A Special Man (6 page)

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Authors: Billie Green

BOOK: A Special Man
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"Give me a break, Ginny," Amanda said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. When the nurse swung around, she said, "No, sit down and be quiet. You've got things that Leah could never have. But you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to see it. You've got warmth and humanity. She has cold perfection. Men are just scalps to Leah. You said Paul was intelligent; well, he's too intelligent to fall for a phony."

Ginny moved closer, a bewildered look on her face. "Leah likes causing trouble," Amanda continued. She thought of the blonde touching Danny, and her features became grim. "I've a good mind to do something drastic to her pretty face next time I see her.''

Sinking to the couch, Ginny said, "I want to believe him. But how can I? It's perfectly reasonable that he should be attracted to her."

"It's not. It's stupid. And you're stupid to let that woman come between you. Have you ever thought that you're reacting exactly the way she wants you to? Why give her that satisfaction?"

She could see Ginny's mind working, the gears turning slowly. "You're right," the nurse said at last. "I've seen her smirking. I don't think she even likes Paul all that much. She just didn't want me to have him. When Delores's friend came to visit yesterday, and I took him out to the pool, Leah watched me with that narrow-eyed stare that will make cold chills run down your back. She's just waiting for me to crack. By God, she won't see it."

Amanda chuckled. "That's the stuff." She was silent for a moment, a frown twisting her lips. "Speaking of visitors, Ginny, does Danny get many?"

"None," she said, shaking her head. "Not one in all the time he's been with—" Ginny broke off, her eyes widening in horror. "Danny!" she gasped. "I forgot his medication! Paul and I—"

Amanda didn't give her time to finish. Her heart began to pound, and she was on her feet before the nurse could pull herself together. Within seconds she was out the door with Ginny close behind.

They heard the shouts before they reached his room. When they rushed in, Tom Dicks and another man were trying to hold Danny down, trying and failing.

Amanda couldn't believe it. They had told her he would become violent, but it hadn't seemed possible. Not her Danny. Not her
parfait gentil
knight.

Ginny went immediately to the phone to call for help, leaving Amanda standing helplessly just inside the door. She couldn't stand to see him like this. She had to do something to help.

She moved toward him. "Danny, it's Mandy," she said, her voice soothing. "I'm here now. You're okay. Everything will be all right now."

"Don't get too close, Miss," the guard yelled.

But it was too late. Before either of the men could prevent it, Danny lashed out and struck her across the chest, knocking her back against the bed. She felt a sharp pain in her side as she fell in a heap to the floor.

At that moment three men rushed into the bedroom. The five men together held Danny down on the bed while Ginny gave him his injection. Amanda moved out of the way and watched it all in tense silence.

Almost immediately Danny subsided, his breathing hard, his eyes closed. Ginny spoke quietly to the guards. Then when all the men except Tom had gone, she turned to Amanda.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Amanda nodded slowly. "I'm fine. It was stupid of me to think I could help him," she said, forcing her voice to sound calm.

But Amanda was anything but calm. She had lied to Ginny. She wasn't all right, and she didn't know if she would ever be all right again. When Danny struck out at her she had seen something in his eyes that she would never forget. She had seen a cold, deep fury, and unbelievably, she had seen terror.

Slowly she stood. As she drew near him, he turned his head. Suddenly a small smile twisted his strong lips. "Mandy," he said softly. "Your hair is mussed. I like it."

Amanda almost cried. Murmuring an excuse, she quickly left his room and made her way back to her office.

She was too involved with him, she told herself over and over again as she rocked back and forth in the leather chair. It had to change. And it had to change now. She couldn't take any more. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. If things continued the way they were, she would explode in sheer excess of emotion.

All morning she worked like a woman possessed, trying to keep her mind off Mm. But every few minutes, she glanced at the wall clock. Their usual time together came and went, and the minutes slowed.

Twenty minutes after she should have met Danny, the door to her office opened, and Ted walked in. Amanda put aside her pencil with a sigh. She found she liked the famous Dr. Sutherland less and less every day, but anything was better than being alone with her thoughts.

"I'm sorry our evening was cut short," he said, his smile showing just the right mixture of charm and regret.

Amanda glanced at him quizzically. She had thought their evening was over when they left his apartment.

"Of course people would have talked if you had stayed at my place." Sitting on the edge of her desk, he picked up her hand. "But there's a small room in the basement where no one would have found us."

Oh, great, she thought wearily. A lecherous boss was all she needed now. Why couldn't everyone leave her alone so that she could go quietly insane?

As she watched in reluctant fascination, he lifted her hand to his mouth. He didn't so much kiss it as wrap his lips around her knuckles. She had seen the look in his eyes before, and it had always spelled trouble.

