Solemn Oath (28 page)

Mercy rolled her eyes and shook her head. Like Josie, Loretta had been a fixture in this office for five years. Both were loyal, trusted friends.

The envelope had no return address, but Theodore's precise cursive grabbed Mercy's attention. She eased the envelope open cautiously, as if a spider might be lurking inside. She pulled out a sheet of triple-folded notebook paper, and when she unfolded it, another piece of paper fell out onto the desk. It was a cashier's check for fifty dollars.

She stared at it for a moment, then looked at the note he had written on the paper.

Mercy's fingers tightened on the paper. Okay, she was touched. Part of her wondered if this was genuine. Another part of her wanted to mail it back to him. She didn't want this kind of a connection with him, even if he never drank another drop of liquor. But this effort wasn't something the old Theodore would do. Had he truly had a change of heart?

And if she were convinced that he had, would she be able to forgive him? Logically, it was something she knew she needed to do, whether or not he had changed. Emotionally, she still felt within her a solid barrier of powerfully woven links of pain, anger, fear. What would it take to dislodge this hardened mass?

She wanted to try to do the right thing for Tedi's sake.

Still, she wasn't about to go to the trouble of opening a separate account with this little check, because it would probably be the last one she'd see from Theo.

She would hold the check and see what happened next.

 

Lukas treated the fireman for smoke inhalation and a slight concussion and released him to his family's care. Time to escape. Maybe a hike would still be possible.

He stepped out of the exam room to find Estelle Pinkley, waiting to pounce, every silver hair on her head in place, every movement genteel.

“How bad were the injuries this time?” she asked, turning to glance at the firefighters outside the front entrance, then at the ambulance attendants at the central desk.

Lukas pulled off his gloves and mask. “Not as bad as expected. We flew one cook and transported another by ambulance, both to the burn unit at St. John's. The fireman wants to go home. His family will watch him.”

She nodded soberly, then gestured for Lukas to follow her down the hallway, away from the lingering crowd. She lowered her voice. “Do you see an increase in the severity of each successive fire?”

“Not really. The first one caused a dangerous explosion that could have killed two people.”

“The first one wasn't arson. The barbecue grill ignited a box that was too close, and the investigator found a faulty valve on the grill. That fire might have been a trigger for the arsonist, though. We could be in for more major injuries, worse than this. Do we have all the supplies we might need in E.R. for a disaster?”

“We're completely stocked.”

“Good. I want to hire more staff, perhaps a float nurse, another tech, as quickly as possible. I've already asked Personnel to contact part-timers and see if they're interested in full-time for a while. We need to be prepared.” She paused and shook her head. “It's hard to catch an arsonist. To do so, one must think like him, and then get him to confess.” She straightened the hem of her suit jacket and then her already perfect posture. “I have a good conviction rate.”

“Who're you going to convict?” They walked past a wall mural of a forest trail, and Lukas wished he were there now.

“No one I'm ready to make public.” Estelle moved closer to him and lowered her voice. “I don't like the direction the evidence is pointing, and I'm not sure I trust it. That's all I can say at this point. I know whom I would
like
to be able to accuse, but it's safe to say that Bailey Little is only out to destroy the hospital, not the rest of the town.”

Lukas gave her a sympathetic nod, and she continued.

“Speaking of Bailey, I just found out that Beverly's AMA report didn't call off the investigation.”

Lukas stopped walking and stared at Estelle. Disappointment overwhelmed him for a moment. “How is that possible? I was under the impression that was all we needed. I thought if we had a witness that I had offered the proper
medication, and that I offered drug-abuse rehab, they would drop the investigation.”

“I asked Ms. Fellows the same question.” Estelle pressed her lips together for a moment of thought. “She believes Beverly was coerced.”

“That woman is malicious, vindictive—”

“And digging herself deeper into trouble every day she stays here.” Estelle smiled at Lukas and patted his arm. “I'm not just sitting on my hands up in that office, Lukas. Trust me.”

 

“I hate him. I hate him.” Abby Cuendet sat down next to Tedi in class, hands gripping the sides of her desk, glasses fogged over from tears that flowed from her eyes. Nobody else in the class noticed, because all the students were doing one of the work projects where they were allowed to talk to one another.

“Who do you hate?” Tedi asked. Abby had just arrived three hours late, with no note for Mr. Walters or the principal. No excuse. Mr. Walters was looking in Abby's direction, but he just shook his head sadly and stayed at his desk.

Abby didn't act as if she'd even heard Tedi's question. She stopped saying the words out loud, but her mouth continued to move. She closed her eyes, and more tears spilled out.

“Abby?” Tedi leaned across the aisle and touched her friend's skinny arm. “What's wrong? What happened?”

