Severed Threads (34 page)

Rachel swallowed hard. Disclosing the fact that all their records were now at the bottom of the ocean would be the right thing to do. The only sensible thing to do. Still, even in her own mind, the account sounded preposterous and extremely convenient. “Just out of curiosity, did Mr. Rodriguez provide you with a description or name of the piece in question?”

“
He wasn’t real clear, but I believe it was a dragon.”

The
Wanli
immediately came to mind. “Then I assure you, Lieutenant, our documents are in complete order. The only dragon in these waters is a four hundred-year-old ship that I’m sure everyone’s going to be hearing about.”

Lieutenant Phillips came to his feet smiling. “Well, congratulations, Miss Lyons. We heard rumors but it’s nice to know Sam’s prediction finally came true.”

“
You knew my father?”

“
Oh, sure. We’d run into him occasionally out here. He was always boasting about finding his treasure ship one day.”

She smiled and looked around for Ian. He was still huddled near the rail, deep in conversation with Wade. The stolen looks over their shoulders convinced her that Blaine had already revealed her part in the fiasco. She cringed realizing she’d foolishly put all their lives at risk.

Should I tell the Lieutenant about Devon’s kidnapping?
Nothing was said about not
involving the Coast Guard.

“
And Miss Lyons,” the Lieutenant continued, “stop by the hospital and get yourself looked at, okay?”

“
All right. Thank you.” Rachel pushed herself upright and drew the towel around her frame. She glanced out at the waves rolling in the distance then looked back at the Lieutenant, just as Petty Officer Nelson returned with a note in her hand.

“
Sir, two issues have just been brought to my attention,” she told him. “It seems Red Star Charters is dropping chum again. We’re getting complaints from dive boats in Scoria Bay.”

“
Get ahold of Commander Harris,” he instructed. ”Those guys are complete idiots. He’ll shut them down once and for all. Now, what was the other matter?”

“
We also received a radio dispatch from a gentleman who claims Miss Lyons works for him. Apparently the San Palo sheriff’s office has been trying to reach her all morning in regard to her brother Devon. There was an altercation involving a shooting and he was admitted to San Palo General with a severe wound.”

Rachel felt the air siphon from her lungs, her heart leap into her throat.
Oh, my God.
Devon!
Her shaking knees buckled, dropping her to the deck.

The Lieutenant rushed over and leaned down. “Miss Lyons…Miss Lyons, are you all right?”

Twenty-Nine

Rachel looked up at the San Palo General Hospital sign, confused as to why she’d been brought here in the back of an ambulance.

“
I’ll take her from here,” Wade told the driver. Without waiting for a response, he assumed control of her wheelchair and waved the man on his way. The taillights were barely out of the driveway when Rachel came to her feet. She pinned the towel she’d been given around her waist with one hand to shield her bathing suit. At the end of her other arm, she clutched her black duffle bag.

“
I need to find my brother,” she insisted.

“
Down,” Wade growled. He pushed her back into the chair, forcing her to sit.

“
This is ridiculous,” she grumbled. “I’m fully capable of walking.”

He chuckled humorously. “That’s why you collapsed on the boat and passed out.”

“
I was a little dizzy, but I’m all right now.”

He set the bag on her lap and stepped behind the wheelchair. “Like it or not, you’re getting checked out.” He steered them through the hospital’s rear emergency entrance and into a room filled with waiting patients.

“
There should be a doctor with you shortly,” came from a woman passing by with a clipboard in her hand. She repeated the same words to everyone in the room.

Rachel looked around, scanning strange faces, searching for any sign of Devon. “Can you ask where we can find Devon?”

“
We’re here about you. After we get you taken care of, I’ll find out where they’ve got him stowed.”

His answer wasn’t good enough. She needed to know if her brother was critical…if he was going to survive his wound. “Wade, I need to see him right now.”

He padded her arm. “Calm down. Let me ask, okay?” He was gone for a few minutes then returned, still looking solemn. “I couldn’t get any information, not being the next of kin and all, but one of the nurses told me he’d most likely be in surgery or in recovery on the fourth floor.”

Rachel looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Wade…”

“
Okay, okay. But you’re not moving an inch unless I take you there.”

She agreed and he directed them through the door. As they waited for the elevator, the smell of chemicals, deodorizers and disinfectant in the hallway assaulted her senses, churning her stomach once more. The doors parted and closed several times, allowing passengers to crowd into the packed elevator.

She glanced up past her shoulder. “How do we know where to look?”

Wade leaned down and whispered near her ear. “Trust me. I’ll find him.”

When they reached the fourth floor, an elderly man came to their aid, holding the door open wide. Wade veered around him and curved around a few corners before coming to an abrupt stop in front of a reception desk. No one was there. The medical clerk’s chair was empty.

Rachel felt the weight of Wade’s hand on her shoulder. “Stay put. I’ll get someone,” he said.