Standing abruptly, she moved away from the desk. "I've never seen the basement. Ginny says your lab is really something."

"How would you like to see it tonight?" he asked, slowly stalking her.

"That would be nice, but I'm afraid I've made plans for tonight." Every step backward she took was matched by one forward from Ted.

This is ridiculous, she told herself as her back met the wall. It was something out of a French farce, and never had she been less in the mood for a farce.

"Don't you know why I hired you, Amanda?" he said softly, his fingers stroking her hair. "That first day I saw you, I could tell you were just as attracted to me as I was to you. It was unfortunate that I had to leave for England so soon after you arrived."

He seemed to take it for granted that she was willing, Amanda thought, staring at him curiously. He was probably used to women jumping enthusiastically into his bed. Odds were he didn't even have to ask them.

But not Amanda, never Amanda, she told herself in determination. It was an awkward position to be in. She couldn't bear to leave Greenleigh now. But as he pressed his lower body against her, she felt that the choice had been taken out of her hands.

Keep cool, she told herself, fighting the urge to kick him. There had to be a way out of this, a way that would let her keep her job and her virtue.

Suddenly, amazingly, Ted was jerked away from her. Blinking rapidly, she caught her breath in surprise. Danny was beside her, holding Ted by the scruff of the neck so that only the tips of his handmade Italian shoes touched the floor.

"You're late," Danny said calmly. "We were going for a walk."

Her lips twitched. "Yes, you're right," she said, the words choked. "We'll go right now. But first I'd like you to put Dr. Sutherland down—he's beginning to turn purple." She smiled up into Danny's peaceful eyes. "It clashes with his tie."

Danny slanted a look at Ted, then slowly lowered him to the floor. Taking Amanda's arm, he led the way to the door. Behind them, Amanda could hear Ted gasping for breath.

When they walked out a side door into the open air, she laughed, softly at first, then louder with exhilaration as they ran toward the woods. They didn't stop until they reached their spot by the stream. Then they threw themselves on the grass, catching their breath.

Danny glanced at her, smiling. "I like to hear you laugh. Maybe I should pick the doctor up everyday."

"That's not a bad idea," she said, drawing in a calming breath. "No, I'm just teasing. You remember what I told you about your strength. It wasn't nice to make the doctor look like a fool." A bigger fool, she added silently.

Danny stared at the horizon. "I don't like him. He's..." He frowned and she knew he was trying to reach for a word, a thought. It hurt to see the frustration in his face.

It was so wrong, she thought. She simply refused to believe Danny couldn't be helped with therapy. She knew that Ted had told her, but doctors had been known to make mistakes. Danny was a special case. He was different. There was something below the surface that needed exploring, something...

Suddenly Amanda felt weak as the truth hit her like a tidal wave. She believed he was different because she wanted it to be so. Because she loved him. Not as she would love a child but as she could love a man.

My God! she thought weakly. It couldn't be happening. She had known she was too involved; she had known it for days. But the possibility that she could be falling in love with him had never occurred to her. Not even when she admitted she had never in her life been as happy as when she was with Danny.

She pushed her hands roughly through her dark hair. What was she going to do? What could she do? She needed to think.

"I wish—"

She glanced at Danny to find him staring at her, his gray eyes brooding. "What do you wish, Danny?"

"I wish it was all different."

"Different how?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I wish I weren't me or you weren't you." He sat up abruptly. "I said we were alike, but we're not. You and Dr. Sutherland are alike."

He had said aloud what she had not been able to admit even to herself. There was a dividing wall between them. An insurmountable wall. Racial, social, religious barriers were nothing compared to the barrier between them.

He stood up and for a moment his eyes met hers, then he glanced away quickly. But not quickly enough. Amanda had seen and recognized the hopelessness in his eyes. It was the same hopelessness she felt in her heart.

"Oh, Danny," she whispered as she watched him walk away from her. "What are we going to do now?"

Chapter Six

It was only two days later that Amanda heard about Maribel Fortnoy.

As usual, Ginny had come in to spend her morning coffee break in Amanda's office. Amanda, preoccupied as she was with her relationship with Danny, only half listened to the nurse's bits of gossip. It took her a while to sense a restlessness in her friend.

"Is something bothering you?" she asked.

Ginny set down her cup. "Sometimes I don't know why I ever became a nurse. Why couldn't I have chosen something dull—like prostitution or bomb control? Anything would be better than this."

"You really are upset," Amanda said in surprise, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said in exasperation. "I seem to be in a mood lately. Everything gets to me. Now we've been asked to double Maribel's medication, and it just seemed like the last straw."

