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Authors: Maggie Shayne

Darker Than Midnight (16 page)

BOOK: Darker Than Midnight
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“Nothing. You just remember who started it.” She wiped his chest with the cool cloth, then wet it again and ran it over his neck, around to his nape. He closed his eyes, sighed, and she knew it felt good to him. One last dunk and then she laid the cloth over his forehead.

By the time she heard her father's car in the driveway, River's fever was coming down, and he was claiming he felt fine. She got up, went to look out, and noticed for the first time that all the curtains in the living room had been drawn shut. Her dad went around the house to the back door. She watched him go.

River was starting to get up.

“No, no, stay there. It's all right, it's just my father.”

He blinked at her, his brows bending in confusion.

“I told you I called him,” she said. “River, I had to do something—you were burning up with fever. You can trust him. I promise.”

She saw his Adam's apple swell and recede as he swallowed, and he nodded once. “Guess I don't have much choice.” He let himself fall back again, replacing the cloth on his own forehead.

Jax ran to the kitchen and opened the door before her father even got to it. “Come on in, Dad.”

He did, and he hugged her, and then he looked down at Rex and smiled. “My goodness, you're weren't kidding. He is a beauty. Yes, you are.” He knelt and gave the German shepherd his due. “So where's this patient?”

“Come on, he's in here.”

She took her father's hand. He picked up his bag with the other and let her tug him into the living room.

She watched her father's eyes as he looked at River, lying on the sofa. Then he shifted his gaze to hers again.

“He needs help. And no one can know he's here.”

Ben frowned. “So you said on the phone. What I want to know is why?” And when she didn't answer immediately, he added, “Is he some kind of criminal, Cassie?”

She drew a breath. “He saved my life my first night here.”

“How?”

“That pond across the street. I thought it was a meadow, and I walked out onto it, went right through the ice. He came out of nowhere, pulled me out and ended up going through, too. He almost drowned, Dad.” She closed her eyes briefly. “This could be risky for you—but I'll take the fall if anyone finds out.”

Ben's breath escaped him, and though there were still questions in his ever-sad eyes, he didn't need to hear any more than that. “The risk to me isn't an issue, Cassie.” He went to the sofa, touched River's face, offered him a slight smile. “I'm Ben Jackson,” he said. “Does anything hurt?”

“Throat. Head. Stomach.” River seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open. “What doesn't hurt would make a shorter list.”

Ben nodded and turned to Jax. “Have you given him anything?”

“Aspirin, twenty minutes ago. I think his fever's starting to come down some.”

“Okay.” He took a stethoscope from his bag and spent some time listening to River's chest, before helping him sit up and lean forward so he could listen to his back. Then he laid him down again and used a flashlight to look into his eyes and his throat. “You've probably got pneumonia, son. A little water in your lungs, combined with other factors—the cold, the shock on your body.” He turned to Jax. “He should see a doctor, get a prescription for some antibiotics—”

“We can't do that. Can you leave him something?”

Ben frowned, and Jax thought he was really getting worried. But eventually, he nodded. “I can leave you something. Animals take antibiotics, too. Are you taking any medications, Mr….?”

“Not anymore,” River said. “But up to a couple of days ago I had as much Haldol in my veins as I did blood, I think.”

“Haldol?”

“Dad, it's a long story. He was in mental hospital, under extreme treatment, when an attempt was made on his life. He escaped. He's wanted. And I'm trying to help him.”

Ben Jackson didn't react. Her mother would have fired off rounds of objections and questions and concerns. But her father just stayed quiet, considering, taking his time, and when he did reply, it was as if he'd weighed the thousand and one questions that had occurred to him, and picked the most important one.

“What were you being treated for?”

“I took a bullet to the brain in the line of duty. They couldn't remove it without pretty grave risks, so it's still there. It causes blackouts from time to time.”

He nodded slowly. “I see.” He took a hypodermic from his bag, unwrapped it and filled it with fluid from a vial, then gave River an injection, all the while mulling things over in his mind.

He didn't believe what River had told him. Oh, he was convincing, but Jax knew her father too well. He took a packet
of antibiotics out of his bag and set them on the table. “Take two at a time—they're in dog-size doses. Two in the morning, two at night. This is enough for ten days.”

“Thank you,” River said. “I…I'll find some way to repay you.”

Her father looked him square in the eye. “If you hurt my daughter,” he said, his voice gentle and soft, and perfectly calm, “it would be bad. Really bad. Don't doubt that.”

Then he turned and took Jax by the arm. “I want a word with you in the kitchen.”

She sighed, but went with him, sending a reassuring glance at River over her shoulder. In the kitchen, Ben stopped, turned to face her and said flatly, “That man is lying to you.”

CHAPTER 8

J
ax frowned and moved to the farthest end of the kitchen to make sure River was out of earshot. “What are you talking about?”

Her father gave a hasty glance back toward the doorway. “You don't give Haldol for a brain injury. It's a psychotropic drug, Cassie. It's given for serious mental illness—schizophrenia, for example.”

“He's not schizophrenic.”

“And you're a psychiatrist now?”

