Read Sidney Sheldon's Chasing Tomorrow (Tracy Whitney) Online
Authors: Sidney Sheldon
Y
OU KNOW IT’S NOT
often a man dies on the cross and then miraculously comes back to life.”
Jeff’s surgeon, Dr. Elena Dragova, an attractive woman in her late forties, beamed down at her patient. As well she might. The case of “the man on the cross” had made headlines all across Bulgaria. Jeff’s recovery was being hailed as a modern miracle and Dr. Dragova was about to become a household name, along with the rest of the staff at UMBAL Sveti Georgi, Plovdiv’s largest and most prestigious hospital.
“So I hear,” Jeff quipped. “Every couple of thousand years or so, isn’t it? If I start my own religion, will you join?”
“I don’t believe in God.”
“Nor do I. Only in beautiful women.”
Dr. Elena Dragova laughed. She didn’t know what to make of Jeff Stevens, or of the strange, hauntingly beautiful woman who’d brought him to Sveti Georgi, insisting that she’d seen renewed vital signs in the ambulance and demanding that the emergency room staff make another attempt at resuscitation. Jeff Stevens’s heart
had
started again, against all the odds. But he’d needed surgery afterward, for eight grueling hours. His condition was so severe he’d been placed in a medically induced coma. Through it all, for three straight nights, the woman had sat by his bedside, barely eating or sleeping, just watching him breathe. She’d refused to leave him, for anything. Even getting her to allow the nurses to dress her own wounds, or put her in clean clothes, had been a battle. She’d told them her name was Tracy, but beyond that, nothing.
Policemen came and went. As well as Mr. Stevens, the hospital was housing another gravely injured American, Daniel Cooper, believed to be the madman who had tried to crucify Stevens up in the hills. Cooper had been found in the amphitheater with his skull smashed in the same night that Stevens was rescued. Rumors swirled that he was in fact a serial killer and rapist, that the woman at Jeff Stevens’s bedside had narrowly escaped becoming his next victim. But no one knew the truth and “Tracy” wasn’t talking.
Then one day, without warning or any words to the nurses, Tracy suddenly left. It was a day Dr. Dragova would never forget, for many reasons.
At around seven in the morning, another group of Americans had arrived—this time it was the FBI—and the scene at UMBAL Sveti Georgi’s main reception area had rapidly descended into farce.
A very rude and obnoxious agent by the name of Milton Buck burst in as if he owned the place, demanding loudly and repeatedly to be allowed to interview Daniel Cooper.
“We have an international arrest warrant,” Agent Buck hissed. “This man is wanted in connection with a string of jewelry and art thefts. He is sitting on stolen property worth hundreds of millions of dollars and I
will
speak to him!”
Having first taken his frustration out on Cooper’s surgical team, who point-blank refused to allow him anywhere near their patient, Buck turned his ire on Jean Rizzo.
Aside from one brief trip back to his hotel to shower and change, Rizzo had been at the hospital constantly since the night Jeff Stevens was brought in. He’d come to formally charge Daniel Cooper, monitor Jeff’s progress and to check on Tracy, whom he no longer trusted to be let out of his sight.
“
You
spoke to Cooper!” Milton Buck glared at him accusingly.
“Early yesterday, yes. There was a brief window when he was still lucid. He was quite forthcoming about the Bible killings.” Jean smiled. “Of course, that was before the second stroke.”
“Why wasn’t I informed! I heard about Cooper’s arrest on the goddamn Bulgarian radio news! My case—”
“—is not important,” said Rizzo. “Not compared to what’s gone on here. Not compared to thirteen lives lost. Besides, you’ve got Elizabeth Kennedy, haven’t you?”
“Elizabeth only took half the money. Daniel Cooper had the other half. If we don’t recover those assets—”
“What? You won’t get your promotion?” Jean gave Milton a conciliatory pat on the shoulders. “That’s too bad, man.”
“The case isn’t closed!” Milton Buck said furiously. “If Daniel Cooper can’t help me trace the missing McMenemy Pissarro, or the Neil Lane jewels he stole from the Chicago store, then your little girlfriend Tracy Whitney’s going to have to fill in the gaps.”
Rizzo’s eyes narrowed. “Leave Tracy out of this. She knows nothing.”
“She knows how these scumbags think.”
“You made a deal,” said Jean, “when Tracy delivered Elizabeth Kennedy to you on a platter. She had immunity. Remember?”
“ ‘Had’ is the operative word, I’m afraid. You didn’t seriously think the federal government was going to wave good-bye to hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of stolen goods just to stay in the good graces of a wanted con artist, did you?”
Jean Rizzo glared at Milton Buck but said nothing.
“Speaking of Tracy, where is she?” Buck asked, smiling. “Perhaps you’d like to go and tell your little girlfriend that I’d like a word? Right now, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“She’s gone.”
The smile died on Buck’s lips.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I mean she left the hospital last night and switched off her phone. I haven’t heard from her since. I went to her hotel this morning but they told me she’d checked out.”
“I don’t believe you. Not even you would be so incompetent as to let a key asset like Whitney slip through your fingers.”
