The Ugly Duckling (6 page)

“Flourishing.”

“Then you should have stayed in Dublin and away from Nicholas.”

“Ah, but what we should do and what we do so seldom coincide.” He smiled. “We see a problem, a challenge, and we go for it. Isn’t that right, Joel?”

Joel grimaced. “I may not pick up this particular challenge.”

“Bad?” Nicholas asked.

“There are no cuts, but her entire face will have to be reconstructed. I can do the initial surgery in one operation, but then there will be psychotherapy and checkups and—Do you realize how much work that will take? I’m booked up for the next two years. I don’t have the
time
.”

“She needs you, Joel.”

“Don’t lay that guilt trip on me. I can’t solve everyone’s problems.”

“Her husband and child were murdered in that raid.”

“Oh, shit.”

“She’s lost everything. Are you going to tell her that she’s going to have to live the rest of her life looking like a gargoyle?”

“I’m not the only surgeon in the world.”

“But you’re the best. You tell me so all the time. She deserves the best.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I met her. She’s a nice woman.”

“I said, I’d think about it, dammit,” Joel said through his teeth.

“You do that.” Nicholas stood up and moved toward the door. “I’ll bring her dossier tomorrow and we’ll talk. Come on, Jamie, let’s get some dinner.” He paused. “By the way, how’s Tania?”

“Fine.” Joel scowled. “She’ll want to see you. I suppose you can come to dinner at my house.”

“It’s difficult for me to refuse such a warm invitation, but I think I’ll pass.” He smiled. “Why don’t you get Tania’s opinion on whether you should commit yourself to helping Nell Calder?”

“Damn you,” Joel said.

Nicholas was smiling as he closed the door.

“Who’s Tania?” Jamie asked as they passed through the reception room.

“His housekeeper. Tania Vlados is a mutual friend.” He jabbed a button at the bank of elevators.

“Will she help persuade him?”

“I doubt if he’ll discuss it with her. Tania would make him too uncomfortable. She’s a bit of a bulldozer. Besides, we don’t need her. He’s already wrestling with himself. He grew up poor as dirt and it’s always difficult for him to put the quest for wealth behind human kindness.”

Jamie looked back through the glass doors into Lieber’s luxurious office. “He seems to do all right.”

“But he also donates his services one day a week to help abused children.” The elevator stopped and he entered. “And it won’t be the kids he’ll drop if he takes on Nell Calder.”

“You could offer him enough to sweeten the pot.”

“Not now. It would insult him. Once he’s committed, I assure you he’ll make me pay through the nose.”

“You’re going to a hell of a lot of trouble.”

“So?”

“You’re not to blame for this.”

“The hell I’m not.” He wearily shook his head. “And don’t give me that bull about her being responsible because she was dealing with Gardeaux. I don’t think she did.”

“Then why did he want to take her out?”

“I don’t know. None of it makes sense. There has to be some reason.” He paused. “She and the kid were both stabbed, when a bullet would have been quicker and more efficient.”

“Maritz?”

“Probably. He was a Seal and he’s the only one of Gardeaux’s men who’s in love with a knife. Nell Calder must have been his sole target. Her husband and the others were killed in the ballroom, but he stalked her.”

“Prime target.” Jamie nodded. “Which makes your innocent-bystander premise distinctly suspect.”

“Then prove me wrong. It would make me happy as hell to find out she was working for Gardeaux. If you’re going to trace any connection, we’ll need more information than the dossier Conner’s compiled on her. I want to know what she had for breakfast when she was six years old.”

“And when do you want me to start?” He held up his hand. “Never mind. After dinner, right?”

“I can get someone else. It’s donkey work, and I’m not sure it will bring us any closer to Gardeaux.”

“Well, the pub’s a bit slow right now. I might as well do it myself. Anything else?”

“A guard on her hospital room. Gardeaux might not
like the fact that she’s still alive.” He made a face. “Better make him unobtrusive, or Joel will have a cow.”

“Not easy. Those medical types are very territorial.” He thought about it. “Maybe a male nurse. I could call Phil Johnson in Chicago.”

“Whatever. Just have him in place by tomorrow morning.”

“What about tonight?”

