Mark Taylor: Genesis (Prequel in the Mark Taylor Series) (15 page)

Jessica smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

The grin slipped a little when their eyes met and held. She dipped her head and he swore her cheeks pinked. Did they still have a connection? He felt it, but if she had, she didn’t let it show as she pushed off the sill, smoothing her blouse and tucking a little fabric into the waistband. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get some rest. You’re looking a little pale.”

Her comment about his lack of color killed any fantasy that she had felt anything other than maybe a passing worry that he might pass out any instant. “I’m fine, but I hope I cleared up any questions you had,
Detective
.”

“
Detective
? Reverting to formality?”

“It seems appropriate.”

She paused as she turned toward the door. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mark. I’m just trying to do my job.”

He nodded.

“If I think of anything more, I’ll be in touch.” She raised an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth turned up. “Or if you decide you know something you haven’t mentioned, feel free to contact me.”

It was hard to stay angry when she looked at him like that and he felt a grin tugging at his mouth.

After Jessica left, Mark took a few bites of his lunch and then rested, not awakening until mid-afternoon when his parents came by to visit. He was glad they had missed the detective’s visit. All his parents knew was that he had been caught in a drive-by shooting. The doctors hadn’t known all the details, and as far as Mark was aware, the police hadn’t said anything to his parents, as his folks had nothing to do with the shooting. He was sure his father would have grilled him in front of Jessica if he had been present.

His mom leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Hey, hon. How are you feeling?”

Finding the bed controls, Mark raised the head until he was sitting almost straight up. “Great.” The rest had restored his energy. He gingerly moved to sit on the side of the bed. “I feel like taking a walk. You guys want to come?”

His father nodded, but added, “You two go ahead. I saw your doctor out at the desk and I wanted to ask him a few things.”

Mark didn’t have a good reason to object, but part of him resented his father grilling the doc about his care. As far as he was concerned, the surgeon had performed a miracle in saving both his life and his leg. “Dad, don’t piss off my doctor by questioning everything. You know he did a fantastic job.”

His dad’s eyes widened as he spread his hand over his chest. “I’m not going to question him. I’m just going to suggest a few things he might want to consider in the future when he’s presented a case like yours. You know I interned at Cook County, right? You don’t spend time there and not learn about gunshot wounds.”

His mother gave his dad one of her looks. Even though she spoke in a calm tone, she was annoyed. “Gene, you have trotted out that tidbit of information at least a dozen times since we’ve been here. Mark’s doctor is a busy man—just like you are when you’re making your patient rounds.” The annoyance melted and she smiled and brushed her hand across his father’s hand, twining her fingers in his. “Come walk with us.”

Although he appeared torn, Mark’s dad finally nodded. “Fine, but I’m going to speak to him before Mark is discharged.” He turned to Mark and asked, “By the way, have they told you when that would be?” Before Mark could reply, his father said, “I should find the doc and ask how Mark’s labs are and if his white count is still up. If it isn’t, a course of oral antibiotics would be appropriate.”

 Mark rolled his eyes. “Look, Dad, my doctor is doing a fine job. I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of it.” He leaned forward and snagged the cane from where he had propped it against the bedside table. As he positioned it to stand, he caught his dad’s stunned expression. He hadn’t intended to hurt his dad’s feelings. Guilt heated his face. “Sorry, Dad. It’s just that I can take care of my own health.” In the process of standing, Mark couldn’t speak for a moment and stood, catching his breath and waiting for the wave of pain to pass. As he became accustomed to it, he finally let out the breath. He opened his mouth to thank his dad for the concern, but before he could, his dad spoke.

His arms crossed and his face was hard as stone, he said, “Really? So you’re on top of everything?”

On top of everything? What the hell was he talking about? Why did he always have to use that tone? The tone that said Mark was an idiot.

“Yeah. I think I am. The doctor said I’m making a remarkable recovery so I don’t need you butting in. I can take care of myself.”

“I have to wonder about that. You seem to make a lot of bad choices.”

“Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He straightened as much as he could.

His dad swept a hand towards the cane. “You chose to take pictures in a gang infested neighborhood. Did you really think that was a good idea?”

Jaw clenched, Mark fought the impulse to give up his secret. His dad wouldn’t understand. Prophetic dreams? Yeah, right. He wasn’t going to open himself up to that ridicule. Even with the photos, his dad would scoff in disbelief and probably accuse him of manipulating the photo on his computer. If by some wild chance he believed everything, he’d advise Mark to turn the camera over to the police and then suggest that if he wanted to play at being a superhero, he should have become a doctor—like him.

Tension thickened the air as he locked eyes with his father.

His mom cleared her throat and moved to retrieve a bag off a chair beside the bed. “I almost forgot, Mark. I brought you the clothes you asked for plus I included a pair of sweatpants. They should fit over the bandage.”

Mark tore his attention from his dad and attempted to smile to show his appreciation. “Thanks, Mom. That’s great. In fact, if you help me get them over my foot, I’d like to wear them now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Mark limped across the loft and fished the phone out of the sofa cushions. The sound of the ringing had been so muffled, he wasn’t sure what it was at first.

“Hello?”