Jean Rizzo shrugged. “I really don’t care what you believe, Agent Buck. And for the record, Tracy isn’t an asset. She’s a friend. If it hadn’t been for her, Jeff Stevens would be dead and Daniel Cooper would still be out there killing women. Check her hotel yourself if you don’t believe me. It’s the Britannia, on—”
“I know where she’s staying, you moron! I’ve had her under surveillance for months.”
“Pity you didn’t pick her up earlier, then, isn’t it?”
Jean walked away, leaving the FBI agent spluttering in his wake.
A FEW MINUTES LATER
Jean knocked on the door of Jeff Stevens’s room. When there was no answer, he went inside.
Stevens was heavily tranquilized and sleeping like a baby. He was out of the woods now, according to the doctors, and was expected to make a full recovery. But he hadn’t been fully conscious for more than a few seconds since he was brought in.
Tracy was asleep in a chair next to his bed. She looked so peaceful, Jean felt bad waking her up. But he knew he had to. Shaking her gently by the shoulders, he told her about his exchange with Agent Buck.
“You need to leave here. As soon as possible. Get a flight out of Bulgaria today.”
Tracy looked stricken. “What about Jeff? He hasn’t woken up yet, not truly. He doesn’t even know I was here.”
“I’ll tell him,” Jean said kindly. “When he comes to I’ll need to question him. I’ll tell him everything.”
Tracy hesitated. There were things
she
needed to tell Jeff. Many, many things. Although she still had no real idea where she should begin.
“If I write a note, will you give it to him?” she asked Jean.
“Of course. But you need to hurry, Tracy. Buck’s not kidding around. If he finds you here, he’ll arrest you.”
Tracy nodded. She had already started to write.
“Where will you go?” asked Jean.
Tracy seemed surprised by the question. “Home, of course. To Nicholas.”
“You can’t stay there, you know,” said Jean. “Buck will find you. He’ll force you to work for him. You need to grab your son and get out. Start again somewhere new, somewhere far away.”
Tracy shook her head. “I can’t do that. Colorado is Nick’s home. I can’t raise my son on the run.”
“But, Tracy . . .”
She smiled, kissing Jean Rizzo on the cheek. “I’ll take my chances. You worry too much, Jean, you know that?”
Three hours later, Tracy was on a plane.
Three days later, Jeff Stevens woke up and read Tracy’s letter.
Three months later, Jeff watched as Dr. Elena Dragova signed his release papers.
“We’ll miss you,” Dr. Dragova told him.
“I’ll miss you too. Especially Sister Katia. You will give her my love?”
The surgeon laughed. “You’re incorrigible. Where will you go? I hope you have someone prepared to take care of you. Or at least to put up with you.”
“I’m going to stay with a friend,” said Jeff. “It turns out we have some unfinished business.”
W
E NEED TO TALK,
TRACY.”
Jeff gently removed the chopping board from Tracy’s hands and put it to one side.
Tracy sighed. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Oh yes there is. There’s everything to say. We’ve both been too scared to say it, that’s all.”
He was right. Jeff had been staying at the ranch for five days now. Five incredible, precious, magical days. Tracy had introduced him to Nick as an “old friend” from college days and promised dear, patient Blake that she would explain later. It had been wonderful to have Jeff here, and even more wonderful to see how well he got along with Nick. Nick admired and respected Blake Carter. More than that, he loved him. But he shared a sense of humor with Jeff, not to mention a pronounced rebellious streak. The two of them had bonded instantly, giggling away at risqué cartoons like
Family Guy
like a pair of naughty kids.
The problem was that having “Uncle Jeff” as a houseguest had almost been
too
easy. It felt so natural and comfortable that neither Tracy nor Jeff had dared to talk about the past, or their feelings. Or, worst of all, the future. Instead they had immersed themselves in the joy of the present, neither one able to let it go and break the spell.
Jeff followed Tracy’s gaze through the window. Nicholas was jumping up onto Blake Carter’s back, trying to knock his Stetson off his head. His blond hair was blowing in the wind and his eyes had crinkled up into tiny slits thanks to the huge smile he was wearing.
Jeff said quietly, “He’s mine, isn’t he?”
Tracy nodded. “Of course he’s yours. There’s never been anyone else.”
“What about Blake?”
She shook her head.
“He obviously loves you, Tracy.”
“I love him too. Just not enough.”
Jeff took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Tracy, I love you. I always have and I always will. Can’t we try again?”
“Please, Jeff. Don’t.” She started to cry.
“But why not? I know you still love me too.”
“Of course I do!”
“So why . . . ?”
“You know why.” Tracy broke away from him. “Because love isn’t enough. Look at him.” She pointed outside at Nicholas. “Look how happy he is. How stable and secure.
I
did that. I made that happen. I built a life for him here, Jeff, a life for us, away from all the madness, all the chaos.”
