Forbidden Fruit (35 page)

But she would win, for herself and for Glory. She would not be bested, not now, not after having spent her life protecting and guiding her daughter.

Hope thought of Santos; hatred for him burned inside her. He would pay for this. Someday, she would find a way to make him pay.

T
he days moved one into the other. With each day, Lily grew stronger, and it seemed to Santos that more than anything the doctors did, Glory was the reason for her improvement. She was always at Lily's side. No matter what time he visited the hospital, day or night, Glory was there, holding Lily's hand, talking softly, listening raptly or simply watching her grandmother sleep.

Most times, Santos simply stood back, watched and listened as Glory shared the details of her life with her grandmother, filling her in on the person Lily had not been allowed to know. And although he would never be able to completely trust Glory, her gentleness with Lily, her unselfish sharing of herself and her time, had subtly changed his opinion of her. Glory was not like her mother; she wasn't so cold or judgmental. She wasn't mean.

And sometimes, when he listened to her, his memory flooded with the girl he had known all those years ago. The girl he had thought he loved.

Those memories unsettled him, they robbed him of his cool-eyed perspective. When that happened, he had to remind himself that he didn't like Glory, that he wasn't intrigued by the woman she had grown into, and that they had nothing in common except Lily and their concern for her.

They had so little in common that during the past days he and Glory had exchanged few words. They asked things like “How is she?” and “Has the doctor been in?” or “Any news?” And even though they had received the grim results of Lily's angiocardiogram together—with this attack, Lily had lost twenty-five percent of her heart, and the chances of her having another attack on the heels of this first one was great—they hadn't talked about it afterward, they hadn't tried to comfort each other.

In fact, they never touched and rarely glanced the other's way. Except every so often, while she and Lily visited and almost as if by accident, Glory would look up at him and smile. And he would stand there feeling as if she had just reached inside him and turned all his vital organs inside out and backward.

Frowning at his own thoughts, Santos swung into the first parking spot he came to, slammed out of his car and headed for the hospital's front entrance, anxious to see Lily. A homicide had kept him away last night and all morning, and as the hours had passed, a vague uneasiness had settled over him. He feared something was wrong, that Lily had taken a turn for the worse. He had tried to call several times: twice Lily had been asleep, and once no one had answered.

Glory was with her, he told himself, picking his way around several slow-moving groups. She would have called if Lily's condition had changed. Sure she would have. He was experiencing a simple, if irrational, reaction to having almost lost Lily.

He sucked in a quick, deep breath, acknowledging gratitude for Glory's attentiveness. He might not like the woman she had become or have any illusions about their shared past, but he was grateful he'd had her to count on during this ordeal. Crime didn't come to a screeching halt simply because he had a family emergency. Knowing Glory was with Lily had allowed him to stay, at least minimally, on the job.

Santos reached the elevator. Jammed, it stopped on every floor between one and six, loading and unloading at each stop. Finally, he reached six, then made it out and to the end of the hall and Lily's room in a matter of moments.

Heart pounding, he pushed through the half-open door, then stopped in the doorway, stunned. He had expected to find the worst: that Lily had suffered another attack, that she was, once more, only a step away from death. Instead, Lily was sitting up in bed, laughing—a kind of breathless-schoolgirl laugh—as Glory recounted one of her high-school exploits.

Santos swallowed hard, almost light-headed with relief. He had never seen Lily quite this happy, he realized. He hadn't heard her laugh this way in a long time. He shook his head. She had just suffered a major heart attack, and she all but glowed.

Lily saw him then and smiled, a brilliant, breath-stealing smile, one filled with happiness and thanks. A wave of emotion rushed over him, and with it a lightness he had never experienced before. Long ago, he had vowed to take care of Lily, to protect her, in a way he hadn't been able to care for and protect his mother. He had made good on that vow, he realized. He had done this for her, given her this time with her granddaughter. He had made her happy.

“Victor,” Lily said, holding out her hand. “You've come just in time to hear about Glory's first piano recital.”

He crossed the room and took Lily's hand. “I can't wait.” Smiling, he bent and kissed her cheek. “You look wonderful.”

“I feel wonderful.” She curved her fingers around his. “The doctor says I'm almost ready to go home. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Already?” He shifted his gaze to Glory's, and she nodded. He returned his gaze to Lily. “That's great.”

“I'm a tough old bird.”

“That you are.” He laughed. “You never cut me any slack, that's for sure.”

“You bandit!” Lily laughed and slapped his hand. “I gave you so much slack, you nearly hung yourself on several occasions.” She turned to Glory and began to recount a story about how, when she discovered that Santos had been sneaking out at night to meet a girl, she had locked all the doors and windows, forcing him to have to ring the bell at 3:00 a.m. to get back in.

“He was so surprised,” Lily said, laughing. “I listened as he went from window to window, trying each one. When he was finally forced to go to the front door and ring, he was so chagrined.”

“I thought I was being so slick,” he said, laughing. “I had no idea she was onto me. I kept thinking I must have left a different window open.”

That story led to another and another. They all laughed, chiming in comments and cracking jokes. Before long, Lily could hardly keep her eyes open.

“If you need to take off,” Santos said to Glory, “I can hang around.”

She shook her head. “I'll stay for a while. Nothing's going on at the hotel, and my assistant manager will call me if something comes up.”

“I wish I could say the same for the N.O.P.D.” He made a sound of frustration. It had been nine weeks since the Snow White Killer had last struck, and Santos feared he had moved on. He wasn't the only one, even the media had begun to speculate the killer's spree was over, at least in New Orleans.

