What She Doesn't Know (10 page)

“I want to know what happened, too. I care a great deal about Brian.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “A great deal?” he mimicked.

“Yes.”

“Any proclamations of love?”

I’ve grown quite fond of you, dear lady. Please allow me to send you a ticket so you may visit my lovely city. And so I may get to know you better. I think we have something special here.
She pushed Brian’s words from her mind. She wasn’t able to tell Christopher how close she was to letting herself love him. “We were still getting to know each other.”

“Phone sex? Lusty Instant Messages?”

“No, though it’s none of your business.”

“Sure it is. I’m trying to find the truth.”

“So am I. I know this sounds…unbelievable. I’ve tried to convince myself the gray place and the man who came up to me was in my imagination. But I’d never seen Brian. When you showed up, you looked like the man in the gray place. That’s why I reacted so strongly. Seeing you meant this was real, that Brian had approached me and showed me scenes from his life, particularly the last thing he saw. You think I want this? I’m a therapist. I’m supposed to be in control of these things.”
 

She went on, hoping he hadn’t made much of that last part. “Your brother was pushed from that roof. I saw it.” She stood, trying to ignore the headiness accosting her. She’d only had one or three sips…she looked at the puddle of liquid so very near the bottom of the bottle.
Beer on an empty stomach. Great, Rita. Just great.

He stood, too. Was he standing so close because he caught the slight sway in her stance?

“So you’re sticking to that story?” he said.

She took a step away from him, trying to draw her focus from the broad expanse of sweatshirt. “Yes, I am. Now, are you with me on this or not?”
 

He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, making it stick out in the back. “You’re plain out crazy, you know that?”

She met his gaze, and her stomach flip-flopped. She hadn’t noticed that he’d taken another step closer, and she could smell, mixed in with the gumbo, his shampoo, or maybe it was his deodorant or she didn’t know, maybe she was crazy. “I suppose it would be easier for you to believe that. It would be for me, too, but I don’t have a choice.”

“Where you going?” he asked as she headed toward the front door.

“I’m going to see if I can find a place to stay for a few more nights. I have a room at the Ashbury for tonight and that’s it.”

“It’s a week before Fat Tuesday.”

“Okay, so it’ll be tricky.”

“Do you even have a clue the significance of Carnival? Of the thousands of people who come here?”

“I’m sure I can find something. Maybe there’s a cancellation. People get sick, change their minds. It happens.”

“Sure it does. And the next person on the waiting list gets the room. Believe me, I know how it works.”
 

“That’s right; your family owns a hotel. Can’t you get me a room?”

His laugh sounded dark and cynical. “I’d like to see you call them up and inform them that Christopher LaPorte insists they find you accommodations.”

She remembered Tammy’s opinion of Christopher and quashed that idea. So much for family pull. Then again, she understood too well how having family didn’t guarantee you anything in life. She could get in touch with Tammy and give her some story about having to stay longer. Maybe she would take pity and find her a closet somewhere.

“Forget whatever it is you’re thinking,” he said, making her realize he’d been studying her ruminations. “Say you do find a place to stay. What exactly are you going to do?”

She saw his skepticism. All right, she couldn’t blame him. She needed to find something concrete to show him and the detective. “I’m going back to the hospital and talk to the staff, find out who visits Brian. Whoever did this is going to keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn’t wake up.” She already knew Christopher wasn’t going to be able to help much, since he’d been so out of touch with his brother. “If you think of anything, or anyone, who doesn’t seem quite right, let me know. And I don’t mean me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Sure thing.”

She handed him her business card. “My cell phone number is on there. Oh, there’s something else you should know. Brian regretted telling you no one wanted you at the funeral.”
 

She could tell those words hit him as strange and surprising. Brian likely wouldn’t have told her about that. Before he could ask anything about it, she opened the front door and walked to her car.
 

She turned back to the house before she opened her door. He was watching her from the window, looking like a ghost. A shiver trickled down her body. He was still there when she pulled away.
 

