Deception (Southern Comfort) (33 page)

Justin sighed, closing his eyes to embrace the darkness. 

Just before a more deadly kind of darkness embraced him.

VINCENT
Santone wondered why he hadn’t thought of this yesterday.  Visitors bearing flowers might be like background noise in a hospital, but doctors were the top of the food chain and therefore weren’t questioned as to their business.  He’d strolled out of the locker room wearing that young doctor’s lab coat, immediately sensing the wisdom of his impulsive decision.  It wasn’t like him to act without forethought, but sometimes an opportunity presented itself which was simply too ripe not to be plucked.  There’d been enough upheaval in the staff lately that it was impossible to know who was who, and he found himself feeling grateful to whoever’d brought on this virus.  Not only had it kept his idiot nephew from killing that nurse and thereby giving him and his partner a perfect set-up, but it made the job he was currently undertaking that much easier to carry out.  Even the latex gloves covering his hands were an expected medical accessory.

When Vincent arrived on the proper floor he was alarmed to discover some sort of commotion.  The voices of several medical personnel could be heard raised over the din of a wildly screeching monitor, and there came the sound of metal clanking against metal, a high pitched whine and the shout to “clear!”  Vincent realized that in actuality he couldn’t have had better timing.  One of the patients had obviously gone into cardiac arrest, and the staff was therefore distracted by the incident to the point that the hall was completely deserted.  He slipped past the room, hazarding a glance that told him the nurses and doctor were most certainly otherwise occupied, scurrying like fire ants after the disturbance of their mound, and allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction that things could not have gone better.  Tonight was one of those times when everything just fell into place. 

He’d be on the corporate jet, enjoying a glass of wine and looking forward to a night spent in his own bed before Martin’s body was cold.

Kismet, he thought, pausing at the door to the meddlesome bartender’s room.  Sometimes the cosmos just smiled on you.  

SAM
picked Snickers’ hair off the cream-colored expanse of her cotton sweater as she rode the elevator to her brother’s floor.  The little dog had been overjoyed to see her, though Karen had been a bit reserved.  Sam knew very much how the other woman felt, so hadn’t pushed.  Karen would have to come to terms with what happened in her own time and in her own way, but Sam would be there when she was ready to talk.  Right now Karen was a bit like an injured animal that needed time alone to lick her wounds.

Sam glanced at her watch, realizing that the paperwork she’d gotten caught up in had put her here later than she’d hoped, but certainly earlier than her usual visits.  She had a thick volume by her brother’s favorite suspense writer in her bag, and since Josh would be working late tonight, a whole evening in front of her to settle in with it.

Sam went dizzy again, as she had numerous times throughout the day, just thinking about all that had happened.  Within the space of twenty-four hours she’d gone from being resigned to the fact that the only man she’d ever truly cared for was involved in a long-term relationship with another man, to becoming engaged –
engaged
– to that same man.  With the possibility, however unlikely, that she was carrying his child.  Sam’s hand fluttered to her stomach.  The mix of overwhelming joy, confusion and trepidation she was feeling had really done a job on her nerves.  Throw in everything that was going on with her brother, the empathetic ache she felt over what had happened to Karen and the unsettled anxiety she had over the current state of her own safety and she was pretty much one big, exposed nerve. 

But on the plus side, if she told Donnie about everything she’d experienced in the past week the shock alone might be enough to wake him.

Sam’s heart lurched when she stepped off the elevator and heard the commotion coming from down the hall.  Donnie, she thought frantically, breaking into a trot.  She hoped he wasn’t experiencing another seizure.

But as Sam rounded the corner she saw that the disturbance was taking place in another room.  Glancing in, she saw a doctor placing paddles from a crash cart on a young woman’s chest while the nurses moved about frantically.  Her racing heart settled then sank, deflated by guilt at her sense of relief.  God help her.  She was so happy that it wasn’t him.  She’d give anything to have him get up and walk out of here.