Santos flexed his fingers. He had to catch this guy, he had to stop him.

He had to know if he was the one who had killed his mother.

Glory watched him, a small frown forming between her eyebrows. “What's wrong? Has something happened?”

“Nothing. And that's the problem.”

She searched his expression, obviously confused. “If you need to go, I'll tell Lily—”

“No, I've got a little time.” He motioned toward the door. “I'm going to give Jackson a quick call and grab a cup of coffee from the machine. Want anything?”

“No. Thanks. I'll get something in a little while.”

“Call me if she wakes up while I'm gone.”

“I will.”

He stepped out into the hallway, smiling to himself, thinking of Lily's story and the way they had all laughed. For a moment, he had forgotten that he didn't trust or like Glory. For a moment, he had forgotten that she was the enemy.

“Santos!”

He looked up. Liz was coming down the hall toward him, carrying a flowering plant. He started toward her, meeting her halfway. “Liz.” He bent and kissed her lightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Lily.” She held up the plant. “Is this a bad time?”

“Of course not.” He forced a smile. He hadn't told her about Glory and Lily's relationship. He had anticipated her reaction and decided to leave well enough alone. He should have anticipated this, too. “Unfortunately, she's sleeping.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed. She glanced over his shoulder, at the door he had come out of, then back at him. “I haven't seen you much.”

He shoved his hands into his front trouser pockets. “It's been crazy, what with Lily and all my cases.” His excuses sounded lame, even to his own ears. For whatever reason, he hadn't felt a compelling need to see Liz since Lily's heart attack.

“It's okay. I understand. I remember what it was like when my dad was in the hospital.” She shifted. “I've missed you, that's all.”

He felt like a first-class creep—because, even though he wanted to, he didn't feel the same way about her, because he knew how much she longed for him to love her. He felt, somehow, responsible for her feelings. And he hated that.

“Once Lily's home, things should start returning to normal.”

“How is she?”

“Doing great. Surprisingly well, in fact. The doc says she's well enough to go home. Probably tomorrow.”

“No kidding? That's wonderful.”

“Unbelievable. I'd thought I'd lost her.”

“I'm happy for you.” Liz smiled, though to Santos the curving of her mouth looked a bit stiff. She handed him the plant. “I'll send some food over. Let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“If there's anything else I can do, you'll let me know?” He nodded, and she laced her fingers together. “I should get back. Business has picked up a bit.”

“Has it?” Santos smiled, genuinely pleased. “How's my traditional hamburger selling?”

She returned his smile. “At a rate that doesn't bear contemplation. I fear for the health of the American male.”

He tipped his head back and laughed. It felt good, he realized. Very good. He wondered when he had last laughed like that. “I'm glad you came, Liz. I'll tell Lily you were here.”

He bent and kissed her again, this time lingering a moment to savor.

“Santos, she's a…wake.”

He jerked his head up, then looked over his shoulder. Glory hung out of Lily's room, her face pink.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't know you were involv—I mean…I didn't know you weren't…alone.”

“It's okay,” he said stiffly, drawing away from Liz. “She's waking up?”

“Yes. I thought you'd want to know.” Her gaze moved past him to Liz, then her eyes widened in surprise. “Liz? Liz Sweeney, my God, is that you?”

He felt Liz stiffen. “Hello, Glory.”

Glory shook her head. “I can't believe it's really you. How have you been?”

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes, trembling, Santos saw, with anger. “No thanks to you.”

Glory paled. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it without speaking. In that instant, she looked totally, heartbreakingly vulnerable. Santos's heart went out to her, then he reminded himself that she deserved whatever she got. She had used and hurt Liz; he didn't blame Liz for her anger.

Glory cleared her throat. “I…I'll tell Lily…excuse me.”

She ducked back into the room, the door snapping shut behind her. As it did, Liz rounded on him. “How could you, Santos?” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really thought it was Lily's health that was keeping you away. But it was her, wasn't it?”

“This isn't what it seems, Liz. If you'll just let me explain.”

She tipped up her chin. “You told me you weren't interested in her.”

“I'm not. She's here to see Lily. Not me.”

Liz made a sound of disbelief. “Right. If my memory serves, she never even met Lily.”

“She hadn't, until a week ago.” He took a deep breath. “Lily is Glory's grandmother.”

For a full ten seconds, Liz simply stared at him. Then she shook her head. “You can't be serious.”

“But I am. Lily is Glory's maternal grandmother.” He lifted his shoulders. “She didn't know. Nobody did. Her mother kept it from her.”

“I don't understand. She didn't know?”

He shook his head and explained, telling Liz when and how he had come to learn of the connection between Lily and Glory, about Lily's longing for her daughter and granddaughter and why he had finally told Glory.

“I see.” Liz glanced at Lily's closed door, then back at Santos. “So, all this time, since Lily's heart attack, you've been with Glory?”

“With Glory? No. Sharing space with her is a better description. We've hardly spoken to each other.”

“But you didn't tell me.” She lowered her voice. “Why, Santos?”

“Because of this.” He made a sound of frustration. “Because I knew you would react…negatively.”

“And by negatively, you mean that I would be upset? That I would be jealous and suspicious, and probably overreact?”

He met her gaze evenly. “Yes.”

She hiked up her chin more, angry color staining her cheeks. “Can you blame me? Not telling the whole truth is the same as lying. And lying is just another way of saying you're guilty. But in your line of work, you should know that, Detective.”