Once Rita found a close parking spot at the hospital, she sat in the car for thirty minutes talking to her travel agent. Every time Joyce thought she’d found something, it was either snapped up before she could book it or the wrong date.
 

“Sorry, Rita, but when you want last minute Mardi Gras reservations, you can’t expect miracles. The closest I can get you is a room in Jackson, two hours away.”

“Keep looking. That’s too far.”

“All right,” Joyce said, sounding more than skeptical. “The other problem is your rental car. I’m having no better luck extending that or finding you another one.”

“I’ll see what I can do on my end. Thanks, Joyce. I know you’re doing your best and I’m being totally unreasonable.”

“Totally. But I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

Rita rang off and opened her door—right into the black car that had pulled in soon after she had. She hadn’t noticed how close the driver had parked. She slid out sideways and walked toward the front doors, keeping a careful eye on cars around her. Since it was busy, she doubted the masked one would try another stunt like yesterday’s.

When she reached Brian’s room, she was surprised to find a man sitting next to the bed talking to him—and holding his hand.
 

“We’re fully booked, like always,” he was saying. “Of course, it’s harder without you. Some of the regulars are starting to check in, and they’re asking about you. We’ve decided on the party line that you simply had an accident.” His soft voice lowered. “No need to tell them what really happened, isn’t that right?”

What really happened.
Did he mean the apparent attempted suicide or something else?

She ducked back out of the room and found a nurse. Luckily, not the strange one from her first visit, but an attractive woman named Sasha who was pinning her hair back as she exited the restroom. “Excuse me, hi, I’m a friend of Brian LaPorte’s. Someone’s in there with him now, so I thought I’d check with you and see how he’s doing.”

“Is Christopher here?” she asked, heading to Brian’s doorway and peering in. She turned back to Rita. “I just came on-duty, but I’m assuming he’s still in stable condition.”

“Do a lot of people visit him? I’ve met Tammy from the hotel, and of course, Christopher.” She nodded toward the room. “I’ve never seen that guy before.”

“I’ve never seen you here before, either,” she stated instead of answering Rita’s sly question.

“I live in Boston. I wasn’t able to get here until now. It’s good to know he has visitors,” Rita tried again.

“He has a few regulars, and he’s a favorite of the nurses, too. Even nurses from other floors. We’re all rooting for him.”

A few regulars. A favorite of the nurses. Could their enemy be a nurse or someone else working here at the hospital? The thought gave her a shiver. She took a closer look at Sasha, who had slipped away. Her blue eye color looked real, though there was no telling for sure. Strange that she hadn’t asked Rita what her relationship was with Brian.

She spent a few minutes with the nurse in charge, checking on her earlier request that Brian be watched carefully. Unfortunately, without any proof, without police intervention, all she could obtain was a cursory assurance that all their patients were monitored.

That didn’t assure her. After all, she’d been a stranger and no one had stopped her from visiting him. If she pressed that concern, they might question her now.

She returned to Brian’s room. She waited for the young man to say something else, something incriminating perhaps. He seemed content with just holding Brian’s hand now, so she cleared her throat as she approached. “How’s he doing?”
 

The man dropped Brian’s hand as though it had suddenly burned him. His face flushed, and he came to his feet. “Fine, I guess. Who are you?”

She gave him the abbreviated online friendship story as she surveyed Brian. His blood pressure and heart rate were level, meaning that either he wasn’t threatened by this person or he was in the gray place. She glanced at the man’s hands, which were clasped and clenching nervously. “It’s good that he has his friends to keep him company.”

He was tall and lean, with blond hair that fell over the side of his face. A gold hoop glinted from both of his long, angular ears. He looked at Brian. “Yes. Well, I’m sort of a friend. I work with him at the hotel. I’m accounts payable.”

She gave him a disarming smile. “That’s a strange name.”

He laughed, albeit a bit nervously, when he realized what she meant. “I’m Trent Kowalksi.”

She held out her hand. “I’m Rita.” After a quick handshake, she walked up to Brian and touched his hand. “Hi, Brian. It’s Rita. You there?” She glanced at the monitor, but everything remained the same. She turned to Trent, ready to push a bit. “It’s good to hold his hand. I believe he can feel it, and we all need human contact.”

