Eye of the Storm

SIX



Megan pulled a set of medium-size scrubs from the cabinet by the door and stepped to the exam bed to help Kirstie change out of her mud-stiffened nightgown. The exam room smelled like fish. They’d managed to get a great deal of the mud from her hair and skin while arguing about Gerard’s presence in this case. Kirstie wasn’t typically a manipulative woman, but today she was pulling strings like a puppeteer.

“You’ve told me yourself that he still behaves like a cop.” Kirstie slid her feet into the scrub bottoms and allowed Megan to pull them up and tie them. “Who better to help you if there’s danger involved?”

“How about Sheriff Moritz?”

“He doesn’t have a clue about all this.”

“You might be surprised what folks around here know of Barry.”

Kirstie looked up at Megan. Their gazes locked. Megan would never tell Kirstie all she knew about him.

“You suspect him too, then,” Kirstie said.

“Right now I hate him and I want to find him guilty.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t want to be filled with hatred. It’ll only hurt you.”

“We’re focusing on your health right now, not mine.” Megan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Kirstie had a lot in common with the Vance family—forgiveness, love, kindness, all the things that supposedly kept a person emotionally healthy. “Besides, I can’t forgive Barry right now, and I don’t think Lynley can either. Can you?”

“I’m trying.” Kirstie placed a hand on Megan’s and squeezed. “That’s one of the things keeping you from Gerard, isn’t it? The depth of his faith? While you’re still mysteriously angry with God after all these years?”

“Let’s talk about what’s going on with you. Barry didn’t leave when you had breast cancer. So why leave this time?”

Kirstie sighed. “He told me it was because he couldn’t face watching me change. He didn’t feel he should have to remain with someone who was no longer the woman he married.”

“And yet he let his own daughter face it alone. What man would do that to his wife and child?” If Barry was here right now, Megan would be sorely tempted to scratch out his eyes.

“A weak man.”

“And stupid,” Megan said. “To leave you now? Not to sound crass, but you stand to inherit millions soon. I can’t see Barry ever forgetting that.”

Kirstie’s hand slid from Megan’s. She closed her eyes. “Maybe he was just so desperate to get away from me that he didn’t care. Or maybe he’s afraid the cost of caring for me for years will eat up the money.”

Megan slid a pair of the clinic’s paper shoe covers over Kirstie’s injured feet. “He cares about the money, believe me.”

“And yet he cared nothing about hurting the woman he should love most in the world.” Kirstie shook her head. “There’s the bite. He should have loved me, but how long has it been since he has?”

“My question isn’t why he doesn’t love you, but whether he’s ever been able to love. Kirstie, I’ve never seen him show true affection for anyone, not even his own daughter.” Megan knew she wasn’t telling Kirstie anything she didn’t already know. “I’m not sure why he spent so much time hunting with Lawson, but I can guess. Perhaps Lawson should have protection.”

Kirstie closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I told myself when I first suspected Barry of being a player that I’d made my own choices and I would have to live with them. Marrying the man was one thing, but having a child with him? Unconscionable. And his friendship with Lawson? It was because of me. You can’t imagine how much guilt I’ve lived with all these years.” She looked up at Megan. “You think he’d be vile enough to try to hasten Uncle Lawson’s death?”

“Until he’s dead, Lawson can always change his will.” Megan moved around behind Kirstie to give her some privacy as she slid the nightgown off and pulled on the scrub top.

“Despite his many, many faults, I can’t imagine Barry ever trying to kill his hunting buddy,” Kirstie said.

“That’s because you always want to believe the best of people. It’s why Lynley’s such a loyal, good person. You raised her to be just like you.”

“I know our marriage has lacked in a lot of areas, and my fight with cancer weakened what connection we did have, but I have to say I was shocked when he left me.”

“Why?”

Kirstie grimaced. “You and I both know Barry worships money even more than he worships women. But he knew Lawson was dying and that we would inherit a bundle. Why would he leave me before Lawson dies?”

