"MEGAN." PHILLIP HURRIED EAGERLY toward her as he saw her coming down the hill. "Are you all right? I was worried about you."
"I'm fine." She wasn't fine. She was angry and frightened and she wanted to get away from here, away from Grady. She could feel Grady's eyes on the center of her spine as she moved toward Phillip. "There was something I had to do."
Phillip's gaze was searching her face. "And did you do it?"
"Hell, yes," Grady answered for her as he reached them. "She was fighting off those echoes while I was running up the hill toward the cave. I couldn't believe she could do it." His lips tightened grimly. "And then she came up with an unexpected tidbit or two that surprised me."
"If you can call murder a tidbit," Megan said coldly. She turned to Phillip. "Did you know about what happened there twelve years ago?"
"Of course, he did," Grady said roughly. "Though I admit I filled him in with broad strokes that wouldn't offend his conscience. There was no use making him worry." He glanced uneasily around the deserted beach and then nodded at the Camry parked a few yards away. "Phillip, you drive her back to your house. I'll follow. I want to scout around and make sure that-"
"I don't need anyone with me," Megan said. "And I may not go back to the house. I have some thinking to do." That was an understatement, she thought bitterly. Her mind was whirling and she couldn't process anything in that chaos.
"You'll go back to the house," Grady said. "Or I'll trail behind you until you settle down and let me talk to you. Take your choice."
"I don't have to make a choice, you bastard." She glared at him. "I don't need you. Go ahead. Try to hurt me. Let loose your damn echoes. I'll handle them without your help."
"They're not my echoes," he said quietly. "They're yours and I've never wanted to hurt you."
"Bullshit."
She started toward the Camry.
"Let me go with you, Megan." Phillip hurried after her. "When you calm down, you'll realize you can use a friend in-"
"Down!"
Megan was knocked off her feet as Grady pushed her and Phillip to the sand.
A bullet splintered the glass of the windshield of the Camry!
"Shit." Phillip was crawling toward her. "Get her in the car, Grady."
"You get her in the car." Grady was covering her body with his own. "The gunfire is coming from around the side of the house over there. I saw a glint on metal. We can't risk exposing her to that-"
Another bullet plowed into the sand next to her.
Another bullet followed.
Grady was cursing. "Damn him to hell." He rolled them both over behind the car. "Stay here. I'm going after him."
"Who is-"
But Grady was gone.
Don't just lie here. Get inside the car. She'd left her purse underneath the front seat. She had to reach her cell phone and call 911. She started crawling toward the passenger door.
Another bullet hit the side-view mirror.
Where the hell was Grady?
And where was Phillip?
And then she saw him.
SHE WAS KNEELING IN THE SAND BESIDE Phillip when Grady came back to the car ten minutes later.
"I've been waiting for you," she said jerkily. "He's been shot. We have to get him to a hospital. I called 911, but I don't know when they'll get here."
"Any minute." Grady fell to his knees beside Phillip. "The sirens scared away the shooter. We were playing cat and mouse, but he jumped into his car and took off. How is he?"
"I don't know. The bullet plowed across his skull. He's unconscious." Her teeth bit hard into her lower lip. Hold on. Don't let go. She had to help Phillip. "Head wounds can go either way. Any trauma to the cerebral hemisphere is chancy. He could be okay tomorrow. Or he could be a vegetable. I slowed the bleeding. That's all I can do." Her hands clenched into fists. "I feel so damn helpless. I want to help him, Grady."
"We'll get him the best help, Megan," Grady said. "At the best hospital. I promise you."
"Why would anyone shoot Phillip?" she whispered. "He was good, Grady. Even you couldn't make him into something he wasn't."
"Then obviously he must have been guarded by the angels," Grady got to his feet as he saw the flashing lights of the ambulance spearing the darkness. "They've come for him. It's a bullet wound and there will be questions. I'll take care of them. You go with Phillip to the hospital."
She nodded, her gaze never leaving Phillip's face. She felt as if she were splintering inside. She wanted to scream and pound her fists into the sand. "I won't leave him. I'll never leave him."
PHILLIP DID NOT REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS in the next ten hours.
The next day he was transported by helicopter from the local Myrtle Beach Hospital to the neural ward at Emory Hospital in Atlanta.
