You Can Run... (27 page)

At last, she was high enough. The naked bulb in the center of the room lit up the shabby attic as if it were a movie set, showing layers of dust, cobwebs, torn insulation, years’ worth of discarded furniture, and knickknacks sitting on the grit-covered floor.

Diana saw all of this within five seconds. Then she climbed one more step, her feet still on the ladder, her sweating hands gripping the attic floor. She glanced to her left, from where the blood had dripped on her. Shock dealt Diana a hammer blow as she looked at Nan Murphy, lying inches away from the attic opening, her vacant eyes fixed on Diana, a long gash nearly severing her neck, a pool of violent red spreading around her and oozing toward the attic opening.

Raging fear sucked the air from Diana’s lungs. She couldn’t have screamed even if it would have helped. She felt dizzy and held tightly to the edge of the attic floor for a moment, trying to regain her equilibrium. Starting to hyperventilate, she carefully stepped down onto the next stair and loosened a hand from the edge of the attic floor to place on the stair rail. Suddenly Diana heard a rushing noise before a burst of dust and dirt flew into her eyes,
blinding her. Then she heard an almost inhuman grunt as someone placed a shoe against her chest and thrust. Her sweating hands lost their hold, and the steps seemed to disappear. Diana heard herself screaming thinly as she crashed to the floor of the hall.

“Diana! Diana!” A voice called faintly down a long, dark tunnel. “Diana, can you hear me?”

Yes, I can hear you.
She thought she said it aloud, but the voice asked again, “Can you
hear
me?” A man’s voice. Deep. Familiar. Coming closer to her through the tunnel. Closer.
“Diana!”

“Tyler?” she managed barely above a breath. “Tyler . . .”

“Thank God!” A hand smoothed her hair away from her face. Lips gently touched her cheek. She waited for the lips to touch her again, but instead he asked, “Can you open your eyes?”

With great effort she lifted her eyelids, which felt as if they weighed five pounds each. Through her blurred vision, she could see him leaning over her, his blond-streaked hair falling forward around his tanned face, a line forming between the dark eyebrows over his laser-blue eyes. “Where are we?” she asked foggily.

“You don’t remember?”

“N-No. I think I was looking for someone. . . . Yes, that’s it. Who was I looking for?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I want you to lie still.” She promptly tried to lift her head, and Tyler snapped, “I said lie
still,
dammit!”

“Don’t be mad,” she mumbled. “My head hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. And I’m not mad. I’m worried. Now don’t move while I call nine-one-one. We have to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay. Whatever you want, Tyler.” She smiled weakly at him, ignoring his command not to move and running a shaking finger across his cheekbone. The last thing she remembered was saying dreamily, “Just don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me. . . .”

Diana recalled nothing about the arrival of the ambulance, her ride to the hospital, or her admittance to the emergency room. Slowly she became vaguely aware of a light shining in her eyes, someone placing her body over hard rectangles before somebody else called, “Take a deep breath, hold it, and don’t move.” Finally she felt a sharp pain in her wrist, opened her eyes, and yelped, “Ouch!”

A pair of kind, dark-brown eyes looked at her through glasses. “Ah, you’re back with us, Ms. Sheridan.”

“Have I been somewhere?” Diana asked fuzzily. “I don’t remember going anywhere.”

“Right now you’re in the hospital.”

“Oh,” Diana said without alarm. She looked at him closely. “I know you.”

The doctor smiled. “Indeed you do. We met Friday night when you came to be with your friend’s daughter, Willow.”

“Willow . . . Willow.” Diana looked at the ceiling for a moment then said in triumph, “Willow Conley, and you’re Dr. Evans!”

“Very good! Do you remember what happened to you earlier this evening?”

Diana frowned. She felt as if she was trying to dig barehanded through concrete covering the memory of the evening, and it was too much for her. “No. I don’t remember,” she said with growing agitation. “Why can’t I remember?”

“Don’t be upset. It’s only natural.”

“Natural not to remember what happened a few hours ago?” She tried to sit up but a nurse gently pushed her
down. “Just lie quietly, dear. You have no reason to be afraid.”

Diana looked up at the woman with intelligent dark-blue eyes. “Nurse Trenton!”

“Right again!” The nurse smiled at her. “I was at the desk the night you came to see Willow. You were upset with me because I wouldn’t let you go to her immediately because you aren’t family.”