She made a face at her father, vaguely aware he was more animated, more passionate than she'd seen him since he had come out of prison. “Dad, I need you to trust me on this. I'm telling you he has a bullet in his brain. Not a mental illness.”

“No. No competent psychiatrist would prescribe Haldol…at least I can't think of a reason…” He lowered his head. “Cassie, is this man staying here with you?”

“Yes. And yes, he's a fugitive. And yes, I know how much it would destroy you and Mom to lose me. Dad, he saved my life. He's not a threat.”

“You can't be sure about that. Especially if he's ill and off his meds. Honey, he's entirely unpredictable in this state.”

“Or would be,” she stated, “if he were schizophrenic. He's not. I've checked into his past and there's nothing even close
to that.” She paused, frowning hard. “Tell me, Dad, what would happen to a person who didn't need Haldol and was given it anyway?”

He frowned in turn, his face suddenly even more troubled. “Depends on the dosage. He could become lethargic, extremely docile, weak, unable to focus on specific problems or work through issues in his mind.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you think he was deliberately misprescribed?”

“I don't know,” she said slowly. “It's possible. It might be a good way to mess with someone's mind. Would it have an impact on his memory?”

Her father shrugged. “I suppose it could. It's quite likely, in fact.”

“I need to get my hands on River's medical records,” Jax said, pacing across the kitchen, talking almost to herself. “I need to get the entire case file, both from the state hospital and from his doctor. Am I going to need a court order?”

Her father sighed deeply. “
You
would,” he said. “He wouldn't. Those records are his property, he has a right to them.” He said it so reluctantly she knew he didn't approve of her helping River. And why would he? Frankly, Jax was surprised her father hadn't thrown him out into the snow. And for just a moment, she wondered why that was. Dad was being awfully calm about all this, for a man who'd lost one daughter to a criminal already.

“So he should, what, just show up and demand them?” she asked.

“Not if he's wanted by the law. He's going to have to work through a lawyer.”

“A lawyer would have to turn him in if he knew where River was holing up.”

Sighing, Ben said, “A lawyer can't tell what he doesn't know.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Cassie, don't be gullible. Don't make yourself vulnerable just because you feel sorry for the man.”

“When have you
ever
known me to be gullible or vulnerable to anyone, Dad?”

He studied her face for a long moment, then nodded. “Never,” he said. “I'm not going to tell your mother he's here. It would just worry her. Don't let your guard down, Cassie. Promise me?”

“I promise.”

Nodding, he moved back to the doorway and looked through. Jax did, too, and she saw the dog, head on River's chest as River stroked and spoke softly to him. She glanced at her father, saw his brows rise, and knew exactly what he was thinking. He'd always believed dogs to be the best judges of character. If the dog loved the man, he couldn't be all bad.

“You should get him to take a cool bath. I know your instinct is to wrap him up, keep him warm when he's shivering like that, but the fact is, he's too hot and the aspirin you gave him isn't working well enough. You need to cool him down some more.”

“Okay.”

“Get hold of a thermometer. He wouldn't like the type in my bag.” She smiled at that. “If he gets up over a hundred and two, you'd best call me.”

“I will.”

“Get those antibiotics into him—starting around midnight.”

“Not right now?” she asked.

“No. The shot I gave him was penicillin. It should jump-start things. By midnight he should be able to handle the next dose. Then morning and evening thereafter. As close to twelve hours apart as you can manage. And never on an empty stomach. Flood him with liquids, feed him simple, nutritious meals, but nothing too complicated. He needs to build his strength but he may not have much of an appetite for a while. I'll see if I can locate a vial of vitamin K. An injection of that would do him a world of good. If I can I'll bring it over tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Thanks, Dad. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“It goes both ways, Cassie. Don't you forget it.”

“I won't.”

“He shown any symptoms of trouble? Talking to himself? Making up far-fetched stories? Sweating a lot?”

“He didn't sweat at all until that fever hit him. And his only far-fetched story so far is that he left the mental hospital because someone there tried to kill him. I've found physical evidence that makes that story look pretty likely.”

He nodded slowly. “Even if it were true, he must have been there for a reason.”

“Yeah. And I'm afraid the reason might not have been valid. He might have been set up, Dad, to take the fall for something he didn't do.”

Her father went very still, very silent. He lowered his eyes in a way that set Jax's teeth on edge. But no. He didn't know, he couldn't. “Then you have to find out the truth,” he said.

It stunned her.

Her father turned for the door, then paused. “When you get hold of those medical records, let me know. I have friends in psychiatry. Some of the best in the business. I could have one of them take a look for you.”

“That's on the top of my list. Thanks, Dad.”

She went to him, hugged him hard. He kissed her cheek and left the house, though she could tell he hated doing it.

Jax returned to River in the living room. He sat on the sofa, back propped against the corner between its back and its arm, legs bent, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. He was still pale, but he looked a good deal better than he had before.

“You need a cool bath and a lot of liquids. And I need to go to the grocery store.” She put a hand on his forehead. Still damp and hot, but not as hot as before. “Fever's not as bad as it was.”

