LS02 - Lightning Lingers (2 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: LS02 - Lightning Lingers
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"I don't have time to explain. There's so much you don't know. It's too late to bring you into it. You can't help me, but you can help Mom. It's on you now, Katherine. She can't stay alone anymore. She's gotten much worse the past few weeks. I've set up round-the-clock caregivers to take care of her for the next two weeks, then it's your job to figure something out."

"Wait," she said, suddenly panicked that he was about to hang up. "Let me help you, TJ. Whatever is wrong, we can go to the police. If you're in danger, they can protect you."

"No one can protect me. They're too powerful, Katherine. And there's no one I can trust. Hell, I don't even know if I can trust you."

Another shiver ran down her spine and the sense of foreboding she'd felt earlier returned. "Of course you can trust me; I'm your sister. Tell me where you are. I'll come to you."

"I won't be here after I throw this phone away. And you can't come after me. They'll be watching you. If you book a flight to Mexico, they'll know I spoke to you. You'll be in danger."

"Mexico?" she echoed in surprise. "What the hell are you doing in Mexico?"

"I was asking myself that question until a few minutes ago. The less you know the better. I'll call you again—if I can. But if you don't hear from me, take care of Mom—"

"Stop," she said, cutting him off. "Tell me where you're headed now."

"I'm not entirely sure."

"You must have some idea."

"I need to disappear. The cities are too dangerous. I'm going to see if I can find the village where the world is stuck in time, where people linger in a civilization that died hundreds of years ago."

His words ignited an old memory in her mind. "Are you talking about where Jake's great-grandmother lives?"

"Maybe if I can turn back time, I can find my way back to who I'm supposed to be."

She'd always thought her brother was a little on the dramatic side, but she could hear the fear in his voice. "TJ, please, tell me where you are right now. I'll meet you. I can fix this."

"Not even you can fix this, Katherine. Just take care of Mom and if she's lucid, tell her I love her. Good-bye, Katherine."

Her stomach churned. "This isn't good-bye, TJ. We're going to see each other again."

"I hope so. Don't tell anyone I called, Katherine. Promise me."

"TJ—"

"Just promise."

"I promise." She'd barely gotten the words out when the dial tone buzzed in her ear.

Her hand shook as she stared down at the phone. She hit redial, but the call didn't go through.

What should she do?

She wanted to start making calls, but he'd just told her not to tell anyone. Was she really going to do the one thing he'd made her promise not to do?

But she couldn't do nothing
.

Her father was dead. Her mother was suffering from dementia. TJ was all she had left of her once vibrant family, and she was the only one who could help him.

But how?

No immediate answer came to mind, but one thing was clear; she couldn't solve the problem from Houston. She needed to go home, see her mom, and then figure out how to find her brother.

* * *

 

After stopping at home to pack an overnight bag and fill a thermos with coffee, Katherine made the four-hour drive from Houston to Corpus Christi. She'd been wondering what she would do with her first day off in years, and it definitely hadn't been this. She had planned to go home, of course, but in a few days—when she'd had time to sleep and consider her job opportunities.

Guilt ran through her at the selfishness of that thought. She'd let TJ carry the burden of her mom's illness since her father had died a year ago. She'd told herself she'd make it up to him and to her mom when she was done with her residency, when she had more time and more money to help make their lives easier. They'd both told her they understood, but that didn't necessarily make it right.

Well, she couldn't change the past, but she could start being a better daughter and sister today.

It was seven a.m. when she arrived in the modest neighborhood of single-family homes, where she'd lived from age thirteen to eighteen. They'd moved to Corpus Christi when her father, Ron Barrett, had become an English professor at Texas A&M. It had been a good move for him and for her, Katherine thought. After Hailey's death, it had been horribly painful to walk by her best friend's house every day on her way to school.

She pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. As she looked at the house, she felt a mix of emotions. This house had once been the centerpiece of her happy family. Her dad had been a gregarious man who'd always welcomed his colleagues and grad students into his home. Her mother, Debbie, had been a stay-at-home mom, and she'd been involved in everything her children did from soccer to horseback riding and science fairs. Katherine had taken it all for granted. She'd always expected her parents to be here in this house when she came home.

Unfortunately, her father had suffered a fatal heart attack a year ago and without warning he was gone. Shortly thereafter, her mother had had a mini-stroke, the beginning of what had been a mental slide into dementia. Her father was too young to be deceased, and her mother was too young to be losing her mind, but as Katherine had learned the past few years, illness and injury could strike anyone at any time.

Grabbing her overnight bag, she got out of the car and walked across the lawn. When she stepped onto the porch, she was assailed with more memories from the past. The porch swing with its now-faded cushions and rusty iron chains had been her favorite place to read, and she'd always been a big reader. How could she not be with a father who was an English teacher?

Her gaze moved to the boxed planters that had always held a colorful array of flowers but were now nothing more than boxes of dirt. The house needed a new coat of paint and the porch light was holding on by one thin wire. Looking up at that light, she remembered its brightness. Her dad had made sure the porch was well lit, especially when his daughter was coming home with her boyfriend.

Jake had complained that he felt like he was kissing her under a spotlight. Not that that had slowed him down. She sucked in a breath, not surprised that Jake would find his way into her memories. He was one of the reasons she didn't come home as often as she probably should.

She inserted her key into the lock and opened the front door, knowing there would be more memories inside, but not as many of Jake.

When she walked into the living room, the clutter shocked her. TJ had told her that their mother lost track of every project she began, leaving chaos behind her every step.

Katherine had thought he'd exaggerated, but clearly he hadn't. What had once been a neat and tidy living room was now a disorganized mess of books, magazines, knitting projects, and half-drunk coffee mugs and water bottles. The coffee table was overflowing with sales catalogs, and the couch and chairs held numerous articles of clothing from jackets to sweaters to shirts and jeans.

"Mom?" she called.

There was no answer despite the fact that every light in the living room was on, but she did hear the sound of the television coming from the combination kitchen/family room, so she headed down the hall.

Her mother, Debbie Barrett, was snoozing on the couch in her nightgown and robe. She was half-sitting, half-lying against the cushions while the television blared an infomercial on some new miracle skin care cream.

As Katherine moved closer, she could see how thin her mother had gotten. She must have shed at least fifteen pounds in the past year. Her once thick and beautiful blonde hair had grayed, and her skin had a sallow tone to it. As she dozed in front of the television, small snores escaped from her slightly droopy open mouth.

This woman barely resembled her once vibrant mother. Debbie was only sixty-five years old, but she appeared closer to eighty now.

Had TJ told her things were this bad, or had her mother gone suddenly downhill? She certainly hadn't looked this bad when Katherine had last been home, but that was three months ago. She really should have come back sooner.

Glancing around the room, her gaze caught on the window. A middle-aged woman wearing gray slacks and a white blouse stood on the back deck. She was on the telephone and seemed completely oblivious of Katherine's presence. That must be the caregiver.

Turning back to her mother, Katherine sat down on the couch next to her. "Mom," she said quietly.

Debbie Barrett jerked at the word, her eyes flying open. She looked dazed and scared as she blinked rapidly and then sat up straight. "What?"

"It's me, Katherine," she said soothingly.

"Katherine?" her mom echoed, her gaze still bemused, but the fear slowly leaving her eyes. "Katherine," she repeated, more fully cognizant now as her eyes found their focus. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit you," she said, relieved that her mother recognized her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I don't know where all my energy has gone."

"It's early in the morning. I shouldn't have woken you."

"What time is it?"

"About seven."

Debbie pulled her robe more tightly around her body. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago."

"I don't understand. Did you tell me you were coming? Did I forget?" Her mother's brows knit together in puzzlement.

