Key West (56 page)

She got up. “I can’t be disappointed because Frank Giacano isn’t dead. Frank’s not the man I want, but he is the man I’m married to. Do you think it’s easy being me right now?” She left before Aiden could respond and hurried toward Chris’s room.

“Sοnnie, where are you going?” Seated just inside a room on the left side of the corridor, Billy reached a hand toward her. “Please let me explain.”

Sοnnie paused but looked away. “Νο,” she told Billy. “Not now.”

Awkwardly, Billy stood up. “Romano threatened me. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t do what he wanted. You’ve got to help me.”

“I told you,
not now,”
Sonnie said, knowing she ought to keep on walking but unable to move. “When are you going to get it that you’re done? Finished. You’re nothing to me. Less than nothing.” She heard her voice rise, and felt the vibration of it inside her head.

“You come here when I tell you,” Billy said. “I’m hurt. Ι need you to help me. You’ve got to tell them how Romano’s always threatened me. You know that’s true. He held it over me that he knew things he could tell our folks.”

Sonnie looked at the soup and Jell-O in her hands. She couldn’t feel the containers.

“Υοu’re not yourself,” Billy said. “You haven’t been for a long time. How could you be after...You had a terrible head injury.”

Sonnie went slowly into Billy’s room. She set down the soup and Jell-O and shut the door.

“Oh, Sonnie,” Billy said. “Family sticks together. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Ηοw? How did you know? Because I’m docile, but not quite right? A few sandwiches short of a picnic? Stuck in blond gear? And you can program me to do and say whatever you want?”

Billy’s face twisted. “I’m in pain.”

“Yes, so Ι see.” Sonnie looked from her sister’s face to her casted foot. “Better get your weight off that.” Gently, but firmly, she caught Billy by the arms and pushed, just a little.

“Sonnie!” Billy’s eyes opened wide. With a thump she sat in the chair again. “What are you doing? You could do damage, you crazy bitch.”

“Crazy?” The room was too hot. “I’m crazy? Well, sister dear, you haven’t seen crazy yet. You ought to know better than to pick on someone with two good arms and two more or less good feet when you aren’t doing so well yourself.”

“Sonnie—”

“Keep your voice down. Someone might think
you’re
crazy and decide
you
need a quiet room somewhere. Somewhere you can be taken really good care of. For your own good.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t, because I’m crazy. I need to be restrained. I need to be protected from myself. Maybe we can share one of those quiet rooms in Dr. Jim’s discreet establishment. Think of it”—she leaned over to grasp the arms of the chair and put her nose within an inch of Billy’s—“all those lovely summer days. Side by side beneath the trees in our wheelchairs. Chattering about old times—until we can’t remember old times anymore.”

“You are nuts,” Billy whispered.

Sonnie laughed. “Told you. Glad you believe me.”

“I’m going to scream.”

“Be my guest. You invited me in here. Yes, why don’t you scream? When someone comes I’ll tell them you’ve lost it. I tried to calm you down, but you obviously need psychiatric help.”

“Stop it.” Billy let out a shuddering sob. She cried, dragging in hoarse little breaths. “All the toes on my right foot are broken. And lots of other little bones. It hurts, Sonnie. Don’t be cruel. Get me out of here. Make them believe I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Can’t do that. Sorry.”

“Sonnie! It hurts so much. And I don’t even know how it happened.”

Your foot got stomped on in the car.
“Oh, I’m sure it does hurt. It probably always will. Especially when it rains. Some people think that’s an old wives’ tale—about injuries aching when the weather’s damp. It isn’t. It’s true. You’ll probably develop arthritis in time.”

Billy cried louder…She pulled her head as far away from Sonnie as she could. “You’re just trying to get your own back. Well, all I’ve got is an injured foot. At least my face isn’t ruined.”

“No, it isn’t,” Sonnie said softly, “but behind your face, inside your head is ruined, isn’t it? It’s rotten in there. Disgusting.”

“Go away.”

“Isn’t it? Answer me.”

“No one’s going to believe anything you say after this,” Billy said.

“Really?” Sonnie laughed and it felt good. She grabbed a handful of tissues, crammed them into Billy’s right hand, and pushed it to her mouth. “Your nose is running. It looks sickening.”

