Listen to the Shadows (10 page)

Chapter 13

“Straw stuffed into an army uniform,” the policeman with the hard eyes and jowly cheeks said unnecessarily. He was down on one knee examining the effigy, which was laid out on the floor at the foot of the stairs.

Katie sat on the bottom step, hands folded together to keep them from shaking. She deliberately avoided looking at Jonathan, still annoyed at him for not giving her the phone, or at least identifying himself to Drake. “Does this mean the person responsible for this could be in the service?” she asked.

The policeman grunted to his feet, hitched up his pants, which stopped just short of his protruding belly. “Maybe. Maybe not.” There was an air of self importance about the man that irked her. “The uniform could have been picked up in any army surplus store,” he said, motioning to the younger policeman, who at once began working the straw form into a plastic bag and zipping it up. “Do you have friends partial to playing practical jokes?”

“No. And even if I did, this is hardly a joke, is it?”

He glanced down at the clear plastic bag, through which the blue eyes were still visible. “Well, then, I’d say we’re dealing with a first rate sicko, ma’am.” He turned to Jonathan, who was standing off a little to one side, hands thrust in his pockets. “Dr. Shea, you’re a shrin…psychiatrist. All that book learnin’ tell you anything about this guy?”

“Well, first of all we really don’t know that it is a guy, do we?”

Jonathan said. “And I really don’t think much expertise is required to deduce that whoever did it is a few bricks short of a full load.” With that, he folded his arms and fixed the slightly taken aback policeman with a steely gaze.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Katie grinned, and caught a matching grin from the blond, young officer standing quietly by, appearing to wait for his next command.

The humor of the moment fizzled as she got to her feet. “Who would want to frighten me like this?” At a wave of dizziness, she sagged back down on the step. “I can’t believe I’ve made such a terrible enemy.”

“Maybe you haven’t,” the older policeman replied, his eyes sweeping over her. “Could be someone you don’t know—a secret admirer.” There was a trace of a smirk on his face. “Anyway, we’re as much in the dark as you are at the moment, but we’ll do our job. If we come up with any answers, Miss Summers, we’ll be in touch.”

When they were gone, taking the effigy with them, Katie said, “That was rather rude of you. And not terribly professional.”

“Really? Well, I’m not my charming self these days. And I’m also no longer practicing the profession of psychiatry. Besides, I didn’t like the son-of-a-bitch.”

“What do you mean, you’re no longer practice psychiatry?” she asked, ignoring his remark about the policeman. No doubt because it reflected her own opinion of the man.

“It’s a long and boring story.” He moved toward her. “Are you thinking there was a strawman in your car that night?”

“I know there was. Whoever put it there must have been following me in their car and removed it before the police and ambulance arrived on the scene.”

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you leave here with me tonight? I’ve only got a small apartment, but there’s a spare bed. You’re welcome to stay. Or if you prefer, I’ll check you into a hotel.”

Touched at his offer, for the moment Drake’s call to her was forgotten. Frankly, she didn’t know what she would have done without

Jonathan Shea here tonight.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’ll sleep in the studio,” she said, knowing that no amount of persuasion in the world could convince her to go back upstairs tonight. Her thoughts curved back to his comment about not practicing psychiatry anymore, and she wondered if it had something to do with the young girl who had committed suicide. Though tragic, Katie couldn’t help thinking that tragedies could hardly be an uncommon occurrence in Jonathan’s line of work.

“Have you had any supper?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“No, I wasn’t hungry.”

“You’re a maddening woman, Katherine Summers,” he said, giving a sigh of exasperation. “You don’t eat. And I know you conned Dr. Miller into letting you come home far sooner than he thought wise. He was under the impression, as I was myself, that there would be someone staying with you.”

“Then I don’t know where you got that impression. I never lied to Dr. Miller. Or you.”

“No. You just conveniently hid the truth.”

Katie’s annoyance flared to anger. “I have a job to go to, Dr. Shea.” Obviously, he hadn’t lost his arrogance at all. He’d just misplaced it.

