Eye of the Storm

“And Kirstie was willing to trust a complete stranger?” Megan asked.

“Not until I chatted with her for a while.”

“Charmed her, you mean.”

He grinned. “I simply convinced her I was trust worthy. You’d paved the way, of course, but she’s also a good judge of character.”

“She wasn’t always.”

“You’re talking about her husband, the weakling who abandoned her after the diagnosis.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “She really did trust you.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a trustworthy man.”

Megan shoved away from the support post and gazed through the trees toward the barn Gerard had spotted earlier. There was the sadness again, not only in her eyes, but in every inch of her body, the way her shoulders slumped, the way her mouth turned down, the way she drew into herself as if trying to zip herself into a body bag.

“She told me about her blackouts,” Gerard said.

“The doctor who diagnosed her called it sundowner’s syndrome. How many times did you two talk?”

“Twice. I refuse to call it sundowner’s until someone can prove she has chronic Alzheimer’s or dementia.”

“You had extended conversations, no doubt.”

He nodded. “Not counting dozens of emails.”

“You didn’t tell her why I left the mission, did you?”

“I didn’t tell her about Joni. I did give her some explanation as to why you left.”

“Gerard.”

“I told her you’d lost a couple of patients in the past few months but that you didn’t like to talk about it. Did she mention to you that she was afraid she was being poisoned?”

Megan’s expression froze into the image of a porcelain figurine, all but the eyes, which darkened with shock. “She told you that?”

“Aha! And she didn’t tell you.”

As if by habit, Megan smacked him gently on the arm. “Don’t gloat. Poison? She said that word?”

“Those words exactly, and before you say anything about this to Lynley, don’t. She doesn’t know. Kirstie told only me.”

“Why didn’t she say something to me about it?”

“You refused to take her case.”

“Of course I did. She needs a neurologist.”

Gerard shook his head. “You still think that?”

Megan raised an elegantly arched brow. “What would you say if I told you she warned me recently that I could be in danger?”

He studied that carefully held expression. It was the one he’d seen often when Megan and Tess were playing a joke on him. Megan’s emotions were all over the place this morning. “Kirstie said that?”

“I think she was talking about you. So that means you told her you were coming.”

“I said I would be coming soon, but I didn’t make the decision to drive here last night until she told me about the poison theory. I didn’t want you to face that, along with everything else, all alone.” And Kirstie had given no hint that she was suspicious of him. Quite the contrary. “She said you were in danger from me?”

A wry smile crossed Megan’s lips as she slid her gaze away from him. “A certain kind of danger.”

He continued to watch her, relaxing enough to enjoy yet another break from the tension. “Ah. I see.” He couldn’t help returning the smile, and he did it in double quantity, though Megan still avoided his gaze. “She’s a perceptive lady. You’ve spoken to her of us then.” He knew she had. Kirstie had alluded to hearing his name mentioned quite a few times over the past year or so.

“Of you. Singular.”

He could tell by the light in Megan’s eyes that she was also enjoying the break in tension, temporary though it may be. “Well, that’s still good. She said you told her how strong I was, that I was an ex-cop.”

“Did you tell her you forced me to take classes to get a license to carry—”

“I did not force you to do that.”

Megan blinked up at him. “I hope you didn’t lie to her. She can see through lies these days, and she does not take kindly to them.”

“I didn’t force you to get the license. I strongly suggested it because of the section of town where we’re located.”

“You threatened me with my life.”

“I did not. I only suggested you might save a life in more ways than—”

He realized too late that he should have let it drop when Megan turned away, shoulders once again drooping, eyes closing in pain.

“Kirstie did share your description of me,” he said, gently resting a hand on her back. “Even I was impressed. I’m a tough, giant blond guy with strikingly beautiful blue eyes, and no woman should be able to resist me.”

Megan turned back. “I did not say that.”

Gerard chuckled. “No, wait. You said I was still a tough cop at heart.”

“Something like that.”

“Kirstie did agree with you that I tend to growl on occasion.”

“Well, here we are on your favorite subject again,” Megan drawled in the Texas twang she’d developed during her time in the town of Southern heat. “You.”

“Ouch.”

He watched the pain ease from around Megan’s eyes again as the discussion lightened. Something inside her was sealed up like a brand-new Deepfreeze. Maybe she truly couldn’t have this conversation with him yet. This argument. This call to return to the scene of the crime and work through the tangle of confusion and pain that left them both with open wounds.

She was needed here now, for Kirstie and Lynley. She finally realized she could help Kirstie. Though she didn’t realize it yet, Gerard too, needed to be here. In time, they’d get through the tangle and set things right again.