Carolina Heat (35 page)

She rolled a ruffle between her fingers, then dug deep and gave him an honest response. Very quietly she said, “I don’t like it, either. I haven’t for a while.” Annabelle leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. “It used to be so exciting and challenging and fresh. Now it’s just a job that keeps me in too many airports and has some seriously unpleasant side effects.”

Jonathan rubbed between her shoulders in a comforting circle. “Sounds like you’ve put some thought into the matter. Couldn’t have been easy, after all these years.”

“Exposing wrong-doing all over the world isn’t fun anymore. It’s tiring and dirty and scary. I scribbled my letter of resignation on a cocktail napkin somewhere over the Atlantic last week.”

“Then why? Why are we here in a hospital bed when we could be stretched out on your leather couch in Manhattan eating sushi? Anything could happen tonight. I know you’re at risk. I won’t let you walk out that door until you give me a good answer.”

“Because of Vanessa.” She sat up and used a corner of his sheet to dry her eyes. “This time it’s more than another random assignment. Vanessa was like a big sister to you, too. I still plan on turning in my resignation, but not until I figure out where she is and who did this to her.”

“Fair enough. I can’t argue with that. If that’s your justification for putting yourself out on this limb, I know there’s no changing your mind. After all, it’s the reason I flew down into this mess. Vanessa was one of us. She deserves to be avenged.”

Annabelle started to slide off the bed, but Jonathan nipped her waist. He scooted his legs over so she was perched more securely. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished here.”

She slapped at his arm until he let go. “Don’t manhandle me. And isn’t it time you rested?”

“How does Mark figure into these plans?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me put it a different way.” He fumbled at his side for the control to raise the head of the bed. “Since when do you work with a partner? Or for that matter, a team? You’ve got your own junior crime fighting club all assembled. Nice to know you can still play well with others, but it’s kind of weird. Definitely not your usual
modus
operandi
.”

Annabelle stuck out her tongue. Mostly because she didn’t have a good way to explain how this week had changed her. He held up a hand to keep her from interrupting.

“I’ve had a long, lonely afternoon to work through this, and I’m damn well getting it all out. I care a lot about Vanessa. She’s like family, so it’s fine to put my life on the line for her. But Ashby, Jillian, Mark? They don’t know her, and hell, they didn’t even know you a week ago. Isn’t it flat out irresponsible to drag them into this?”

She laughed, a cold sharp sound with no humor behind it. “Absolutely.”

His hand dropped back to the crisp sheet. “Not the answer I expected. I’ve got two great rebuttals prepared. When you agree with me, it kind of takes the wind out of my sails.”

“Every day, every hour those thoughts bounce around in my brain like a pinball going for the multiball bonus. I didn’t ask any of them to get involved. Trust me, I’ve tried repeatedly to get rid of Mark. I can’t shake him. And Ashby and Jillian are part of the package deal. To be honest, they’re a wonderful surprise.”

Jonathan looked skeptical. “You can’t get rid of Dering? Sorry, it doesn’t compute. I’ve seen you cut senators in two with a single sentence. One of your patented frosty glares can send men scurrying for the door like frightened mice. Try again, and this time hit me with the truth.”

Annabelle slid off the bed and began to pace. “Why won’t you let this go?”

“Too important. Having Mark in the equation is messing with your head in a way I’ve never seen before. Mae West said, ‘It takes two to get one in trouble.’ You don’t need any more trouble right now.”

His criticism was a sharp dagger which plunged deep. Nobody, not even her own brother, could question her professionalism. A slow burn started in her chest and shot towards her mouth. Angry, accusatory words spilled out. “You think he’s messing with my head? Are you saying I’m off my game? Maybe I made avoidable mistakes which directly led to your being poisoned? I couldn’t even breathe when they told me you were in here. How dare you even think I’d do anything to put you at risk?”

“Simmer down!” he bellowed. Then he clutched at his stomach in pain from the effort. A nurse in pale peach scrubs rushed into the room, alerted by the noise.

