Invasion (8 page)

“I suppose,” Beau said vaguely.

“Will there be more?” Cassy asked, her eyes still glued to the point of origin.

“Nope, that’s it,” Beau said. He let go of Cassy, then followed her back inside. He closed the slider.

Cassy sprinted back to the bed and dived in. When Beau appeared she had the covers clutched around her neck and was shivering. She ordered him to get under the blanket to warm her up.

“Gladly,” he said.

They snuggled for a moment and Cassy’s shivering abated. Pulling back from where she had her face tucked into the crook of his neck, she tried to look into Beau’s eyes, but they were lost in the gloom. “Thanks for getting
me out there to see that meteor shower,” she said. “At first I thought you were trying to play a joke on me. But I have one question: How did you know it was going to happen?”

“I can’t remember,” Beau said. “I guess I heard about it someplace.”

“Did you read about it in the paper?” Cassy suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Beau said. He scratched his head. “I really don’t remember.”

Cassy shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we got to see it. How did you wake up?”

“I don’t know,” Beau said.

Cassy pushed away and turned on the bedside light. She studied Beau’s face. He smiled under her scrutiny.

“Are you sure you feel all right?” she asked.

Beau smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said. “I feel great.”

6:45
A.M.

IT WAS ONE OF THOSE CLOUDLESS, CRYSTALLINE MORNINGS
with the air so fresh it could almost be tasted. The most distant mountains stood out with shocking clarity. The normally dry ground was covered with a cool layer of dew that sparkled like so many diamonds.

Beau stood for a moment taking in the scene. It was as if he’d seen it for the first time. He couldn’t believe the range of colors of the distant hills, and he questioned why he’d not appreciated it before.

He was dressed casually in an Oxford shirt, jeans, and loafers with no socks. He cleared his throat. His cough was all but gone and his throat didn’t hurt when he swallowed.

Pushing off from the entrance to his apartment building he walked along the walkway, then up the driveway and into the back parking area. In the sand lining the far periphery he found what he was looking for. Three black
mini-sculptures identical to the one he’d found in Costa’s parking lot the morning before. He scooped them up, dusted them off, and slipped them into separate pockets.

With his mission accomplished, he turned and retraced his steps.

Inside the apartment the alarm went off next to Cassy’s head. The alarm was on her side of the bed because Beau had a bad habit of turning it off so quickly that neither of them truly woke up.

Cassy’s hand snaked out from beneath the covers and hit the dream bar. The alarm fell silent for ten luscious minutes. Rolling onto her back, her hand extended toward Beau to give him a shove, the first of many. Beau was not a morning person.

Cassy’s exploring hand found empty, cool sheets. The searching arc was extended. Still nothing. Cassy opened her eyes and looked over at Beau, but he was not there!

Surprised by this unexpected turn of events, Cassy sat up and listened for any tell-tale noise from the bathroom. The house was silent. Beau never got up before she did. Suddenly she was worried that his illness had returned.

After slipping on her robe, Cassy padded out into the living room. She was about to call out his name when she saw him over by their fish tank. He was bending down, studying the fish. He was so intent he’d not heard her. While she watched he placed his right index finger against the glass. Somehow his finger concentrated the fluorescent aquarium light so that the tip of his finger glowed.

Mesmerized by this scene, Cassy just stood there continuing to watch. Soon all the fish flocked to the point
where Beau’s finger touched the glass. When he moved the finger laterally, the fish all dutifully followed.

“How are you doing that?” Cassy asked.

Surprised by Cassy’s presence, Beau stood up, letting his hand fall to his side. At the same instant the fish dispersed to the far ends of the tank.

“I didn’t hear you come into the room,” Beau said with a pleasant smile.

“Obviously,” Cassy said. “What were you doing to attract the fish that way?”

“Damned if I know,” Beau said. “Maybe they thought I was going to feed them.” He came over to Cassy and draped his arms on her shoulders. His smile was radiant. “You look wonderful this morning.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Cassy said jokingly. She tussled her thick hair, then patted it into place. “There, now I’m ready for the Miss America Pageant.” She looked up into Beau’s eyes. They were a particularly effulgent blue, and the whites were whiter than white.

“You are the one who looks wonderful,” Cassy said.

“I feel wonderful,” Beau said. He bent down to kiss Cassy on the lips, but she ducked out from beneath his arms.

“Hold on,” she said. “This beauty contestant has yet to brush her teeth. I wouldn’t want to be disqualified on account of morning breath.”

“Not a chance,” Beau said with a lascivious smile.

Cassy cocked her head to one side. “You’re feeling chipper today,” she remarked.

“As I said, I feel great,” Beau said.

“That was sure a short course of the flu,” Cassy said. “I’d say you made a remarkable recovery.”

“I guess I have you to thank for hauling me over to the medical center,” Beau said. “That’s where things took a turn for the better.”

