Silent Awakening. Elaine Barbieri

Silent Awakening - Elaine  Barbieri


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doing here?

      Hadden pulled back without being seen, then stared at Natalie lying so still in the hospital bed. Her long, dark hair was stretched across the pillow in sharp contrast with the stark white of the bed linens and the bandage she wore on her forehead. She was petite, silent, her small features delicately composed, the long, black fans of her eyelashes lying like lush crescent moons against her pale cheeks. Surrounded in immaculate white, the pale beam of light shining down on her in the semidarkness forming a gleaming halo around her head, she looked like a celestial being—innocent and so completely pure that she stole his breath.

      He paused at that thought.

      But Natalie Patterson wasn’t pure, and she wasn’t celestial. She was the lab technician who had foiled his perfect revenge and because of her, the entire NYPD would soon be out searching for him.

      Hatred surged hotly through him as Hadden turned abruptly and started back down the hallway.

      He’d be back.

      Chapter Four

      The sound of morning activity in the hospital corridor beyond Natalie’s door woke Brady abruptly. Angry with himself for having dozed, he glanced at the bed a few feet away where Natalie slept, breathing easily. Her color had improved and her features were relaxed. Her sleep appeared to be natural and presently devoid of the nightmares that had awakened her several times during the night.

      Brady rubbed his palm across his stubbled jaw, then ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to restore a sense of order to his disheveled appearance as he pushed himself upright in the chair. He recalled Natalie’s incoherent mumblings jarring him from his semisleep during the night and the sudden panic that had snapped her eyes open. He had moved to her side spontaneously. He had comforted her, telling her she didn’t need to be afraid, that he was there and he’d protect her. He had whispered reassuringly until her breathing became normal, and he had suffered a sense of helplessness when she awoke again, tortured by the same frightening torments. The experience had been bittersweet as she turned to him in her terror; yet as confusing as his feelings had become, he was certain of one thing—he would protect her with his life.

      His attitude toward her had changed drastically. He couldn’t be sure if guilt at his misjudgment of Natalie was responsible; if having misjudged her once, he was anxious not to repeat the same mistake, especially when the stakes were so high. Or if his reaction to her utter helplessness was what had kept him sitting at her bedside, holding her hand until she fell back to sleep again.

      It annoyed him that he’d been unable to remain awake all night, but he had consoled himself that he had been immediately alert each time someone stepped into the room, that he had diligently checked all medication and IV changes that had been conducted during that time—all of which, he recognized, would be a complete waste of time if Natalie woke up and recanted her story about being pushed into the street.

      Yet, he somehow knew she would not.

      Despite Dr. Weiss’s warning, there had been something about Natalie’s adamancy, and the look in those heavily lidded gray eyes that made him believe her when she repeated, He said my name.

      He supposed he might not have given those four words much credence if not for the chilling fax he had received from Manderling Pharmaceuticals and his realization that only a madman could be guilty of the atrocity Dr. Hadden Moore was suspected of having committed. The knowledge that Moore might still be in the city was a major concern. Brady knew that if Moore were guilty, he would realize that having identified Candoxine as the cause of the Winslow barbecue deaths, Natalie had set the police on his trail. The possible repercussions of that scenario, considering Natalie’s “accident,” were too disturbing to ignore.

      Truth is stranger than fiction. Brady was too familiar with that maxim to disregard it.

      Brady glanced back at Natalie, recalling the way she had clutched his hand until she fell asleep—so tightly that she had surprised him with her strength. She was so slight that she—

      Natalie’s eyes fluttered open, interrupting Brady’s thoughts. She stared at him a moment before she said, “Are you still here?”

      “Yeah.” Brady moved closer to the bed. “Something wrong with that?”

      “You were here all night, weren’t you?”

      Brady nodded.

      “Why?”

      “Let me see.” Brady moved closer still and looked down into her pale face. “You had an accident on the street.”

      “It wasn’t an accident.”

      “And you said it wasn’t an accident, that somebody pushed you.”

      “Somebody did.”

      “Maybe I believed you and figured you’d need somebody to stay with you for a while.”

      Natalie searched his face, frowning.

      “And maybe I stayed because I owe you an apology.”

      “An apology…”

      “Because I was tired and irritable that first day I met you and I acted like an ass. Because I was wrong and needed to tell you I was wrong.”

      “What about the second day?”

      Brady smiled. “I was an ass then, too.”

      Natalie nodded.

      “And I also wanted to tell you that—”

      A sound at the door turned them toward Dr. Weiss as she stopped still and said, “Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?”

      “No.” Brady stood up. “Come on in.”

      Dr. Weiss glanced between them as she approached the bed. She said, “Well, you look a lot better today, Natalie. That’s more than I can say for your friend here. How do you feel?”

      “Somewhat better.”

      Brady started toward the door and Dr. Weiss said, “I’ll be done here shortly, Detective. Also, there’s a uniformed officer waiting for you at the nurses’ station. He said you’re expecting him.”

      “Right.”

      “Brady?”

      Brady looked back when Natalie called after him with uncertainty. He responded to her unasked question. “I’ll be back.”

      It occurred to Brady as he stepped into the hallway and the officer at the desk started toward him that he suddenly felt like smiling.

      Why?

      The answer to that was embarrassingly simple. It was because Natalie hadn’t wanted him to leave.

      BRADY PULLED THE DOOR of the precinct station house open and strode inside, squinting as his eyes acclimated to the darkness within. He swore under his breath as he tripped over a carton of snack cakes beside the vending machine that was being refilled. He glared at the service attendant, mumbled an apology and moved the carton out of his way, then turned toward the squad room in the rear where Wilthauer was waiting. He was late. It had taken him longer than he had expected to get cleaned up, change his clothes and negotiate the traffic for his morning meeting. The fact that Wilthauer was waiting was already one count against him.

      In Wilthauer’s office minutes later, with Stansky standing silently nearby, Brady insisted, “You know damned well Natalie Patterson will need protection, at least until she leaves that hospital. She can’t protect herself and since she’s the possible target of a homicidal maniac and somebody already tried to push her into the path of an oncoming car, I’d say we have no choice.”

      “Possible target of a homicidal maniac? Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard on this, Tomasini? I don’t have the statistics, but I’d say similar, unfortunate accidents like the one that happened to Patterson, have been known to occur more often than we care to admit in this city.”

      “It


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