“Mr. Carlyle, is something wrong?” she asked. She reached to check his pulse but he waved her off.

“I’m fine. Just airing some dirty laundry.”

“You mustn’t exert yourself. And your visitor,” she continued with a steely glare at Annabelle, “should realize a patient requires peace and quiet in order to maximize recuperation. If you can’t follow those guidelines, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Not necessary. It won’t happen again. As a matter of fact, I’ll be leaving shortly.” Annabelle attempted to look contrite, although what she really felt was relief at the interruption.

“See that you do.” With a final glower at Annabelle, the nurse left the room. Pointedly, she propped the door open as she went. Brother and sister glared fiercely at each other.

“Belle, I didn’t mean to set you off. I know you’re doing everything you can to figure this whole thing out. And no, I can’t point to anyplace you’ve screwed up...so far.”

“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He screwed up his face. “Sorry—didn’t come out right, either. I suck at subtle. Don’t know why I bothered to try, especially in my weakened condition.” That nudged a feeble smile out of her. “You’re right. Normally I don’t care who you date. You’re a big girl. But this time it’s different. I’ve never seen you so completely gooey-eyed over a guy.”

The smile turned into a grimace of distaste. “God, you make it sound disgusting.”

“See? You’re not a big fan of the mushy stuff. But something in your face turns to jelly when you talk to Dering. He’s practically in a puddle at your feet. And all this happened in what, less than a week?” He reached over and gripped her hand tight. “I’m worried you’re so upset over Vanessa you latched onto the first thing that came by. Wondering if he’s some kind of sex maniac who has you ensnared. Scared he’s such a big distraction you’ll make a slip that ends up getting you killed. Terrified next week you’ll be back in New York, nursing a broken heart. Petrified I’ve pushed too far, too hard, and ruined the easy relationship I value so much.” He looked at the bed, at his IV. “Maybe it’s the old-fashioned hairdo and makeup throwing me off. Or maybe it’s the drugs. Talk to me, Belle. I’ve got no idea what you’re thinking.

Annabelle squeezed his hand and then kissed him on the cheek. “You are the best brother in the world.”

His eyes glinted suspiciously. “Wait a minute. Back up. You’re not mad?”

“Not even a little bit. What I am is supremely touched by your devotion. Maybe a tad weirded out by the sex maniac thing, but mostly awed by your concern. I love you, Jonathan. We don’t say it to each other very often, but I hope you know it.”

“Of course I do, Belle. And I love you right back. Guess that’s what I’ve been saying.”

“And for a man who’s supposedly half-dead and drugged, you’re amazingly perceptive.”

He looked sheepish. “To be completely honest, I’ve been chewing on this since we were in Richmond. And I’ve had all day to rehearse it.”

“Still. You rose above the standard Y chromosome reticence to broach any topic which could be remotely emotional. Big, grown up step for you.”

“Cut it out.”

She was ridiculously pleased they were back on even footing. “And as a reward, instead of going with my usual knee jerk response of telling you to take a flying leap and stay out of my dating life,” her tone was supercilious at best.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he broke in. “Not getting away with it today.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Annabelle continued smoothly, ignoring his interruption. “Mark and I are crazy about each other. I fought it, fought myself, fought him, but there it is.”

“Please, it’s no secret,” he scoffed. “Anyone standing in the same room as the two of you for five minutes could figure it out. You call that a reward?”

“He wants me to stay with him.” The words came in a rush. “Here, New York, wherever we work out. I know it sounds ludicrous, but I told him I’d think about it. Gave him a laundry list of logical reasons why the idea was absurd, but he says he knows this is worth pursuing. No, strike that, because I should be brutally honest,” she corrected herself. “We
both
feel connected in a way, on a level which is unquestionable. He doesn’t distract me, he enhances me.” She said it cautiously, trying out the way it felt. “He’s sort of like makeup. It makes all the good parts better, and brings out hidden features. Or coffee, the way it makes you more focused and alert.”

“Please stop. Even my well-defined, manly self-esteem can’t take any more of your bizarre comparisons.”