Abby checked to see if anybody was looking at her, then she took her glasses off and wiped her eyes and nose with the cuff of her long-sleeved T-shirt. She wiped off her glasses, then sniffed and put them back on.

Tedi sighed and returned to her work.

Five minutes later, Abby said, “He blames Mom for losing me Monday.”

Tedi looked back over at her. “Who does?”

“Dad. I heard them fighting this morning, and Mom followed Dad outside so April and Andy wouldn't hear
them. I had to stay and keep an eye on them. Next thing I knew, Dad was peeling out of the driveway toward work, and Mom was running back into the house crying. Then she had to get ready for work, and she was afraid she'd get fired, because this is the third day she's been late in two weeks.”

“Your
dad
blamed your
mom
when
you
didn't call Monday?” Tedi stressed the words and got a dirty look from Abby. “Your mom called all over trying to find you that day, Abby. How was she supposed to know where you were? Grandma had three messages on her recorder when we got back. Mom had two.”

“I know. My mother finally called your mother's office, and they told her I was okay. But before that Mom called Dad at work when she couldn't find me.”

“It doesn't sound to me like you're bringing your parents closer. It sounds to me like they're fighting because of you.”

Abby shot Tedi a narrow-eyed look and didn't say another word.

 

Lukas walked back into the house at one o'clock in the afternoon. He'd been at the hospital for four hours. It seemed as if every department director in the hospital had discovered he was there and wanted to talk to him before he got away. He hadn't gotten away; there would be no hike today. He pulled off his boots and unloaded his backpack.

The telephone rang.

He groaned. That couldn't be the hospital again. Let the telephone ring. It was probably a telemarketer, and when the recorder kicked in, they wouldn't leave a message and he would be off the hook.

But after the recorder finished its spiel, he heard Mercy's voice on the other end of the line. “What's for dinner tonight?”

Lukas dropped his boots and backpack, raced to the phone and picked up before she could say another word. “How about Wheaties? I've got a package of Rice Krispies Treats somewhere for dessert.”

There was a pause, and for a moment he wondered if he'd cut her off. “Mercy?”

“Should I dress up?”

“It'll be pretty casual.”

Another pause, then, “So I'm still invited?”

Oh yes, she was invited. “Of course.”

“And you're not mad at me?”

Lukas couldn't stop the smile, and the sense of relief, and the sudden reaction of warmth he felt at the plaintive tone of her voice. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I'm mad at myself. I've been that way a lot lately. I've got to go. Patients are coming in.”

“Does eight o'clock work for you?”

“Sure. Then maybe I'll have everybody cleared out of here in time. See you, Lukas.”

He hung up, looked at the clock, panicked. He had to go to the store. He had to take a shower and do some laundry because he was out of clothes. And he had to find a cookbook somewhere in this town and learn how to cook in one afternoon. He was going to see Mercy tonight. He could think no further than that.

The theme song of
Mission Impossible
pounded through his head, and he jumped up from the sofa and ran into the kitchen. It seemed like the best place to begin.

F
riday night Lukas decided to barbecue hamburgers on his outdoor gas grill. He'd never done it before, but he'd watched his brothers do it a couple of times, and it didn't look too hard. Besides, how complicated could it be to throw a couple of handfuls of ground beef over a fire and let them brown? He had more important things to think about. He had some more arguing to do with God.

For instance, why did he have to completely break it off with Mercy? Why couldn't they just take a backward step in their relationship? They'd been friends for six months without any dire consequences, and Mercy was more open to the subject of spiritual things now than she had ever been before. She had changed. Even Ivy had noticed, and she gave Lukas partial credit. Wouldn't it even hurt Mercy's growth toward God if Lukas broke off their friendship now? Wouldn't she feel ostracized? Abandoned?

Smoke from the dripping grease in the grill made his mouth water, until it thickened and blackened and aimed for his eyes. He coughed and tried to move out of the way, but a slight breeze picked up and seemed to swirl the smoke directly at him no matter which way he moved. He finally ducked and let the smoke rise over his head.

What a stupid way to cook food.

Before he could straighten and close the lid to the grill, a shrill, pulsing scream reached him from inside the kitchen. It took him about five seconds to realize it was the smoke alarm. By that time another scream joined it from the hallway. He leaped forward, slammed down the lid to the grill and raced through the sliding patio door into the dining room.

By the time he reached the kitchen, another alarm joined the first two for an effect straight out of a sci-fi movie. He grabbed a dish towel to wave it at the alarm. It didn't help. He opened the alarm casing, jerked out the battery and ran toward the hallway to do the same. That was when he caught sight of the living room clock. Great, he only had ten minutes to turn off the alarms, clear out the smoke and stuff away some of the clutter around the house that he hadn't taken the time to pick up and hide earlier.

