Perfectly Matched (25 page)

Preston
’s jaw dropped. “What? Tell me that ambulance is not for me. I’m coming with you two.”

Dr. Paul took a step toward her, and she took a step back. Softly yet sternly, he said, “No, you’re not. There’s someone who needs you a lot more than Sean right now.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s that?”

Yeah, who?
I wondered. Because Sean being knocked out and carried away by a madman seemed pretty life or death to me.

Dr. Paul said, “The baby you’re carrying is clinging to life right now. If you don’t get to a hospital, he will die. No question. You have to go. Right now.”

As if her legs had given out,
Preston
slowly sank into the chair behind her, her face filled with shock. “Baby?”

“Baby?” I echoed, glancing at her. She was rail thin, not even a trace of a baby bump.

“You didn’t know?” he said to her.

She shook her head and tears sprang to her eyes. Her hands pressed against her stomach. “What’s wrong with him?”

Orlinda hadn’t been kidding when she predicted a huge upheaval in
Preston
’s life. Upheavals didn’t get much bigger than unexpected dangerous pregnancies.

“I’m not sure,” Dr. Paul said.

Her tear-filled eyes were wide as she stared. “But if I go to the hospital right now, the baby will be okay?”

His silence was telling. “I’m not sure,
Preston
, but for right now, he’s alive.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dr. Paul drove.

I fidgeted in the passenger seat of his Mercedes, wishing I could be in two places at once.
Preston
needed me.

Yet Sean needed me more.

We’d driven
Preston
up to Dovie’s house and filled her in before we headed out. Dovie woke Em, and both would stay by
Preston
’s side. I called Cutter, but he hadn’t answered. I left him a message to call Dovie immediately. I could only hope he didn’t answer because he was on a plane on his way here.

We’d crossed paths with the ambulance on our way to the highway.

“Is it really a boy? The baby?” I clarified. “You kept saying ‘him.’”

He nodded.

“Did you know she was pregnant the day she followed you around the hospital?”

“Yes, but I didn’t realize how severe her condition was until I saw her tonight. The baby’s spirit was already starting to leave her body.”

“Is he going to die?”

“I hope not, Lucy. Right now, it could go either way.”

Tears stung my eyes as I thought about a little boy with Cutter’s brown eyes and
Preston
’s spiky blond hair.
Please let him pull through.

Dr. Paul sped along the highway, pushing his car to eighty, ninety miles an hour. There was hardly any traffic, but the city looming ahead looked spooky, half of it in blackness.

The brownout.

Nausea rolled through my stomach, and I stared out the window, trying to keep the queasiness in check.

Dr. Paul said, “Can you connect to Sean psychically?”

“Only when I touch his hand.”

It reminded me of the vision I’d had. The one where we were surrounded by smoke.

I would find him.

I just didn’t know when. Or how.

Directing Dr. Paul to Sean’s old neighborhood wasn’t as easy as I remembered, but we eventually found the street. There was one lone police car at the scene, sitting behind Sean’s Mustang. Sam stood off to the side, speaking to an officer. Several neighbors had emerged from their houses to try and see what was going on.

The neighborhood was in the dark. Not a single light shone from inside the houses.

Dr. Paul pulled up to the curb in front of Sean’s car. I pushed opened the door, took a deep breath to quell the queasiness and pulled my crutches out of the back seat. Sam was by my side in an instant. I made a quick introduction to Dr. Paul and explained about the vision he’d had.

“Why is there only one police car?” I asked.

“The department’s spread thin with the brownout. There’s looting going on downtown.”

Who cared about a couple of stolen TVs when Sean was missing? “Are there any witnesses?”

“Not that we’ve found.”

I glanced at him. “Do the police even believe that Sean’s been kidnapped?”

His face paled. “The note helped convince them.”

“Note?” I asked, swallowing hard.

He motioned with his head for us to follow. He walked along Sean’s car toward the back window. He took out a pen flashlight and shone it onto a message written in red on the glass.

FIND ME IF YOU CAN

I sucked in a breath. “Is that written in blood?”

“Yes,” Sam said.

My knees buckled and Sam and Dr. Paul each grabbed onto an arm. They helped me over to the sidewalk and sat me on the curb.

Tears filled my eyes and spilled over as they sat next to me, one on each side. I glanced at Sam, “Why is someone doing this to him? Why?”

Dr. Paul cleared his throat. “Lucy?”

Tears dripped off my cheeks as I looked at him.

“It’s my feeling,” he said, “that this isn’t about Sean.”

“Then who?” I asked.

His gaze bore into me. “This is about you.”

***

After spending hours at the police station, Sam drove me home while Dr. Paul went to the hospital to check on
Preston
. The morning sun was glowing brightly in a clear blue sky when I opened my front door. Thoreau came bounding out, and Sam said, “I’ll take him for a quick walk.”

I filled food bowls as Grendel and Ebbie circled my feet, washed out their water dish, and tried not to fall apart.

I would find him. I’d seen the smoke.

Sam came back inside, flanked by two men dressed all in black. “It’s okay,” I said to them, not even bothering to make them say “fuzzy navel.” “He’s with me.”

They nodded and disappeared out the door.

“Who are the commandos, Lucy?” Sam asked.

“A gift from a friend. Remember? He was sending over security to watch the house?”

