Wonders Never Cease (19 page)

Kemp leaned over to Tino and whispered. “I need to talk to you—in private.”

They stepped out onto the balcony and Kemp pulled the sliding glass door shut behind them. “I've got a problem,” he said.

“And why should this concern me?”

“Because it's your problem too.”

“I'm listening.”

“Hayden's neurologist is a guy named Smithson. I think he might be on to us—at least he might be soon.”

“You told me that wasn't possible. You said there would be no evidence.”

“There shouldn't be—I mean, there isn't. He's just guessing, really—but he's getting suspicious and he says he's going to start asking questions.”

“About what?”

“About me. Last night Smithson told me he's going to put in a call to Johns Hopkins on Monday. He'll hear back from them in a couple of days—and when he does he'll know they don't have any record of a Kemp McAvoy there. How long will it be before Hopkins connects me with Bobby Foscoe? Then Smithson will blow the whistle for sure.”

Tino said nothing.

“Well?”

“Why are you telling me this? Why aren't you including our other partners in this discussion?”

“C'mon, Tino, this is your line of work, not ours.”

“I'm in the loan business, Bobby.”

“And you have to protect your investments, right? Well, this one's about to go up in smoke—unless we do something first.”

Tino studied him for a moment. “I'm faced with a difficult decision,” he said. “I have a sizable investment in you, Bobby, but at some point the risks of an investment outweigh the rewards. I have a feeling I should walk away from this.”

“If you do, you'll never get your money back. That's half a million you can kiss good-bye.”

“True—but dealing with a problem like yours adds considerable risk. Why should I assume that risk?”

“For money—
more
money.”

Tino paused. “How much more money are we talking about?”

“I don't know. I suppose maybe I could—”

“Another half million,” Tino said. “That would make an even million you owe me—a nice round number.”

Kemp looked stunned. “I—I need to think it over.”

“No, you don't—we don't have time. Besides, you're in no position to bargain.”

Kemp swallowed hard. “Okay—another half a million. When will you—you know . . .”

“Never mind. Just forget about it. You've got more important things to worry about—like paying me. And Bobby—that's something you don't want to forget.”

23

K
emp looked at the clock—it was nearly 3:30 a.m. He had dared to go an extra thirty minutes because he knew this was the angel's final opportunity to converse with his earthly apprentice—his last chance to convey anything to Liv Hayden that he wanted her to remember later on. This was the final installment in the “message from beyond.” Tomorrow UCLA would begin to taper off the propofol and slowly bring her out of her coma and back to a fully conscious state—back to planet Earth.

He rolled the examination light into place and looked down at Hayden. It suddenly dawned on him that this would be his last face-to-face encounter with her. Granted, the conversations had been slightly one-sided—but he still felt that the two of them had somehow grown closer from the experience and he was going to miss these late night tête-à-têtes. Kemp bent a little closer and studied Hayden's face.
Man, that is one good-looking woman
. Most of the bruising around her eyes was already gone and her skin had more color in it; the day nurse had even brushed the tangles from her hair.

Sure, she was good-looking—but hey, he hadn't exactly hit every ugly branch falling out of a tree himself. That was another thing they had in common: sex appeal—the kind that sometimes attracted the wrong kind of people. But whose fault was that? You don't blame honey because it draws ants. As Kemp looked at her, he began to realize how many other traits they shared: intelligence, talent, ambition, drive, and that mystical combination of intangible qualities that made them both stand head and shoulders above their contemporaries.

The thought made him feel a little sad. She was so close—he could reach out and touch her face if he wanted to—and yet it was as if there was a sheet of glass between them, keeping them apart. Life was so unfair. Two truly compatible souls, isolated from each other by random fate into two separate worlds. What were the chances that they would ever meet again once she left the hospital? Even if they passed on the street, he knew he would be just another pretty face to her—how could she ever recognize all their commonalities with just a passing glance? Of all the men that she could choose from, how would she know the magic she could share with Kemp McAvoy? How would she know . . .

. . . unless I tell her
.

He quickly checked the notes one last time to make sure he had covered everything that Wes and Biederman and Tino had written. Kemp looked at his watch. Yes—he still had a few minutes to spare.

“I think that's enough business for tonight,” he said to Hayden. “Let's talk about something a little more down-to-earth now, shall we? Let's talk about love.”

The expression on Hayden's face never changed.

“I know you haven't had the best of luck in that area,”
Kemp said. “How many husbands has it been now? Four? Five? I wouldn't blame you if you're feeling a little discouraged about love right about now—maybe even hopeless. Don't give up, Liv—I'm going to tell you a secret that will change the rest of your life.

“You're going to wake up from your coma tomorrow. You're going to leave this hospital and return to your normal life—but your life will never be normal again, Liv. You've been entrusted with a life-changing message, and with great privilege comes great responsibility. It's your job to spread that message to the world. But I know you're only human, Liv. You're not just a messenger; you're a woman, and you have needs. You need a companion—a soul mate—someone who understands a woman like you, someone who appreciates the finer things in life just like you do.