“Help,” Billy said, but scarcely made a sound. “Help me, someone.”

Sonnie straightened. She picked up the cartons of Jell-O and soup and went to the door. “It’s too bad they can’t cast broken toes. They just have to heal on their own, and you hope they aren’t too crooked afterward. Best to stay away from nail polish. It only draws attention you don’t want. It’s a real nuisance having to buy sensible shoes and give up heels or anything cute. They make some really good orthopedic insoles, though. Just because you have to wear boring shoes, it doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun with them. Buy cute shoelaces. Silver, maybe. Or the ones that look like neon telephone cords. Those are a great idea, especially when the foot swells. They stretch.” She maneuvered the door open, and left it open.

The feeling of triumph was too short-lived. She longed to lie down and sleep—and forget. She heard Billy crying, but felt nothing.

The amazing Mr. Talon leaned against his pillows and glared. But when he saw Sonnie, his expression changed to one of cheerful stoicism. Despite the cast that enclosed his left leg from hip to toe, dressings that covered sutures in more places than Sonnie had so far counted, a banged-up face, and bandages on his knuckles thick enough to resemble mittens, he contrived to look dashing. A white sheet across his lap shielded the essentials. Everything else was muscular and bare—including his tattoo. The nursing staff was already commenting on that tattoo—and finding excuses to check on “the hunk.”

“You okay?” he said. “You look…angry?”

“Let it go, please.”

He frowned, but said, “Okay. They haven’t let Billy go, have they?”

She would like to forget Billy—for good. “No.”

“That black outfit she’s wearing. Is it sweats?”

“Yes. Please, Chris, don’t get worked up. All this can wait for a bit, can’t it?”

He shook his head. “Gotta tell someone to check her pockets. Dust and little white rocks in there. They match ones at the club—on the walkways. They were in your foyer. Nothing like them in your gardens. She used them to throw at the chandelier and make it move and clink.”

Sonnie realized what he was telling her. “Billy,” she said. “Poor, mixed-up Billy.”

She did her best not to look at anything but his face. She also did her best not to feel what she felt anyway: a longing to touch as much of him as his injuries allowed, to kiss all those places.

“I don’t want you to pity me,” he said, “but they did do an open reduction on my knee. I’ve got pins in there, y’know.”

“You’re quoting a doctor.”

“Yup. Thought it sounded worthy of a lot of sympathy.”

One moment she was convinced she must try to at least help Frank get back on track before she left him; the next she couldn’t imagine doing anything but staying at Chris’s side—forever.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong, Sonnie?”

She evaded the question. “I don’t want
to hear any complaints about what I’ve brought you. I was stopped when I came on the floor and told this would be what you’d eat. The soup’s cold and the Jell-O’s melted. Tough. You don’t get any choices and Ι can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh.” He managed to push his hair back with the fingertips of his right hand. “I guess that’s what I’ll eat then.”

She put the cups on his bed tray and pulled a chair near the bed. “The police must have given orders for Billy to be detained at the hospital.” If she ought to feel guilty for what she’d just done to her sister, it wasn’t happening. “She’s got a badly injured foot, but that’s no reason to keep her here. Romano’s also here, and Jim. And Cory Bledsoe.

“They’ve decided they can control things here, and the hospital is going along. The only player they haven’t dredged up is Ena. Annette Roberts. But they’re hunting for her.

“Do you suppose all this means they think they know what’s been going on?”

“That would be my guess,” Chris said. “They know about the attic at your place now. Would you close the door, please?” Sonnie felt uncertain, but she did as he asked.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” he said, and rolled the tray as far away as he could.

“Υou saved me, Chris.”

“So you’ve already told me. I’d do it again. Anytime.”

“The cost was too high. You’re suffering too much.”

“I’ll be hopping around on crutches in no time.”

“I just got a pretty direct warning.” This seemed like a way for her to broach a subject that couldn’t be ignored. “I was told I’d lose friends if I did anything to hurt you.”

“Would you kiss me?” Chris said. “I think I really need you to kiss me now.”

She closed her eyes and tried to be very calm. He knew what they needed to talk about. Avoidance wouldn’t change reality.

“Sonnie, don’t do this to me. Come to me. Let me feel you.”

