Eye of the Storm

TEN



Gerard watched Megan close her eyes and saw her face go pale. He knew what she was thinking. Murder was such a frightening word when it became personalized.

“What can be happening to Kirstie?” she whispered.

“We need to keep searching for answers. Kirstie’s lab results should arrive within a couple of days.”

She looked around them. “Gerard, where are we going?”

“Your place to eat, then because Lynley has a class tonight I thought we could come back into town and have a strategy session with Kirstie if she’s awake by then. She was taking a nap when I left the house. I also want to have a look at the Lawson property.”

“I forgot about Lynley’s class. Kirstie’s alone?”

“She was asleep.”

“What if she wakes up disoriented?”

“Relax, Megan. Apparently she’s never done that. She only has problems when she’s tired. I made sure her doors were locked, and she told me she recently had the locks changed.”

“Yes, but there’s always a chance—”

“She usually has her blackouts in the evening, right?”

“Yes, and it’s evening.”

“But she’s sleeping, and she told me she never wakes up from sleep into a blackout.”

“I’m not sure about this.”

“We’ll check on her as soon as we eat.” He wondered if there was something she took in the evening or before bed, some supplement they hadn’t considered that might interact with the medicines she’d taken for the cancer she’d had two years ago. But Megan, Kirstie and Lynley were smart women, and they would have thought of those things already. Still… “You’ve checked all chemicals she works with, takes, et cetera?”

Megan nodded. “She, Lynley and I went through everything that goes into her mouth and checked for any possible drug or supplement interactions. She even stopped eating at local restaurants and started eating an organic, noninflammatory diet. We didn’t find a thing.”

“Contact lenses, toothpaste—”

Megan shook her head. “Kirstie wears glasses for reading. No contacts.”

“Did you check for unexpected contaminants around the house she might be allergic to? Bug spray, termite treatment?”

“You mean something that would also poison Lynley and the cats? We’ve gone over all that. Everything we can think of.” She sniffed and turned to look into the backseat. “Gerard, what are we going to eat? I don’t see anything.”

“I bought some salad and gluten-free pizza at a health food store Kirstie likes. It’s in the back.”

“Good. Forget the hot stuff. I’m starved.”

He nodded and glanced at her. “Wait a minute. You already mentioned hot stuff. Is there a Mexican restaurant somewhere nearby? Because honestly, gluten-free pizza sounds like it should be against the law.”

“Not if you’re gluten intolerant.”

“Which I’m not, and neither are you.”

“But it’s healthy food. The crust Kirstie gets is usually made out of cheese and cauliflower.”

He grimaced. “I wish I’d asked before I bought it.”

“Alec knew I liked hot stuff, and he told me about a Cajun restaurant in Monett. When we were dating he constantly tried to find something too hot for me to eat. I didn’t meet my match until I went to Corpus Christi.”

Gerard gently placed his tongue between his upper and lower teeth and concentrated on not biting down. How long had it been since he’d engaged in this type of imbecile emotional reaction—before today? Yes, he’d already betrayed his jealousy earlier this morning, but to be jealous about the simple fact that she had spoken with Alec about food? Unmanly.

Maybe it was because now that he’d met the guy, and because Kirstie had told him about how heartbroken Megan was after their post-graduation breakup—now, why had Kirstie thought it important to mention that?—he realized on several levels that despite a marriage contract, Alec may be interested in Megan as more than an employee. And right now Megan could be susceptible to the sweetheart of her youth, who didn’t remind her of a recent murder every time she looked at him.

“Let me guess,” he said, “you had a long talk with Alec about me.”

“Really, Gerard. It doesn’t always have to be about you.” She grinned as she said it, but that didn’t stop the sting of her words.

“But it was.”

“Only parts of it. And no, he didn’t get anything out of me about Kirstie or about why I’m here, though he tried. As did his mother. What on Earth prompted you to tell my friends how desperate I was to leave the mission?”

“I’ve found the truth is always best.”