“I’ll be with her tonight.”

“You didn’t sleep on the plane.”

“And I won’t sleep tonight. I’m not going to make another mistake.”

T
anek again.

He looked different, and for a moment Nell couldn’t realize why.

The green sweater. He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo. And he no longer looked angry and tense, only tired.

She could understand that. She was tired too. So tired she could barely hold her eyes open. She seemed to be floating.…

That’s right, she was dying. If this was what it was like, it wasn’t so bad.

She must have whispered, because he leaned forward. “You’re not dying. You’re fine.” He grimaced. “Well, not fine, but you’re not going to die. You’re in a hospital back in the States. You have quite a few broken bones but nothing we can’t fix.”

She felt vaguely comforted. No, there was nothing he couldn’t fix. She had known that the first time she had seen him.

“Go back to sleep.”

But she couldn’t go back to sleep. There was something wrong. Something to do with that dark horror before she fell. Something she had to ask. “Jill …”

His expression didn’t change, but she felt a ripple of panic. Yes, something was wrong.

“Go to sleep.”

She quickly closed her eyes. Darkness. She could hide there, hide from the hideous truth she sensed behind Tanek’s impassive face.

She let the darkness carry her away.

“Y
ou do not eat my soup,” Tania said as she sat down at the table. “Perhaps you think it unworthy of you?”

Joel Lieber scowled. “Don’t start that. I’m not hungry.”

“You work from dawn to dusk and your secretary says you seldom have lunch. You must be hungry.” She calmly met his gaze. “Which means you think my soup unworthy. But I don’t see how that can be, when you haven’t tasted it.”

He took up his spoon, dipped it into the soup, and brought the spoon to his mouth. “Delicious,” he growled.

“Now the rest. Hurry. Before my roast gets cold.”

He put his spoon down. “Stop giving me orders in my own home.”

“Why? It’s the only place you will take orders. You’re a very arrogant man.” She sipped delicately at the soup. “But you can be forgiven your arrogance in the operating room, since you probably know best. Here,
I
know best.”

“About everything under the sun. You’ve made my life a torment since you moved in with me.”

She smiled serenely. “You lie, you’ve never been so contented. I give you fine food, a motherly shoulder to lean on, and a clean house. You would be lost if I left you.”

Yes, he would. “Your shoulders aren’t at all motherly.”
They were straight and square and always looked as if she were going forth into battle. Sadly, she
was
accustomed to battle. She had been born and raised in the hell Sarajevo had become. Nicholas had brought her to him four years before, half starved, wounded, and scarred from shrapnel. Eighteen years of age, with the eyes of an old woman. “And I got along very well without you for a number of years.”

She snorted. “So well, Donna divorced you because she never saw you. A man must have a home as well as a career. It’s good I came in time to save you.” She took another sip of soup. “Donna thinks so too. She thinks I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“I don’t appreciate you conspiring with my ex-wife.”

“I don’t conspire. I talk to her. Is that conspiring?”

“Yes.”

“I’m here alone all day. I need to practice my English, so I talk on the phone.” She said with satisfaction, “My English is getting much better. Soon I will be ready to go to the university.”

He went still. “You will?”

“But don’t be frightened. I will still stay with you. I’m very happy here.”

“I’m not frightened.” He glowered at her. “I’d be glad to be rid of you. You’re the one who marched into my house and took over.”

“I could do nothing else,” she said simply. “You would have grown old and sour as an unripe olive if I hadn’t come to you.”

“And you’re here to keep me young and sweet?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Young, I can do. Sweet is a greater challenge.”

She had a wonderful smile. Her face was angular and strong, with wide, mobile lips and deepset eyes. It was not a pretty face until she smiled, and then Joel felt as
if she had given him a special gift. He had taken away the scars, but God had given her that smile.

She said calmly, “Though it would help if you would take me to your bed.”

He looked down and hastily took a sip of soup. “I told you, I don’t jump into the sack with teenagers.”

“I’m twenty-two now.”

“And I’m almost forty-one. Too old for you.”

“Age means nothing. People don’t think that way anymore.”

“I do.”

