Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(11)

The only thing that made it all bearable was the fact that Nina had promised her Indian food, a soothing cool mango lassi to wash it down, and sympathy. Lily was desperately in need of all three. She was mustering the oomph to climb the stairs to street level when the phone finally buzzed. Howard’s doctor. Finally. She snatched it out of her purse, covering her other ear in a vain attempt to block out the rattling screech of the train as it pulled out. She yelled into it. “Dr. Stark? I’m so glad you called! I wanted to talk to you about Howard.”

“Lily. I have bad news.” His voice was unusually stiff.

Bad news? What strength she had drained promptly out of her legs and left her wobbling on the stairs. What could be worse about Howard’s condition other than . . .

Her belly lurched with dread. “What bad news?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you this,” the doctor said. “But after you left this afternoon, I’m afraid Howard, ah . . . well, he took his own life.”

“Took his own . . .” Her voice trailed off. “He what?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Afraid so? Afraid of what? What the f*ck did this guy have to be afraid of? She was the one who’d lived in fear for eighteen goddamn years.

Her mind picked at the guy’s stupid word choice so she didn’t have to process what he’d actually said. What it meant for her.

Ah, God. For so long now, the whole purpose of her existence had been to stop Howard from doing this. And he’d done it anyway. After all these years. All the nets she’d held out. They hadn’t been enough to catch him. All pointless. All her frantic effort. Flailing like an idiot. Oh, God.

Stark’s voice droned on. She couldn’t make out his words. She was seeing all the times she’d found Howard on the floor and sat with him there for hours, waiting for him to wake up. Feeling his pulse, holding a mirror in front of his nose, trying to judge if this was a normal opiate binge that he would sleep off, or one of the deadly biggies, before she called the ambulance, again, and wasted the EMTs’ valuable time, to say nothing of her meager household budget.

The man’s whole f*cking life, one long goddamn suicide attempt.

And he’d pulled it off. That selfish bastard. She wanted to scream, explode, shoot things, smash things. Her chest burned, her throat was imploding. She felt stupid. Made a fool of once again. Just another little joke of Fate at Lily Parr’s expense. Hah, hah.

Dr. Stark’s voice came back into focus. “. . . what arrangements need to be made, so you should contact our administrative—”

“How?” she cut in.

“Uh . . . uh, what? You mean, how should you contact our administrative—”

“No, I mean, how did he do it? Was it pills? Where the f*ck did he get pills in that place? What the f*ck was I paying you guys for? Wasn’t he locked up? Wasn’t he guarded, watched all the time? Wasn’t that the deal we made? I pay, you guys watch? Exactly what part of that arrangement was unclear to you?”

Stark hesitated, clearing his throat nervously for several seconds. “Ah, well, no. It wasn’t pills. Believe me, Lily, I’m mortified about this. We’re all so shocked . . . We just can’t imagine how he found it. He got a piece of broken glass someplace, evidently. I can’t imagine where, or from what. He never went out, and you were his only visitor. He was constantly supervised. I’m so sorry, Lily, but he opened the artery in his wrist with the glass shard. It was probably over in a couple of minutes.”

“Bullshit,” she said.

That cut off Stark’s monologue, startling him into a nervous stammer. “Ah . . . ah, ex-excuse me?”

“I said, that’s bullshit,” she repeated. “Howard would never cut himself. Not in a million years. He was terrified of blood. Blood made him pass out. Howard liked pills. He would never slit his wrist.”

“Ah” Dr. Stark’s voice strengthened. “Well, I’m sorry to say it, Lily, but he did. He most unquestionably did. I saw him myself.”

Then someone else killed him. She almost blurted it out, but stopped herself. Howard’s words echoed in her head.

They’re listening, Lil. They’re always listening.

The world retreated. She felt the jostle of people forcing their way past her on the stairs, but they seemed very far away, and the real Lily was deep within, locked in a place of breathless, gelid stillness.

If I tell you, they’ll know. They’ll come for you. They’ll kill both of us.

She clawed her way back. Forced lungs to breathe, legs to climb. She tried to tune in to what Stark was saying, but there was so much noise. Her ears buzzed. So loud. She stumbled out onto the sidewalk. Autopilot guided her toward Nina’s apartment.

“Who was the last one to see him?” she blurted, cutting off the senseless babble from the phone.

Stark made a huffy sound. He did not like to be interrupted. “As I said, the nurse on duty, Miriam Vargas, was the one who found him.”

The cold inside her deepened, spread. “I want to talk to her,” Lily said. “Now. I’ll come right back up. I’ll take the next train.”

“No,” Stark snapped. “You can’t speak to her now. She was shocked. She couldn’t stop crying. She’s been sedated.”

“Oh, really? That poor, sweet baby. You’re breaking my heart.”