“But it only led to more questions. I wasn’t lying, Gerard. I was keeping quiet about certain things. This was my secret and you violated it. All you’ve done is tempt my friends to pressure me harder to tell them something I don’t plan to tell.”

“Sorry. I’d hoped they would realize you’ve been through more than they can imagine and that they needed to give you some breathing space.” Especially Alec. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to share it with one or two of your closest friends.”

“Not your decision to make.”

“I’m simply advising, not making decisions.”

“Well, stop talking to my friends about me, okay?”

“Fine.” Gerard tapped the brake and made another left turn onto a farm road.

“Alec’s willing to at least continue a discussion about your plans for Jolly Mill,” Megan said.

“So you did talk to him about them?”

“I had the opportunity. I’m not sure he’s ready to be your biggest ally in this venture, and if my friends find out why I’m really here and how dangerous that mission is, I could be your only ally in town, so it wouldn’t hurt you to keep your mouth shut about the subject of Megan Bradley.”

Gerard felt a lash of shame, not because of her words, but because right now he found himself caring less about the project than he did about Alec’s proximity to Megan. Being here and meeting the man, seeing his resistance to the rehab plan, seeing Megan here on her home turf made Gerard feel like an outsider, when he had come here to help Megan through her PTSD and make inroads into helping the homeless who could be rehabilitated. He hadn’t come here for a boxing match with her old boyfriend.

Megan pulled a wrapped cookie from her purse and held it out for him. “Nora made these, and I guarantee they’re the best you’ve ever tasted.” She unwrapped it, broke off a piece and held it to his lips. “Try it?”

He opened his mouth and allowed her to place it on his tongue, and the intimacy of that small act nearly made him miss the curve in the road. The combination of nuts and butter with a biscotti crunch nearly crossed his eyes. He groaned.

“Good, isn’t it?” There was a grin in Megan’s voice.

“Kind of heady for a starving man.”

“Didn’t you eat today?”

“Kirstie made me take her to a fancy teahouse south of Springfield for lunch.”

“Uh-oh. Not enough food for a rancher, huh?”

“Let’s just say my taste buds haven’t been challenged enough.”

“Then why not put the pizza in the freezer and head to The Bayou?” She rewrapped the cookie and put it back in her purse. “This’ll be good for dessert. Alec implied the food at The Bayou will burn holes in our tongues if you request it hot.”

Alec again. “He lives in Missouri. He doesn’t know hot.”

She dug into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll call him for directions to the restaurant.”

Gerard tapped the brake when he saw the end of her quarter-mile driveway. The next time he heard that man’s name on Megan’s lips, his head might explode. “You know what? That pizza’s smelling better to me all the time. We can nuke that sucker and be chowing down in a few minutes. Why not just have a picnic on your porch swing?”

In the periphery of his vision he could see Megan studying him. “You seem just a tad grouchy.”

No kidding. “Was it something I said?”

“The way you said it.”

He turned onto the drive to her cabin in the woods. The Thompson cabin. “If you’ll remember, I drove all night last night, I drove and walked and talked all day today, and I’ve had probably an hour of sleep tops since I got up yesterday morning.”

“Who asked you to drive all night?”

“If you had answered my phone calls or replied to my messages I wouldn’t have felt the need to—”

“Really?” She leaned forward to catch his gaze. “You’re blaming me?”

“No, I’m just saying—”

“Somebody needs a nap.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

He parked in front of the cabin and frowned at her. “You find that funny?” There was definitely a glimmer of suppressed humor in her eyes. Maybe even a glint of cheerfulness.

“I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

He would not allow a blush to rise to his face. She was one woman who could undercut his confidence in a way no other woman had ever been able to do. He felt his frown turn to a scowl and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t argue with her because she was spot on. But if she was cheerful about it, that was a good thing, right?

Or maybe the thought of it was just laughable.

Nope. That couldn’t be it. He knew better.

“I think you should go straight to bed as soon as you’ve eaten,” she said.

“Yes, Mother. But what about Kirstie?”