“Your father is worried about you,” he said. He said it as if it was the only thing of particular interest to him at the moment. “Really worried.”

Jax nodded. “He worries more than most.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh, he's got reason, believe me. Tell you what, you take that bath while I run to the store, and then, if you're feeling up to it, I'll tell you about it while we go over some more files. Okay?”

“You got more files?”

She nodded. “Frankie gave me a whole packet full. She was digging into your case on her own time, back when it first went down.”

“You're kidding me.”

Jax shook her head. “No. But, um…she's on to me, River. I didn't tell her about you,” she added quickly at the look of alarm that flashed into his deep brown eyes. “But I slipped a little today when your doctor showed up at the station.”

“Ethan is in town?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Said he wanted to be notified if we found you. He seems genuinely concerned.”

River closed his eyes. “I hate putting him through this—I just…I don't see that I have any choice.”

“Neither do I. I referred to you as River while he was there. He wanted to know how I knew to call you that, and Frankie jumped in and covered for me. I think Ethan was convinced. Frankie wasn't, though.”

“Hell.” He lowered his head, shaking it slowly.

“She's on your side, River. She never believed you started that fire. That's why she kept on investigating even after you entered your plea. But she couldn't find proof.”

He looked surprised by that.

“Still,” Jax continued, “I didn't admit anything. And she didn't push.”

River shook his head. “I should get the hell out of here. Too many people know. Frankie, your father…”

“Yeah, well…I'm not entirely convinced you're wrong about that. But River, if we need to move you, we have to plan it out first. Find you a safe, logical place to hole up. It would be stupid for you to just walk out the door without a plan. Especially in the shape you're in.”

He stared at her, drew a breath, let it out slowly. “I'll manage to run my own bath. Go ahead, run your errands.”

She nodded, got to her feet, then turned to him once more. “Will you tell me where you got the nickname?”

He was sitting up by then, looking tired. He pushed a hand through his damp hair, nodding. “When I was a kid, Ethan's dad bought me a canoe. Beautiful thing. Stained wood with a shine so glossy you could see yourself in it. We all went camping together that summer, and Ethan dared me to shoot the rapids with the canoe. Hell, I was never one to resist a dare.”

She smiled. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” He shook his head slowly. “It's a wonder teenage boys survive to adulthood. Anyway, I didn't know there was a freaking waterfall at the end of the rapids. Ethan knew—he'd been camping there before. Thought it was a big joke. He never expected it would damn near kill me.”

Jax felt her smile die. “You went over the falls?”

He nodded. “Yeah. The canoe was demolished, and I almost was myself. Broke my wrist and a couple of ribs—damn near drowned.” He shook his head. “Poor Ethan. I think his father was madder than I was.”

She lifted her brows. “And this was your best friend.”


Is
my best friend. We were kids.” He shrugged. “It's a guy thing. Women don't get it.”

“I bet your parents never let you go camping with him again,” she said.

He shrugged. “My parents were gone by then. I was part of his family.”

“I see.”

She didn't, she realized. But there was something niggling at her. Something telling her there was more here than met the eye. And the entire time she was wandering the aisles of Purdy's Grocery, picking out ginger ale, chicken soup, gelatin, vitamins and extra strength pain and fever medication, the new information was processing its way through her brain. River's best friend had nearly got him killed when he was a kid. And had been in charge of his care when someone else had tried to kill him as an adult. Was it coincidence? Or was there more to Ethan Melrose than met the eye?

“Lieutenant Jackson?”

She turned, shopping basket in hand, and came face-to-face with the man himself. He was impressive looking. Expensive suit, not a wrinkle in it, and not the same one he'd been wearing this morning. Nails trimmed and clean, glasses smudge free, hair neat and gelled enough to stay that way. He cared about his appearance. She filed that bit of information away and painted a smile on her face.

“Please,” she said, “call me Jax. Everyone does.” Not everyone, she thought. River called her Cassandra. No one else called her that. “What's wrong, aren't they feeding you well at the inn?”

“They feed me too well,” he said. “If I stay around long, I'll have to spend a week in the gym when I get home.”

She smiled, nodding in agreement as she glanced at his purchases. Antacid tablets, bottled water. “I hope you're not sick.”

He shook his head. “Nerves. I'm worried about River.”

“I'm sorry. I should have realized. Are you…staying in town long?”

“I really don't know what my plans are. My home is only
an hour away. I just—I just feel like I need to be here, you know? If he shows up here, I'll stay. If he surfaces somewhere else I'll go to him immediately.”

“You really care about this patient, don't you?”

“River's more than a patient. He's also a friend.” He sighed. “There's not much I wouldn't do for him.”

Jax put a hand on his forearm. “I wonder if he knows how lucky he is to have you on his side.”

“It hasn't done him much good, not that I haven't tried.”

“I'm sure you've done your best, Dr. Melrose.”

“Ethan,” he corrected, and he put his hand over hers on his arm. “Jax…would I be out of line if I asked you to have dinner with me while I'm in town?”

She met his eyes, smiled slowly. “You'd be out of line if you didn't,” she said softly. “Tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely. Can I pick you up?”

BOOK: Darker Than Midnight
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