A One-Woman Man Page 6

  “Tommy Lee!” Luvey exclaimed in a seductive voice. “I love your pants. Is that the new peekaboo style?”

  Tommy Lee shot a chagrined look at Elizabeth, then pointed his finger at Luvey. “I don’t know what you’ve been telling Miss Monette, but she is supposed to be resting.”

  Luvey stretched her long legs out in front of her and reclined. “How attentive of you to point that out. But don’t worry yourself too much about what we girls have been chatting over. I’ve been very discreet.”

  “That would be a first,” he retorted.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. McCall?” Elizabeth interjected.

  Tommy Lee turned toward Elizabeth. His pique changed to concern. The blonde had a lump the size of a crab cake on her forehead and the beginnings of a shiner the color of a Louisiana catfish under her eye. Her lip was cut, her arm had a swollen, wiggly black clump of stitches and her knees were wrapped in gauze that showed drying blood beneath.

  “I’m fine, Miss Monette, but you look like you’ve been in a train wreck.” He walked a step closer, feeling a tug of conscience at noticing she didn’t have much on under the flimsy, blue-flowered hospital gown, mostly because he was enjoying the sight. “I’m really sorry about today, I didn’t see any other way to get you out from—”

  “No, no, please don’t say you’re sorry!” Elizabeth interrupted, pulling the sheet over her legs. “You saved my life! I was just telling Luvey all about it. If you hadn’t—”

  “Don’t start gushing, Miss Monette. I didn’t do anything any other person wouldn’t have done.”

  “That’s right, Elizabeth,” Luvey chimed in. “Belle Fleur men are famous for throwing themselves out of windows and in front of cars. I’ve been telling Mayor Prince we should put out a special brochure advertising the fact.”

  “Luvey—” Tommy Lee pointed his finger again “—don’t you think you should be getting back to work?”

  “Work’s over, darling. I’m on my way to a party.” She stood and stretched languidly. “But I know when I’m not welcome.” She smiled at Elizabeth, openly appraising the young woman’s charms. “You take care, now. Are you sure I can’t fetch Miss Lou over here for you?”

  “No, no, really. I’ll wait and call my parents later. Thank you so much for coming to see me. It really is wonderful to meet you.”

  “The treat was mine. Anytime a member of the Queen of Midnight court is in trouble, all her sisters need to rally round.” Luvey walked past Tommy Lee, but stopped and turned, a smile on her lipsticked mouth. “Have you taken over for Dottie, like I’ve heard, honey? I thought you always said you’d never be a private hire.”

  “Things change, Luvey. But the fact of the matter is…”

  Tommy Lee pulled at his mustache. He felt uncomfortable about doing this in front of Elizabeth, but he realized he’d better speak now, so that both women would go to bed expecting nothing much from him tomorrow. “I’m not going to be handling Miss Monette’s case, or anyone else’s.”

  “But why?” Elizabeth blurted out, her blue eyes wide.

  “I decided I don’t have the time. I’m going to be tied up with the oyster business, and I can’t see running into town every few minutes to check on things, or people. Besides, I don’t have the temperament—”

  “For god’s sake, Tommy Lee. It’s December. You can’t oyster full-time in the winter! How are you going to earn enough money?”

  “Shows what you know, Luvey. You harvest oysters in any month with an R in it. It’s the shrimpers that work in the summer. So don’t go worrying about my business. I’ll be sure you get your check every month.”

  The harsh-edged exchange drained Elizabeth of any energy she had remaining. She closed her eyes, wishing they would both leave.

  “I’ll be going, darling,” Luvey called out. “You take care, now.”

  Elizabeth smiled weakly as Luvey sauntered out. She noted that Tommy Lee looked as miserable as she felt, which cheered her a little.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Elizabeth,” he began.