Megan ignored him. “In fact, there’s a luxuriously comfortable bed just inside those doors, and I can take a nice, long walk while you rest.”

“If I go to sleep I could be out for ten hours. I’ve already unpacked my suitcase at Kirstie’s.” And there was no way he would chance compromising Megan’s reputation by staying inside her cabin too long.

He got out of the car and opened the back hatch for the food. His eyes burned. Megan was right—he desperately needed rest, but he needed this time with Megan more.

“If you keep abusing your body like this,” Megan said as she sprang from the car, “you won’t be able to continue using brute force to keep the troublemakers out of the mission.” She took the bag from him and preceded him up the porch steps and into the cottage. She didn’t use a key.

“You didn’t lock?” He did not believe this woman. After all she’d gone through, she didn’t even consider the consequences of her lack of security?

She stopped and turned to give him a sheepish smile. “You had me distracted this morning.”

“So you’re blaming me?”

She shrugged. “You know that old saying? Turnabout’s fair play. If you’re going to blame me because you’re sleepy—”

“Okay, got it.” He reluctantly returned the smile and resisted the urge to tangle his fingers in her thick, ginger-colored hair and kiss her. It was something he’d wanted to do since he’d first seen her and spoken with her, heard her soft voice and seen the authentic compassion she showed to her patients, no matter how drunk or high they might be, how dirty, how smelly.

“Megan, we stopped by to visit Lawson Barnes.”

“He’s great, isn’t he? Kirstie and her brother, Eugene, spent a lot of time with him when they were growing up. How was he?”

“If I didn’t know he was sick, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I hate that all this happened to him.” She unwrapped the food and opened cabinets and drawers for eating plates and utensils. “He had a knack for people, and it wasn’t a fake friendliness—it was genuine.”

“I think that’s why he was interested in the rehab project. If we do get it going here in Jolly Mill,” Gerard continued, “the people who come here will be capable of learning new skills and contributing to the workforce. They will be upstanding members of society with families to feed and children to educate. They will not be killers.”

Megan put ice in two tumblers, watching him askance. “But one out of every twenty-five people is a sociopath. You said so yourself. Do you have a foolproof test to cull out the bad ones?”

“Hans has a psychological screening that he uses for all upper management.”

“That’s not foolproof.”

“Nothing in this life is foolproof. We can only do the best we know how to do.”

“I know the rest of the line. We’re supposed to trust God for the results.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He wanted to take her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right, but he’d learned long ago that was an empty promise. “You’re still scared to death, aren’t you?”

Her movements slowed as she stacked dinnerware on her tiny dining table. She looked up at him and swallowed. “What if you’re bringing more danger here?”

“Trust me when I say that this won’t be anything like the mission.” He knew as he said the words that she wouldn’t believe him because deep down, though she wouldn’t even admit it to herself, she blamed him for the killer coming through the door.

She took a sharp breath and resumed setting the table. “Kirstie, of course, loves the whole idea.”

He nodded.

Megan leaned over the pizza and inhaled. “Jalapeños!”

He eyed the room divider, behind which must be the bed. “Hottest I could find.”

“I think this food needs to be heated the right way. Why don’t you rest while I turn on the stove and get the cheese sizzling?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped behind the red room divider, pulled off his shoes and sank onto the mattress. And he slept.

When he awakened it was dark outside. The faint fragrance of pizza continued to linger in the air. He got up and realized he was alone, that he was now ready to eat not only a healthy pizza, but also anything that came with it, including the grease-soaked cardboard box. He found more than half a pizza and a healthy helping of chopped salad waiting for him on Megan’s tiny kitchenette table with a note telling him to rest as long as he wanted. She’d walked back to town to get her car and check on Kirstie.

Of course. Megan couldn’t stop worrying about Kirstie. No matter how traumatized she was, how terrified she might be by what was taking place in Kirstie’s life, Megan would not let Kirstie down. That was the reason she continued to blame herself for Joni’s death. She’d have rather died herself than allow the life of another innocent to slip away. Megan Bradley was a true heroine.