Annabelle whipped around to find Mark propped against the doorjamb. In a rustle of petticoats she hurried toward him, then drew up short. His comment meant he could’ve heard any number of the embarrassing truths she’d spilled. Hot color rushed to her cheeks. “How long have you been standing there?” she demanded.

“Long enough to acknowledge there’s hope for you yet in the romance department.” He bent down and planted a swift, strong kiss. There was no doubt it was both an affirmation and a branding. Whatever doubts Jonathan might have raised, Mark’s possession of her lips reminded her exactly where he stood.

“Admitting we have more than a passing attraction to each other is the first step. Glad to know you decided to tell your brother. Having him incapacitated in a hospital bed must’ve made it easier on you,” he said, tongue firmly planted in his cheek.

“Helped loosen my tongue. Although he’s not as weak as he wants us to think.” She remembered the strength of the arm that kept her on the bed, forced her to listen to all he had to say. She was absurdly grateful Jonathan had gone to those lengths. What happened here in the last half hour was important. She was quite sure she wouldn’t have had the nerve to discuss it with him otherwise.

“Wore myself out on you. I need nourishment,” Jonathan begged. “Don’t I look pitiful enough? Mark, that bag in your arms looks to be bulging with prepackaged goodness.”

“Well, I did lay in some supplies for you. Even bought you a T-shirt. Says ‘Charleston’, but it’s black, so I figured you’d be more comfortable in it than pajamas or a robe.”

In a dramatic gesture of appreciation, Jonathan clapped his hands to his chest. “Heartfelt thanks. Another day in this flapping white sheet they call a gown and I’d go mental. Hand over the goodies.”

Mark held up a finger. “Also found an extremely sympathetic nurse. She’s agreed to monitor you and stand by with a syringe full of Compazine in case you get sick. Which, might I add, is highly likely, given the amount of chemicals, preservatives and fat stashed in this bag. I’m handing this over to her so you don’t OD the minute we walk out the door.”

“How’d you sweet talk the nurse? I haven’t been able to crack any of them. Bunch of by the book, straight-laced staff here. Not a single one would sneak me so much as a crumb of food so far.”

“Lindy and I go way back. Took cotillion class together. She’s got a soft spot for me.”

Annabelle threw her hands up. “Is there anyone in this town you don’t know?”

“Helps that it’s a small town. Unfortunately, I can’t say I know Bellamy or his wife. Hopefully there’ll be a string or two I can tug at the ball. Which reminds me, we’ll have to scoot if we’re going to make it in time.”

“You can’t go yet.” Jonathan tugged his bed table back into place. “I had an idea. There was this blip when I originally ran Bellamy. Nothing big, nothing flashy, but the more I thought about it, the more curious I got.”

Annabelle’s eyes lit up. “What kind of a blip? Are we talking a sealed criminal record? Because it’d really make my day.”

“Not exactly, but it’s disturbing how close you are to being on the right track. Sucks all the fun out of my big announcement,” he whined. With a few deft keystrokes, he brought up the page he wanted, and turned the computer around so Annabelle could see. “Sealed records yes, but not criminal. Turns out Nathaniel Bellamy was adopted.”

“Really?” She drew out the word, savoring the possibilities. “This opens up a door or two. Mark, have you heard anything about this?”

“Ah, not only have I been gone for three months, but I believe your brother mentioned the records are sealed. That infers a certain level of secrecy. Carlyle, should I even ask just how secret the information is supposed to be?”

Jonathan grinned in glee. “This is where I take the hacker’s proverbial victory lap. Aside from parents, both biological and adopted, we’re the only ones who know. Guarantee the press doesn’t have a hint of this, or it’d be blown wide open by now.”

Annabelle dismissed the mention of press. “No, it’s clearly not public knowledge. But Mark, were there ever low level rumors, whispers over too many juleps at the garden club?”

“No idea. Society gossip’s not my area of expertise. Mrs. Haley’s the one you’ll want to ask. She keeps an ear low to the ground at all times.”