Night Hunter (26 page)

Nolan stared down at her. “Whenever you’re ready, doctor,” his voice cracked.

“
Donna is a very lucky lady,” Dr. Saxton said as he removed the gauze. “The angle in which the acid was thrown—underneath, instead of full face —well, when I think of the damage that could have been done…”

The last of it came away.

Donna watched Nolan. His eyes stared blankly at first, as though they failed to comprehend what they saw. Then his entire body seemed to quaver. He blinked, looking away.

“
As you can see,” the doctor said, “we’ve already begun skin grafting on the necrotic tissue where no new epithelization can occur.”

“
Speak English,” Cragg said.

“
On the major burn area, the nerve endings, fascia, and the blood supply, were damaged. Little or no chance of regeneration on its own.”

“
Bring me a mirror,” Donna said.

“
That’s not a good idea,” Dr. Saxton said.

“
If she wants a mirror,” Cragg said, “then bring her one.”

“
I’m afraid I’ll have to pull rank on you, Mr. Cragg. When I feel she’s ready to see, then she’ll see.”

Nolan had backed up a step, pulling his hand from Donna’s. His gaze seemed to flit everywhere except at his wife.

“
I want to see,” Donna said, her voice quivering.

“
It looks unpleasant right now,” the doctor said. “The healing process has just begun. In a few weeks there will be a dramatic improvement.”

Nolan continued to back up.

“
Bring me a mirror,” she cried out.

“
Damnit, this is ridiculous.” Cragg jerked open the drawer on the nightstand, hastily rummaged through Donna’s purse until he found the compact; opening it, he thrust it into her outstretched hand.

The doctor moved to grab for the mirror. Donna twisted away, held it up to her face and looked into it. She had only a glimpse before the compact was snatched from her hand. But that glimpse was enough to make her gag. She gagged again, going into a spasm of dry heaves.

The doctor was bending over her. A nurse readied a syringe to inject her. Her father was shouting orders of some sort. Nolan seemed to have disappeared. And through all this, with her stomach heaving and her eyes tearing, she saw a vivid mental picture of a raw, weeping horror. Her throat and the underside of her chin had been turned inside out.

Out on the sidewalk in front of Dobos’, John pointed across the street to a bar Regina had driven past five days a week for two years. He explained that his aunt and uncle Szabo owned the bar as well as the apartment building.

A breeze had come up while they were inside. It blew wispy tendrils of hair across her face. She brushed the hair from her eyes, and they began to walk.

“
John, do you have any idea who the acid thrower is? Do you think it’s Amelia?”

“
Not really, though I’m not disallowing it. She certainly had that intense drive, determination, and aggressiveness. Corinne had it too.”

“
Someone called the station with a warning—twice. Amelia wanted to be on the show in a bad way. She had nothing to gain by this attack on —oh god ...”

“
What?”

Regina shook her head. It wasn’t enough reason, she told herself.

“
Say what’s on your mind.”

“
Afterwards, she asked about the replacement for Donna on ‘City Gallery’. But, no. Only a crazy person would try to destroy a woman and her career on the mere chance of taking it away from her.” She glanced at John to see him staring intently at her.

“
Who is Donna’s replacement?”

Regina slowed, then stopped. The breeze had her collar tapping gently against the side of her face. She shivered, hugging herself. “I am.”

“
Did you tell her that?”

“
Yes. At lunch the other day. But I think she’s going to try to go over my head and see Nolan.”

“
What are her chances of getting the job from you?”

“
A good chance if Nolan had the power to hire and fire. Which he doesn’t.”

He put a hand lightly to her upper arm and got her going again. She knew now what he meant by the intense drive and aggressiveness of Amelia. She’d seen it in her eyes the afternoon Donna had refused to invite her back on the show to plug her new enterprise. And she’d seen it again that afternoon at lunch.

They walked the rest of the way immersed in their own thoughts. At the glass door of the station, John searched his pockets, found a scrap of paper, and, with a stub of a pencil, wrote down a phone number.

“
Call me as soon as you get home tonight. We need to talk more.”

“
I’ll only be home a few minutes. Kristy, Tammy, and I are going to the hospital to see Donna.”

“
Tammy?”

“
Tammy Kowalski. She’s staying with us temporarily.”

“
That’s probably a smart move. Stay together, don’t go anywhere alone. And keep your eyes open. My commanding officer had a saying: ‘Don’t take that step unless you can see exactly where your foot’s gonna land. Snakes don’t always give a warning.’” He backed up, added, “Call me.”

“
Look, John ...” she began, “the people who should be handling this are the police. I’m not a detective. Are you?”

“
No.”

“
Well, then, neither of us is qualified to track down a criminal, let alone apprehend one. If you want, I’ll go with you to the police and we’ll run this by them.”

“
No,” he said quickly.

“
Why not?”

“
I told you. They won’t believe us.”