When she entered Donnie’s room she was startled to see the legs and feet of a physician peeking out from beneath the privacy curtain drawn around her brother’s bed.  Probably Donnie’s doctor, with whom she’d been trying to speak for days. 

“Dr. Munoz?” she called out, moving across the room toward her brother’s little cubicle.  “It’s Samantha Martin.  Looks like I finally caught up with you.”

The figure behind the curtain went still. “Visiting hours are over, Miss.  I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Sam stopped in her tracks, because no one associated with her brother’s care had hassled her about visiting hours for quite some time.  They all just sort of looked the other way, knowing that she got here whenever she could.  Maybe this was a new man, someone she hadn’t yet become acquainted with. 

“I’m sorry.” She moved closer, just outside the curtain.  “I don’t believe we’ve met.  I’m Donnie’s sister, Samantha.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about my brother.”

There was a moment of silence, and Sam wondered if she’d annoyed the man.  Some doctors were prickly about talking prognosis in these kinds of cases, because they had to admit that there was much they didn’t know.  Not to mention the fact that she was ignoring his earlier warning.  But she’d learned a long time ago that the meek might inherent the earth, but only because they’d been trampled into it by the bold, so she pressed on, placing her hand on the curtain.  This was her brother they were talking about. She’d annoy God himself if she had to.

She was just about to edge the curtain back when it was whipped from beneath her hand.  The heavy fabric rubbed a burn into her palm and she shook it, stepping back in surprise.

An older man stood there, a deep scowl creasing his face, but Sam refused to be intimidated by his displeasure.  She stuck out her hand, despite the fact that it still throbbed painfully, and flashed her most disarming grin.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she insisted.

The man looked at her, and then flicked a glance at her hand, annoyance stamped all over his features.  With obvious reluctance he held up his own gloved appendage.  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake,” he said finally.  “With all of the illness going around, we’re trying to keep cross contamination to a minimum.”

“Oh.  Of course,” Sam agreed, dropping her hand to the top of her bag and doing her best not to feel intimidated.  She looked down at her shoes, fighting the embarrassment that flushed her cheeks, then returned a more determined gaze on the doctor. 

There was something familiar about this man, disagreeable as he was, but she just couldn’t place him.  Maybe she’d run across him in the cafeteria.

“It’s another reason you shouldn’t be here just now,” he scolded softly, interrupting her thoughts.  “I don’t need to remind you how vulnerable your brother is.  Surely you wouldn’t want to make him sick?”  He smiled now, all warm and avuncular, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  They were an unnatural shade of blue behind his thick glasses and something about that struck Sam as odd.

“Of course not,” she said, shifting slightly.  There was something nagging at her, making her uncomfortable.  She glanced toward Donnie’s bed, where her brother lay still and pale against the sheet.  The urge to protect him was suddenly overwhelming.

The
n the fine hairs on her neck stood up like sentinels. 

So she looked at Donnie.  Really looked.  Something was wrong. He just didn’t… seem right.  “Did something happen?” she asked suddenly, concern creasing her brow.

“Not at all,” the man assured her, moving to take her by the elbow.  His fingers were thick as sausages and he smelled of aftershave layered over sweat.  As he steered her gently away from her brother’s bed, Sam did her best not to recoil.   

“Your brother’s doing as well as can be expected, Miss Martin.  Why don’t you come back tomorrow when you can talk with Dr. Munoz?”

Sam glanced over her shoulder, trying to pinpoint what had made her uneasy.  The guy at her elbow was sending mixed signals, first irritated then overly friendly. But aside from that there was something… 

The sole of her shoe squeaked against the vinyl flooring, the sound jarring in the relative silence. She suddenly realized how quiet it was in the room.  From down the hall came the muffled din of activity
, but Donnie’s little area was disturbingly lifeless.  He was the only patient in the room at the moment, but it wasn’t the absence of roommates that accounted for the unnatural stillness.  The white noise was missing.  There were no hums, no blips – barely the sound of gentle breath easing past his lips. 

