Lily studied her friend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I did something really awful.”

Lily’s mouth grew dry.

“It’s about the letter of recommendation for Talia to the university.”

Lily nodded, a lump forming in her throat.

“I threw it out.” Kara crossed her arms, then let them drop. “She deserved it.” She hiked her chin, but Lily could tell her conviction was slipping. “Talia’s such a braggart. I thought she’d be insufferable if we all had to start calling her ‘doctor.’ And when I saw you drop the letter off in the mail room...”

Lily covered her mouth. “I can’t believe you did that. You had no right.”

Kara hung her head in her hands. “I know. Now look at the mess I created.”

FOURTEEN

T
he next morning, James jogged up the stairs to Lily’s second-floor apartment. He pounded on the door, the thumping competing with the pounding in his chest. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was nine-fifteen in the morning. Last time he’d heard from her was shortly after he’d left last night, when Lily had called to tell him what Kara had done with Talia’s letter of recommendation. He was still shaking his head over that one.

But where was Lily now? She hadn’t answered her cell phone when he’d tried to call her from the main house. And Kara didn’t answer her cell phone, either. Lifting his hand, he pounded again. “Come on, Lily. Answer.”

He turned his back to the door and scanned the property. The sun had burned off the early-morning fog. The flowers Charlie so diligently tended lined the fence of the pool in a neat row of purples and pinks, his grandmother’s favorite colors. Nothing looked out of place. He slid a finger across the screen of his cell phone and dialed her number. Again.

“Where are you?” he muttered to himself while the phone rang. A wave of apprehension coursed through him. More than once, people he loved had been taken away from him.

Without any warning.

Dread and a heavy feeling of loss constricted his chest. He forced air into his lungs. He was a grown man. He shouldn’t react this way. He had taken every precaution to keep Lily safe. She was safe.

Dear Lord, please let her be safe.
The prayer seemed to come as naturally as when he’d prayed as a child with his mother. The realization made him pause for the briefest of moments. He lifted his hand again and was about to knock when he heard a rustling inside.

The door handle rattled and he sucked in a breath. The door opened. Lily’s tired eyes looked up at him. “What’s wrong?” She pressed the heel of her hand into one eye. Pillow marks lined her cheek.

“You’re home.” He cupped her shoulders as if to reassure himself she was really safe and sound, standing in front of him.

“I overslept.” Stepping back into the room, away from his grasp, she touched her hair self-consciously. One side was pushed up into a big lump. She had on an oversize T-shirt and cotton pajama bottoms. He had to smile. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

He tipped his head. “May I come in?”

Lily opened the door wider. “Of course.” She held out her hand. “Don’t mind how I’m dressed.”

James brushed past her into the small apartment. “I got worried when I couldn’t get ahold of you or Kara.”

Lily sat on the stool, obviously trying to shake the sleep. “I slept like the dead.” She blinked rapidly. “I can’t think straight.” She pushed to a standing position, glanced toward the couch then flopped back down on the stool like a marionette whose strings had suddenly been plucked.

“Kara’s gone.” A pillow and a folded blanket were stacked on the arm of the couch. “Hmm...” She scratched her head. Leaning across the center island, she dragged her purse toward her. She undid the flap and dug around inside until she produced her cell phone. She glanced at the button on the edge of the phone. “Sorry. I had it on vibrate, but I don’t think I would have heard it anyway.” She scrolled through the missed calls. “Kara tried to reach me, too. I didn’t hear her leave this morning.” She narrowed her gaze. “I think she’s feeling pretty bad about what she did.”

“She should. Maybe that’s why she didn’t answer my call.”

Lily jerked back her head. “Has something happened?”

James nodded, wishing he could spare her more bad news.

* * *

Lily’s blood ran cold. James had done a good job of schooling his expression, probably to spare her, but she was tired. Tired of needing protection. Tired of hiding away in this carriage house. And tired of having this Frank Smith guy ruin her life.

“Tell me.” Her intuition kicked in and sent tingles of panic slithering across her fingertips. “Something happened to Talia.” Time seemed to stretch in front of her.
Please let Talia be okay.

James closed his eyes briefly. “I’m afraid so.”

Her spine went limp. She held up her hand to stop him from saying any more. She slid off the stool and moved to the couch. She pressed her hands together and tucked them between her knees. James sat on the coffee table in front of her. She met his gaze, mentally bracing herself. “Okay. Tell me.”