She sighed as he approached two conferring doctors. From the stale look of their faces, she was the least of their concerns. As she continued to wait, she glimpsed a white-sheeted gurney along the far end of the wall and recalled her last visit to San Palo General Hospital. She’d come here to meet with Dr. Walters, the morgue coroner. She listened to his inane explanation of her father’s death and stood back waiting for the sheet to be lifted. Chills ran up and down her arms. She held her breath, imagining the worst, and looked down at her father’s fine chiseled face. But he was difficult to look at. It wasn’t the man she knew and loved. His eyes bulged out slightly from his bloated face, conjuring up thoughts of a surreal, scary mask. She willed herself to remain calm – to appear subdued and unaffected. She’d been brought there to witness something. But what was it? An opportunity to heighten her sensibility about life and death? To somehow engage her critical, emotive and human response and to act on that outrage?

She blew out a shaky breath and glanced to her right. A stout middle-aged woman had returned to the desk to resume her authoritative position. She rolled forward in her executive chair, mumbled a few incoherent words then collected the pen from the top of her ear.

Rachel glanced around. Wade was nowhere in sight. She spotted a restroom sign a few yards away. She pushed herself out of the chair and scurried barefoot across the floor with her bag in tow. Once inside, she locked the door and dropped her towel. She changed out of her Speedo and into a pair of jeans, flip-flops and a blue fuzzy sweater. She splashed cold water on her face and found a brush stashed in the bag’s outer pocket. After a half dozen long strokes, her hair was restored to a presentable state.

She rolled her suit up and was about to tuck it into her duffle bag when she spotted the corner of a white towel peeking out from under her windbreaker. She dumped her clothes and shoes onto the floor and was astounded to find Mai Le’s box hidden among them. Taped to the top was a scribbled note from Blaine.

Let me know what Doc says.

Rachel shoved everything into her bag and zipped it up. She unlocked the bathroom door and wandered back into the hospital’s corridor. The wheelchair she’d vacated was now nowhere in sight and neither was Wade.

Still anxious to find her brother, she approached the island counter and addressed the medical clerk’s down-turned head. “Excuse me…”

"Yes, I’m listening,” she answered.

“
I was told that my brother Devon Lyons might be here.”

"He’s consulting with Dr. Canzler."

"I’m sorry. Who was that?"

"No. He’s a general practitioner at the Roberts Street Clinic."

She was stumped by the clerk’s strange response until she realized the woman had been speaking into the tiny headset attached to her ear. Rachel cheeks warmed. She tucked a long brown strand behind her ear and adjusted her hold on the bag.

"Is there something I can do for you?" A young nurse’s voice came from behind. Her shiny blonde hair was perfectly coifed in a bun. Her light brown eyes sparkled with interest.

"I couldn’t help overhearing you," she explained calmly. "We haven’t officially met but I’m Judi Swift. I feel like I already know you. My next-door neighbor Mrs. Van Dozer is on the seventh floor having a procedure.”

“
I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“
Just a little nip and tuck. She’s being very hush-hush this time…wants everyone to believe she’s lost weight. She’s never been shy about her fake boobs and Botox injections, so I don’t get what the big deal is.” She snickered then drew closer. “I’m totally convinced she’s been shooting up her lips too. Have you noticed how’s she’s beginning to look like a bad Jessica Rabbit? But then it could be those
amazing
makeup tricks she’s using.”

Rachel found herself giggling. Judi’s humor was truly a dose of good medicine. Although Megan was the butt of most of her jokes, with most of the rich betties in town equally obsessed with their looks, the fun-loving nurse could accumulate enough material to headline at the local comedy club.

“
Devon Lyons?” Rachel reminded her.

“
Oh, yeah...your brother.” She pulled Rachel aside and spoke in a hushed tone. “The basket case behind the counter had a regular meltdown last night. She got all bent out of shape when he refused to supply an emergency contact. Security got called in and she ended up claiming he’d verbally assaulted her.”

Rachel glanced away, shaking her head. It was a good thing the clerk had been too busy to answer her question. Her reaction would have been anything but pleasant.

“
Soon as he was treated for the bullet wound in his hand, he up and left. Doctor Rosenstein was totally pissed.” Judi rolled her eyes. “Anyway, no big deal. That guy’s a complete asshole. Even the seventy-year-old orderly hates him…and Melvin loves everyone.”

Rachel cringed. Although Devon had left a virtual storm in his wake, one question still remained. “Was my brother alone when he arrived?”

“
Nope, and that’s one man I’ll
never
forget. Dark, long braids, black leather jacket. Soft-spoken mysterious type. Sort of looked like that character in
The Matrix
. You know what I mean?”

Rachel drew in her lips and nodded. Unfortunately she did.

“
Anyway, they had this heated argument and as soon as the guy’s back was turned, your brother took off.”

Great.
“Did he leave a clue as to where he might be headed?”

Judi pursed her lips as if weighing her options. “Not exactly. When I mentioned he’d lost a lot of blood and needed to take it easy, he smiled and said something about getting a transfusion. I assumed he meant the local bar.”

Are you kidding?
While he was off drowning his sorrows, she could have been eaten alive. So much for brotherly love.

“
Oh, and Miss Lyons…Mrs. Van Dozer tells me you’ve been working with Chase Cohen. I just saw him walk by a few minutes ago. He’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he? All the women on this floor practically wilt every time he shows up.”