  “It’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to rearrange your life on my account. I was trying to tell you I—”

  “Will you quit yakking and hush up!” Tommy Lee yelled while holding both his arms in the air. “Please!” he said, turning toward her. “Let me assure you I’m not quitting Dottie’s business because of our meeting earlier. But while I’m thinking of it, the reason I walked in here tonight was to tell you I’ve filled in Belle Fleur’s police chief, Frank Foley, about the accident today. But I didn’t tell him about Baltimore. I think you should, right away so he can advise the police in Maryland. I also think you should not try to go poking around in Belle Fleur till he gets a chance to look into things. You need to get over to your folks’ in Fairbreeze and stay put for a while.”

  The room became very still.

  “I’m not going to the police in Baltimore,” Elizabeth announced, feeling let down that the reason Tommy Lee McCall had come into her room wasn’t to see how she was doing. This small hurt gave a huffy edge to her voice. “I’m sure what happened in Baltimore has no connection to today. It was just a crazy coincidence. Besides, my reason for moving back to Louisiana was to find some things out about my family, and I don’t think you have any right to suggest I leave. I intend to leave when I—”

  “You obviously haven’t thought real hard about what happened today. If you had, I think you’d see it’s clear you should go home,” he argued. “Especially since it’s clear to anyone with a brain that what happened today wasn’t any coincidence or an accident!”

  Tommy Lee saw the shock and fear register. He was aggravated and light-headed, pain and hunger undercutting his concentration. He threw a look of regret at the empty plates and pushed on. “Look, Chief Foley will explain all this to you.” He felt a wrench in his gut, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of being hungry or because Elizabeth Monette, that strong young lady, was looking like she might cry.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry about anything more happening, Elizabeth. Has Chief Foley been in at all yet?”

  Elizabeth’s color heightened. “No, he hasn’t. I thought the other policeman, Patrolman Duval, took my report in the ambulance.”

  Tommy Lee locked his eyes with Elizabeth’s. “That was just a preliminary. Now, if you want my feelings on this, I think someone followed you, possibly all the way from Baltimore, to Dottie’s office, watched for you to come out, then somehow signaled the car.”

  “But, but why?” Elizabeth gasped. “Why would anyone want to—”

  “That’s what I was just going to ask you,” he replied grimly. “Why don’t you tell me who you know that would like to see you dead?”

  “Dead?” Elizabeth repeated, her voice nearly a shriek.

  He stared at her. Her lips were stretched taut and her face was scrunched up as if she were trying to hold back tears. He gentled his voice, knowing his words would surely bruise, but his exasperation was getting the best of him. “Dead. They weren’t playing touch football out there today. So I need you to do what I’m telling you. This isn’t a matter you can brush off or ignore at this point. Dottie told me that you came here to find information about your birth parents. Could that have anything to do with what happened to you today?”

  “But how could it? I…I don’t even know who they are. They don’t know I’m looking for them—I mean him, my father. My mother is deceased, so I’m told.” Elizabeth stopped and twisted her sheet in her hand. “I haven’t talked to anyone. My folks knew in September I was coming here to be in the Queen of Midnight Pageant and to decide about going for my master’s degree, but they haven’t said much to anyone except maybe to the…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off. Her mother and father had nominated her for Queen of Midnight, announcing, no doubt, that she was coming home in November in time for the luncheons and dinners and dances held in conjunction with that affair.

  The warning letters in her purse suddenly seemed even more omino
us.

  “Except maybe to the what?” Tommy Lee pressed.

  “Just the executive committee.”

  “Who are they this year?”

  She sighed in irritation. “Nine members serve on it, all pillars of the community. The president of the bank, the mayor, the owner of this hospital, Dr. Bennett Heywood, the publisher of the Press Register, lawyers. Surely you don’t think one of them could…?”

  Tommy Lee stared back. He had that feeling he knew too well. The buzzing, itchy sensation up the back of his neck that told him to be on guard. He felt behind him for the gun he’d stuck in his waistband under his jacket. Illegal as hell, now that he was retired, but the hard shape against his fingers made him relax a bit.

  “Anyone is capable of anything, from what I’ve seen in life. It just takes the right circumstances, the once-in-a-lifetime situation, for some things to go wrong.”

  “Or right,” Elizabeth blurted out. Tommy Lee was smiling at her.