Amanda glanced up from her coffee. The tone of Ginny's voice should have warned her, but it didn't. It simply sounded like nurse talk.

"I hate it when they get worse," Ginny said, pushing her hair back with a careless hand. "It's bad enough with a regular patient, but when it's one of the Special Ones, Dr. Sutherland takes it hard."

Now she had Amanda's complete attention. "What's wrong with Maribel? I didn't even know she was sick. When her niece was here yesterday, she looked fine." Amanda thought of the older woman as she had seen her the day before, all pink and white ruffles, a smear of chocolate on her chin. "I don't like her niece," Amanda added, frowning. "She was abrupt with Maribel. I know Maribel's a pain sometimes, but that's no excuse for rudeness."

Ginny nodded her agreement. "I didn't care much for her either, but that won't keep her from getting all of poor old Maribel's money when she dies." She gave Amanda a significant look. "The niece is her only relative."

"Is there a chance of that happening?" Amanda asked, shocked somehow at the thought of it.

Ginny shrugged. "She's not good. She's given all the nurses hell, but I hate to see her get sick. Dr. Sutherland ordered her medication doubled this morning...that's always a bad sign." She sighed. "That poor man. He gets involved with all his patients. But especially the ones with Sutherland's Complex."

Amanda had seen no evidence of that herself. In fact, beneath the surface, he seemed to be a rather cold man. But it wasn't Amanda's place to burst Ginny's bubble.

"He takes it as a personal failure when something happens to them because it's his specialty," Ginny continued.

"Well," Amanda said as she picked up her coffee cup, "let's just hope she gets better."

But she didn't. The next morning, the word went around in whispers as though it were a mysterious disease that would somehow spread if spoken of aloud—Maribel was failing.

During her morning break Amanda made her way to B-North to see Maribel for herself. She walked into the older woman's room, nodding to the nurse who sat beside the bed. The room was dim, but there was enough light for her to see that the whispers had been true. The woman on the bed was an empty shell. She looked directly at Amanda, but there was no recognition in her pale eyes.

"Maribel?" Amanda said softly.

"She won't know you," the nurse said, her voice subdued. "She's already gone past that. Last night she lost control of her movements and her bodily functions. I'm afraid she hasn't got long."

How could it happen so fast? Amanda wondered, rubbing her temple as she turned to leave the room. Dying shouldn't happen this quickly if it wasn't through violence. Disease should linger and give one time to get used to it.

She couldn't get Maribel out of her mind, even when she met Danny at the stables. As though sensing her mood, he set a frantic pace. They rode hard and fast, and at times she felt they were trying to outrun fate,

By the time they dismounted beside the woods, Amanda felt less restless, but it was only as they walked through the woods that she actually felt peace return.

"Do you ever get scared?" Danny asked suddenly.

"All the time, Danny," she said quietly. "All the time." She glanced at him in concern. "Why do you ask? Has something scared you?"

"It isn't something exactly. Sometimes... not any special time, just sometimes, I feel funny. Dizzy or something—I can't explain—and... and I know something is wrong, and I can't tell what it is." He glanced at her. "They said Mrs. Fortnoy is dying."

"And hearing that made you feel the strange way?"

"Not exactly. It just makes me remember those times. And I don't want to remember them. I want to pretend they never happen."

"Come on, let's sit down." They walked down a slope toward a pond and lay propped up on their elbows as they watched the ducks.

"My father used to tell me a story," she said, smiling as she sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I remember the first time he told it—I must have been about five at the time—and in the middle of the night I woke up from a nightmare with my heart pounding like it wanted to get oat of my chest. I ran down the hall to my parents' bedroom." She laughed. "Oh, how I begged to sleep with them. Just this one time, I said. But my father wouldn't let me. He sat on the side of the bed with me on his lap, and he made me tell him all about the dream. It was full of shadows and robbers and dragons that especially like to eat five-year-old girls."

Danny smiled slightly, his eyes trained on her face as she continued. "When I finished, he told me a story about a little girl who was afraid. Not just of dragons but of everything. She hid in a box because inside she felt safe; she had definite boundaries, and she could see into every corner. Nothing could get her there." She glanced at Danny. "At the age of five that didn't sound so bad. But then he started to tell me what else couldn't get into the box. Things like laughter and sunshine and love. Nothing new and exciting could happen because nothing could get in. Then he told me something I'll never forget. He said, 'Amanda, nothing in the world is as bad as being afraid—no dragons, no monsters, no shadows. You've got to turn on what frightens you. That way you control the fear instead of letting it control you. Confront the dragon, baby. Always confront the dragon.'"

