Remembrance (The Mediator #7)(44)
NOV 17 4:20 PM
What? I studied my phone more closely. Of course. The ringer had been switched off. Not only that, the screen saver had been changed from a photo of my pet rat, Romeo, adorably asleep on my fiancé’s shoulder as Jesse read one of his medical textbooks, to one of all three of my stepnieces in the backseat of the Land Rover, leering into the camera.
I glanced at the vending area, where Flopsy and Mopsy were now fighting over a bag of Skittles. A favorite trick of the triplets was to sneak electronic devices out of the bag or pocket of whatever adult was nearby, then completely reset them and slip them back without the person ever suspecting.
When they were older they were going to end up either in prison or working for the NSA.
I sighed and scrolled to the next text.
Jesse Don’t worry, querida. Everything is going to be all right. I’ll take care of this.
I swear.
NOV 17 4:25 PM
“I’ll take care of this.”
What was he talking about? What was there that he could take care of that I didn’t have under control?
His next text was only slightly more illuminating.
Jesse No one’s at your office. You must be at the hospital. I will see you there.
I stopped by the church to pick up a few of the father’s things.
Te amo, querida.
Nov 17 5:05 PM
An ordinary person reading that text would have thought, “Oh, how sweet! Her boyfriend stopped to pick up the old man’s toothbrush, a change of underwear, and maybe some pajamas and slippers and the priest’s latest copy of Catholic News.”
No. No way. Knowing my boyfriend, I suspect the things Jesse probably stopped to retrieve were the good father’s Bible, crucifix, rosary, Virgin Mary medal, and holy water and sacramental wafers pilfered from the tabernacle on the altar inside the church.
Because those are the things you needed to perform a good, old-fashioned exorcism.
Great. Just great. While I completely agreed that no spirit should be allowed to attack a sweet, innocent old man like Father Dominic, who’d only meant to help her, that didn’t mean I thought her soul should be cast into eternal damnation, especially now that I’d learned some of the details about Lucia’s death from Father Dominic—and even more from her obituary, which CeeCee had managed to find and send to me earlier that afternoon.
I was wondering what to text back—I can’t believe you’d steal holy bread and wine from a church, but you won’t have sex with me didn’t seem right somehow—when suddenly a new message popped up on my screen. I was assuming it was from Jesse until I clicked on it.
El Diablo What did you think of the flowers?
NOV 17 5:05 PM
Really? Was he kidding me? He really was the devil.
I was stabbing at my phone to delete all trace of him when something awful occurred to me, something that chilled me even more than Paul’s text or the thought of my fiancé exorcising a baby banshee:
Jesse had been by my office to look for me. That meant he’d seen the flowers on my desk.
Damn!
And what had I done with the card Paul had written to me? With everything that had happened, I couldn’t remember.
I was so screwed.
“Susannah?”
I started at the sound of the voice coming from behind me. Peggy had returned with a nurse I recognized from the many times Jake and I had dropped by to visit Jesse when he was working in the ER. The nurse recognized me, too, but fortunately not as the stepsister of the long-haired dude who liked to prank the hospital’s volunteers by asking them gravely to please page, “Dr. Butt. Dr. Chafe Butt” (it was shocking how often they fell for this).
“Susannah, I thought that was you,” Sherry said with a smile. “Peggy told me there was a crazy woman out here who was threatening to infect the maternity ward with measles. But then I saw who it was.”
“Hi, Sherry.” I almost melted with relief. “Yes, it’s me. Sorry about the theatrics. They brought my boss in here a little while ago, Father Dominic from the Junípero Serra Mission Academy?”
She stopped smiling, which was never a good sign. “Yes, of course.”
“Um, he’s okay, right? I really need to get upstairs to see him, the sooner the better.”
“Of course.” Sherry used that soothing tone that nurses employ to make you feel better, even though you suspect they don’t really believe a word you’ve said. You don’t drink more than three alcoholic beverages a week? Riiiiight. “Peggy, this is Susannah Simon, she’s engaged to Dr. de Silva.”
I saw Peggy give me a quick look, as if she was appraising me in a whole new light.
“Oh,” Peggy said. “Really?”
It was evident from her flat tone that she disapproved.
I wasn’t surprised. Jesse was extremely popular with the mostly female nursing staff (and some of the males, as well) because he was not only easy on the eyes, but also charming, good-humored, and occasionally brought cookies for everyone in the staff room.
Cookies I’d made, thinking it wouldn’t hurt for him to get into the good graces of the staff.
I thought about grabbing Peggy by her copious red hair and smashing her face into her computer screen, but only briefly. I’d never have done it. Probably.