“
It’s worth a try.”

“
I’m not going to the police.” A muscle in his jaw worked, jumping beneath the skin.

“
Well then, I don’t see how I can help you.” She turned to go into the building, but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. With determination she added, “It’s the police or nothing.”

He held her wrist for several more seconds, then released her. Without another word, he pivoted and strode off.

He was hiding something, Regina told herself. That relaxed, easy attitude had disappeared. The misgivings she’d had about him before going to lunch today, now came back twofold. What was his true interest in all this? Why had he singled her out?

If he was so gung-ho about helping them and solving the crime, he could do it on his own.

At the main desk the receptionist held out Regina’s messages. She took them, reading as she headed to her office. One message was from Pandora Cudahay, the psychic, returning Regina’s call.

Nolan approached her in the hall.

“
How’s Donna today?” she asked when he stopped.

His face visibly blanched. He ignored her question and in a harsh tone said, “So you’re going through with it? What are you and Max trying to do, blow the whole thing so that when Donna is ready to come back there won’t be anything to come back to?”

“
You know better than that.”

“
We’ve never done the show
live.
Christ, you don’t know a thing about talent and yet you agree to improvise. No one is going to step in and save your ass when you freeze up out there. What you do, good or bad, reflects on Donna.”

“
I know that. I don’t want to take over the show. But I do have to keep it going. For Donna.”

“
Bullshit. You’re doing it for yourself. You got Max on your side. I don’t know how you did it, but I can damn well guess.”

Regina bit her tongue to keep from saying what she felt. She stepped around him and continued down the hall.

At her desk, she lifted the receiver, dropped her purse in the drawer, dialed the hospital, and asked for Donna’s room. The nurse on duty told her Mrs. Lake was not accepting calls or visitors. “She had a little setback today, but she should be better tomorrow.”

Nonplussed, Regina hung up, wondering what had happened to Donna. Nolan would know, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of refusing to answer her.

Forcing herself to put aside her personal business and get back to work, she dialed Pandora’s number.

“
Hello, Pandora,” she made her voice cheery, “it’s Regina. But then you knew that, didn’t you?”

The woman laughed. “You give me too much credit, Regina. There are days when I wouldn’t give two bits for so much as a hunch.”

“
Are we on for tomorrow?”

“
We’re on.”

“
Do you have a vision of me pulling this show off?” The long silence on the line had Regina’s muscles bunching. “Pandora?”

“
I’m here,” the woman answered softly. “You should know, you’re more than a little clairvoyant yourself. Follow your intuition, Regina, it’s usually right on.”

Regina swallowed. “Yes, I will. Well, see you at three o’clock
then ...
in the lounge.” Regina said goodbye and hung up, feeling, for only an instant, a panic-flash.

At two o’clock Tammy unlocked the door to Gary’s house and let herself in. Earlier that afternoon, on the back of his motorcycle, Brad had taken her to Daly City to get her car, and after asking her for gas money, he had raced off with a promise to see her soon.

Now, standing in the foyer, she called out, “Hello?” She knew Gary was at work because she had called him that morning to make certain he had gotten the girls to summer school. But it was possible Amanda was still in the house. Tammy speculated on what she’d do if she came face to face with her husband’s whore. Her “hello” went unanswered.

In the kitchen she helped herself to a glass of red wine, washing down a Valium with it. Then, carrying the glass and sipping, she quietly wandered through the rooms, saving the master bedroom for last. When she opened the double doors and looked in she saw the bed made and the room neat and clean. A woman’s blue robe, draped across the foot of the bed, mocked her.

Tammy moved in a daze to the closet. In the space where only four months ago her clothes had hung, another woman’s filled the void. There was something so foreign about the scene.

She lifted a coatdress in a cobalt blue wool and examined the label. Anne Klein. Cottons and denims by Ralph Lauren. She ran her hand across rich leather and suede. Stroked the soft blends of mohair, angora, and cashmere. Sank her fingers in the fur of an ivory, long-haired lamb jacket.

Tammy slowly backed out of the closet. She stood in the middle of the room, lost and confused. Looking into the mirror above the dresser, she wound her fingers into her hair and pulled hard until she groaned in pain.

What was happening to her life? Everything was falling apart.

It was Tammy’s bedroom, her quilted spread and matching drapes, but different now in both appearance and smell, tainted by someone else’s personal effects.

She stepped to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. She found neat rows of satin and lace underwear in hues of flesh and peach and ivory. Lifting a full bottle of Joy, Tammy sniffed at the stopper, then dabbed the perfume at her temples and deep into her cleavage. She tipped the bottle. She would get Gary back. Perfume dribble out onto the pretty underthings. Gary wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Then, holding the bottle tightly, she swung her arm, shooting a stream of Joy across the room. This was the smell she had detected when she entered the room. It made her sick. This woman with her sophisticated clothes and scents was ruining her life.