Intimate Whispers (6 page)

“What was he like before that? This change couldn’t have happened overnight.” A furrow etched into his brow as he mulled it over. “Actually, you’re right. If I really spend time studying his behavior, he was always a sullen kid. Always brooding over something. Definitely a glass-half-empty kind of person. But then it got bad. So much worse.” His voice took on the same melancholic tone it always got when he talked about Teddy, but it couldn’t be helped. He hated to think of his role in his brother’s downward spiral. “We tried to insist he get help, but you can’t force an adult to do anything he doesn’t want to do and Thad didn’t think he needed help. He just wanted to sleep and be left alone. Only his boat and the ocean ever got him to leave his room.”

The stool scraped against the tile floor when she shifted, causing him to look up.

Her expression said she understood his sorrow and her silence was just as telling. If 29

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nothing else, it prompted him to speak more about his most haunting topic. It came pouring out of him as if he’d spent the night drinking liquor, effectively loosening his tongue. He almost never spoke with his friends about Teddy, yet here he was with a stranger pouring out his heart. Later, maybe when he wasn’t so desperate, he’d analyze why.

“We don’t know he’s dead for certain.”

“What?” Sabrina shot forward. “But…”

“If there isn’t a body to recover, you have to wait seven years to be officially declared dead. It’s only been two.”

“So why would you even assume he’s dead? What happened?”

“He went out on his boat one day and never came back.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead, Jason.”

His eyes felt heavy. The effort to lift them and meet her gaze sapped his depleting energy. “It does if his boat is found in the middle of the Intercoastal. No sign of him anywhere to be found.”

Sabrina’s fingers had been drumming along the bar top. They stopped the moment the words left his mouth. With a glance he realized their hands were only inches from grazing. He battled some urge to slip her hand in his and hold on to it for a little comfort.

She peered at the page again, disrupting the raging thought. “That, by itself, is still not a whole lot of proof. And the fact you didn’t get any messages from him when he had a clear medium for accessing you still gives me reason to pause. I’m not trying to belittle what you’re thinking, but Jason, are you sure you’re not wrong?”

“You told me you speak with the dead. Is that true or not?”

“It’s true.”

“Then my brother is dead, because somehow you gave me a message from him.” Her voice remained neutral, but a shield slipped down over her eyes, separating him from her. “What message? I don’t remember and you still haven’t told me.”

“You said ‘I’m not your teddy bear’.”

If he thought she distanced herself before, a chasm separated them now. Her lips tightened, but just as quickly released the echoing look of frustrating. He knew he’d touched a soft spot in her while she tried to remain neutral. “I’m not your teddy bear?

What kind of cryptic message is that?”

“The kind that I understand.” He bit his lip to stop himself from saying more. From telling her that she didn’t have to understand because he did. That she didn’t live with the guilt. He did.

“If you want my help,” she said gently, crossing her arms, “you’ll have to do better than that.”

“I could have saved him.”

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When he said nothing more, she prodded him. “Go on…”

“He invited me out. He said he had something he wanted to tell me and wanted to know if I had time to take the boat out with him.” Jason faltered again, his throat squeezing tight against the memory, but Sabrina offered him no comfort. “Stop making me pull this out of you. I can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

“I didn’t go!” The words spewed forth, a geyser of pain and guilt. “I lied and made up some story. My last words to my brother were some lame-ass excuse for not getting on his boat just because I was feeling lazy and didn’t share the same passion he did. I just wanted to chill out and watch a game…and my brother died.” She watched him, her expression soft, but no words of comfort were offered. No placating pat on his hand or arm.

“Don’t you see?” he asked, because obviously she didn’t. “If I had gone with him…”

“You might be dead too.”

He blinked back surprise. “What?”

“If you’d gone, you might be dead too.”

“That’s not—”

“That’s one of a million different outcomes for that day if you’d gone. You might be dead too. He might have lived that day only to be struck by a bus on the next. Or he could have done the solo boating thing the next time he went out, instead.”