“But the doctor and the nurse didn’t do anything,” Cassy said. “They admitted so themselves.”

Beau shrugged. “Then it’s a new strain of a rapid flu. I’m certainly not going to complain about its short course.”

“Me neither,” Cassy said, starting for the bathroom. “Why don’t you make coffee while I take a shower.”

“Coffee is already made,” Beau said. “I’ll bring you a cup.”

“Aren’t we being efficient,” Cassy called on her way through the bedroom.

“Nothing but five-star service in this hotel,” Beau said.

Cassy continued to marvel at Beau’s quick turnaround. Remembering how he looked when she’d climbed into the car in front of the Anna C. Scott school, she never would have suspected it. She turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. When it was to her liking, she climbed in. The first order of business was her hair. She washed it every day.

No sooner had she gotten her scalp full of shampoo when she heard knocking on the outside of the shower door. Without opening her eyes, she told Beau to leave her coffee mug on the back of the sink.

Sticking her head under the jet of water, she began to rinse. The next thing she knew was that Beau was in the shower with her.

She opened her eyes with disbelief. Beau was standing right in front of her in the shower fully clothed. He even still had on his loafers.

“What on earth are you doing?” Cassy sputtered. She had to laugh. It was such an unexpected, zany thing for him to do.

Beau didn’t say anything. Instead he reached out and hungrily drew Cassy’s wet, naked body to him while his lips sought hers. It was a deep, sensual, carnal kiss.

Cassy managed to come up for air, laughing at the absurdity of what they were doing. Beau laughed as well as the water flattened his hair against his forehead.

“You’re crazy,” Cassy commented. Her hair was still full of soap suds.

“Crazy for you is more accurate,” Beau said. He started to fumble with his belt.

Cassy helped by undoing the buttons of his soaked shirt and peeling it from his muscular shoulders. The situation might have been unconventional, especially for the normally neat and compulsive Beau, but for Cassy it was a turn-on. It was so wonderfully spontaneous, and Beau’s eagerness added additional spice.

Later, in the midst of their passion, Cassy began to appreciate something else. Not only were they making love in a unique circumstance, but they were making love in an atypical way. Beau was touching her differently. She wasn’t able to explain it exactly, but it was marvelous, and she loved it. It had something to do with Beau being more gentle and sensitive than usual even in the midst of his overwhelming ardor.

REACHING HIS HANDS OVER HIS HEAD, PITT STRETCHED
. He looked at the clock on the ER desk. It was almost seven-thirty and soon his marathon twenty-four-hour shift would be over. He was already fantasizing how good his bed was going to feel when he slid his tired body between the sheets. The idea of the exercise was to give him an idea of what it’s like being a resident, when shifts of thirty-six hours are commonplace.

“You should go down to the room where they found that poor guy from housekeeping,” Cheryl Watkins said. Cheryl was one of the day staff nurses who’d recently come on duty.

“How come?” Pitt asked. He remembered the patient very well. The patient had been rushed into the ER a little after midnight by someone from housekeeping. The ER doctors had started resuscitation, but had stopped after quickly realizing the patient’s body temperature was about the same as room temperature.

Deciding the man was dead had been easy. The hard part was deciding what had killed him other than the apparent seizures he’d had. There’d been a curious bloodless hole through his hand that one of the doctors thought might have been caused by electricity. Yet the history said he’d been found in a room without any access to a high voltage.

Another doctor noticed the patient had particularly, dense cataracts. That was strange because cataracts had not been noted on the man’s annual employment physical, and his co-workers denied he had any visual handicap. So that suggested the man had suffered sudden
cataracts, which the doctors dismissed. They’d never heard of such a thing even when a powerful jolt of electricity was involved.

Confusion about the proximate cause of death led to wild speculation and even some bets. The only thing that was certain was that no one knew for sure, and the body was sent to the medical examiner’s office for the final word.

“I’m not going to tell you why you should see the room,” Cheryl said. “Because if I did, you’d say I was pulling your leg. Suffice it to say that it’s weird.”

“Gimme a hint,” Pitt said. He was so tired that the idea of walking all the way over to the hospital proper did not engender a lot of enthusiasm unless it was for something truly unique.

“You have to see for yourself,” Cheryl insisted before she headed off to a meeting.

Pitt tapped a pencil against his forehead while he debated. The idea of the circumstance being weird intrigued him. Calling after Cheryl, he asked her where the room was located.

“In the student overnight ward,” Cheryl called back over her shoulder. “You can’t miss it because there’s a ton of people there trying to figure out what happened.”

Curiosity overcame Pitt’s fatigue. If there were a lot of people involved maybe he should make the effort. He heaved himself to his feet and dragged his tired body down the corridor. At least the student overnight ward was close. While he walked he vaguely thought that if it were truly weird maybe Cassy and Beau would like to hear about it, since they’d just been there the previous afternoon.