“His monitors aren’t working.”  The startled realization made Sam draw to a halt, unconsciously shaking her arm to loosen the man’s hard grip on her elbow.

“Just a temporary problem,” he assured her, a finger of ice poking through the warmth of his drawl.  “We’ve been having trouble with the equipment all day.  You know what they say about when it rains.” 

His rueful chuckle was far too forced, his aw shucks tone too discordant.  This man was ruthlessly herding her out.  Then his hand sought purchase on her arm again, his thick fingers biting into her biceps.  Sam winced, the unexpected force causing her to drag her eyes away from the silent monitors, their blank faces making her heartbeat skip erratically in her chest.

Not right, her instincts whispered.  Something was definitely not right.

She looked at the doctor, saw a bead of sweat rolling from his temple, mindlessly following its path with her eyes.  Her senses scattered, and she felt disjointed as her brain tried to wrap itself around what was happening.  The bead of sweat dropped past his jaw before finally disappearing under the collar of his lab coat.

Sam noticed it was stained with blood.  Not drops of it.  More of a… smudge.

Her eyes drifted to the embroidered name on his chest.

It read Dr. Justin Wellington.

Sam’s muscles locked up, shock freezing her in place, every instinct she possessed screaming for her to run.  But she couldn’t because her legs simply wouldn’t carry her. 

The man paused, feeling her resistance, his big body tensing as he noted the look on her face.  He followed her gaze, eying the name emblazoned on his chest, then raised his head and smiled in a way that made Sam’s stuttering heart stop beating. 

“Friend of yours?” he asked conversationally.  Strangely, his voice sounded genuinely friendly.  Maybe there was an explanation, maybe he’d simply borrowed Justin’s coat.  Maybe she was simply overreacting because her whole life was suddenly crazy.

“What?” she asked innocuously, trying not to panic because this just wasn’t right.  All justifications aside, she simply knew this man wasn’t supposed to be here. Not wearing Justin’s lab coat.  Not looking at her from behind colored contacts.  That was it.  That was what had bothered her.  Why bother with contacts and those ridiculous lenses unless he wanted to alter the color of his eyes?  How many men did that sort of thing for vanity? 

And he was also hell-bent on trying to hustle her out of there.  Obviously because he wanted to do something to her brother.

Was this the man who’d been stalking her?

Is that why he looked familiar?

Was he trying to hurt Donnie in some kind of attempt to lash out at her?

“Good effort,” he said with a smile and a chuckle even as his fingers tightened on her arm.  Five fat sausages made of steel.  “But I can tell that the gig is up.  I guess, in retrospect, taking this lab coat wasn’t such a good idea.”  He shook his head in what seemed like disappointment and Sam felt her skin crawl beneath his hand.  “I should have known that handsome young doctor wouldn’t have wasted any time in making your acquaintance.  But then, Miss Martin, you weren’t supposed to be here to see me.  I had a plan. You messed it up.  That seems to be a problem with both you and your brother.”

Sam’s mind whirled in confusion as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.  What exactly could Donnie have done considering he’d been in a coma for the past few months?   And the almost… fond way he was speaking to her was in direct conflict with his hold on her arm.  He was gripping her so tightly she’d no doubt have a bruise. But that was the least of her worries.  This guy was clearly psychotic.  Whether he was the man stalking her or not, he was certainly up to no good.  Sam opened her mouth to scream for help but it died in her throat when he squeezed her voice box. 

With the hand that had been gripping her arm he fumbled around in the pocket of the lab coat. 

Justin’s lab coat.

Oh, God.

Was his plan to hurt everyone she cared for in some way?

He eased his grip on her throat and she gulped in a breath of burning air. Just as she felt the prick of a syringe below her ear.

“One push,” he told her softly. “One push from my thumb and its lights out, Samantha.  A shame,” he continued in that conversational tone that was completely divorced from the current reality.  “I didn’t want to have to kill you.”