Megan shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.” She’d expected him to leave Kirstie years ago, and he probably would have if not for Lawson’s money. Barry neither understood nor appreciated his wife’s Christian belief system, and throughout their marriage he had taunted her for her faith.

Though Megan had long ago barred her heart from conversations with God, she believed there was something to the biblical concept of believers not marrying nonbelievers. That, in itself, was a good reason to avoid Gerard. Their most basic belief systems would clash.

Kirstie gave a soft sigh. “Maybe seeing me like I am just repulsed him so much he couldn’t stand—”

“There’s nothing repulsive about you.”

“Maybe to a man, reconstructive surgery just isn’t the same.”

“A real man would love his wife even more, would be grateful he hadn’t lost her.”

Kirstie paused. “And you know this how?”

“Gerard told me.”

“So you do see Gerard as a real man.”

“Well, he’s—”

“A man’s man. Tough and gallant and able to punch through rocks for the woman he loves.”

Megan grinned and gave Kirstie’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Um, honey, you used those very words once a few months ago. And I do remember them. No trouble with recall there. So you must understand why I want Gerard to get involved in this. He not only thinks like a cop, but he’ll also know how to protect you while you work on finding out what’s really happening to me—which is definitely not Alzheimer’s.”

“I did tell you I have a license to carry, didn’t I? And that I know how to shoot? Gerard taught me.”

“But you’re not a cop, and I hate to say this, honey, but you’re no fighter. I doubt you’d be much good at hand-to-hand combat. Plus there’s the issue of Gerard’s investigative abilities—something you also talked about when you were more willing to admit your attraction to him.”

“Now I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.”

“Impossible when a girl’s in love.” Kirstie turned around on the exam bed, swung her feet over the side and took Megan by the arm. “It’ll be safer for all of our friends and loved ones here if Gerard’s around to keep an eye on things.”

“Where’s he going to stay?”

“He can stay in my guest bedroom. Now, I’m going to wash my face a little better and then snatch your former employer for a ride home. I’ll tell Gerard all about it. He already knows the basics. I trust him to take the blood samples to a lab in Springfield—and me to the doctor’s office to get my records.” She studied Megan’s expression. “You look worried. Afraid I’ll steal your man from you before you change your mind about him again?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, trust me that you’re going to change your mind. You’ve got a winner there.”

“Obviously you think so.”

Kirstie gave her a wink. “Help me up.”

“Wait until I finish packing these samples.”

“So you’re up for my plan?”

“For you, Kirstie.” And she hoped Kirstie would someday appreciate how difficult this would be.





Gerard listened as Carmen recounted to Nora and Alec his plans for the rehab center and manufacturing plant. Nora tapped a manicured finger against her cheek as she studied him with those dark, astute eyes. The mother was obviously the brains behind the Thompson businesses. Or at least the power.

Alec’s expression had darkened the more Carmen talked. He hadn’t spoken enough to reveal much about his character, except to show a touch of anxiety about Gerard’s relationship with Megan. Which meant Gerard could have some kind of competition. He tried not to think too much about that for now. Later, when he knew these people better, he’d be able to read them more clearly.

He couldn’t, however, ignore the curious glances he continued to receive from Alec as Carmen spoke.

“Do you have concerns about the plans for the rehab center, Mr. Thompson?” Gerard asked when Carmen paused to take a breath.

“Call me Alec,” the man said. “I wouldn’t say I’m concerned as much as curious. I’ve never heard of a rehab center for the homeless. What would it offer?”

“Room and board initially. Placement would happen after we’re settled.”

“Would there be any training involved?” Nora asked.

“All kinds. For some, it could involve helping our people get their GEDs. Others might need on-the-job training, which some are already receiving in our Texas facility. Still others may need to complete college and get diplomas.”

Alec whistled softly. “You do all that?”

“We’ve already started things in motion.”

“Your family is all involved?” Nora asked.

“My brother, Hans, runs the plant in Texas now, and I run the mission. Our sister, Tess, and her future husband, Sean, will take over the mission in Corpus Christi when I establish a place for our newest project.”

“But how will you know which people to bring to the rehab center?” Nora asked.