“Rules are rules,” Diana said in a perfect imitation of Nurse Trenton’s voice.

Miss Trenton and Dr. Evans looked at each other and laughed.

“She hasn’t lost her sense of humor,” Dr. Evans said.

“But I’ve lost a big chunk of my memory,” Diana mourned. “I can’t remember this evening and it scares me. I’m here all alone and I hurt and I’m scared!”

Dr. Evans glanced at his chart then said gently, “You aren’t alone. A young man came with you. He’s been very worried about you. Tyler Raines. Do you want to see him now?”

Diana looked at Miss Trenton. “May I? He’s not family.”

Miss Trenton laughed again, her cheeks turning pink. “My goodness, I didn’t know I sounded like such a tyrant!”

“Not a tyrant.” Diana smiled. “Just firm. And I would very much like to see Tyler.”

A moment later, Tyler Raines entered the room almost tentatively. Although her vision was slightly blurry, Diana could see his eyebrows drawn together in worry. He didn’t look at the doctor or the nurse—just at Diana. “Hi, there,” he said awkwardly. “How do you feel?”

“Fabulous. I’d like to leave here and go out dancing. I’d also like to know what happened to me.” She held out her hand. Tyler stared at it in bewilderment for a moment then seemed to realize that she wanted him to take it in his own. He stepped closer to the examination table and enfolded her hand in both of his. “Tyler, what happened?”

Tyler looked at her uncertainly before he said, “You had a bad fall.”

“A fall? Down the steps at home?”

“Down steps, but not at home.”

“Well, where?”

“I think Tyler should tell you what happened later.” Dr. Evans smiled at her. “Most patients can’t wait to find out what’s wrong with them.”

“I’m the exception to the rule, but I guess you’re going to tell me anyway.” Diana sighed. “Fire away.”

“First of all, you have a concussion. You have what we call a goose egg on your head. It needed three stitches but we only cut a small square out of your hair. You have so much hair, the bald spot will never be noticed.”

“Why do I have a concussion?”

“We told you—you fell down some stairs.”

“Doctor?” Tyler said, sounding alarmed.

“It’s all right, Mr. Raines. This is to be expected.” Dr. Evans looked at Diana. “Concussions can result in confusion, nausea, headache, blurred vision, loss of short-term memory, and perseverating, which is the repetition of a question that’s already been answered several times.”

“I don’t feel nauseated,” Diana said. “I have a headache.”

“And we’ll give you something for that headache in a few minutes,” the doctor said patiently. “As for your other injuries—”

“Oh no, not
more,
” Diana wailed.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” He picked up her left wrist and turned it slightly. She yelped in pain. “You have a sprained wrist. You landed on it and I’m surprised it isn’t broken, but the X-rays tell us you were lucky. We’ll bandage it tightly and you will use it as little as possible. You are right handed, aren’t you?” She nodded. “Then the injury to the left wrist shouldn’t cause you too much trouble. And you have one more injury,” Dr. Evans said.

“Oh no,” Diana groaned.

“It’s called a hip pointer. We see it a lot in football players. It’s caused by a direct blow to the pelvis, more specifically,
the iliac crest. The bony ridge you can feel along the waist and the overlying muscle are bruised. We took X-rays and you’re lucky again, since there’s no fracture. You’ll need rest, ice applications, and anti-inflammatory medication.”

“And I’ll be just like new?” Diana asked hopefully.

“In time. Don’t rush your recovery. Don’t forget the ice packs.”

“We can give you handouts explaining all of these conditions and their treatment,” Nurse Trenton said to Tyler.

“I’d appreciate that.” He gave her his drop-dead grin—deep dimples, white teeth against tanned skin, twinkling eyes—the full package. The nurse’s color heightened.

“Am I done?” Diana asked. “I’d really like to go home now.”

The doctor frowned. “We’ve finished with your tests, but it would be safest for you to spend the night in the hospital.”

Night in the hospital.
Diana’s memory of events immediately preceding the blow to her head might be impaired, but she remembered every detail of Friday night when she stayed in Willow’s hospital room. The mysterious clinking of metal on ceramic in the bathroom, the closed bathroom door she’d watched slowly opening before she’d grabbed Willow and rushed into the hall where she immediately had been greeted by what had sounded like a hail of gunshots. No, she could not bear another night in the hospital.