Trent had tucked one hand between his elbow and his waist, obviously embarrassed at having been caught holding Brian’s hand. “Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
 

She had a feeling it went a little deeper than that. Did Brian go both ways? That meant a spurned lover could include both men and women. Yikes. Instead of narrowing down suspects, she was increasing them. No, she couldn’t believe her Brian was a bisexual.
 

You didn’t really know him, Rita.

“Brian’s absence must be making it very hard at this time of the year,” she said.

“It’s been crazy. He’s a real hands-on manager. He’s our inspiration.”
 

How inspirational?
she wanted to ask. “I’m sure he’d be proud of you, handling everything without him.”

Instead of accepting the compliment, Trent said, “I’d better get back to the hotel.” He didn’t meet her eyes, only nodding as he left.
 

She settled into the chair he had vacated and contemplated Trent. He’d been nervous, embarrassed at being caught showing affection toward his boss. Brian obviously inspired deep feelings in his two employees. If only she could get a room at the LaPorte, she could talk further with Tammy and Trent, observe them. A shadow in the doorway caught her eye, and she spotted Sasha peering in. She turned and continued down the hallway, not looking entirely happy about Rita’s presence. Rita was glad the hospital didn’t limit visitors to immediate family. Probably because he had only one.

It was Sasha who asked her to leave an hour later, citing that she needed to work on Brian’s respiratory system. Rita used the restroom and glanced once more into Brian’s room on the way to the elevator. Sasha wasn’t in there. When Rita passed through the lobby, she saw Tammy lurking near a payphone. At least she was pretty sure it was Tammy. The woman was wearing a dark red wig today, and she either didn’t see Rita or was pretending not to.

“Tammy?” Rita asked.

She spun around, looking somewhat annoyed being caught there. “Oh, you’re still here.”

“I almost didn’t recognize you with”—she gestured at the wig—”the new hair style.”

Tammy patted her hair self-consciously. “I felt in a red mood today. I have thinning hair,” she seemed compelled to say. “So I make the best of it with different looks.”

“Great way to deal with it,” Rita said. “I had a patient who was undergoing chemo. She’s cheered herself up by trying different looks, too.”

“That’s right, you’re a shrink. Still digging around in Brian’s psyche?”

“Actually, I’ve decided to stay a little longer. I don’t suppose you would have a room avail—”

“Not a chance in hell, hell, hell,” Tammy said, looking happy to supply the information. “You won’t find anything for miles. People book their rooms a year in advance, sometimes when they leave. If I were you, I’d give up that idea and head on home. Check on Brian from Boston. He has lots of people here to keep him company.”

Rita ignored the advice to leave. “Yes, I met Trent Kowalski a little while ago.”

“Most of the long-term employees have been visiting Brian. The doctor told us to stimulate his brain.”

“I understand even the nurses like him. Sasha seems protective of him.”

“Too protective,” Tammy said under her breath. “People love Brian. They always have.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of, I only have a half hour to visit, so I’d better go.”

“Sasha’s working with him. She just asked me to leave.” Or maybe she was simply trying to get rid of Rita.

“I’ll just go on up anyway, take a peek.”

By the time Rita put on her coat and glanced back at the elevators, Tammy was gone. The elevators had never been that fast for her. She decided to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, and she checked her voice mail while waiting in line. Marty was looking for her. She knew her friend wouldn’t understand her trip to New Orleans. Of course, she’d be concerned. Rita left a message for her and promised to check in again soon. She wasn’t looking forward to fessing up, but it was time someone knew where she was.

Another message was from Tessa, one of her more interesting patients. Tessa had woken one morning convinced that her husband and two daughters were imposters. Though her problem was neurological in nature, and unfixable, Rita was helping her and her family try to reconnect. Rita found a quiet table and talked Tessa out of leaving her family because of her overwhelming guilt that she felt nothing for them emotionally. Rita wasn’t going to give up on them yet.