“Wasn’t quite the rent-a-cops I was expecting, but it’s assuring to know you’re in good hands. I’m going to go now.”

“Where?” I asked.

There was no place to go. Nowhere to look.

“Curt Meister and I are going to go back to the scene and scout for more clues, ask more questions.”

Curt Meister. I hadn’t wanted to rule him out as a suspect until Sam confirmed that Curt had been at the firehouse all night long, in the company of at least ten people who could vouch for him.

I’d finally accepted the fact that Dr. Paul might be right.

These fires were about me.

Hurting the people I loved.

Especially Sean.

“You’ll call?” I asked.

He nodded and gave me a hug. “Try to get some rest.”

He was kidding, right?

I watched him go. As soon as he was out of the driveway, I hopped around the house, gathering anything I could find of Sean’s. By the time I was done, there was a mountain in the middle of the living room. Thoreau yapped and brought me over a ball to throw as I sat down on the floor. I tossed it behind me and he took off.

Piece by piece, I picked up Sean’s things and held the item between my hands and tried to get a reading.

One by one, my hopes were dashed.

“Come on!” I cried, picking up one of his books. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on Sean. On everything I loved about him.

I saw nothing.

With a scream, I threw the book across the room.

Who was doing this to us?

To me?

Thoreau pushed his nose into my arm. I picked him up and cuddled him close. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

My cell phone rang, and I hurried to answer it. It was Dovie.

“Any news?” she asked.

“None,” my voice cracked on the word.

“My love,” Dovie said softly. “My heart is breaking for you. Where are you now?”

“At home. I don’t know where to look for him. He could be anywhere.”

“What do the police say?”

“They’re patrolling, but they have nothing to go on. Plus, all these brownouts now. The looting...”

“And the fires.”

“What fires?” I asked, shooing Ebbie out of the laundry area. I closed the bi-fold doors.

“It’s all over the news. Dozens have fires have broken out across the city, set by the looters, they’re saying.”

Goose bumps rose on my arms. Set by the looters? Or an arsonist?

“Come to the hospital, LucyD. It’s better than being home alone, waiting.”

I swallowed hard. I’d never felt so helpless. I wasn’t a wait-around kind of girl. “Okay,” I said. “How’s she doing?”

“It’s worse than we thought, Lucy. It’s all still very much touch and go. Right now, the baby’s still alive.
Preston
was so severely anemic she had to get blood transfusions. Cutter is downstairs right now donating a pint.”

My heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. “He made it, then.”

“About an hour ago.”

“How’s he doing?”

She paused. “Not well. I think he really loves her.”

I knew he did. “I’ll be there soon.”

I hung up and hopped back to my pile of Sean’s things. I belly flopped on top of it, tears spilling from my eyes.

All my anger, frustration, helplessness and desperation seeped out. I bunched up one of his shirts and put it under my head.

Closing my eyes, I pictured his smile, his eyes when he laughed. The way he held me, touched me.

The way he made me believe in love. In happily-ever-afters.

I blinked and saw a baseboard running the length of a room. Wiggling, I rolled over, feeling the carpet beneath my arms, and realized I lying was on the floor.

I sat up and looked around.

What had just happened?

I’d been seeing a scene through someone else’s eyes again. Sean’s?

But how? I hadn’t been holding anything of his.

I lay back down, closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus.

I struggled to sit up, rolling this way and that, and I realized my hands and feet were tied. I lay back down and looked up at the ceiling, at the swirls. Then I looked left and right, at the bare walls painted a soft tangerine color.

I sat up again, my heart pounding, and the vision was gone.

How the hell was this working?

I looked down at the pile I’d been laying on and picked up Sean’s shirt, which had been tucked under my head. I held it in my hands and concentrated as hard as I could.

Nothing.

Then I thought about the other visions I’d had... How there had been a matchstick on my pillow, and the bear next to my head.

Slowly, I lifted Sean’s shirt to my face and breathed in the trace of his scent on the fabric.

I rolled again, back and forth trying to get momentum. Finally, I was able to sit up. I looked around. At the walls, the desk, the chairs, the lamp.

I drew the shirt away from my face. “Holy shit,” I cried. “He’s at the office!”

I jumped up and held the shirt to my face again, breathing in, focusing.

From the sitting position, I was able to stand up. I hopped over to the door, turned so that my hands tied behind my back could grab the handle. It was locked. Using my shoulder, I rammed the door, but nothing happened.

Throwing Sean’s shirt over my shoulder, I hopped over to the bassinet and picked up the pink bear. I held it to my face and breathed in, thinking about
Bethany
.

I was on a swing, my feet kicked out in front of me as I glided through the air. “Higher!”

Ohmygod, ohmygod
.

The visions were related to
scents
.

I hopped back through the living room and into the kitchen for my cell phone.

My heart sank at the scene before me. Ebbie had gotten back into the laundry area and dragged out several plastic grocery bags.

They were shredded on the floor, and a piece hung out of her mouth.

I dropped down next to her. “Tell me you didn’t eat the bags.”

I quickly tried to put the bags back together, jigsaw-style, and it became obvious several chunks were missing.

“Oh no. Oh no!”

I tried to think fast. I had to get to Sean. But Ebbie... I dialed Marisol. She answered on the first ring. “Are you still at Dovie’s?”

“Just getting ready to leave.”