“We have families with children living in cars or on the street because of lost jobs and inability to pay mortgages, and that’s not just in Corpus Christi—that’s all over the country. Those people will be our first targets. My dream is to make this nationwide.”

“Children on the streets?” Nora exclaimed.

“Women, children, teenagers who once lived what they believed to be the good life,” Gerard said. “My initial goal is to bring those people who are employable but who have no place to live and give them a home here where it’s safe and peaceful. I want to get their children enrolled in school and support them while the adults help take over the running of the facility.”

“In other words, you’re putting them to work right away,” Alec said.

“That’s the most vital thing we can do for them after feeding them and putting a roof over their heads. They need that self-respect. Our motto at the mission is taken from the Bible: If they don’t work, they don’t eat.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh? What about those who can’t work?” Alec asked.

“Why would an adult be unable to work?”

Alec shrugged. “Injuries, mental illness.”

“We’re not slave drivers. We don’t force people with back injuries to lift heavy weights, but they can help with food service, bookkeeping, whatever they’re capable of doing, and that helps them retain their self-respect. Our goal isn’t to continue giving handouts to the same people—it’s to get those people back on their feet and help them become contributing members of society again.”

“Bravo,” Nora said. “I think my son is concerned you’re going to bring a bunch of freeloaders to town and ruin the community.”

Alec scowled. “My mother is putting words in my mouth.”

“Good words, though,” Gerard said. “I invite your questions. In fact, after I do some investigating, I may decide to request a town hall meeting and open the floor for questions.”

“I don’t think you want to do that here,” Alec said.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d be changing the whole character of Jolly Mill.”

Gerard had to admit to himself that the man seemed to truly care for this town. “I understand that you don’t want to lose what you have here, but what if the changes were positive? Those who have lost jobs in the recent past here in Jolly Mill would have more job options. We could work together to make this town stronger.”

“How can you guarantee you won’t bring troublemakers?” Alec leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’ll admit my mother has a point. What if these people lost their homes because they weren’t willing to work hard enough to save them in the first place? What if the same thing happens to them here? We can’t afford a homeless population in a tiny town like ours.” Gone was any veneer of friendly curiosity.

Megan had said that Alec and Nora were good people, and she should know. But there were often good people on opposing sides of an argument, and Gerard had to check his own tendency to distrust Alec. After all, hadn’t the man lured Megan from Corpus Christi with the promise of a job? What did he really want from her?

“We will do background checks on every family under consideration,” Gerard said. “My brother can tell if he’s getting a good employee or not.”

“I think if anyone can get it done,” Nora said as she pulled the elegantly tooled leather bag from her shoulder, “you and your family would be the ones to do it, Gerard, according to Megan, and I trust her opinion. I think it’s admirable and it will help a lot of people.” She ignored a glance of irritation from her son. “This town needs more people with your kind of compassion and ambition.” She cast Carmen a companionable grin. “With the energy of youth to carry him, right, Carmen?”

Gerard studied the resistance in Alec’s expression. Was he seriously doubting the plan, or was he doubting the man who would be implementing it?

“I’m not coming here to take jobs from established members of the community,” Gerard said, “but to bring hope. With my family’s plans to extend our manufacturing business to this area, we’d hope it would not only help with unemployment, but will keep those from the rehab center employed so there are no homeless.”

Alec held Gerard’s gaze. Definite animosity there. Jealousy, perhaps?

Despite his interest in the subject, Gerard couldn’t help casting glances toward the treatment rooms, hoping that Megan would walk out with Kirstie at any moment, proclaiming Kirstie to be in fine shape, perhaps to announce a sudden discovery that the medications Kirstie had been taking after her cancer turned out to be the culprit for her memory loss.

One could dream. He knew Kirstie had been checking into that.

Alec was still glaring with suspicion when Gerard looked back. Not surprising. Nobody wanted a stranger to come into their town and start talking about bringing a boatload of changes—and there would be changes with so many new people moving here. If it happened here. Gerard shouldn’t blame Alec for his wariness.