“But—”

“You’re sitting here so wrapped up in yourself, so full of egotistical pride, that you think you could have saved your brother—who, I might add, you’re not sure is dead—

when in fact, if your brother went out there to commit suicide, he obviously didn’t want saving.”

The longer she spoke, the more he was certain his lungs would collapse from the effort to breathe. She spoke with such casual intelligence, her well-meaning tone, that infuriating look of disbelief in her eyes, he knew she had no idea of what he spoke.

None. No one with a heart could just skewer him like that. She didn’t think Teddy was dead. She didn’t think he could have been saved?

Go to hell.
The words teetered on the tip of his tongue, ready to roll off and sever what little relationship they had. They rocked back and forth, see-sawing on an edge. A never-to-be-recalled damning he wasn’t so sure he was prepared to face.

Sabrina blew out a breath. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Really, I am. If you believe your brother met a tragic end, then I’m more sorry. It’s obvious you feel some sort of responsibility for it.”

“Thank—”

“But,” she emphasized, “as cold as this seems, I can’t let your problems become my own. And trust me, I have my own problems. The fact he may or may not have reached 31

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out to me suggests your beliefs are right. But what does that mean for you, Jason?

Maybe a little bit of closure. At best, some sleepless nights that keep your mind turning.” Her head shook from side to side. “Regardless, I can’t be a part of it.”

“Then what do you think I should do?” he ground out. She was right. Of course she was. That didn’t stop him from needing her. If he could just get a message to Teddy, just make sure he was all right wherever he was…

“Go home, Jason. Live your life. Maybe your brother won’t come home one day, but I hope to God he does. I hope this message was for someone else, but some twist of the universe made it seem like it was meant for you.” Heart breaking, Jason studied her. Again, the compulsion to push her until she cracked, until she agreed to help in whatever way she could, teased him. They could even do things the easy way. Her way. Or, if she forced him to, he could apply a little pressure.

He knew nothing about this woman, other than what he gleaned from a few hours together, and from vicious rumors spread by those who didn’t care if they got back to her. Then again, despite why they’d done it, there was a smoking-hot kiss holding back a frustrated rage.

No. Best to keep things civil. He didn’t know if he needed her. Not yet. Not for sure.

“I wish you could tell me for certain that my brother’s alive, Sabrina. I’d give anything,
anything
, for that confirmation. For the past two years I have agonized and analyzed and scrutinized what we’ve done, making sure we have turned over every leaf, uncovered every possible clue, contacted any and every possible person to make certain we haven’t missed a thing. Not one thing. It took me months to get over the realization he’s not coming back.” He moved into her personal space. “Now that I’ve finally accepted it, don’t you dare tell me to drag that hope back up. I can’t live through it again.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t try to clear through it. “I can’t.” She exhaled. No backing up. No sign she would be intimidated by him. “I’m sorry about the loss of your brother and shouldn’t have implied he’s not gone. But I have no room in my world for anyone else’s self-pity. Your problems are not my problems.” Sabrina looked pointedly at the door. “If you want to leave that paper with me, I’ll see if I can find something of interest in it besides names. Otherwise, I have a busy day ahead of me.”

Clearly dismissed, Jason stood. He snatched up a nearby ballpoint pen and pulled one of the unused napkins toward him. Writing, he said, “Here’s my number. Use it day or night if you find something.”

She took it, but he sensed her reluctance. “Thanks for breakfast, Jason.” He moved toward the front door, the only possible link to his brother lying with a woman who had no vested interest in helping him. Turning, he took in the sight of it and her one last time.

“Day or night,” he said.
Please.

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She never called. Over the next few days he thought often about knocking on her door just to say hello. Maybe slip in an innocent query or two. Some combination of machismo and personal pride kept him indoors and away from his neighbor. It didn’t stop him from peering through the peep hole if he heard a noise in the hall, however.

That yielded nothing as well. Well, except raising his stupid factor a few notches.

Shrill ringing next to his ear woke him almost a week later. Thoughts of Sabrina or Teddy or even Kelly nowhere near his consciousness.

