In This Life (9 page)

Jim studied each item for a few minutes and then studied me. “And?”

“The card isn’t signed.”

“And?”

I remembered the last time Jim and I had a conversation. That one had been short and interrogatory, too.

“And the people who knew I was in the hospital last night didn’t send me these flowers,” I said. “Someone else did.”

“And that makes this delivery a threat?”

“It’s not just the delivery,” I told Jim. “It’s the fact that there’s no name on the card and my hair is in the bouquet.”

“Did you smell the bouquet after it was delivered?”

“Yes.”

“So maybe your hair got stuck there all on its own.”

Jim looked at Llewellyn. Though neither showed any emotion during their silent exchange, I knew what Jim was thinking and my heart sank. When David’s eyes sought out mine, I understood the corner I’d trapped myself in. I could have told Jim that something similar had happened once already, but then I’d have to tell him everything else. And then I’d have to explain that David was using PROs resources to examine my hair and our phone records and the envelope, and if I did that then the precinct would notify PROs and David’s job would be at risk.

Jim turned back to me. “What are you not telling me, Lottie?”

I kept my gaze steady with his. “Nothing. You know everything.”

Jim fed me his silence and I recognized the prompt for what it was — an enticement to get me to fill it. It was a powerful motivator and one I used often with clients.

“I just feel like someone’s after me and I don’t like the feeling,” I admitted, and it was the first completely truthful thing I’d said since they arrived. Frustrated, I got up, went to the slider and looked outside once more, searching for anything that would take my mind off my screw-up. The rose bushes, I noticed, needed pruning.

David’s voice cut in. “I’m sorry, Jim. Lottie’s been having a difficult time with one of her clients and I think she’s feeling vulnerable lately because of it. I suspect that’s one of the reasons why Lori called you here.”

The explanation seemed to pacify Jim. He stood up and motioned to Llewellyn. “The best thing I can do is investigate the delivery and try to get a name. Other than that,” he said, “there’s not much else I can do for you.”

I told McKarren that I was grateful for their time and Lori gave her uncle a hug. David walked both officers to the front door where the conversation continued a little longer. Lori dropped a kiss on my cheek and offered an “I’m sorry, sweetie” before heading back into the kitchen. I heard the television click on and a baseball game tune in, and through the slider’s reflection I watched Nat sit on the sofa and prop his feet on the coffee table next to the flowers. Again, their unique beauty and color drew me in, as I knew I had been drawn to them before.

I felt skilled hands powder me with gold dust and slip a new gold and linen sheath over my body. The hands placed a collar made of gold tubes laced with amethyst and carnelian around my neck, and a braided wig threaded with gold on my head.

“Does it meet with your pleasure?” my servant asked, handing me a mirror.

I did not need the mirror to know that it did, and I nodded my approval.

With one final adjustment to my wig, she urged me to my feet, out into the royal courtyard and to the Great Hall. Trumpets blared, heralding my arrival and my heart soared as I entered the celebration. Garlands made of lilies and lotus hung from the ceilings and wrapped around each sculpted column. Flower petals of blue and green and yellow adorned each table as well as the reed mats beside them. Servant girls tied floral collars of chamomile and green leaf on guests, and empty wine jugs spilled over with blue and white lotus. Women poured wine spiced with cinnamon into cups and others served trays filled with dried fish, figs and dates, thick loaves of bread, and seasoned beef. People ate and drank, women danced and shook sistrums, and music played long into a night that promised future success and eternal happiness.

After a time, in need of fresh air, I excused myself from my table. Although the night was warm it was not uncomfortable and, for once, a cooling breeze blew through. At the edge of the granite balcony, I closed my eyes and relaxed under the gentle wind, allowing the effects of the wine to quiet my senses. I sensed someone move in from behind.

“It is a magnificent night, is it not?”

I did not need to look to know who had joined me. His voice warmed my blood as much as the wine did.

“It is,” I said to him.

He nudged my arm and when I opened my eyes he held up two cups of wine, offering me one.