“No,” she said firmly. “I will not stay here tonight.”

“Diana, if it’s what the doctor thinks is best—” Tyler began.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You’ll be leaving against medical advice,” Nurse Trenton said.

“So be it. I’m going home if I have to walk there!”

Tyler sighed and looked at the doctor. “Diana’s stubborn and hot tempered,” he said as if he’d known her all of his
life. She glared at him. “But we do have some cops waiting to talk to her.”

“Cops!” Diana exclaimed. “The police want to know why I fell?”

Dr. Evans ignored her. “She’s in no condition to talk to them. She can’t really help them now, anyway. She has memory loss.” He looked at Diana. “Do you remember anything else about what happened this evening?”

“No, I honestly don’t. I wanted to talk to somebody. I don’t even remember who.” She looked at Tyler. “Where was I when I fell?”

He hesitated then said, “Nan Murphy’s house.”

“Nan’s!” Images of a messy coffee table, attic stairs, and Nan’s expressionless eyes swirled for a moment, then seemed to sink in mud. “I don’t know why I was at Nan’s.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Tyler said, looking slightly relieved and not giving her a chance to ask any more questions. “I’ll go out and talk to . . .” He broke off. “The people wanting to visit Diana, and tell them they have to hold off until tomorrow.”

Diana tried to sit up quickly, groaned, and lay down again. “I feel like someone ran over me.”

“That’s why we’d like for you to spend the night,” the doctor said.

“Will I hurt any less here than I will at home?”

Dr. Evans smiled. “You’ve got me there, Ms. Sheridan. I’ll give you a prescription for an anti-inflammatory drug and a painkiller. And remember that when you get home, you
must
rest.”

A short while later, Diana was signing forms attesting to the fact that she was voluntarily leaving the hospital against the doctor’s advice. She got dressed with Miss Trenton’s help while Tyler had her prescriptions filled at the hospital pharmacy. Then she and Tyler made a slow trip to his car—Tyler keeping both arms around her, and she not making any effort to shake them off. She still did
not remember what had happened, and Tyler would not tell her. “Not tonight,” he kept saying. “Maybe tomorrow, if you don’t remember on your own.” As they drove to the Van Etton house, Tyler called Simon and told him Diana had refused to stay in the hospital. She realized he’d called Simon earlier, too, telling him what had happened. This time Tyler also alerted him to Diana’s memory loss. “Diana and I have agreed not to talk about what happened to her until later,” he told Simon.

“Traitor,” Diana said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “
I
did not agree to anything. You simply told me how things were going to be.”

“Yeah, I’m bossy,” Tyler said equably. “Also stubborn, headstrong, and hot tempered.” He looked at her, grinning. “Sound like anyone you know?”

“Uncle Simon,” she answered promptly. “No one else.”

“Okay, darlin’, whatever you say. I don’t want to get you riled up and make that goose egg on your head start thumping again.”

Diana touched the large lump on her head. “I just want to know why I was at Nan’s.”

“And your brain just wants you to give it a rest. It’s not as if you’re going to have amnesia for the rest of your life like some character on a soap opera. Everything will come back to you in a couple of days. Maybe even hours. Just settle down and go with the flow.”

“ ‘Go with the flow,’ ” Diana muttered in irritation.

Tyler sighed and said, “Let’s stop with the questions and listen to some music.” He pushed a CD into the player and Nickelback’s “Someday” poured through the car.

“That’s one of my favorite songs!” Diana exclaimed. “I didn’t think . . . well, it’s not what I expected you to like.”

“You thought it was all country music for me. Well, surprise!” He looked at her and smiled. “I’m just full of surprises, Diana.”

“So I’m finding out.”

The Van Etton house seemed to be lit from basement to attic, and all of the landscape lights glared as well. When they reached the house and Simon rushed out to greet Diana, she laughed and said, “What’s with all the lights, Uncle Simon? Are you expecting a dignitary?”

“Yes. You.” Simon flung his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. “What on earth made you go—”

“Tomorrow,” Tyler interrupted. “Plenty of time for questions tomorrow.”

“He’s driving me crazy,” Diana said in a half-annoyed voice. “I can’t remember anything and he won’t tell me what happened, and he won’t let anyone else tell me, either.”

“It’s best that you concentrate on resting,” Simon said. “Come inside out of the night air. You need to go straight upstairs to bed.”