His eyes stuttered open and a dream, some fuzzy nonsense about an island vacation, whisked away in an instant. The phone rang again and his brain managed the command to move his arm. Grabbing it on the first try was another matter. After a little fumbling, he finally managed to grip the receiver. “H’lo?”

“May I speak with Jason Raines, please?”

The woman’s voice was pleasant, but firm. Definitely professional. A cop, maybe?

He didn’t recognize her. “This is him.”

He or him? He never got that one right.

“My name is Laura and I’m calling from Mercy Hospital ER…” Jason bolted upright, all traces of sleep vanished. His post-rest heart rate tattooed like he’d just run a marathon. Before he could voice his concern, she continued, “Please don’t be alarmed.

This is not an emergency. We got your number from one of our patients.”

“Who?” One of his parents? His brother?

“We’re about to discharge Sabrina Turner, but need someone to send her home with.”

He frowned. Why the hell would they call him about Sabrina? “Wait… Is she all right?”

“Yes sir, she’s fine. The doctor would just prefer not to send her home alone this time. We’d hate to see her rebound and have to come back again.”

“Again?”

She hesitated. He knew a little about those privacy laws healthcare professionals had to follow these days, but since she called him, Sabrina must have given some sort of permission already. “She’s here every couple of months. Once in a while, twice in a night though… Uh, can I ask your relationship to Miss Turner?”

“We’re uh…” Neighbors sounded too cold. Lovers not even close to true.

Confidants didn’t work either. “Friends.”

Another lie, really, but she didn’t have to know.

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“Can we release her to your care?”

“Of course.”

He hung up the phone and wiped a hand down his face, scraping against a night’s growth of stubble. Laura hadn’t provided any details on what brought Sabrina to the hospital, and his curiosity gnawed at the back of his mind. Well, they’d all have to deal with him unshaven and unshowered. No coffee either? They’d be lucky if he made it down there in one piece and coherent. Pure adrenaline kept him functional right now.

It took less than twenty minutes to arrive. Once there, he paid the cabbie and trotted through the sliding doors. He had to blink against the bright glare of lights once inside. Some people called the distinct, disinfectant aroma of a sterile hospital off-putting, but he appreciated the sense that no germs would find safe haven here.

Between the fluorescent glow ready to shine down on a single speck of dust, and the bleach vapors strong enough to provide a nice little buzz, he had no doubt that whoever ran this place indeed believed cleanliness was next to godliness.

Signs pointed the way to the information desk and once there, he followed the directory toward the ER. As with the car drive over, during his trot down the pristine tiled floor he kept turning over in his mind why Sabrina would call him of all people.

He passed a bank of empty slots where gurneys presumably went. Myriad electronic equipment, hoses and tubes of all types hung in various locations along the walls. IV poles, spare linen stacks and carts of even more supplies formed neat lines along the way.

“Excuse me, but I’m looking for Sabrina Turner,” he said to a woman walking by in scrubs.

She turned toward an area where curtains kept the occupants in privacy. Beneath the hems, he saw efficient movement by feet of several people. A few of the “rooms” only had one set of legs, so far as he could tell. She pointed. “In bay one. The set of curtains at the very end.”

He thanked her, picking up speed. He pushed through the pale-green curtain, and came face-to-face with a round-faced young woman sitting in a chair reading a book.

She looked up at him, the surprise in her expression probably an exact match to his.

“Oh, excuse me. Sorry,” he mumbled. His feet wouldn’t back up fast enough.

She put down the paperback and started to rise. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry,” he said, halfway through the partition. “I was looking for…Sabrina?” He’d almost missed her, sitting in another chair opposite the woman. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and a faded pair of pants, she didn’t look worse for wear. In the small space, he only needed three steps to reach her. Crouching, he touched her knee. “Hey, what’s going on?”

She dragged her gaze from some spot on the floor she’d been studying to regard him. Then her head tilted, as if she couldn’t quite make out the words someone said to her, only no one was speaking.