"No change?" Grady asked the next morning as he came into the waiting room where Megan was sitting. He handed her a cup of coffee. "Test results?"
She shook her head. "They think there may be brain damage, but they're not sure. He just won't wake up. They say he may never wake up." She had to wait a moment to steady her voice. "He's in a coma. They have him hooked up to those machines to keep him alive." She swallowed. "I don't know how many times I've ordered patients put on life support. But this is different. This is Phillip."
"I'm sorry," Grady said gently. "He's a fine man. He didn't deserve this."
"No, but he got it, didn't he? It doesn't matter if he deserved it or not." She looked away from him. "I've been thinking a lot about Phillip while I've been sitting here. I never had anyone but my mother who cared about me until he came into my life. That's why it hurt so much when I thought he'd betrayed me. I felt… fooled. I thought he'd just been pretending."
"He did care about you, Megan."
"I know that. I could feel it. And it wasn't any of that psychic business. He was… We were a team." She shook her head. "He said he wished I could have been his daughter. I wished that too. My father died before I was born and I never knew him. But no one could have been more loving than Phillip. You can't imagine how good he was to me."
"I can imagine."
"Of course, you brought us together. But you know, that doesn't even bother me any longer. The important thing is that we had those years together." She drew a deep breath. "I have questions but I don't want to think about anything but Phillip right now." She had to talk to Dr. Pretkay, the specialist they'd brought down from Johns Hopkins. Not that they'd given her much hope. It was only one more avenue to explore. "I just have to know one thing. That bullet wasn't meant for Phillip, was it? He was shooting at me."
Grady nodded. "You were the prime target. Though I'm not saying that the shooter might not have wanted to eliminate all witnesses."
"And that night I was run off the highway?"
"Deliberate. Probably the same man."
"Why?"
"Nothing you did. The man who killed your mother wanted to eliminate every member of her family."
"What? That sounds like some Mafia vendetta."
"Molino would appreciate that comparison. He grew up in Sicily in the shadow of the Mafia."
"Molino? He's the one who killed my mother?"
"He gave the order. The man who actually killed her was one of his men, Ted Dagnos."
"Why would Molino want my mother dead?"
"Revenge."
"Revenge for what?"
"It's a long story and you said you didn't want to think about it now. I'll be here to answer questions when you're ready." He studied her. "You've accepted the fact that I wasn't her killer, haven't you?"
"As I said, I've had a lot of time to think sitting here. It was hard for me to accept that she was murdered." She added unsteadily. "But I have to do that. Whatever other madness and mental chaos I went through in that cave two nights ago, I do believe that my mother's death was not an accident. Everything else is still suspect. I have to prove it to myself." She immediately shook her head. "No, you're right. Not now. But I'm going to want all the answers, Grady. You'd better be prepared to give them."
"Any day. Anytime." He added soberly, "Let me know when you hear something more about Phillip."
She nodded jerkily. "It should be soon."
"Would you like me to stay?"
She gave him a level glance. "No, I can't say I like the idea of leaning on a man who's been as deceptive and manipulative as you've been with me."
He smiled. "You have a point. And I don't think you're afraid of me manipulating you anymore."
"I'm not." But it was true she no longer felt the danger from him was immediate. In the past days he had been with her constantly, fast, efficient, arranging everything for Phillip. He never intruded but was always a quiet presence in the background. "And you weren't the one shooting at me at the beach. You may have saved my life. I'm sure it was probably for purely selfish reasons, but you clearly don't want me dead."
"Very clearly." He turned toward the door. "You have my cell number. Call me if you need me."
"Where are you going?"
He shrugged. "You don't want me here, but I have to keep and eye on you. I'll be around. Give me five minutes' notice and I'll be here. I should tell you that I've asked Jed Harley to stop by and check on you occasionally. I don't want you to think he's one of Molino's pet vipers."
"Who's Jed Harley?"
"I've hired him to keep an eye on you. He's a good man."
"How good? In what way?"
"In all kinds of ways. Guns, knives, karate, tai chi. If you don't need him to put down someone, he's very good at keeping you entertained."
"I don't believe I'm in need of a court jester."