“You know what I'm telling you is true. You've been searching for this man all your life, but you haven't found him yet. Who can blame you? There are almost seven billion people on your planet; what are the odds of finding the one man whose heart truly resonates with yours? Because of your human limitations you are forced to live in one time and one place, and that makes the task almost impossible—but I don't share those limitations, Liv. I am a cosmic being; I transcend all time and space, and I can see your entire world at once. I can see every man on your planet, and I have found the man you have been searching for all your life. He is your perfect soul mate; your heart's deepest desire; your one true love. I know who this man is—and I'm going to send him to you.

“I'm going to describe him to you so that you'll recognize him when you see him. He is very handsome, as you would expect. You could probably recognize him by his looks alone, but just to make sure there are no mistakes I'll give you something more—a ‘password' you might call it, a way for you to know it's him and no one else. When he finds you and approaches you for the first time, he will look deep into your eyes and say these words: ‘I don't believe in accidents—do you?' Remember those words, Liv. Burn them into your memory, because that is how you will know your one true love.”

Leah woke unexpectedly and sat up on the sofa. For a moment she didn't remember where she was; it was her fifth night sleeping in the nurses' break room, but the shadows still looked strange and unfamiliar. She felt a little frightened, though she didn't want to admit it to herself, and she knew that if she lay back down she wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep right away. She hated the idea of just lying there in the dark, staring at the shadows and listening to the unfamiliar sounds—so she threw back the flap on her sleeping bag and felt around on the floor for her slippers.

She looked at the door and saw light flooding in underneath. The light made a long, thin line, like the glowsticks she carried when she trick-or-treated on Halloween. She wondered if anyone would be in the hallway at this time of night, or if everyone would be in their rooms fast asleep; the light seemed to invite her to take a look. She remembered her mother's strict instructions not to leave the break room again—but it was only a look, and surely her mom didn't expect her to sit there in the dark all night long.

She walked to the door and opened it. Light flooded into the room; she squinted and covered her face with both hands. When her eyes had adjusted she looked down the hallway to the left—there was no one in sight, and though the doors were all open most of the rooms were dark. She looked down the hallway to the right; those rooms were all dark too—except for one room at the very end of the hall. That door was closed—and light seemed to be pouring out from under it.

Why was that door closed? What was causing the light? She had to know, though she wasn't sure why.

She padded down the hallway toward the room; her slippers made almost no sound on the hard linoleum floor. When she reached the room she put her ear against the door—nothing. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

The room was filled with a light so brilliant and blinding that it washed the color out of everything in it. The walls, the draperies, even the woman lying faceup on the bed with her eyes half open—everything was a pale whitish-yellow. The light was so intense that it should have hurt her eyes and burned her face, but it didn't. She stared directly into the light without even blinking—and she had the strangest sensation that the light was looking back.

24

N
atalie sat on the park bench and watched Leah dangling from the ancient playground equipment. The jungle gym was the same kind Natalie had played on when she was a little girl—not the molded plastic monstrosities found in more affluent areas, but a simple, stark birdcage of thick plumber's pipe painted green and showing bare metal wherever a child's hands had eventually worn through. Natalie actually preferred the old playground because it gave her a sense of security and continuity with the past, and those were qualities in short supply these days. She wished the park was in a better neighborhood, but at least it was easy walking distance from the house, and so it was their regular recreational destination every Sunday afternoon.

Three sides of the park were surrounded by chain-link fence, and the fourth was a salmon-colored cinder-block wall covered in cryptic spray-painted messages. The territorial claims of the local gangs seemed to be everywhere in L.A.—on every boxcar and overpass and retaining wall. They had become so familiar that to children they were nothing more than decorative artwork, but to grown-ups they served as a reminder that the possibility of violence was never far away. Natalie never looked away from Leah for more than a few seconds at a time, and she kept a wary eye on every childless adult in the park. That's why she had read the same paragraph of her
People
magazine four times—and that's why she spotted Matt while he was still fifty yards away.

She watched him as he approached. He walked directly toward her, and when he smiled and waved he didn't seem at all surprised to see her.
This is no coincidence
, she thought. She shoved her magazine into her purse and thought about reaching for her mirror, but it was too late for that. She ran a quick hand over her hair and turned to greet him.

“What a surprise,” he said. “Imagine meeting you here.”

“Liar.”

He made a low whistle. “You don't let a guy get away with much, do you?”

“It's a lesson I've learned the hard way.”

He pointed to the bench. “Do you mind?”

She shrugged, and he took a seat beside her.

“So,” Natalie said. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I had this whole spiel worked out about how I just happened to be in the neighborhood and I saw this nice park and thought I'd cut across—but you blew that story. I'm not sure what to tell you now.”

“The truth is always nice.”

They watched as Leah attempted to swing from hand to hand on the monkey bars. She missed the second rung, dangled by one arm for a moment, then dropped to the sand.

“Leah's a terrific little girl,” Matt said.

Natalie didn't reply.

Matt looked at her. “You missed your cue. You were supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Matt, that's very kind of you.'”

“I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Natalie said. “Leah's a terrific little girl,
but
—”

“There's no
but
. I think Leah's terrific, that's all. She's bright, and imaginative, and—”