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Authors: Ingrid Weaver

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Delaney's Shadow (52 page)

BOOK: Delaney's Shadow
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It was happening again. She was slipping away. She splayed her fingers, trying to stay with him. “Rick, please, don’t let me go to sleep! I have to stay awake!”
Her plea went unanswered. He couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t even hear herself over the earsplitting noise. Another explosion shook the ground. The wall beside them burst inward. The bullet-riddled roof collapsed, burying them under a pile of burning debris.
Rick! Get up!
He didn’t move. A roof beam lay across his shoulders. His body was a deadweight on hers.
The void opened. Elizabeth screamed her resistance. No! She couldn’t give up now. Rescue was within reach. She knew it. She felt it. All she had to do was stay alive. Someone was bound to find them.
 
ALAN CHECKED HIS WATCH, THEN AIMED THE REMOTE AT the TV on the wall to switch off the news and pushed himself out of the chair. He needed to get moving if he was going to make the game. The Rangers were playing the Bruins tonight and Grayecorp had season tickets on the blue line. He wasn’t much of a hockey fan himself, but Sherri Silver was Canadian so what else could he expect? She also happened to be the only daughter of a man who owned a very lucrative gold mine.
Alan considered himself quite accomplished in the art of seducing poor little rich girls, but being shackled to Elizabeth cramped his style. If he’d been free to pursue Sherri openly, he would have had her in his bed months ago, but playing the sympathy card was slow work. The main reason he’d managed to get as far with her as he had was because she was impressed by his devotion to his fiancée. She was also impressed by his choice of fiancée. Sherri’s father had begun as a common prospector, wandering around the wilds of Northern Quebec, before he’d struck it rich. Her family had wealth, but no roots or pedigree like Elizabeth’s. Sherri was intelligent enough, but she had no competitive streak; she was more like a guppy than a shark. He suspected she felt flattered by his attention, since any comparison between the two women wouldn’t favor Sherri. She couldn’t open the doors Elizabeth could, or provide access to the kind of power that controlling Grayecorp would give him.
But Alan was at the point where he couldn’t afford the luxury of being choosy. His expenses were mounting. So were the demands from his creditors. The project he’d initiated on the expectation of Elizabeth’s financial backing was in danger of falling through unless he found alternate financing. He needed to hedge his bets. Unlike the turnip he was still engaged to, Sherri was fully capable of signing a check.
“Damn you, Elizabeth,” he muttered, pulling on his coat. “I’ve given you more time than you deserve. You’ve got no right to do this to me.”
He eyed the equipment that kept her alive. The hums and beeps were getting on his nerves. They were as relentless as she used to be. Too bad Lidstone got scared off by Delaney—pulling the plugs would have been the perfect solution, particularly if someone else had done it. Even the fraction of Elizabeth’s estate Alan would get through a palimony suit would have been better than nothing. He shifted his gaze to the bed. “Why can’t you just die?”
She moved her hand.
Alan froze. He couldn’t have seen what he’d thought he had. It must have been an optical illusion, or maybe a reflection of his own hand in the metal bed rail. He rubbed his face and looked again.
There was no mistake. Elizabeth was holding her right hand an inch above the mattress.
Alan glanced behind him to make sure the door of her room was shut, then stepped closer to the bed. He kept his arms at his sides. “Elizabeth?”
Her breathing became ragged. Her body stiffened with her efforts to keep her hand in the air.
The occasional twitches he’d witnessed during his previous visits were nothing compared to what he was seeing now. She had never moved her hand before. This didn’t appear to be the result of an involuntary reflex. The gesture seemed deliberate. It was more life than she’d displayed in five months.
Could Delaney be right? Was it possible for Elizabeth to wake up? Hell, if she did, there was little chance of Sherri taking out her checkbook. He’d assured her that his fiancée’s death was imminent.
He needed time to consider a fallback position. He also had better watch what he said around Elizabeth. “Can you hear me, darling?”
She spread her fingers, as if she were grasping for something. An alarm dinged from the direction of the monitors.
Alan glanced over his shoulder again, then grabbed her hand and pushed it back to the bed.
She put up no resistance. Whatever strength she’d managed to dredge up appeared to desert her. Her hand went limp. Her body relaxed.
So did his. By the time the door swung open behind him, the sounds from the monitors had reverted to their typical monotonous pattern. “Mr. Rashotte! What’s going on?”
Alan blanked his expression before he looked at the nurse. It was Beryl tonight, one of the older ones. He didn’t like her. She was too rigid. She reminded him of a traffic cop. “Hello, Beryl. I didn’t see you when I came in. Is something wrong?”
“There was a sudden increase in Miss Graye’s heart rate.” She went to the other side of the bed to take Elizabeth’s pulse. “Didn’t you hear the alarm?”
“An alarm? No, I don’t think so. What’s wrong with her heart?”
Beryl didn’t reply immediately. She frowned at the monitors. “Nothing, now. Her pulse rate appears to be back to normal.”
“That’s odd.”
“Yes, it is. Didn’t you notice anything unusual a few minutes ago?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I didn’t.”
“Any agitation? Any movement?”
“She was the same as always. Could those machines be malfunctioning?”
Her frown deepened. “I’ll make a note to have the technician check the equipment in the morning.”
“That’s reassuring. Elizabeth’s so dependent on them, I’d hate to think what could happen if they broke down.”
“Are you certain you didn’t see any change in her?”
“Sorry, no. Not a thing.”
 
BOOK: Delaney's Shadow
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