  “Or right. Like today. It was right for me to meet you, and everything else that happened was worth it.” He pulled on the sides of his jacket to smooth it, embarrassed that he’d said too much.

  “Thank you. I’m glad I met you today. Superman to the rescue.”

  “I’m just an ex-cop, Elizabeth. Now look, you try and get some rest. I’m going to go find out where the hell Chief Foley is. Soon as he gets his report done, you and I can decide how best to get you over to Fairbreeze, maybe even back to Maryland for a while.”

  “I’m not leaving Louisiana now. Too much has happened.”

  He liked what she might be implying, on a personal level, but he felt his temper heating up that she was taking such a blasé view of the danger. “You’re damn right too much has happened, so—”

  She held up a scratched hand to silence him. “While you are talking to the chief, make sure he understands that I’m not going to let this scare me off. In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. McCall, I’m well past legal age. If I choose to stay in Belle Fleur, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “I noticed, Miss Monette. But eighteen is the legal age in Louisiana, and I’ve got blue jeans older than that. It doesn’t mean they’re smart.”

  “Excuse me. I’m twenty-five, a college graduate, a teacher, and I resent…” Elizabeth allowed her voice to trail off as she realized he was baiting her. His brown eyes were gleaming and a grin was lurking under the mustache.

  She sat up straighter in bed and gave him the look she reserved for really naughty eight-year-old boys. “Thank you for your concern. And for what you did today. But I’m staying put. I’ll talk to Chief Foley and file whatever reports are necessary. If you aren’t doing Dottie’s detective work for her, that’s fine, I can do what needs to be done myself. When I left the office today, I’d already decided that.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. “But in my opinion, nothing happened today that should change my mind.”

  Tommy Lee rested his weight on his hands at the edge of the bed. He moved so close to her that his dark hair brushed the skin on Elizabeth’s naked arm, and she shivered.

  “Nothing except your butt nearly got flattened like an empty soda can on Government Boulevard by some nutcase who’s still out there.” He threw a glance at the night sky darkening her window. “And he knows you, probably even knows you’re in here getting patched up, but we don’t have a clue about him. How safe does that make you feel?”

  Elizabeth felt the heat from his skin and from his breath, saw the muscles tighten in his neck and felt her face warm even more from his nearness. She had an urge to kiss him to make him shut up.

  But instead she pulled her arms tighter around her chest and told herself not to let the fear pumping along with the blood through her veins show in her voice. “Don’t try to scare me, Tommy Lee.”

  For three seconds, which felt a hundred times longer, Tommy Lee stared at her. Suddenly he stood, touched his bandaged hand gingerly to his right ribcage, and sighed. “This conversation isn’t over.” He turned and limped out, his shredded pant waving against his bare leg.

  Elizabeth watched him. When the door closed she shuddered. She felt exhilarated, determined, and exhausted. She closed her eyes, stopped fighting the medication she had taken an hour ago, and fell immediately asleep.

  WITH A JOLT, ELIZABETH woke. Her room was dark and the dinner dishes had been cleared off the table at her bedside. Her heart was racing and a pulse was pounding m her ears as she turned to look at the clock mounted on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. It read 8:25 p.m.

  She had slept nearly two hours! Elizabeth took a shaky breath and felt her forehead. The knot seemed to be smaller. Her stiff body relaxed a bit as she woke up completely. She looked toward the open door. The low sounds of people talking, a metal tray scraping against a cart and the hum of television noise drifted in. Elizabeth wondered if Chief Foley had come to see her yet.

  Slowly she got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Her face was puffy and unbelievably bruised, so she closed her eyes against the reflection and washed. She brushed her teeth and gave herself a cautious rubdown with washcloth and soap, too weary to even think of standing in the shower. Digging through her gym bag, she pulled out clean panties and a pair of sweat shorts, a T-shirt and socks.

  She stared down at her knees and shook her head, aware of a fleeting memory of a blond woman hugging her and saying she was going to be all right. Throughout her life Elizabeth had experienced memories of a blond woman helping her, and had not had an explanation for who the woman was.