“Do you remember what I told you about there being a fine line between courage and martyrdom?” he said, as if speaking to a dull-witted child.

“I’m not one of your adoring nurses, Doctor, hanging on your every word.”

Seeing the anger leap to his eyes, Katie was more than a little pleased with herself.

“Where’s the kitchen? Never mind, I’ll find it myself.” With that, he picked her up bodily off the step and carried her into the studio, with Katie fighting him every step of the way. He stood her on her feet. “There. Now lie down.”

“You’re crazy,” she snapped, straightening her clothes.

“So you’ve said. Now I’m asking you nicely—lie down.”

“Look, I said I’m not hungry. Now I really do appreciate all…”

“Lie down,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. He leveled his gaze at her. “Or would you like a little assistance?”

She lay down on the cot, glaring up at him.

He smiled. “Good girl.” He covered her with the afghan and, as he leaned close, Katie caught the spicy scent of his aftershave mingling with a faint, darker scent that was Jonathan.

She lay still and stiff as a mannequin while his hands moved deftly over her body, pressing here, smoothing there.

“I’m not cold, for God’s sake.”

“Be quiet.”

Her muscles tensed. Did his hand linger just a little longer than necessary on the curve of her waist? Before she could decide, it had slipped lower, pausing dangerously near her thigh. She darted a look at him, but his face was impassive, revealing no hint of lecherous intent. How little she really knew about men. In particular, a man like Jonathan Shea. Where did the doctor end—and the man begin?

He tugged the edge of the afghan up over her breasts and, as he did, his fingers brushed her nipples, sending a jolt of electricity through her. To Katie’s horror, her body quivered involuntarily. Their eyes met, and she writhed inwardly. She tried to look past the thatch of black hair that had fallen over his brow, past his firm, sensuous mouth. She fought an almost overpowering impulse to reach out and draw him down to her. My God, what was wrong with her? And she knew it wasn’t Jonathan Shea she didn’t trust as much as she didn’t trust herself.

His eyes held hers in bold challenge. “Comfortable?” he asked innocently.

To her deep shame, she saw the tiniest play of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and knew that the policeman had not been the only son-of- a-bitch in the room. Jonathan had known exactly what he was doing, just as he now knew what she was feeling. And he was laughing at her.

Had he done it simply to pay her back for her remark about his ‘ adoring nurses’? To show her she wasn’t immune to his charms? Don’t you dare cry, Katie Summers! Don ’ t you dare.

“You really do have wonderful green eyes,” he said, before turning from her and leaving the room.

Katie lay there seething, and hating Jonathan Shea almost as much as she hated her own treacherous body.

It was a good half hour before he returned carrying a tray, from which wafted a familiar tomato aroma. She’d had sufficient time to regain her composure. She thanked him, realizing with some surprise that her hunger was greater than her wounded pride.

“Compliments of Campbell’s,” he said.

“I don’t think I can eat all this,” she lied, biting into a piece of buttered bread.

Again he left the room, and Katie couldn’t help noticing the way his broad shoulders strained against the soft blue knit of his sweater, or how his back tapered to narrow, taut hips. Her hatred of him, as she continued to eat, subsided just a little. She wondered idly where he was off to this time.

Her question was answered when, moments later, he returned with a blanket, and what looked to be her flannel nightgown and robe draped over his arm. He nodded approvingly at her tray, emptied of all but a few breadcrumbs.

“I knew you could eat it all if you put your mind to it.” He removed the tray from her lap, fitting it among the disarray on the table. “I think you’ll sleep more comfortably if you get out of that dress and into your night clothes.”

She hugged the afghan to her. “I’m fine.”

“No, Katherine, you’re not fine. You’ve had a stretch in the hospital, part of that time in a coma, and you’ve just had one hell of a shock. You’re not fine at all. You need a little looking after.”

Maybe she would feel better out of the dress. She hadn’t had a chance to change what with all that had happened. She thought wistfully of a hot bath.