“Yes, you did. And you did an amazing job. But at what cost, Tracy?” Reaching out, Jeff stroked her cheek. Tracy closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin, the agony and the ecstasy. “What about
you
? Who
you
are, what
you
want? You can’t be a housewife, for God’s sake. You tried it with me and you hated it. You were bored out of your mind, dying a slow death. Can you really tell me you aren’t dying inside, living up here?”
“Sometimes I am,” Tracy was surprised to find herself saying. “Part of me does miss the thrill of our old life, I admit it. But Nicholas comes first. He’s the one totally good thing in my life, Jeff. The one thing I haven’t failed at, I
can’t
fail at. My mom sacrificed everything for me. She was a wonderful woman.”
“She must have been,” said Jeff. “To have such a perfect daughter.”
Tracy laughed. “Oh no. Not perfect.
Very
far from perfect.”
“Perfect,” said Jeff. Pulling Tracy close, he kissed her, slowly and with infinite tenderness. It was a kiss they would both remember for the rest of their lives. Neither of them wanted it to end.
“What if I said I’d give it all up for you?” Jeff pleaded, once Tracy finally pulled away. “For us? What if I swore to give up the scams and the capers for good. I did it once. I could do it again.”
Tracy shook her head sadly. “Maybe you could. But then a part of
you
would die. And I won’t be responsible for that, Jeff. I won’t be the reason.”
“But, Tracy. My darling, you
are
the reason. You’re the reason for everything. I—”
Tracy put a finger to his lips. “I love you, Jeff. I’ll always love you. But we had our chance at happiness. We had it a long time ago. Now our son has a chance. He has a chance of living a normal, happy life. Don’t deny him that.”
Jeff fell silent. Was she right? Had their time simply passed?
He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt immensely sad.
Eventually he asked Tracy, “Are you going to tell him the truth? About me?”
Tracy inhaled deeply. “No. I can’t stop you telling him, if you feel you have to. But Blake’s been a wonderful dad to him since the day he was born.”
“I can see that,” said Jeff.
“I don’t want him to lose that.”
“No.” Jeff swallowed hard. “Nor do I.”
At that moment the back door flew open and Nicholas sailed in.
“I’m starving. What’s for lunch? Oh, hi, Uncle Jeff. Do you want to play Super Smash Bros. with me after lunch? Blake hates the Wii.”
“Sure do,” said Blake, hanging up his battered hat. “Rots your brain.”
“And Mom’s useless.”
“Hey!” said Tracy, forcing a smile. “I resent that.”
“I don’t mind beating you at Smash Bros. after lunch,” said Jeff. “As long as you don’t cry about it.”
“Ha!” Nicholas scoffed. “You’ll be the one crying. Beat me, as if!”
“But it’ll have to be our last game for a while, sport. I’m leaving in the morning.”
Tracy, Blake and Nicholas all froze. Nicholas looked stricken.
“Leaving? Why? I thought you were staying till Halloween at least?”
“Something came up,” said Jeff, as casually as he could. “Couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid.”
“What came up?”
“Work. It’s been a great vacation, buddy, but all vacations have to come to an end.”
“Hmm.” Nicholas sounded distinctly unimpressed by this logic. “What
is
your work anyway, Uncle Jeff?” he asked. “What do you do?”
“Er . . .” Flustered, Jeff looked at Tracy. “I . . . well, I, er . . .”
“Uncle Jeff’s in the antiques business,” Tracy said firmly, not missing a beat. “Now go wash up for lunch.”
THE NEXT MORNING TRACY
woke early, long before dawn. She’d had terrible dreams.
She was drowning, sinking, gasping for breath as huge waves crashed over her and powerful currents pulled her deeper and deeper into the black icy depths. She could hear Jeff screaming.
“I’m here, Tracy! I’m here! Take my hand!”
But when she reached out for him he was gone.
She made herself some coffee and sat downstairs alone, waiting for the sun to rise. She’d felt so peaceful here once, so contented. In this kitchen, this house, this little town in the mountains. Just her and her son and Blake. She’d buried the past. Not just Jeff Stevens, but herself too, the person who she used to be. She’d laid them to rest and mourned them and she’d moved on. At least that’s what she’d told herself all these years.
What a fool I was!
Tracy knew now that the past could never be buried. It was a part of her, the same way that her eyes and skin and heartbeat were a part of her. Jeff was a part of her, and not only because of Nick.
She wondered if she would ever feel contented again. Or was she destined always to live a half-life? To choose one version of herself and sacrifice the others, forever?
Jeff left after breakfast. He came down packed and smiling, making light of his departure, for Nicholas’s sake. There were no lingering good-byes. He and Tracy had agreed on that last night. Instead they kissed each other on the cheek and hugged, like the old friends they were.
“Take care of him,” Jeff said gruffly. “Take care of yourself.”
Then he climbed into his rented station wagon and drove away.
Nicholas stood on the porch, hand in hand with his mother, watching Jeff’s car until it disappeared out of sight.
“I love Uncle Jeff.” He sighed. “He’s so fun. We will see him again, won’t we, Mom?”
Tracy squeezed her son’s hand tightly.
“I expect so, my darling. You never really know what tomorrow might bring.”