"Harley doesn't care what you need. He is what he is. Since you're having trouble enduring my presence I have to make sure you're safe. Nothing's going to happen to you, Megan." He walked out of the waiting room.
She felt a surge of comfort at those last words. She was feeling very much alone at this moment and was filled with confusion and sadness. Grady was not motivated by love or kindness but he wanted her protected. She would need that protection if she was to work her way through this bewildering maze.
"HI. BAD SCENE, HUH? Anything I can do?"
She opened her eyes to see a tall, loose-limbed man in a red Hawaiian shirt standing in the doorway. She straightened in her chair. "No, thank you."
"Sure?" He came into the waiting room. "I'm not just a busybody poking my nose into your business. That would piss me off too. My name is Jed Harley and I've been paid to stick my nose in your business." He dropped down in the chair beside her. "That should make you feel better. Protect and soothe. That's my job."
She stared at him. He was in his mid-thirties, tanned, with sandy hair and bright blue eyes. In that Hawaiian shirt he looked more like a beachcomber than the man Grady had described. "Your bedside manner is very unusual, Mr. Harley."
"Harley." He grinned. "And you're not in bed. Actually, my bedside manner is pretty damn good. I once had a job as an EMT driver and I was comforting as hell. The patients loved me. I just fit the manner to the situation. You're not a lady who would appreciate someone patting her on the back and soothing her. You're very independent."
"How do you-Oh, for Pete's sake, are you some kind of freak like Grady?"
"Lord, no." He shuddered. "Perish the thought. I relish the simple, uncomplicated life. I'm just a decent judge of character. I've been keeping my eye on you and you're not difficult to read. I feel as if I know you already."
"How nice," she said dryly. "Lately, I've been wondering if I know myself."
He grinned. "Talk to me. I'll set you straight." He leaned back in his chair. "Now, I'll shut up and let you relax. No, there's no way you'll relax. But you won't have to put up with my bullshit. Under other circumstances I'm sure you'd find it fascinating but not now. Just lean back in your chair, know I'm here for you and I'll do whatever I can."
To her amazement she found herself doing as he told her and leaning back in her chair. There was something curiously soothing and gentle beneath that brash exterior. "You don't have to be here for me. I'm sure Grady didn't mean you to sit here and hold my hand."
"So I'm an overachiever. I believe that life should be all parties and fireworks and it brings me down when I see someone who's been left out of the party. I have to try to do something about it." He crossed his arms across his chest and stretched his legs out before him. "Now ignore me until you need me."
Bizarre. He was totally bizarre.
But oddly comforting.
She closed her eyes again, her hands tightening on the arms of the chair, waiting.
Ten minutes passed.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
"Megan." Suddenly Harley's hand was covering her own. Warmth, strength, comfort. "I think that's your doctor coming."
Her lids flew open.
"Dr. Blair?" Dr. Pretkay, the specialist from Johns Hopkins, was standing in the doorway. Her grip tightened on Harley's. Pretkay's expression was sympathetic, compassionate and… regretful.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
PHILLIP WAS A SMALL MAN BUT HE LOOKED even slighter in the white hospital bed.
"Hi, Phillip," Megan said unsteadily as she moved toward the bed. "I'm not sure if you can understand me. All those specialists can't agree on what coma patients are able to process." She took his hand. It was cool and unresponsive, completely unlike the warm, affectionate grasp to which she was accustomed. "I thought I'd give it a try. If you can understand what's going on here, you may feel helpless and that sucks." Don't start crying again. "They say they can't do anything to help you right now. So we're moving you to a private nursing home and you'll have wonderful care. I may not be able to visit you right away, but I'll never stop looking for a way to get you well." She swallowed and whispered, "I love you. Thank you for all the years, Phillip." No, that sounded like good-bye and she would not give up on Phillip no matter what Pretkay said. "But we'll have more years together. Just give me a little time to work it out." She bent and brushed a kiss on his forehead. "See you."
She moved quickly for the door but she was blinded by tears by the time she reached the hall.
"Hey, easy." Grady was pulling her into his arms, cradling her. "Don't fight me. You need a shoulder to lean on and I want to be the one to help, dammit."