“All right. I’ll put them on. If you’ll just step into the other room…” She certainly had no intention of changing in front of him.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, and pulled the afghan from her before she could stop him. “Get up. I’ll help you. You might pass out if you’re alone.”

“I don’t need your help,” she said more sharply than she meant to. “I mean—well, you’ve already done more than enough.” Her face flamed at her poor choice of words. “Look, I honestly do appreciate your concern, but you needn’t stay any longer. I’m sure you have things to do. And I’m not going to pass out. I’ll change as soon as you leave, I promise. You can just leave the night clothes.”

He looked at her, surprise registering on his face. “I have no intention of leaving you alone here tonight. And I don’t really think you’re up to tossing me out bodily.”

She burned at his bullying tactics. “And before you go,” she said pointedly, “I think I should tell you that I didn’t appreciate your intercepting that call from Drake. He’s a very sensitive man, and he’s been worried about me. You might at least have told him who you were.”

“Or he’ll think what?” he said, with a trace of amusement that grated on Katie. “Doesn’t he trust you? And if he’s so damned concerned about you, why isn’t he here?”

“That’s not your affair, Doctor, but if you must know, Drake would be here if he’d known I was coming home today.” In a burst of anger, she leapt to her feet. As she did, the room tilted crazily, and she would have fallen flat on her face had Jonathan not been there to catch her.

“Steady now,” he said, and held her so close she could feel the strong beat of his heart against her breasts. “Are you all right?” he asked softly after a moment.

“Yes. I—I just stood up too quickly, that’s all.” She was disturbingly aware of his warm, moist breath on her cheek, of the way his chin brushed the top of her head.

“I don’t think you’re up to doing battle just yet,” he said, his tone lightly teasing.

Outside the wind raged on, and the rain beat against the patio doors, rattling them. The storm echoed her own soaring emotions—emotions that both confused and frightened her. The room, with its crackling fire and the pale lamplight, seemed to encompass them, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

My God, you hardly know this man, she reminded herself, and tried to slip from his embrace, but he held her fast.

“Be still,” he murmured against her hair, and then she felt cool air brush her skin as the zipper at the back of her dress parted beneath his fingers, the fabric falling away, leaving her back naked to his touch. Over her feeble protests, his firm yet gentle hands moved down over her shoulders, and the dress fell to a puddle at her ankles.

Now he was undoing the hooks of her bra, and Katie knew sheer panic. “Don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t, please.”

“You’re such a child, Katherine,” he chided. “I am a doctor, after all. Do you think you’ll be the first woman I’ve seen without clothes on?”

Removing her bra, he tossed it somewhere behind her, in the same moment releasing her to reach for her nightgown. But in the instant before he did, Katie caught the unmistakable flicker of interest in his eyes.

Agonizingly aware that she was standing before him clad only in thin bikini panties, she instinctively crossed her arms over her breasts and lowered herself onto the cot, swiftly drawing the afghan up to her chin.

He handed her the nightgown.

She flashed her fury at him.

“Guess I’m not as immune as I thought,” he said matter-of-factly, a devilish grin sweeping his features. “But then, it’s been quite a few years since I’ve been in general practice.”

In a temper, Katie pulled the nightgown over her head, and when he tried to cover her with the blanket, she snatched it from him, slapping his hand away.

“It’s rude to grab.”

“I’ll cover myself.” Doctor, be damned, she thought, and wanted more than anything to puncture that inflated ego, that conceit. “Do you always chase ambulances and police cars?”

He flinched as if she’d struck him, and she at once regretted the remark, though it seemed to her to have had a greater effect on him than it should have warranted. “I’m sorry,” she said, not understanding the pain she saw in his eyes, nor, surprisingly, taking any pleasure from having put it there. “Look, you’ve been very kind, and believe me, I am grateful.” Feeling the last of her strength ebb, she lay her head back on the pillow. “But you confuse me,” she said quietly.