Heart Of A Hunter. Sylvie Kurtz
havenât heard from her in a while and Iâm worried.â
âSheâd call you this early?â
âThis late. Yeah. Iâd take her call anytime, though.â The click of a pen. The shredding of a sheet of paper. Change of subject. Just as well, chitchat wasnât his forte. âWhat do you need?â
âAnything you can dig up on coma and brain damage. Recovery.â The word tasted dry and made him wince.
âJeez, Falconer,â Rory said as she scribbled down what heâd told her. âIâm really sorry. I hope sheâs all right. She has to be a saint to put up with someone like you.â She gave a mirthless chuckle. âIâll see what I can find for you.â
Not a saint, but his angel. âThanks, Iâll owe you.â
âIâll hold you to that.â
AS SEBASTIAN WAS disconnecting, the emergency-entrance doors burst open and his sister-in-law strode in like a witch riding a twig broom. Her ICBM-like gaze zeroed in on him. He didnât stand a chance, so he braced for the blow.
âWhy wasnât I called immediately?â Her question screeched across the room, making the nurses at the desk look up. Her bottle blond hair bobbed with every laser-sure step in his direction.
âIâm just coming up for air myself.â
One of Paulaâs hands beat the air like a conductor gone mad. âFor hours no one answered the blasted phone. I was going out of my mind. Then I had to find out about Olivia from that man.â
That man being Mario Menard, the Aerieâs groundskeeper and handyman. That man was even now installing another layer of protection to keep Paulaâs baby sister safe. Sebastian couldnât figure out if she treated Mario like a nonentity because he was the hired help or because he was always polite to her even when she was giving him her best impression of a third-degree black belt witch. The situation only seemed to get worse after the bankruptcy and suicide of Paulaâs husband and Paula had to get a job.
âYou were next on my list, Paula,â he said gently. After all, Paula had raised Olivia. Paula had been more of a mother to Olivia than their own mother, who hadnât wanted the burden of a menopause baby.
âNext? I should have been first. What happened? How is she? When can I take her home?â
âWhoa, there.â He put up both hands against her verbal assault. âSheâs coming home with me where she belongs.â
Paulaâs eyes narrowed to barbed slits. âSheâs coming home with me. We both know she was leaving you. Thatâs where she was going at that ungodly hour. To my home. Away from you. I figured you were giving her a hard time and thatâs why she was so late. I never thought youâd actually hurt her.â
âI would never hurt her. The hour wasnât ungodly. She left before seven.â
Both of her hands exploded upward. âSeven? That was almost six hours ago!â
âI had other things on my mindâlike Olivia and her welfare.â
Paulaâs hands hitched to her bony hips. âHer welfare? When have you ever bothered with her welfare? She wasnât happy with you. You should have seen that years ago. But no, not Mr. Important Deputy Marshal.â She pecked her fingernail into his chest. âYou were too busy doing your important job to see that she was dying inside. If youâd once bothered to ask her what she wanted instead of assuming she wanted whatever you wanted, then we wouldnât be in this situation right now.â
âPaulaââ
âNo, donât Paula me. Your selfishness almost killed her.â Rusty mascaraed tears dripped from Paulaâs pale blue eyes. Her voice cracked. âI want to see her.â
âSheâs not allowed visitors yet.â
Hand at her throat, she gulped. âHow bad is it?â
âWe wonât know until she wakes up.â
âComa?â One hand covered her trembling lips; the other wrapped around her waist. The drips of tears turned to a stream. âOh, God, no.â
âI have another neurologist scheduled to see her first thing in the morning.â
Paula keened. âNeurologist? Thereâs brain damage?â
Sebastian tentatively reached for his sister-in-law and patted a shoulder. âSheâs going to be okay, Paula.â
Paulaâs eyes narrowed and skewered him with pure hatred. âSheâd better.â
Sebastian backed away. Knowing what to push was only part of an investigation; you also had to know when to let things slide. This was a slider. He headed toward the entrance.
âWhere are you going?â Paula called after him.
âHome to shower and change. Iâll be back.â
Paulaâs gaze rested on his shirt and traced the pattern of Oliviaâs blood staining the white cotton. âWhat if she wakes up while youâre gone?â
âYouâll be there to make your final bid for her to leave me. Thatâs what you want, isnât it?â
Her shoulders bowed and she wrapped both arms around her stick figure. âI want whatâs best for Olivia.â
âThen we agree on one thing.â
EVEN AT EIGHT in the morning, the lights in the hallway outside Oliviaâs room seemed unnaturally bright. Such a dazzle should have cheered Sebastian, made him expect the best. But as the doctor exited the room, the brilliant islands of light only served to rush all that could go wrong at him in a giant black wave. Olivia, you canât die. You canât leave me this way. We never got to talk.
âHow is she?â Sebastian asked, hands fisted deep in the pockets of his pants. Heâd demanded the best neurologist available and been told this beat-up dog was it.
Dr. Iverson crossed both arms over his chest like a shield. Fatigue seemed to sag his aging features into bloodhound droopiness. âPrediction of improvement is difficult at this stage.â
Sebastian closed his eyes for a second. Patience, he reminded himself. âWhen will you know?â
âAgain, making predictions at this stage is impossible.â Dr. Iverson shrugged. âThere are many factors involved in your wifeâs recovery. A loving, stable relationship is a great asset and will do more for your wife than anything we can offer her.â
Stable relationship. A ticking like a time bomb settled in Sebastianâs gut. Would she want to come home? Would she let him help her? He frowned. âWhat does that mean?â
âIt means time is the best healer, and sheâll need all the support you can give her. As soon as she wakes up, weâll know the extent of the damage.â
Damage. He swallowed hard. Trying to ignore the mad ticking, he grasped on to âwakes up.â âSheâll be okay then.â
Dr. Iversonâs forehead wrinkled more deeply. âWeâre optimistic, but weâre dealing with an acceleration/deceleration head injury and you should be prepared.â
The ticking flared, started to burn. That could mean anything. Let him explain. âFor what?â
âIn this type of injury, the head, which was moving forward, came to a sudden stop