He’d come close to being killed for her because he loved her. And she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t die if he stopped loving her. Barely able to see through a haze of tears, she went to him and, very gingerly, kissed him. But if she’d had any plans to withdraw, she could forget them. Dressings or no dressings, he held the back of her head and kissed her. The man was a wizard with his mouth. If they gave out awards for killer kisses, Chris Talon would win first place, hands down.

He slid his fingertips down her arms until he could hold her hands. His eyes were pure green now. “I’m not giving up on you. Not ever. I don’t care if you decide you’ve got to be Frank Giacano’s support group—that you’ve got to stand by him. That’s the kind of thing I expect from you. But I will be there, darlin’. I will be a shout away at all times.”

“I can’t live without you.” She couldn’t close her mouth when she finished. The words had tumbled out—a small but powerful torrent beyond her control. “I can’t,” she whispered.

Chris brought first one, then her other hand to his lips. “I’m not going to live without you,” he said. “But I’m not blasé enough to believe we can have what we’ve already had again until you make peace with it. Does Frank want to work it out?”

“He said he did. He said he wanted to start another pregnancy as soon as possible.”

Chris felt instantly enraged. He breathed in through his mouth.

“But he hasn’t changed, Chris. And the things he said—how would he know about you? He does, in detail. And when I told him the baby had died, he cried as if it was a new shock; then he said he’d read all about it in a newspaper clipping.”

Chris pressed his lips together.

Sonnie said, “He’s the same as he always was. And he sent me on that drive with Billy. He ordered me to go with her. I think he knew something about what was going to happen.”

“What do you think their plan was?”

“To put me in a sanitarium and keep me drugged. My parents would have been brought in, and of course they’d have agreed that Frank needed access to my trust to cover my expenses. Frank and Romano separately planned to use me for their own gain. Romano had no idea what Frank was up to, but I think they’re both in big trouble and they’d do anything to dig their way out. And my sister is as involved as they are.” She could no longer pretend otherwise.

Chris thought she was close to the truth about Frank and Romano. He wouldn’t push her on the subject of Billy, but he was glad they both realized she was as guilty as hell. “Detective Whittle is in charge here. He’s a good man, straight. He told me they’re suspicious about how Frank was able to slip his captors after almost nine months and just walk away. Frank says he was in Europe with these goons, but there’s no record of his coming back into the States. And he’s got an answer for anything they throw at him, every little detail. They also think he arranged for an anonymous tip to break in media-land because the press and TV started to arrive in Key West late this afternoon. Truman Avenue looks like the who’s who of ‘Inquiring minds want to know.’ We don’t believe that happened accidentally.”

Her sad and tired face caused him to wish he’d kept the last bit to himself. She had to know what kind of publicity hound she’d married.

The ferocity with which she slapped her hands over her ears caught him off guard. And it scared the hell out of him. He didn’t say a word, but figured he’d wait until she was ready to share whatever had upset her.

“My foot,” she said, and her face contorted. She sat on the chair, pulled her right ankle across her left knee, and held her sandaled foot as if it were freshly wounded. “In the Volvo. Just like with Billy. Someone stamped on my foot to keep it on the pedal—to make me give the car more gas. And when Romano drove me at that wall the other night, he said something about doing that—that I should do it to him, I think.

“It wasn’t an accident I hit that wall. I couldn’t have done anything to stop it. He stamped on my foot and turned the wheel. He turned the car toward the wall.”

Any color she’d had fled her face.

“Take it easy,” he told her. “Just let it come.”

“That’s why I went to Key West again, isn’t it? Because I knew I had to find out what really happened to me. I don’t panic easily, Chris. Nothing I was told made any sense, but who would listen to a woman who couldn’t remember the truth?”

“Who was
he,
Sonnie?” Chris asked as quietly as he could.

“I don’t...Well, I don’t know. They said I was alone in the car.” She glanced downward. “We were alone, Jacqueline and I.”

“But someone slammed your foot on the accelerator. Unless he wanted to die, he’d have to jump clear, wouldn’t he? And to do that he’d have to be fit, really fit. His timing would have to be either perfect or instinctive.”

“We were alone,” she said, and shook her head. “No, we weren’t. Pain, so much pain in my foot—and my ankle. I undid my belt. Then I hit the side of my head here”—she touched her right temple, then her jaw—and here. And I couldn’t stay then.”