  For some reason, she’d never asked her parents about it.

  Now, in her heart, Elizabeth thought it must be her mother.

  The possibility made her smile, though just as quickly the smile faded because there was no way she’d ever know for sure. Wearily she clicked off the light in the bathroom and crawled back into bed.

  Hunger clawed at her stomach. Deciding she did have enough energy to eat something, Elizabeth reached for the pad beside her to signal a nurse, but before she could press it, she heard someone walk into the room.

  A tall, olive-skinned doctor walked toward her. He was smiling. She noted he had a terrible scar, and found herself wondering why he hadn’t had surgery to hide it.

  The doctor was carrying a stainless-steel tray with a napkin draped over it, and she thought that he looked more like a waiter than a physician. The dim light glinted off his wire-framed glasses.

  “Miss Monette?” he said in a voice that carried a strong accent that marked him as a native of the Southwest or Mexico. “Good, you’re awake. I’m Dr. Swan. How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Thank you.” Elizabeth was unsettled by the doctor’s presence. Something about him reminded her of someone else, someone she did not like, though at that moment couldn’t attach a name to him. She looked beyond the white-coated man toward the door, noting he had closed it behind him.

  “Where is Dr. Smiths? I thought she was coming by to see me tonight.”

  “She’ll be by later, I expect, during the ten-o’clock rounds,” Dr. Swan replied. He walked purposefully around the bed and set the tray on the swing-top table beside her. Dr. Swan stared at Elizabeth for a moment, then removed a small penlight from his pocket, hit it against the palm of his hand twice, then flipped it on. “Let’s get a look at those eyes.”

  Elizabeth sat back and stared dutifully into the light that Dr. Swan shone into her left eye, then her right.

  The doctor stood away from her and said, “Uhhuh,” slipped the penlight into his coat pocket and removed a thermometer. “Open up, now. Don’t bite down with your teeth. This will just take a couple of minutes.”

  Elizabeth felt the cool stick of glass slide under her tongue. It surprised her Dr. Swan was taking her temperature the “old-fashioned” way. He hadn’t shaken the thermometer down, or wiped it off with anything. Earlier, the nurses had used the Digitemp machine on the wall, which gave instant readouts.

  Unea
sy, Elizabeth watched as the man looked around the room, glanced at his wristwatch, then at the door. He rocked back and forth on his heels, as if he were in a hurry. She thought it odd he didn’t look at the chart at the end of her bed, but then scolded herself for being jittery.

  Elizabeth’s gaze fell to his hands. They were small and bony. He wore a ring with a black stone and a heavy gold band. His fingernails were dirty!

  She gasped and nearly choked on the thermometer before she managed to pull it from her mouth. A doctor with dirty hands? Panic bubbled in her brain as she tried to think clearly what to do.

  “I don’t think that’s done yet, kiddo,” Dr. Swan said, his eyes sharp behind his glasses. He reached for the thermometer but Elizabeth tossed it onto the tray. She slid from the bed onto the floor, putting the hospital bed between them.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, wishing she could reach the signal pad, fighting an inclination to scream.

  “Why, I’m Dr. Swan. What’s the matter, kid? You feeling a little nervous after your close call?” He leaned toward her and patted the bed, darting a glance behind Elizabeth at the closed door. “Just jump back up under these covers, and I’ll give you your shot and you can go to sleep. You’ll forget all about this in the morning.”

  For a moment Elizabeth felt doubtful. Then foolish. Of course, Dr. Swan was a real doctor. Who else would he be? She was being silly. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m—”

  A loud knocking on the door to her room cut off her words.

  “Elizabeth? Elizabeth, open the door!”

  She turned and stared in the direction of Tommy Lee McCall’s voice. The door must be locked. At the same instant that Elizabeth realized Dr. Swan was the only one who could have locked it, and that there was no good reason for him to have done such a thing, the man leaped across the bed and grabbed her by the hair.

  Elizabeth screamed with pain as she and the man fell to the floor. She kicked and clawed at him, while the pounding on the door got louder.