“I know, you make it very difficult for me. But we won’t argue about it now.” She rose to her feet. “You’re already upset and you’ll blame the indigestion on my soup. We’ll finish dinner and then you can tell me what’s wrong over coffee in the library.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You know you’ll feel better talking about it. I’ll get the roast.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“D
rink your coffee.” Tania curled up across from him in the big Chesterfield, tucking her long legs beneath her. “I put a little cinnamon in it. You’ll like it.”

“I don’t like sweet coffee.”

“Spice isn’t sweet. Besides, how do you know? I bet you’ve not had anything but vile black brew since medical school.”

“It’s not vile.” He added, “And you don’t let me have caffeine anymore.”

“You still have it at the hospital.”

“I suppose your spies report back to you? I’ll drink what I please.” He deliberately set his cup on the table beside him. “And I don’t want to have any coffee at all
now. I have to get back to the hospital and check on a patient.”

“The patient you’re so worried about that you can’t eat?”

“I’m not worried.”

“Then why are you going back to the hospital? Is it one of the children?”

“No, it’s a woman.”

She said nothing, only waited.

“Nicholas brought her,” he added reluctantly.

“Nicholas?” She sat upright in the chair.

“I thought that would pique your interest,” he said sourly. “But it doesn’t make any difference. You can’t persuade me to take this case just because Nicholas wants me to do it. The breakage is too severe to reconstruct her face exactly the way it was. I’ll turn her over to Samplin.”

“I wouldn’t try to persuade you. I owe a debt to Nicholas and it’s mine alone to pay.” She frowned. “Who is the woman?”

“Nell Calder. She was one of the victims at the Kavinski massacre.”

“No, who is she to Nicholas?”

“You needn’t be jealous. I think he barely knows her.”

“Why would I be jealous?”

Her surprise was genuine, and Joel felt a ripple of relief. He tried to shrug casually. “The two of you are close as peas in a pod.”

“He saved my life and he brought me to you.” She gazed at him thoughtfully. “Nicholas and I want nothing from each other except friendship.”

“Nicholas seldom does anything for nothing.”

“Why are you talking like this about Nicholas? You like him.”

He did like him. He was also jealous as hell of the
bastard. He had a sudden memory of a scene in
Casablanca
when Ingrid Bergman stared wistfully after Humphrey Bogart while Paul Henreid looked noble and boring in the background. It hadn’t mattered to her that Henreid was a heroic resistance fighter; black sheep were always more interesting.

“You don’t understand him,” Tania said. “He’s not as hard as he seems. He’s on the other side now.”

“Other side?”

“He’s led a rough life. Things happen to scar and twist you until you think you’ll never believe in anything, that there’s no evil you couldn’t commit to survive. Then you go beyond it.” She looked down into her coffee cup. “And you become human again.”

She was not only talking about Nicholas. She had been through that hell and come out on the other side too. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, to tell her he’d care for her and treasure her always.

He picked up the coffee cup and took a drink. “It’s good,” he lied.

Great, Joel. Nicholas saves her life and you compliment her coffee.

She smiled brilliantly. “I told you so.”

“You’re always telling me so. It’s very irritating.”

“So why does Nicholas want you to help this woman?”

He shrugged. “I think he believes he’s partially responsible. So he brings her to me to absolve his guilt. I’m not buying it.”

“I think you are. You feel sorry for this woman.”

“I told you, I can’t give her back what she’s lost.”

“You can’t put her face back exactly the way it was,” she said. “But you can give her a new face, right?”

“I thought you weren’t going to try to persuade me.”

“I’m not. It’s entirely your decision. But, since you’ll
probably do it anyway, I think you should give yourself a challenge to make it more interesting.” She smiled teasingly. “Have you never wanted to experiment with your own Galatea?”

“No,” he said flatly. “That’s not plastic surgery. It’s fairy tales.”

“Ah, but you need fairy tales, Joel. No one needs them more than you.” She stood up and took his cup away from him. “You hated this coffee, didn’t you?”

“No, I thought it—” He met her gaze. “Yes.”

“But you did it for me.” She brushed his forehead with her lips. “I thank you.”

She carried the tray out of the library.

The room seemed suddenly dimmer without her vibrant presence.

She had said the debt to Nicholas was hers alone.