“Talia’s mother found her unresponsive in bed early this morning.”

The details of the room seemed magnified in Lily’s adrenaline-soaked state. She swore she could see every petal in detail in the bouquet on the center of the coffee table. “Is Talia...?” The word
dead
got stuck in her throat.

“She’s alive. She’s in ICU. That’s all I know. The chief of police called me. He couldn’t tell me any more.”

“Oh, no....” Lily’s gaze darted around the room, as if the answer might be in the well-appointed accessories in the apartment. “Where’s Mrs. York?”

“At home. She refuses to leave the house.”

Lily pushed off the couch and ran a hand through her mussed hair. “We need to see how she is.” She covered her mouth and tried to tamp down her emotions. “I can’t imagine how she’s doing. She’s probably all alone.”

“I’ll take you.”

She froze and ran a hand down her pajama bottoms. “Give me ten minutes.”

* * *

The Yorks’ house—in its state of disrepair—seemed even more ominous this morning, despite the sun poking through the heavy tree branches. Lily scanned the front of the house. The front door was closed and the blinds were drawn. Mrs. York was probably in a state of shock and in no mood for visitors. But Lily wouldn’t take no for an answer. No one should be alone at a time like this. As it was, the hospital told them that no one besides family would be able to visit Talia in the ICU. And due to privacy laws, they couldn’t get any updated information on Talia.

“Let’s go,” James said, obviously sensing her hesitation.

Lily had seen the desperation in Talia’s eyes. The poor girl had tried to take her own life. In her home. Her childhood bedroom. Had she hoped her mother would find her before it was too late? Had it been a cry for help that almost went unnoticed? Hadn’t the police checked her home last night after Talia had shown up at the carriage house?

Why didn’t you stop her?
The voice in her head mocked.
She came to you. You should have stopped her.

Lily drew in a deep breath.

James grabbed a plastic bag from the trunk and handed one to Lily. They had picked up a few fresh food items from the grocery store for Mrs. York. He slammed the back hatch and placed his hand on Lily’s back, leading her up the path. She stumbled over a piece of broken concrete and quickly steadied herself. The wood steps to the porch creaked under their weight. Lily slipped her free hand into her pants pocket and held her breath. James knocked on the door and slanted her a glance, offering her a weak smile. Muffled sounds from the television could be heard through the closed door.

They waited a few minutes. No answer.

“Let me try.” Lily pulled open the screen door and turned the handle on the inside door, its green paint chipping. It was unlocked. She pushed it open. The stale smell of accumulated junk assaulted her nose. Through the partially opened door, she called, “Mrs. York, it’s Lily McAllister and James O’Reilly. We wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

The thump-drag of Mrs. York’s walker sounded down the hallway. The older woman stopped halfway to the door and ran a shaky hand under her nose. “Did you hear my Talia’s in the hospital?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ve been praying for her.” Lily leaned on the doorframe. James rested his hand on her back. “That’s why we stopped by. We wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Mrs. York’s nose flared and she shook her head. “I did my best, but she was always a weak flower. Just like her father.”

James’s shoulder held the screen door open. “May we come in?”

Mrs. York gave a quick nod and turned around, thumping her way back to the family room with her walker.

James nudged Lily forward. “We brought some food. May I put the things in your kitchen?”

Mrs. York lifted a shaky hand in the general direction of the kitchen. “I told you I got plenty of food.” Her tone held an air of indignation.

Despite her protests, Lily put the refrigerated items away and James stacked the other things on the counter. When they returned to the living room, they found Mrs. York in her oversize chair with threadbare arms. Lily removed some magazines from a nearby chair, her fingers brushing across something sticky. Discreetly wiping her hand on her pant leg, she lowered herself onto the chair, the springs jabbing the backs of her legs.

Leaning forward, Lily rested her elbows on her thighs. “I know you don’t need food, but there are a few things in the refrigerator and on the counter.”

Mrs. York scrunched her nose as if Lily had told her she had smeared a ripe banana across her cabinets.

“Please, tell us, what can we do for you?” Lily knew drawing the older woman’s hands into her own wouldn’t be well received.

Mrs. York looked up, her hardened eyes suddenly turned soft, watery, catching Lily off guard. “Bring my Talia back.”

Lily pressed a fisted hand to her mouth, holding back the crushing emotion of a teenage girl who had lost her mother. James brushed his fingers across Lily’s shoulder. She looked up and fixed her gaze on him. The compassion in his eyes touched her soul. She was the first to look away.