I hesitated. My heart belonged to another man and yet here we stood, alone beneath a dark, moonlit night.

“It is from my vineyard,” he said in an attempt to sway my decision.

He offered the cup again and moved in beside me. The wine looked as rich and red as the darkest pomegranate, with three blue lotus petals floating on top. I took the cup but did not drink.

Much to his credit, he did not try to sway me again. “What a remarkable view,” he said, taking a sip and then one more. “Everything seems to glow with moonlight. Even the river glitters beneath the stars, as if it is filled with shining jewels.”

I nodded but it seemed all I could do. I was having a hard time focusing on the view, the wine, even the night itself. His voice stole every thought from my head and had command over every reaction in my body. But he was not mine. And I could not stay with him here. Alone.

I moved away, needing space. This, whatever this was, felt dangerous and wrong.

He glanced my way, the trace of a grin playing on his lips, the darkness in his eyes drawing me into a place I had never been before. A place that harbored secrets and promised danger.

A place I had to avoid.

I felt a kiss on my cheek and heard a woman’s voice once more. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

The den slipped back into view, and the scent of cinnamon wine and fragrant flowers was replaced with robust marinara and spicy oregano. The sounds of song and dance turned into Nat’s cheers for the baseball game.

And the dark, beckoning eyes that had aroused and tantalized faded away.

Lori was standing beside me. “Maybe I’ll bring dinner again, too. Might as well take advantage while my mother handles the boys for the weekend.”

Nat remoted off the television and stood. “And I’ll check into the florists because I know the cops will get squat on this.”

David returned to the den, alone. “Great idea.”

Nat and Lori said their goodbyes and promised to swing by tomorrow, and David finished cleaning up. I stayed by the slider, watching the sun begin to dip in a purpling sky. Water turned on and turned off, plates rattled and the refrigerator pulled open and sealed shut.

A short while later David wrapped his arms around me, his heart beating in time with mine. “You okay?” he asked, dropping a kiss on top of my head.

“Yeah.” The evening’s first few stars sparkled in the purpling sky. “You were right about me not being ready to talk to the police. I could have handled that better.”

I stared into David’s eyes. They weren’t the dark, secretive eyes I had remembered moments before.

“You look like you need rest,” he said. “Maybe you should go upstairs to bed.”

I hesitated, wanting to tell him about what I’d seen but I wasn’t sure how to put into words what I didn’t understand myself. I nodded, kissed him and headed for the foyer and the stairs.

Halfway to the second floor, I sensed David following me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

We reached the landing and turned down the hall. “I’m going to rest with you.”

I stopped him with a hand to his chest, just outside the double doors to our bedroom. “So we’re clear here, my definition of rest is not doing anything. Just lying in bed. Maybe even falling asleep.”

“No problem,” David said, maneuvering me past the threshold. “You can do all those things. As long as you promise to fall asleep afterward and not during.”

“And what if I say no?”

David stopped. “Are you?”

I rolled my eyes, sighed out loud and grabbed his hand, leading him further inside. “I’m such a cheap date.”

“I wouldn’t quite put it in those words,” David said, closing the doors behind us. “But it’s one of the things I love most about you.”

By the time Monday arrived, I was ready to go back to work.

As much as I loved being home with David, I needed to return to some kind of normal life — one that involved getting out of the house and behaving like any other person who had bills to pay and food to put on the table. But the term
normal
, at least right now, came with a big caveat. My handbag, phone, and Jeep had been outfitted with a tracking device, courtesy of Nat. My home security system had been beefed up, courtesy of the central monitoring station. And all questionable external contact, snail mail and phone calls and e-mail included, was going to get the once-over by David. As I fastened my dress and slipped on a pair of sandals, I wondered how long it would take before a watch party would be posted outside my bathroom door, too.

Under other circumstances, the visual would have been funny. I knew David and Nat were doing what they thought was necessary but the idea of having my every move under scrutiny grated on me. I didn’t do well with supervision of any type.

