“Wake up! Damn you, wake up!”
It was sort of like déjà vu, only instead of a rich, deep, sexy British accent urging me awake, it was my sister’s shrill voice bitching at me. And she was slapping me!
“All right, all right,” I muttered, and struggled to sit up while at the same time pushing her hand away from my face. “I’m fine. Stop beating me.”
“Oh, thank God.” She grabbed me in a hug so tight it cut off my air supply. I was about ready to pass out again, but I managed to smack her arm hard enough to break the contact.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” she cried, as she stood up. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your eyes roll back and then see you keel over? You scared the hell out of me! I almost fainted myself.”
“All right, calm down,” I said, pushing myself up off the floor until I was standing again. The effort cost me. I slid onto a side chair and took some gulps of fresh air. “What happened to Derek?”
“Derek?”
“The phone.” I sighed, bent over, and covered my face with my hands. Oh, man. I just passed out while talking to Derek. “He’s going to kill me.”
“I might help him with that,” she grumbled as she reached for something on the floor.
“Hey, I have a little problem with blood. Sorry.”
Savannah handed my phone to me. “Here’s your damn phone. He hung up.”
I groaned. I could just imagine what Derek was thinking. He probably guessed that I was out cold, which meant he was on his way over here, which meant that I was going to hear all about this for days. “Okay, give me a break here. At least we found the book. And Peter.”
“Yes, and I think you owe him an apology.”
“Who? Peter? Savannah, he’s dead.”
“Which means he’s not Baxter’s killer.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” The fact was, Peter still could’ve killed Baxter, but in the interest of sisterly agreeableness and the fact that Peter lay bloodied and dead in the bathroom, I conceded. For now.
“Oh, wait,” I said, suddenly realizing something. “I’d better check to make sure he’s not still alive.”
“What did you say?”
I grimaced. “He looked dead, but I didn’t check. He could be alive.”
“What?” she shrieked. Oh, dear God, that really was horrifying. “What are you talking about? Are you crazy? You said he was dead in the bathroom!”
“Shhhhh,” I said, grabbing my head. Her voice had reached an octave only dogs could usually hear. “The whole place will hear you.”
“I don’t care!” She stood before the closed bathroom door, hesitating. “Come on. You’re coming in with me. We should check, but I’m not doing it alone. And you’d better not faint again, because I’m not going to catch you.”
“Okay, okay.” But my throat was suddenly dry as sand. I snatched a fresh bottle of water off the console in the living room, popped the top open, and started gulping it.
“Those aren’t free, you know.”
“Not important right now.” I grabbed her hand. “Let’s do this.”
We walked steadily into the bathroom. Peter lay on the floor at an odd angle, as though he had fallen backward after being attacked. Streams of blood had dried on his cheek and temple from the wound on his head. He’d been bludgeoned severely.
In the corner of the bathroom floor was a heavy-duty steel mallet, the kind used for tenderizing meat. It could be one of Peter’s own cooking tools. I crept closer and noticed there was dried blood caked on its surface. It had to be the weapon someone had used to hurt Peter.
I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. No way was I going to faint again. Using every last ounce of courage I possessed, I knelt and pressed my fingers to Peter’s neck. My hand was shaking, so I had to try again. After a few long seconds of concentration, I thought I felt something. Then I felt it again. A pulse. “He’s still alive! Barely. Call nine-one-one for an ambulance.”
Savannah let out a cry and ran to the bedroom phone to dial the emergency number.
I stayed with Peter. I didn’t want to shake him or move him, so I just touched him and hoped he could hear me. “Peter, we’ll get you taken care of. Don’t die, do you hear me? No dying. That’s an order.”
He moaned. It was the faintest sound, but I heard it and rejoiced.
“That’s right, mister,” I said. “You’re going to be all right. Just stay with us.” Tears sprang to my eyes and I brushed them away. There was no time for that now. “Stay with us.”
Oddly enough, now that I knew Peter was still alive, I didn’t even notice all the blood caked on his skin. All I could see was his handsome face. All I could concentrate on was the thready beat beneath my fingers.
“They’ll be here in just a minute,” Savannah said when she rushed back into the bathroom. “Union Square has its own emergency services.”