She didn't fight him. He felt warm and strong and alive. She needed that life after facing the half death that Phillip was experiencing. "Pretkay said he probably wouldn't ever wake up. He wanted to know if I wanted to take him off any life support." She buried her face in his shoulder. "Screw him. No way. Phillip hasn't even had a chance to fight his way out of this. I haven't had a chance to fight for him."
"Shh." Grady was stroking her hair. "You're right. We'll take care of him. And we'll find a way to help him."
"Damn right." She pushed away from him and wiped her eyes. "And the first thing we'll do is find that son of a bitch who shot him. I don't want that bastard prancing around when Phillip is lying there like a zombie."
"I've been working on it." His lips tightened. "Don't look so surprised. I'm the one who sent Phillip to you. There wasn't any question that I wouldn't go after that shooter. What do you think I was doing while you were sitting in that waiting room?"
"Who is it?"
He shook his head. "I'll know soon."
Her lips twisted. "Crystal ball?"
"No, Atlanta Police lab. There were tire tracks in the sand from his truck and fiber on the porch where he was kneeling."
"That's not much."
"It's a beginning. I have contacts with the CIA and they'll put pressure to hurry up the investigation. And I called Michael Travis and he said that he knew someone who might be able to help."
She remembered that name. "Phillip said there was a Michael Travis who headed a Psychic Investigative Group in Virginia. I thought you said no crystal ball."
"It's the truth. Michael was talking about Atlanta City Hall. His contacts aren't limited to-"
"Freaks."
"Call it what you like." He looked her in the eyes. "No one has a better right."
He meant because she was one of them, she thought wearily. "I won't admit that yet."
"What? Not even after what you went through in that cave?"
"It could still be a mental problem. I'm a very pragmatic person and I have no evidence that would prove otherwise."
"The hell you haven't," he said roughly. "Accept it, Megan."
"When I can prove it to myself. I don't believe I'm schizophrenic. But do I trust what my instincts tell me and go against my logic? Do I go against what my mother told me? But what you did to me at the zoo has no logical explanation. Phillip believes what you told me and he'd never steer me wrong. I just don't know." Her hands clenched into fists. "You said that the voices are usually connected to the scene of a particular emotional disturbance. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"This hospital must be overflowing with those echoes. Why aren't I hearing them?"
"I'm helping a little."
"A little?"
He nodded. "You're doing a lot of blocking yourself. That's pretty incredible. It's got to be instinctive. I didn't have a chance to teach you."
"Why would you want to teach me? It would have taken away any threat you might be able to wield over me."
"True. I considered that possibility. However, eventually you would come into your own and it's better if you help me willingly."
"Come into my own?" she repeated bitterly. "Oh, yes. This great gift that could send me around the bend like it did Phillip's wife."
"She wasn't anywhere near as strong as-"
"I don't want to hear it." She cut him off. "Not now. I have to go home and check on something. Afterward I have to pack up Phillip's belongings." She shuddered. "They do that after someone dies. He's not going to die, Grady. And he's not going to go on living in that silent hell." She moved down the hall. "I have to find a way…"
THE COMPUTER SCREEN GLOWED blue in the light of Megan's desk lamp on the desk in the library.
Do it. Don't just stare at a blank screen. Tap the World Wide Web of information. You could find anything on a computer if you looked long enough. Or at least it would tell you where to go to find what you wanted.
But she didn't really want to know if her mother had lied to her.
Bite the bullet.
Concentrate. Remember the only echoes that had come clear.
Hiram.
A long scream, fading…
A woman falling?
John, my baby…
What baby?
Pearsall. A woman done wrong by a man named Pearsall.
She didn't even know during what time period those episodes happened. It was pitifully sparse information to go on, she thought in frustration. Of course she could go back to the cave and try to let the voices return.
Yeah, sure. She was going to put herself through that again? No way.
She typed "Myrtle Beach" in to the search engine.
She would dip into the local newspaper files and see if that babble was the echoes that Grady claimed them to be. Considering those references were so scanty as to be close to nonexistent. Lord knows how much time it was going to take her.
It didn't matter. She'd stay with it for as long as it took.
GRADY LEANED BACK IN THE DRIVER'S seat, his gaze fixed on the light streaming out of the library window. She had been up all night and he had an idea what she was doing.
Go ahead, Megan. Work it out for yourself.
I'll be here protecting your back.