I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, trying to convince myself to get over it because this was important, and for good reason. I hadn’t heard back from Jim McKarren yet, but Nat researched flower deliveries into the area and didn’t find any that were addressed to my home or me. On top of that, he’d discovered that the flowers — blue lotus, he’d called them — carried a mild psychoactive property that could elicit tranquility in the user, and even heightened mental states or sexual performance when blended as a tea or mixed with wine. Once David heard that, the flowers ended up in the garbage.

While the information made David suspicious, it intrigued me, though in a tentative way. In David’s mind, everything that had happened since Friday morning was more than just coincidence. And I agreed but with one major difference. I now knew that my episodes were no longer something clinical but something very personal instead. But the bigger question was why everything I kept seeing and feeling seemed to stem from memories that I’d never experienced before in my life.

That’s when I made a firm decision to speak to Paul once I got to the office. I scanned my cell phone and discovered that I had a fully booked day including an initial consultation with Galen at nine-thirty. I had thirty minutes blocked out with him, and hoped it would be enough to give David the preliminary evaluation he wanted. Somewhere in between I’d have to figure out how to fit Paul in. And I needed to connect with Mrs. Reynolds, too. I considered phoning her from the office on my lunch hour but realized that caller ID could be an issue if she was truly avoiding me. That also meant my cell phone wasn’t an option either, and for the very same reason.

I spied David’s cell on his nightstand. His phone was unlisted and, with a ten-minute cushion left before I needed to leave for work, I figured I had nothing to lose. I searched through my contacts on my own cell, found Mrs. Reynolds’s number and dialed. She picked up just before I thought I’d hit voicemail.

“Hi, Mrs. Reynolds. This is Doctor Morgan from Amrose.”

“I want you to leave me alone — ”

“Please don’t hang up. I only want to talk.”

I kept my voice neutral with the hope that she’d stay on the line, at least for a short while, and knew I’d succeeded when silence greeted me on the other end.

“I want to apologize for what happened the other day at my office,” I said. “I feel very badly about the way our conversation ended.”

“My son is gone, Doctor Morgan. What is there for us to talk about now?”

“Gone?” I asked, catching her slip-up. “Or dead?”

Mrs. Reynolds hung up.

I stared at David’s cell, not surprised by her reaction. We both knew that Logan was alive but playing her game seemed the only way for me to get her attention. Still, I felt disappointed. Talking with her was no guarantee of honesty but even her lies would give me clues to work with. Unfortunately, she wasn’t giving me much of that, either.

I decided to try her again tomorrow
.

I grabbed my handbag, keys, and phone, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. David sat at the table in the dining nook near the other sliding door, tablet in his left hand, coffee mug in the right, dressed in a gray T-shirt and black basketball shorts. He looked up when he heard me walk in and sent me a heart-stopping smile.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, using his coffee mug to point out the bagel on the plate before him.

I shook my head. “I’m good.”

He considered me for a moment, put down his mug and his tablet, and came over. When he pulled me in close, I smelled fresh soap and shampoo mixed with my favorite, musky cologne. I snuggled into him, inhaling as much of him as I could.

“I’m going for a long run later and then heading to the gym,” he said.

In case something happens and you need to reach me
was left unspoken.

“Enjoy it,” I said.

David escorted me to the garage and gave me a kiss after I settled into my Jeep, and watched as I pulled out of the driveway. I reached Amrose in twenty minutes, courtesy of thin traffic and plenty of green lights, and found Paul in his office next to mine.

“Have a few minutes?” I asked, poking my head inside his open door.

He peered at me over his computer and waved me in. “For you, any time.”

“I need some help,” I said, taking the chair opposite his desk. “Guidance, actually.”

“I’m all ears.” He shoved his laptop aside, giving me full view of tanned arms that were complemented by an even darker tan golf shirt. The color, I noticed, brought out the light brown in his eyes and hair and accented the slivers of gray that were starting to appear on his temples. They were the only hint that Paul had already moved past forty.