“Is Quentin here?” Melba asked.
Tom could tell she’d hoped to find the lawyer at home. He shook his head. “If the police found him here, he’d lose his law license. I can’t let that happen, especially now.” Tom eyed the Walmart bag in her hand. “Did you get the phones?”
“I bought four.”
“Thank god. Let’s get one activated. I need to let Walt know where I am. He gave me a kind of code, and I can text him where we are using that.”
“How did Captain Garrity’s meeting go?” Melba asked. “With that state police man?”
“I don’t know yet. Apparently, that fellow’s got his own problems, and with the same people who are trying to kill Walt and me.”
Melba shook her head almost hopelessly.
“Can you open up one of those phones for me, Mel?” Tom asked. “My arthritis is kicking up bad.”
“Sure.” She got out one of the plastic packages and began to explore its seams. “I need to tell you something, Doc.”
“What?” he asked, sensing trouble.
Melba looked up, her eyes filled with guilt. “Dr. Elliott and I went and talked to Penn.”
Tom’s chest ached suddenly, and his breath went shallow. “Why did you do that?”
“We were afraid something had happened to you. Dr. Drew had been calling his lake house all morning, and nobody picked up. We figured the best thing would be to send Penn over there.”
“Did you tell Penn where I am now?”
“No, no. I didn’t tell Dr. Elliott, either.” Melba was clearly in distress. “I promised Penn I would call him if you got back in touch with me, but . . . I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
Tom placed a nitro tablet under his tongue. “Okay,” he said, trying to breathe deeply. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Melba said. “This is hard, Doc. I’m scared for you. I knew I shouldn’t have left you before, and I was right. It’s a miracle you’re even standing here now.”
Tom gave her a reassuring smile. “You know I’m hard to kill, Mel. I’ve outlived at least two serious diseases already.”
“I’m not talking about disease.”
“I know. But . . . this is one of those times when we just have to hold our nerve. I know you don’t understand, but you’re better off not knowing more than you do. I’m asking a lot of you, I know. And you can go back home, now that you’ve brought me these supplies. I’ve already asked too much.”
Melba sat on the arm of the sofa, folded her arms, and looked at him like an angry sister. “You think I drove out here just to leave you with no help? In the shape you’re in? I know you know better than that.” The nurse sighed and looked around the opulent living room. “Lord, Quentin Avery’s got more money than anybody has a right to. You can’t make this kind of money doing the right thing.”
“Maybe not,” Tom conceded. “But he’s done more good for more people than most of us ever will. I figure he’s earned the right to sell out just a little at the end of his life.”
Melba gave Tom a chiding look. “That’s not how it works with right and wrong, Dr. Cage. And you know it.”
Tom looked back at her for a few seconds, wanting to explain himself. But in the end he turned away without speaking.
CAITLIN WOKE FROM A dead sleep on her office sofa with no idea what time it was. She’d switched off the ringers on her phones, but still her dreams had been troubled: she’d been frantically treading cold, black water as dark figures with yellow eyes floated around her in an obscene ballet. Cypress knees like gnarled wet knuckles jutted from the water, giving her the feeling that a great hand waited to snatch her below the surface, and when she looked up to escape this sight, she saw twisted limbs and feathery leaves hanging over her like the hair of some terrible witch.
“Caitlin?” said a voice.
Someone poked her shoulder, then shook her, and bright light burned away the dark world that had enveloped her.
Jamie Lewis stood beside the sofa, staring down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked, starting to kneel.
“Don’t get too close. I have bad breath.”
Lewis straightened up. “Gary Valentine’s on the landline for you. He said he had a private message for you.”
“Okay,” she said, rolling groggily off the sofa. Gary Valentine was the computer technician she’d dispatched to watch Drew and Melba after Penn told her that both had seen Tom and then lied about it.
“I told him we didn’t have time for games, but Gary still wouldn’t tell me what he wants.”
“Blame me, not him.” Caitlin got to her feet and gave Jamie a smile that triggered a shock of pain from the cheek burn. “Some things you don’t need to know. Hand me the cordless phone, would you?”
Jamie flipped her the bird, then picked up the phone and gave it to her. “Don’t do anything crazy, okay? You nearly died last night. Let’s not go for an encore.”
Caitlin motioned for him to get out.
From the door, Jamie said, “Oh, did you see my text about the state police thing?”
“No.”
“Man, you really were out. The Advocate is reporting that a fourteen-year-old male prostitute from New Orleans claims he was paid for sex by Colonel Mackiever on multiple occasions. Mackiever’s home has been under siege by the media. Some officials are already calling for his resignation.”
“Forrest Knox has got to be behind that. Stay on it, Jamie. Keep digging into Knox’s background. You’ll find something we can use against him.”
As Jamie went out, she thought about Forrest Knox. The man was obviously making an all-out effort to destroy his superior and consolidate his own power. And that would put him in the best possible position to help the Double Eagles survive the attack by Penn and Sheriff Dennis—not to mention protect himself from Mackiever or the FBI. Pushing these thoughts from her mind, she put down the cordless phone, took her Treo from her pocket, and called Gary Valentine.