But how close was his friendship with Megan? She and Alec had known each other since kindergarten. Obviously, they’d known each other well.

Alec hadn’t requested any kind of recommendation from her former employer about her skills as a physician. What kind of man would hire a physician to care for people, no matter how well he knew her as a person, without some kind of input from a former colleague or employer?

This situation would need to be handled with finesse in a town so small and close. Gerard had to be able to get along with everyone from the beginning. And he needed to make sure they all understood that he and Megan had a solid relationship and that there was definitely no room for anyone else in Megan’s life. Hers was already full to bursting. He definitely needed to make that obvious.

Of course, first he had to make sure it was true.





As Megan finished packing the blood samples for shipment, Kirstie sat on the bed and combed her fingers through the hair they’d tried to clean with wet towels. “Believe it or not, I’m not playing matchmaker here, though I can’t help believing he’ll turn out to be the man for you when it all comes out in the wash.”

“I’m not going there.”

“He’s real all the way to the core. You’ve said so yourself on numerous occasions, and I’ve checked him out online and talked to him. He also loves you.”

“Kirstie—”

“I know that isn’t something you’ll talk about right now, so we’ll let it slide for the moment.”

“You keep trying to divert my attention, so what aren’t you telling me?”

Kirstie reached forward and delivered a mild thump on the side of Megan’s skull. “Use this thing, sweetie. You and I both agree that it’s possible I’m being drugged or poisoned, and I am not delusional. Anyone who would do that to me would do as much or more to you. I want you protected. I want Lynley protected.”

“You honestly think Barry would hurt his own daughter?”

“It may not be Barry, honey.”

“Don’t go soft on me. You’ve admitted you know what he is.”

“It isn’t that simple. I think it’s possible someone believes that if I have Alzheimer’s, with my short-term memory whacking out on me, my long-term memory may kick in at unusual times. Someone may fear that I’ll remember the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Megan frowned at Kirstie.

“It’s possible I witnessed something without realizing what it was,” Kirstie said.

“Here? In Jolly Mill? I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know.”

“Anything in particular on your mind?”

Kirstie hesitated. “If I tell you, I’m afraid you might decide I’m truly nuts.”

“If I’m going to play spy doctor, it would help if I know what you think is happening.”

Kirstie straightened her legs and looked at her shoe covers without the shoes. “I’ve always taken pride in my feet. Maybe that’s because I was once voted to have the prettiest feet in our class in high school. Of course, Nora had the prettiest eyes, but I’ve always taken extra good care of my feet, making sure my shoes fit just right, getting my pedicures every month—”

“Now you’re really scaring me. What does this have to do with—”

“Something is scaring me,” Kirstie whispered, glancing toward the door. “Memories or impressions of some kind seem to be reaching out to me from the past—incidents that I never connected together before, but for some reason I’m connecting them now.”

“Do they involve your feet? You’re losing me, Kirstie.”

“I don’t typically go running barefoot through the woods. I don’t think I would do that, even in the middle of an altered state of consciousness, unless I was terrified. I may not be able to remember what happened to me last night, but I’m recalling bits and pieces of other things from years ago.”

Megan took a slow, deep breath and waited, heart rate climbing.

Kirstie leaned closer to Megan. “When I’m on the verge of slipping out of reality, I can tell it by a blast of fear. I discovered that just this morning, when I came to myself in the darkness, poised above the creek with my feet in pain.”

“You remembered something you haven’t before?”

“I could tell dawn was near, and I tried to make my way down toward the creek to find out where I was, but the fear came over me again, and I realized, just before I fell and hit water, that it was a familiar fear.”

“Familiar in what way?”

“There’s an impression of something black and evil looming over our town.”

“But you’re saying it’s a memory from the past?”

“I caught a glimpse of it this morning, Megan. When I hit the water, I snapped from the blackout, and just for a moment I was connected to both worlds. And there seemed to be a connection to all the other blackouts I’ve had.”

“What did you glimpse?”

“Do you remember Mara Trillis?”