He hadn’t had time to look at the caller ID before picking up as it had taken him about five rings to answer and voicemail would pick up before the sixth.

“Hello, Mark? This is Jessica Bishop…Detective Bishop.”

He smiled at the clarification, as if he knew some other Jessica Bishop. “Hello, Detective.  Sorry I never called you back, but I couldn’t think of anything new to add to what I had already told you.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I was calling about. I was just wondering how you were doing.”

A warm glow of pleasure sparked in his chest. “I’m doing great. I even ditched the cane a few days ago.”

“That’s wonderful. Glad to hear it. Do you have to go to physical therapy or anything?”

Mark eased down onto the sofa, bringing his injured leg up, trying to bite back the grunt of discomfort the action caused. “Yeah, I go every other day.”

“I see…”

An awkward silence followed and Mark wracked his mind for something to say to fill it. “Hey, I never heard back about that undercover cop. Is he still going to press charges against me?” The worry had nagged at him ever since she had mentioned it when she had been at the hospital.

There was a pause and Mark held his breath, awaiting the worst.

“No…I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anything since right after you were shot. I think he was just frustrated. I honestly don’t think he had a case against you anyway. You didn’t break any laws since you were on a public sidewalk, and in spite of what you told me before, we couldn’t find any proof that you intentionally blew his cover.”

“No, I didn’t. I just wanted to save his life.”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well that opens another can of worms that I don’t care to deal with right now. We’re going to say you made a lucky guess, okay?”

Mark grinned. He could handle that. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Great. Did you get your car back okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for the help on that. It cost me a few hundred, but the Chicago PD waived the parking tickets. I had to pay for the towing and storage though. My parents picked it up for me.”

“Great. Are they there helping you?”

“They were, but they went home yesterday. My father had some patients he really needed to see this week.”

“Ah, so he’s a physician?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, um, do you need anything? It must be hard getting around right now.”

His mother had stocked his fridge and cupboards, so he didn’t need anything, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity. “Well, actually, there is one thing I could use.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Toothpaste.” Mark closed his eyes and shook his head. It had been the first thing to come to his mind and he had just blurted it out. He had a whole tube of the stuff in the bathroom, but now she was going to think he was sitting here with plaque-coated teeth.

She laughed. “Toothpaste? Any particular brand?”

“No, just something minty.” As if ninety-nine percent of them weren’t minty. Another brilliant answer. He was on a roll.

“Okay. One tube of minty toothpaste. Got it. I hope this isn’t a toothpaste emergency or anything, because I just remembered I have to run by my sister’s house tonight, but I’m off tomorrow, so I could come by about mid-morning.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ll…I’ll just give the tube I have another squeeze up from the bottom. I’m sure there’s enough to get by.” He didn’t want her to think he was skipping on brushing or anything. He gave her his address and told her to buzz and to give him a little time to get to the buzzer.

After hanging up, he almost did a jig — he would have if he had been able to. Instead, he made do with a fist pump.

Mark leaned on the refrigerator door searching for something he could offer Jessica when she arrived. Milk. No. Beer. Nope, it was too early and it didn’t feel right. Orange juice? Nah. Well, he could offer it as a last resort, but it wasn’t something someone sat around sipping.  Ah! Pay dirt. A small pitcher of iced tea hid behind the gallon of milk.  His mom loved the stuff and must have made it before they left. He wasn’t much of an iced tea drinker, but he was glad to have it on hand. He slid open the lunch meat drawer. Turkey and pastrami.  He spotted some bagged greens in the bottom drawer. He didn’t know why he was wondering about all this. It wasn’t like she mentioned staying for lunch. In all likelihood, she would drop off the toothpaste and leave.

When the buzzer sounded a little before eleven, he let her into the building then ran a hand through his hair. Sheesh. It wasn’t like he had never spoken to a woman before and he was ready to evict the butterflies in his stomach. At the tentative knock, he made himself pause a few seconds before opening the door so she wouldn’t think he had been standing right by it waiting for her.

As soon as he opened the door, she tilted a box of toothpaste towards him. “One tube of minty toothpaste.” The corners of her mouth tilted up and her eyes sparkled.

Mark took the tube and swept his hand out. “Thank you. Come on in.”

Jessica glanced around after stepping in. “Nice place. I like the wood and brick accents.”

“Thanks. It’s one of those converted warehouses. My studio is on the first floor, but sometimes I do shoots right up here because of the great lighting.” He gestured to the large arched windows. “I just shove the sofa out of the way and I can use the brick as a backdrop.” He was rambling and shut his mouth before he made a fool of himself.

“I see.” She stood, her weight shifting from one foot to the next.

“Speaking of the sofa, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Iced tea? Water? Orange juice?”

She started to sit, but then straightened. “Iced tea sounds good, but let me get it myself. You’re the injured one. I should be waiting on you.”

Mark waved her back. “No, I’m fine. I need to work my leg as much as I can. Besides, I’ve had enough of people waiting on me. It’s not nearly as appealing as it sounds.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess that can get old fast, but at least let me help.” She followed him as he limped into the kitchen. “When I saw your wound, I would not have expected you to be up and around, doing this well this soon. You’re tougher than you look.”