Daniel's Gift (15 page)

"She's hurting, Alan. And she's angry. Maybe she had to take some of that anger out on you or she'd explode."

"I don't know," Alan said slowly. "Things haven't been good the last couple of weeks. I don't know what this accident will do to us."

"Maybe it will make your relationship stronger."

"Maybe it will break us up."

"Look on the bright side."

"Is there one?"

Sue shrugged apologetically. "Guess not."

Alan tossed his pen down on the desk. "Oh, hell, I can't do anything to help Danny right now, or Jenny for that matter, but I can find whoever did this and make them pay." He stood up. "First stop, the Acapulco Lounge."

Matt hung up his phone for the third time that day and stared at the family picture on the wall. It had been taken years ago when his mother was alive.

They were sitting in the family living room in front of the Christmas tree.

His mom and dad were on a piano bench. The kids were standing behind them. Everyone was smiling, except his father, who never found much in life to smile about.

Matt's gaze turned toward his mother. Katherine St. Claire -- she reminded him of Jenny. The same impulsive smile, the same wild brown hair. Katherine had been the soft touch in the family, the one who kissed "owies" and tried to keep his father off his back.

When Katherine died, the family lost the glue that had held them together. Merrilee, who was twenty-two at the time, became an obsessive control freak, taking over Jenny and Matt as if they were preschoolers instead of teenagers.

He hadn't paid her much attention at the time. He had been eighteen and playing his first year at Stanford on a football scholarship. He'd been cocky, arrogant, full of himself. Without his mother to remind him that humbleness was a virtue, he had become a complete asshole.

Jenny had been fifteen, a sophomore in high school, and the most vulnerable of all of them. He looked at her face in the photo and smiled with genuine tenderness. Jen-Jen looked like a young filly, skinny legs, long arms, and hair blowing loose around her face. In the photo she was only a year or two older than Danny was now, and the similarity between them was striking and heartbreaking.

Danny shared the same joy of life as his mother, the same relentless optimism, which is probably why he had been so determined to find his father, confident there could be a happy ending.

God! Matt closed his eyes in despair. Bile rose in his throat. He was suddenly terribly afraid of the future, of losing the one person in the family who still looked up to him. Danny, his best buddy, his pal.

Matt wanted to go to the hospital. Merrilee had called him every hour on the hour all day long. He hadn't answered the phone, because he didn't know what to say, how to explain. And he couldn't face her complaints or her insults. He didn't have the strength or the right answers.

First, he had to find his car -- his goddamned car. Where the hell was it? He had tried Brenda, but all he got was her machine. Kenny was fishing and wouldn't be back till late, and Jody said she had gone straight home after the Acapulco Lounge.

Matt picked up the phone again and dialed the bar. Maybe Barry could reassure him with the news that his car was still safely parked in the lot.

A busy tone buzzed in his ear.

Damn.

Matt didn't want to wait. Not one more second. The Acapulco Lounge was only a mile or so away. He'd take his bike, find his car, throw the bike in the back and go to the hospital with a clean conscience.

Merrilee looked down at her watch as Richard stepped off the hospital elevator. He had been gone all day. No calls. Nothing. Just like always. Why was she surprised? He had been that way for months.

"Merrilee." Richard leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. She turned her head away, giving him her profile.

"It's almost six," she said.

"We had a long lunch." Richard sat down on the couch next to her and tugged at his tie. He looked tired, older than his forty-three years. "Any change?"

Merrilee shrugged. "Danny moved a few fingers. Jenny was practically delirious with joy, but the doctor said it was just a reflex. He's in a coma."

"I can't believe this is happening."

"Jenny won't leave his bedside. Matt hasn't shown up, and my father refuses to come down here." Her voice caught and for the first time in a long time, her iron control slipped away. "I feel so alone. I don't know what to do -- what to say. Every word that comes out of my mouth seems to be wrong."

Richard put an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. He hadn't held her so close in ages. Merrilee closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him. But the flowery smell disturbed her -- another woman's perfume.

She pushed the thought out of her mind. He had been with clients; one had probably been a woman.

"It's okay, Merrilee," Richard said. "You're trying to help. That's all you can do."

At least, he had admitted she was trying. God, she didn't think anyone had noticed. Her eyes filled with tears. She never cried, never. Blinking them away, she lifted her head. "Can I borrow your handkerchief?"

Without waiting for him to answer, she reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the square piece of white linen. Something fell out along with it, something gold and round with a diamond in the center.

His wedding ring, the ring she had slipped onto his finger seventeen years ago.

It landed on the carpet. Richard reached for it at the same time she did. Her hand closed around it first. She opened her palm in front of his disturbed gaze.

"Why aren't you wearing your ring?" she asked.

"I -- I've gained a few pounds. It was getting tight."

"Liar." She said the word out loud, shocking herself as much as him.

"What?"

"You've lost weight if anything."

"What are you accusing me of?" Richard asked. He didn't look scared or embarrassed or caught red-handed. It was almost as if he wanted her to say it out loud, wanted to end the farce between them.

Merrilee couldn't say the words. She couldn't risk losing everything.

"Nothing. I'm not accusing you of anything. Maybe we should have this enlarged." Merrilee handed him back the ring. "I want you to be able to wear it for the rest of your life. You want that, too, don't you?"

"Of course," Richard muttered as he slid the ring back on his finger without any trouble at all.