“Yes. She went to school with Lynley and me. She drowned in the mill pond when she tried to swim drunk.”

“I’ve seen her,” Kirstie said.

“In your blackout?”

Kirstie nodded, maintaining Megan’s gaze. “In the corner of my eye when I was sinking into one of my dark spells. Beautiful young girl, big eyes and…other attributes. You and Lynley saw her that night, before she drowned, and you tried to talk her into coming home with you so you could sober her up.”

“She refused.”

“You and Lynley always blamed yourselves for that, and I reminded you that without knocking her in the head and dragging her home, you could have done nothing.”

“What does Mara have to do with your blackouts?” Megan asked.

“What if my mind is forcing me to recall some things in the past to help me figure out what’s happening now? Face it, honey, sometimes my subconscious is all I have left but I believe it’s working. Long-term memories are still working. If not, then I’m totally insane and without hope.”

“Maybe it’s just a bad dream?”

“Not a dream, but a bad memory I can’t get rid of. Sometimes when I close my eyes I get this feeling that I’m not alone,” Kirstie said. “Someone’s watching me. If there’s something to be afraid of, I don’t want Lynley anywhere near me. I want her safe. I think that’s why I run without any consideration for what I’m doing to my poor feet. I think I’m afraid. Terrified of something that this other part of me—the crazy part—isn’t ready to share with my conscious.”

“You’re saying you may have seen something you shouldn’t have, and someone knows it? That you’re being poisoned…drugged…to confuse you or make you lose credibility?”

Kirstie closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s possible,” she whispered. “Or it could be possible that while I was in an altered state of consciousness I remembered the wrong thing and may have told the wrong person, and now I’m in danger.”

“Oh, Kirstie. But here in Jolly Mill?”

The watery eyes opened again. Kirstie nodded.

“You’re saying you think Mara could have been murdered?”

“I’m just saying we’re not immune here any more than any other place on Earth.”

“But you have nothing more concrete?”

Kirstie shook her head. “All I can remember is that part of me is convinced it’s something real. I keep getting this vague impression of a circle, but that could just be my mind telling me I’m going around in circles,” she said dryly.

“Mara was found near the arched section at the bottom of the mill where the mill wheel turns. It has a somewhat circular entryway, and the mill wheel, of course, is circular. Could that be what you’re remembering?”

Kirstie spread her hands. “I wish I knew. I want to know the results of those tests as soon as you get them, but I don’t want anyone else to know you took them.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Some of the color returned to Kirstie’s face. “Thank you. I know how much it’ll cost you. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me and I’m in denial about these blackouts,” Kirstie said, “but I can’t take the chance, not if there really is something wicked happening in Jolly Mill. If no one knows you’ve taken my case, then you’ll be safer. As for Gerard, he can’t be the bad guy because he isn’t even from here. I’ve suspected for years that my husband was befriending Lawson because of the money.”

“You’re no dummy.”

“Lynley told me what Mara said the night you two saw her.”

Megan’s movements froze. “What did she tell you?”

Kirstie looked at her. “Don’t you remember?”

Megan nodded.

“So what did Mara say?”

Megan’s throat was suddenly dry when she swallowed. “I’d rather you tell me.”

“She asked Lynley where Barry was because he’d dumped her like an orange peel.”

“Oh, no,” Megan whispered. “Why would she tell you that?”

“She simply told me the truth. It was a burden too heavy for her to bear alone.”

“You remember the words so clearly,” Megan said.

“It isn’t something a woman forgets.”

“Mara was drunk. I told Lynley not to listen to her.”

“Mara was dead the next morning, and you know how that affected Lynley. Of course, Barry had come in late the night before.”

Megan packed the tubes of Kirstie’s blood and filled out the order forms for testing, then slid the whole packet into the wide side pocket of the scrub pants Kirstie wore. Would the blood have stories to tell? Had Barry suddenly gotten greedy?

Megan looked at Kirstie, and the expression of betrayal in her eyes said she could be thinking the same thing.

“If we divorced, he wouldn’t get any of the money. If I died, he’d get it all,” Kirstie whispered.