She picked up Danny's hand. "I've been afraid a lot of times since then, Danny. But I always remember what he told me. I've found out that fear is a diminishing emotion. It makes you seem less in your own eyes. So let's make a pact. When either one of us gets scared we'll find the other, and we'll confront the dragon together."

He stared down at her silently for a long time, then he said, "I love you so much, Mandy."

Her breath caught in her throat. "I love you too, Danny," she whispered hoarsely.

Later that same afternoon, Amanda heard that Maribel Fortnoy was dead. She had known since her visit that it would come, but still it was a shock. She had never felt this particular helplessness, the frustration that death brought to the survivors. It left her restless. Dinner was out of the question, and she couldn't stand the thought of going to her room.

Maribel's file would have to be closed sooner or later, she thought as she shifted in the leather chair behind her desk. And there were insurance papers to be taken care of. Now was as good a time as any to tackle it all.

But when she went to the file cabinet and began going through the files, Maribel's was not among them. Muttering in annoyance, Amanda went to the nurses' station.

"Ginny," she called as she saw the nurse leaving. "I can't find Maribel's file. Was it kept somewhere else?"

"Not the financial records," Ginny said, frowning. "Her medical file is in the basement along with the other Special Ones. Dr. Sutherland keeps them there so that when he's working in the lab, he can pull them and compare them to his notes. The financial records are supposed to be in your office." She grimaced. "Lord, I hope Maxi hasn't screwed up again. If she stuck financial records in with the medical file, it could be the last straw."

Amanda shook her head. "There's no need for anyone to know. I'll simply go to the lab and cheek."

Ginny leaned against the wall, scratching her chin thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you can't do that. The laboratory and the file cabinet are both kept locked. Danny's and Maribel's medical records are always filed at the end of the day by Oates, the warden. Other than Dr. Sutherland, she's the only one who has the keys."

"But wouldn't she have noticed if a financial file was in there also?" Amanda asked.

"Are you kidding?" Ginny gave her a skeptical glance. "She only knows how to run this place. She would think it was beneath her to know about the files. She only takes care of them because it shows her authority—the Keeper of the Keys."

"All the files should be color-coded to keep mistakes like this from happening," Amanda said as she rubbed the back of her aching neck. "But I'm afraid that won't help Maxi right now. What a mess."

"Look," Ginny said, glancing around furtively, "I know where Oates keeps the keys. If you'll meet me in the basement, we can check the files and straighten them out without anyone knowing about it."

Amanda agreed readily, and later she arrived at the lab door just ahead of Ginny. "Thank goodness the warden was having her tea," Ginny said, unlocking the door. She handed Amanda the keys as they walked inside. "It's the small one. I'm going to check on a couple of the animals."

Ted's laboratory, covering the entire basement, was just as enormous, just as elaborate as Ginny had said.

Baffling machines and gadgets sat around on gleaming white counters. Along one wall was a row of cages containing, from what Amanda could see, monkeys and white rats.

The file cabinet was in one corner of the huge room, along with a small metal desk. Walking to the cabinet, Amanda unlocked it, feeling like a cat burglar as she began to go through the files.

"Egan... Everett... Falcon," she murmured, laying the keys on the top as she came to the right file. "Fortnoy."

She began to pull it out, but it was wedged up against the others and two more came with it. At that moment one of the monkeys screeched, causing her to jump skittishly. All three files fell to the floor.

"Oh, great," she muttered to herself. "Some great burglar you'd make."

Kneeling, she gathered up the papers, glancing through them to make sure they went back into the right folders. Suddenly her eye caught something in one of the files. Frowning, she looked at the other one and checked it also.

Standing abruptly, the papers she had held fell unheeded to the floor as she began going through the files in the cabinet. Her movements were awkward, becoming frantic as she checked file after file.

Suddenly she stopped and leaned against the cold metal cabinet. Her face was gray as she stood there trying to still the tremors that shook her from within.

Turning slowly, she walked toward Ginny, her movements stiff and mechanical. Ginny turned with a smile that died suddenly as she stared at Amanda. "What's wrong?"

Amanda closed her eyes and swallowed. "All those patients... those are the ones with Sutherland's Complex, is that right?"

Ginny nodded, her expression puzzled.

"There must be twenty, twenty-five files there, covering a seven-year period."

"Yes."

"Ginny...they all died," she whispered hoarsely. "Every one of them died."

Ginny sank back against the counter. "God, Amanda, I thought you knew. I'm sorry."

"Tell me."

"The Special Ones all die within two to two and a half years of developing the first symptoms. It would be a lot quicker if Dr. Sutherland hadn't discovered the drug we give them. What happened to Maribel would happen within weeks if left on its own."

It was too much. The room swam crazily around her; gravity pulled at her. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to remain upright.

Danny was going to die.

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