Cast a Pale Shadow(19)

Janey halted her tears with a determined intake of breath and bent to gather her things, glancing up twice to catch his smile.

"That's my girl! Now, don't look back. Be patient and I'll be along shortly."

He heard the car door slam, and he crushed his cigarette into the dirt. Janey did not like him to smoke. She played his little mother when they were together, fussing and fretting over him. So much pent up love within her that he looked forward to drowning in it.

Nicholas noticed with annoyance at his carelessness that he had parked under a street lamp. His car was awash in its pool of light, Janey's halo of dark curls catching the glint of it as she kept her eyes obediently forward, not looking back. Luckily, he had remembered to obscure his license plate with a rag trapped under his trunk lid, and the car was nondescript enough that observers would have difficulty recalling its details. And anyway, Janey had sent the letter explaining why she was running away. She had ample reason. And she was of an age that, with such evidence as the letter, the police would be content to ignore her disappearance, or give it only cursory attention, if her neglectful mother even took enough notice to report it. Janey would be safe with him.

Nicholas roused himself, shrugging off the dredges of his dream. Why Janey? Why now when he worried what had become of her and would probably never know? Would the years bring similar troubling dreams of Trissa?

Not if he didn't go back.

Not if he fell asleep and let the darkness take over. Or if, when more dreams came, they were of the man who called himself Cole Baker.



*****



Dr. Edmonds warmed his stethoscope in the palm of his hand then loosened Trissa's gown to listen to her heart. "Breathe in deeply and hold it. That's good, let it out slowly. Okay, now in and out normally."

Trissa chewed her lower lip all during Edmonds examination, her eyes flitting to the door each time footsteps sounded in the hall.

"Where is your friend this afternoon?" he asked.

"Friend? You mean Nicholas? He went for lunch, they said. He was gone when I woke up."

Edmonds made a few notes on his chart. "I saw him downstairs when I came in," he said. "Is there anything else you want to tell me about your accident while he's not here, Trissa?"

"While he's not..." Was there a hint of suspicion in his tone? "Oh, no, you don't think he had anything to do with my fall, do you? No, no, that's all wrong! He was the one who saved me. It's just that... uh... I was running and I wasn't looking and I ran onto the tr -- I stumbled and--" Her voice constricted. She didn't dare tell the whole truth, yet her clumsy explanations seemed all wrong as the words sputtered out.

"And I tried to catch her before she fell, but we both tumbled over the embankment."

"Nicholas!"

Nicholas leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Hi, Sweetheart. You look much better. Did you have a good nap?"

"Yes. And I ate all my lunch."

"Then it must have been better than mine." The fingers of her right hand beckoned toward him and he clasped them. Their coldness melted in his warm palm.

Edmonds snapped his pen shut and folded his arms across his chest. "Two things, Mr. and Mrs. Brewer," he said, raising his brow toward Nicholas on Trissa's title. "The x-rays look good, so I don't think we have anything to worry about there. But I have asked a colleague, Georgia Pulasky, to come in and have a few words with Mrs. Brewer before I sign the release."

"Another of your standard procedures, Doctor?" Nicholas asked.

"No, it is not standard. And, Trissa, I hope you will be more forthcoming with her than you have been with me. We only want to help you, but to do that you will have to help us a little, too. Will you at least try?" He ignored Nicholas and spoke only to Trissa. She sensed antagonism between the two men. It confused her.

"I don't know what you want," she said.

"Just answer her questions honestly."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Thank you." There was a smug look of triumph on Edmonds' face. "I'll check in on you again, later. Good day, Mr. Brewer.



*****



Nicholas gave Trissa's hand a squeeze then released it to pursue Edmonds out of the room. "Doctor Edmonds, I need a word with you."

"I have rounds to make, Brewer. You've wasted enough of my time." Whatever pleasantness he had contrived to gain Trissa's trust was erased from his voice now that she could no longer hear it. He did not slow his pace down the hall, and once again Nicholas was forced into a limping gait to keep up with his long strides.

Ignoring the disadvantage, Nicholas injected a similar sharp aggression into his tone. "Then why not just release her and cease your damned meddling?"

"Release her to you? You probably have no more right to her than I do."

"Than you do? Is that it, Edmonds? Is that the reason for all your interest?"

"Don't be an ass, Brewer. My interest is only that of doctor for patient."

"And this colleague of yours? You didn't call her doctor. Just what is her interest?"

"She is a psychiatric social worker."

"Psychiatric--" Nicholas took a breath to control the snap of panic the word induced in him. Even so, when he spoke again, it tinged his voice. He wondered if Edmonds would detect it. "No, I refuse. I won't give my permission for that. You're not sending some shrink in there to play around with Trissa's mind."

Edmonds waved a hand to dismiss him as if Brewer's objections were no more than a petty annoyance. "Your permission is not needed. And probably wouldn't be binding if it were. I have the patient's permission. You heard her agree to talk to her yourself."

They had reached the end of the hall and Edmonds finally paused and turned to face him with undisguised contempt. "As for playing around with her mind, you've done your share of that, haven't you? Was that endearing scene in there just for my benefit, or are you always so loving with your wife? Somehow, I doubt it. Whatever happened last night, it has damaged that girl more than just physically. She's so overwrought she can't frame a straightforward response to a simple question. But then, you don't want her to be able to answer questions, do you?"

In a way, Nicholas felt more comfortable now that Edmonds had shed all pretense of civility. He knew Edmonds expected him to reply in kind, and it pleased him to muster enough composure to answer the doctor's outburst with cool, even-toned disdain. "You are an arrogant bastard, Edmonds. But then most doctors are. You have made a lot of assumptions about me and about the accident. For Trissa's sake, I regret I won't have the pleasure of showing you just how wrong you are. But I will promise you one thing. However long you dawdle with this release, Trissa came into this hospital with me and she will leave with me."

"That remains to be seen."

The doctor turned and shouldered his way through the door to the stairwell. Nicholas judged himself the victor in this round. But then, Nicholas had already made up his mind he was going to win. He had battled his way to that decision in the car when he had awakened with the image of Janey as fresh in his mind as the last day he'd seen her.

If he had dreamed of her, he did not remember the details of his dream. There was only Janey, smiling bravely and saying goodbye, neither of them anticipating it would be their last. It had startled him that the memory was so clear after so long. He'd driven away watching her in the rear view mirror as she fidgeted with her clothes, suddenly as unsure of herself as she had been the day they met.

It was her first day on her first job, and as carefully as they had prepared for it, Nicholas knew she was scared. He kissed her goodbye and promised her a celebration dinner as she scooted out of the car. He willed her good luck as he turned the corner and she was lost from sight. Forever. As easily as a car shifts into gear, his mind slipped from him and he lost the next six months. When he came to himself again, he was in another city, in another season.

He had called the number he remembered to be his and Janey's, but a stranger answered. He drove by her old house and saw strangers living there and to the library where they'd met without real expectation of finding her there. He hadn't the courage to seek her any further, to explain his abandonment of her, to beg her understanding. He had only the hope that she forgave him, and maybe, in time, convinced herself it was better that he left. But probably, she hated him. He deserved it. He hated himself for what he had done to her, however little control he'd had of the situation.

And out there in the car in the hospital parking lot, he'd almost let himself do the same thing to Trissa. But this time, he took control. He wouldn't allow it to happen again. He would not let go. He promised Trissa, and this time he would not let go. Neither Edmonds nor anyone else would change that.

When he returned to the room, Trissa stood at her bedside, her small body engulfed in her hospital robe and gown, her face veiled in her shining hair as she bent over the little suitcase he had brought her.