Lily snapped her attention back to Mrs. York. “Would you like us to take you to the hospital?”

Mrs. York’s eyes flared wide. “Oh, no, I don’t want to go to the hospital.... My mother went in because she wasn’t feeling good and got an infection something fierce. She died in the hospital.” She reached across, grabbed a tissue and blew loudly into it. “I’m afraid my Talia’s never coming home, either.”

“Oh, don’t say that. We have to have faith.” Guilt and compassion weighed heavily on Lily.
Please, Lord, let Talia be okay.
Had Lily done everything in her power to help Talia prior to this point? Had she been too wrapped up in her own life? Her own problems?

“James and I would be happy to go with you to the hospital.” Lily tried again. “It might make you feel better to see Talia.”

Mrs. York’s thin eyebrows twitched. All the years of being told one thing and experiencing another were etched into the lines around her flat mouth. “I already told you. I ain’t going to no hospital.”

The trill of James’s cell phone broke the tension-filled pause. He slipped it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. “This is important.” He walked away, out of earshot.

Lily waited as long as her anxiety would allow, then met him in the front hall, careful not to trip on the stacks of newspapers cluttering the hallway. “What is it? Is it...?” She lowered her voice so Mrs. York wouldn’t hear. “Is it Talia?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Benson.” He cupped Lily’s elbow. “I have to go to the hospital. I can drop you off home first.”

Unease twisted Lily’s insides. “No, I can’t leave Mrs. York. Not yet.” She covered his hand with hers. “Go on. I can call Kara or someone for a ride in a little while. Go. Mrs. Benson needs you.” The elderly woman’s lonely smile and salt-and-pepper hair floated to mind.

James seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I suppose no one knows you’re here. That’s good. Do me a favor. Lock the doors and don’t go outside until your ride is here.” He pinned her with a gaze. “And if you can’t catch a ride, call me. Okay? We still don’t know where this Frank guy is.”

“Go,” she said. She got up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his cheek. His scent, a mixture of soap and aftershave, reached her nose. A pleasant substitute for the stale air swirling inside the Yorks’ cluttered house. “Go on. I’ll be fine.”

* * *

On the drive to the hospital, James caught himself reciting a prayer his mother had taught him as a child. He stopped, and then continued, the words bringing him comfort. Mrs. Benson needed his prayers. So did Talia.

And Lily.

It unnerved him to leave Lily alone at the Yorks’ house. To provide a measure of peace, he called the police chief and asked him if he could have someone patrol the Yorks’ street. Keep an eye on things. His friend was more than willing to oblige.

James zipped into the parking spot, jumped out of the car and jogged toward the entrance. The doors whirred open on the small country hospital, belching out cool air. Big-city folks might complain about the quaint, rural facility, but it provided a service people in poor countries could never dream of. And James’s clinic bridged the gap for those who lacked insurance.

“Excuse me, sir. May I help you?”

James blinked, adjusting his eyes after coming in from the bright sunshine. A young woman sat at the main desk, watching him expectantly.

“Yes. I’m Dr. James O’Reilly. I need a pass to see Mrs. Benson. I believe she’s on the second floor, south wing.”

The woman pressed a few keys on the keyboard. She studied the computer screen for a moment before glancing at him, her one eye twitching. She seemed to shake herself, before peeling off a purple visitor’s pass from the roll and handing it to him. “Please stop by the nurses’ station on two south before going to Mrs. Benson’s room.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He didn’t want to read more into her expression than he feared.

“Thank you.” He slapped the sticker onto his shirt. He bypassed the elevator and entered the stairwell, the solid fire door slamming behind him. He took the stairs two at a time.

During the phone call, the nurse had said he needed to come in right away, but she hadn’t been able to say any more. When the same nurse saw him jogging down the hall, she slowly stood up. The somber expression on her face made his stomach seize. Slowing his pace, he stared at her, praying for a smile. A nod of reassurance. Anything. Something.

Nothing.

“I’m sorry, Dr. O’Reilly. Mrs. Benson died fifteen minutes ago. I had hoped she’d hang on long enough for you to get here. I know how much she meant to you.”

James plastered on a polite smile and pointed toward the room where Mrs. Benson had chatted with him last night. When she had told him of her wishes. Her hopes for her granddaughter’s future. “Is she still...?”