The parking lot of the Acapulco Lounge was empty. The Saturday night crowd had not yet arrived. Matt parked his ten-speed bike along the side wall. He scanned the parking lot for his car. It wasn't there.

He walked toward the front door, then hesitated. A police car was parked diagonally across two spaces. It had to be a coincidence, probably some drunk stirring up trouble. Nothing more. He certainly didn't have anything to worry about.

Still, Matt had been wary of cops for the past two years. He'd done his share of speeding and driving under the influence. He hadn't been caught yet, but he had come close. When he was sober, he knew he was flirting with disaster, but danger had always been a part of his life.

Football was danger -- violence, thrills, excitement. He missed the game as deeply as if someone had cut off his right arm, his golden arm. He had been so damn good. Better than the shit that was playing in the NFL now.

It wasn't fair that five years ago Bernie Steinman, a defensive lineman, had ruined everything with one tackle. Matt's leg had broken in three places. He could still hear the pops, one-two-three.

The pain came back into his leg, and it was so sharp, he stopped. It wasn't really there, of course. His leg had long since healed. But his heart was still broken, and his mind still blurred by the sudden ending of everything he had ever wanted.

He was nothing without football. Except when he drank. Then he felt better. He could forget the pain for a while, pretend he was at a party, pretend the babes were still hot for him. There were a few, of course, wanting to get a vicarious thrill by laying a famous ex-quarterback. Even those had started to fade away, looking for the next hot jock.

The only one who really gave a damn about him was Jen-Jen. Which reminded him of why he was standing in the parking lot, too afraid to go inside.

Deep down, he didn't believe that he could have driven a car into his nephew and fled. Still, he couldn't remember one thing about the night, and his car was nowhere to be found.

Squaring his shoulders, Matt pushed open the door and walked into the lounge.

There were two cops standing at the bar, talking to Joseph, one of the waiters. The first, a woman he didn't recognize. The second was Alan Brady, his sister's boyfriend. Shit.

Matt wanted to turn and run, get the hell out of the bar, but Alan saw him, and he couldn't move.

"Matt," Alan said in surprise, "where the hell have you been? I've left a dozen messages for you."

"I know. I just got them."

"Have you been to the hospital? Have you seen Jenny?"

Matt knew he would look like an ass if he admitted that he hadn't been anywhere except this low-dive bar. But he couldn't think of another thing to say. Not even the lies came easily these days.

"Not yet," he mumbled.

Alan narrowed his gaze. "Why not?"

His voice was deceptively quiet, but Matt stiffened. He and Alan had never gotten to be friends, because Alan thought he was a worthless piece of shit, and Matt didn't feel like hanging out with one of the long arms of the law. "I'm not good at hospitals. I'd just bring her down."

"She couldn't get any lower. She needs you, Matt. Merrilee is driving her crazy."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Can I get you a drink?" Joseph asked.

"A beer, thanks."

"A beer?" Alan questioned. "You're going to sit in here and get drunk while your nephew is in the hospital?"

"Alan, careful," the female cop admonished.

Alan glared at Matt. "You're a bastard."

Matt shrugged, hiding the pain that Alan's words created. He was a bastard. Only he wasn't sure how much of a bastard he was. If he had driven his car into Danny, how could he ever live with himself?

"How can you be such an asshole?" Alan persisted as he took a step forward.

Alan was bigger than he was, and Matt instinctively backed up, but Alan's hand came around his arm in a steel grip. "I want you to go outside, get in your car, and go to the hospital now."

"I can't."

"You can and you will." Alan strong-armed him, pulling him forcefully across the room and out into the parking lot. "Where's your car?" he demanded.

"I rode my bike," Matt said, avoiding Alan's gaze. Shit, he was in trouble now.

"Your bike? What happened to your car?"

"Nothing. I felt like some exercise."

"Really. Really?" Alan pushed Matt up against the wall of the building.

"Hey, watch it, you're hurting me."

"Not as much as I'd like to. Now, let me ask you another question. Were you drinking in this bar last night?"

"What's it to you?"

"The waiter said there was a pretty good crowd here when he arrived around eight."

"So?"

"Where the hell is your car, Matt? You better tell me right now that it doesn't have a broken headlight or I'm going to beat the living crap out of you."

Chapter Eleven

Jenny leaned her head back against the chair and shut out the sight of Danny's hospital room.

She had to rest, if only for a moment. The weariness was too much.

As she let herself drift into sleep, the dream came again.

She and Luke in her bright red Volkswagen convertible driving along the Pacific Coast Highway. The scenery was spectacular -- dark jagged cliffs that dropped a few feet off the side of the road into the swirling, white-topped waves of the Pacific Ocean. The radio was playing Elton John's "Crocodile Rock," and she was singing off-key with the chorus.

Luke had his hand along the back of her seat. His fingers rubbed against her shoulder, bare in the warm, midday sun. She felt alive, young, and in love, strong enough to conquer the world. Her foot came down heavy on the gas pedal. The car sped forward. Her brown hair fell loose from a pony tail ribbon that flew into the wind. She laughed. So did Luke.

He looked at her and smiled, white teeth against a tanned face. Luke lifted his sunglasses, and the blue of his eyes took her breath away. Her hand clenched on the wheel and the car swung to the right. Luke grabbed the side of the door and she straightened the car in apology.

"Slow down," he said. "You're going too fast."

"If we go fast enough, we might be able to fly." She laughed at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I'm not that crazy." Jenny slowed the car down and pulled off to the side at a vista point. She got out of the car and walked over to the railing so she could look at the sea.