He was pulling a stepladder through the hallway when he saw movement from the corner of his vision. He turned to find Mercy standing in the living room. She wore a simple red T-shirt and black jeans and sandals, and laughter mingled comically with a grimace on her face. She was shaking her head and covering her ears with her hands. He waved at her, pulled the battery and carried the ladder into the bedroom to do the same.

Quiet came at last. Boy, these were sensitive alarms!

He went back to apologize to Mercy and found her in the backyard, sliding blackened discs from the grill onto a paper plate.

“I rang the doorbell,” she explained, “but I heard the smoke alarm, so I thought you might need some help.” She replaced the lid to the grill and picked up a hamburger. “Mmm, looks delicious,” she murmured. “I can tell you've done this lots of times before.”

She led the way back into the kitchen, where she set the plate of furnace-heated burgers. She pointed toward a large
paper bag she had set on the counter. “Mom sent us a grilled green tomato salad to go along with…dinner.”

“You can put the stuff in the refrigerator.” Lukas glanced helplessly at his battered, hand-me-down dining room table, where he had plowed through enough stacks of unopened mail to clear two spaces. He had laid out two place mats decorated with scenes from the Jurassic era, and two dinosaur-decorated glasses filled with Mercy's favorite pink lemonade. The scenery on the glasses disappeared when filled with cold liquid, then reappeared as the liquid was consumed. Somehow, it didn't look as appealing as it had an hour ago. It looked childish. But it was all he had.

Mercy placed her bag in the refrigerator, coughed and stepped over to close the kitchen window, where smoke from the grill continued to drift inside.

This evening was nothing like Lukas had hoped it would be when he'd first issued the invitation. The staff at the hospital teased him because he always ordered extra when he ate out, then took the leftovers home and lived on them for a couple of days. They called him the Doggie Bag King. So far, Mercy didn't seem too impressed with his domestic abilities, either.

But he wasn't trying to impress her.

He thought again about his discussion with Theo Thursday night, and his long, heartfelt arguments with God later.

Lukas watched as Mercy stood gazing around the kitchen and dining area. On a borrowed hutch in the corner sat a nice little array of old Star Trek paraphernalia collected with his nephews, who knew he was a Trekkie. Alongside them sat a box with a GPS navigational system for hiking, which he hadn't yet opened.

His stereo cabinet held a clock with stainless-steel balls that rolled down a series of tracks every hour. The walls were still bare.

“Let me guess,” Mercy said. “You didn't hire an interior decorator.”

“Why would I want to? Most of these things are gifts from my family.”

Mercy strolled over to a curio stand by the patio door. “Do you realize I've never even been past your living room before today? I'm discovering a whole new side of you, Lukas.”

He thought of her expertly decorated home, her matched towels, her perfectly cooked and served dinners on fine china—which he happened to know were antiques given to her by her grandmother. She wasn't a snob, but compared to her home, his was a flea-market wonderland. He thought of the Rolls-Royce replica alarm clock in his bedroom and the bulletin board with pictures of his family stickpinned to it.

He cleared his throat. “Ready to eat?”

“I can't wait.” She continued gazing around the roomy, though cluttered, kitchen and reached up with typical feminine curiosity to open a cupboard door.

Lukas suddenly remembered what gadget he had hidden behind that particular door. “No, wait! Don't—”

A stuffed, coiled rattlesnake seemed to pounce from the cabinet with fangs bared. Mercy screamed and stumbled backward, and Lukas rushed forward to grab her before she tripped over the step stool behind her. Every spot he touched seemed to tingle with awareness. He didn't want to let her go. Not in any sense of the word. Already she felt like a part of him, and when she gently stepped from his embrace, he felt as if a piece of his heart went with her.

She stared at the snake, then looked at Lukas. “Don't even bother to explain.”

“It's authentic.” He swallowed and willed his breathing to return to normal. “My oldest brother's kids got it for me for my birthday when they took a trip out West this summer. I usually keep it on top of one of my stereo speakers.”

She chuckled. “Why don't we just eat?”

To Mercy's voiced surprised, the hamburgers were good—once they got past the burned and crunchy exteriors. They used part of the salad on the burgers, since Lukas had forgotten to get lettuce and tomatoes. Lukas didn't realize they didn't have napkins until they finished their meal.

He reached over and lifted a stack of mail and mistakenly uncovered a set of realistic-looking foam rubber replicas of a heart, a brain and a kidney, which he had received from drug reps at various medical conferences over the years. Beneath the heart replica lay a roll of paper towels. He tore off a section and handed it to her.