"No, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision." She debated what else she wanted to say. She didn't want to worry her mom, but it was possible her mother knew something about TJ's situation. According to her brother, there were times when Debbie was lucid, when she and TJ had coherent conversations. Whether she could remember any of those discussions was another matter. "I got a call from TJ last night," she continued. "He seemed upset. Do you know where he is?"

Debbie's gaze narrowed, and she frowned. "I think he told me. I can't remember."

"That's okay. Don't stress out," she said, seeing the frustration in her mother's eyes.

"The hats—they wear the hats." Her mom grabbed her arm. "And they take a nap in the middle of the day. What is that called?"

"A siesta?" she guessed.

"Yes," she said, clarity coming into her eyes. "Mexico. He went to Mexico for work."

That corresponded to what TJ had told her, not that she understood what her brother would be doing down there. "What kind of work would TJ do in Mexico?" she asked.

"I don't know—maybe a conference? TJ is a genius, but I don't understand what he actually does every day."

Her brother was an engineer for Mission Defense Technology, otherwise known as MDT, a huge corporate defense contractor in Corpus Christi, but Katherine didn't really know what he did on a day-to-day basis, either.

"Your hair is getting so long," Debbie murmured, tucking a stray strand of Katherine's hair behind her ear. "It reminds me of when you were a teenager."

And her mother's gentle touch, the love in her eyes, reminded Katherine of those days, too. She savored the moment, wondering how many more like this they would have.

But as much as she wanted to just spend time with her mother, TJ's desperate voice rang through her head.

"When did you last speak to TJ, Mom?"

"Last night or maybe the day before. He's always so busy. You and TJ are changing the world. I never did anything more important than change the sheets and keep the house clean. How did I get such brilliant children?"

"You did more than that, Mom. Don't sell yourself short."

"Something is wrong," her mother said abruptly. "You don't come home unless something is wrong. What is it? Is it TJ? Is that why you're asking about him?"

Considering her promise to her brother, she didn't know how to answer that question. She settled for a half-truth. "TJ told me that he's going to be out of town for a while. I came home to make sure you have enough help here. Do you like the women who are staying with you?"

"Who do you mean?" her mom asked in confusion.

Katherine tipped her head toward the window. "That woman in the yard is one of your caregivers, right?"

Debbie blinked a few times. "She looks familiar. Oh, yes, that's Margot. She's always trying to feed me." As her mother finished speaking, the woman they'd been talking about entered the room, giving Katherine a surprised look when she saw her.

"Who are you?" Margot asked abruptly.

"I'm Katherine Barrett, Debbie's daughter."

"Oh, of course, you're the doctor," the woman said, relief filling her eyes. "Sorry, you gave me a start. It's so early in the morning, and I didn't know you were coming."

"I didn't know myself until a few hours ago." She paused. "What's your name?"

"Margot Waxman. I was just about to make your mother breakfast. Would you like some?"

"That would be great," she said, her stomach rumbling at the mention of food. "But don't go to any trouble."

"It's part of the job. Are scrambled eggs all right?"

"That would be perfect. Will you be here all day, Margot?"

"No, I cover the nights. Lillian gets here at nine. We both work for the Living Angels Agency."

Katherine got up from the couch and followed Margot into the kitchen while her mother drifted off to sleep again. "Is she always so out of it?" she asked as Margot started taking ingredients out of the refrigerator.

"She's mostly asleep when I'm with her, or dozing off and on. You should ask Lillian. She's here during the day when Debbie is more alert." Margot set a carton of eggs on the counter. "I'm only here for another two weeks. Your brother said you might want to keep us on."

"I'll have to let you know after I speak to my brother."

"I hope you'll do that soon. Our schedules book up quickly, and I do like taking care of your mother," Margot said, as she put a frying pan on the stove.

"Are you a nurse, Margot?"

"No, I'm just here to help her get dressed, eat, and not burn the house down."

"Well, we appreciate your help very much."

Margot gave her a smile. "Your mother is well taken care of. Now, how do you like your eggs? Runny or well done?"

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