Mercy wiped barbecue sauce from her lips, then formed a tent with her hands and placed her chin on it, still staring at the various body parts. “Did anybody ever tell you that you've still got a lot of little boy in you?” She smiled at the cluttered corners of his dining room and the stacks of mail he hadn't opened in two weeks. “Do you ever get behind on bills?”

“I lose them sometimes, or I accidentally throw them away. So far the electric company has been forgiving. I've got to stop some of the junk mail I get.”

“I have never seen a bachelor more in need of a companion.”

The living room bird clock suddenly sang out its cardinal call as Lukas considered Mercy's obviously leading comment. He said nothing. He wanted to tell her how wonderful a companion she would be.

Her smile slowly vanished, and she looked at him.

Lukas swallowed hard and changed the subject. “I think you're doing the right thing by agreeing to let Tedi see Theodore again…and by going with her.” He hadn't realized it would be so hard to say those words. He didn't want to think of Theodore and Mercy rebuilding a relationship, but he had no right to be jealous. Not now.

Mercy stood up to clear the table. “I didn't come over here to talk about Theodore. I came to sample your cooking and enjoy your company and forget about this past week. It's been a killer.”

He hesitated, took a final swallow of his drink and stood to help her. “I really think he's sincere about his new faith.”

She found the dishwasher and jerked the door open with more force than necessary. “You don't know him as well as I do.”

“It's been over five years since your divorce. How well do you really still know him?”

“And you've been in town less than six months and talked to him probably five or six times.” She shoved the white Corelle plates into the dishwasher rack and straightened to look at Lukas. “You really think you can tell me anything about him I don't know?”

“I think I can look at the situation from a less biased standpoint. You're so filled with anger you can't see anything but bad memories. You must have some good ones somewhere.”

She shook her head. “Why would I want to?
He
rejected
me
, remember? Do you know how traumatizing that is? And don't give me all that garbage about how it takes two to ruin a marriage.” She shook her head and raised her arms in a silencing gesture. “I've heard it.”

“I wasn't going to—”

“Enough about divorce, okay?”

Lukas sighed and walked back over to his chair. He sank down into it, watching Mercy. “Until you learn to forgive him you won't be able to get on with—”

“I've heard that, too.”

Lukas tried to curb his growing irritation. “Well, you're not listening, so you need to hear it again,” he snapped. He saw the surprise in her eyes and was surprised at himself. He had never spoken sharply to her. “Mercy, your bitterness is still
showing. It's crippling you emotionally, and it's going to damage every relationship you have if you don't deal with it.”

She leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even ours?”

He heard the plaintive sound of her voice, the same tone he'd heard over the telephone this afternoon. It touched him deeply. And painfully. He knew there would be no backing off just one step. There was no going back to the friendship they had shared over the summer. Something had changed between them, and he knew he couldn't control the power of it. So far, the power had controlled him.

“Lukas?”

He looked up at her. She was so beautiful…so vulnerable. So open. And he needed to be open with her. She deserved that from him. He cleared his throat. “You can't have healthy future relationships until you can allow forgiveness to heal your past—all of your past. I'm not just talking about your forgiving Theo.”

She watched him for a moment, her eyes holding his steadily.

He couldn't look away. “I'm also talking about your forgiving your father for his alcoholism. And while you're at it, you might try forgiving yourself.” He swallowed, shifted in his seat and breathed deeply. He could tell by her expression that this was going to become more and more uncomfortable. He couldn't even bear the thought of not seeing her again. He had reason to believe she wouldn't be too crazy about the idea, either.

“Lukas, if I was able to do all this forgiving, do you think all my relationships would improve?” There was a breathless, expectant quality to her voice.

“Yes.”
Tell her. Say it! Say you can't see her again.

She hesitated. “Yours and mine?”

The chair became very uncomfortable. “We already have a good…friendship.”
You coward!
But this was so…impos
sible.
God, if You want me to back away from her now, You'll have to do it through me. I can't do it myself. I can't do this to her!

“How good, Lukas?” She pushed away from the counter and walked back over to kneel next to him. He could almost touch the bond that connected them. “Is there some kind of future for us? Is there some possibility that this ‘good friendship' will turn into more?”

He took another deep breath and willed his heart to stop. Period. This was too hard.

But he couldn't fantasize about a future with her, and he couldn't allow her to do it, either. “Mercy…” He hesitated, looked into her eyes, looked away.

“Because I think it already has,” she said quickly, as if she was afraid of the answer she could already read in his expression. “I'm not trying to pressure you. It's just that I can't help believing you feel the same way I do.”

She reached up and squeezed his arm, the touch of her hand sending warmth and pleasure all over his body. The power there could paralyze him. Her affection was such a new experience for him. And frightening.