Son of the Enemy (7 page)

Please, God, let him be okay.

Paula Smythe, Christian’s mother, had arrived ten minutes earlier in skimpy workout clothes and was now inside with her son. The last time Hannah had checked in at school, Larissa was still trying to track down Bill Smythe. He had apparently been out of the office all afternoon, much to the chagrin of his secretary, who admitted she had no idea where he’d gone or when he would be back. Christian had once confided that his parents were both having affairs, so it was possible the man was shacked up somewhere with his cell phone turned off.

She rubbed her arms to stop the shivering that had taken over ever since she jumped in the back of the ambulance to ride with an unconscious Christian to the hospital. The rescue squad had put him on a respirator and pumped Valium into him, but he hadn’t regained consciousness. When they arrived at the hospital, one of the doctors said something about a possible “subarachnoid hemorrhage”, which Hannah figured out meant a ruptured blood vessel at base of his brain. What if he slipped into a coma? Or worse? She trembled violently.

“Hannah!”

She raised her head. John Emerson was striding through the ER toward her, looking nearly as worried as she felt. She began to rise, the impulse to walk into his arms surprisingly strong, but she held herself back. Best not to go there.

He sat beside her. “I went back to school, hoping to catch you, and Larissa told me what happened. Is he okay?”

She shrugged and wished she had given in to the impulse to seek comfort in his arms. “I’m so afraid, John,” she whispered. “I’m so afraid he’ll…”

He reached for her hands. “I know. Hey, your hands are like ice. And you’re shivering.” He shucked off his jacket and laid it over her shoulders, then went to work warming up her hands by rubbing them vigorously between both of his. She told him what little she knew about Christian’s condition—and then she remembered.

“I hope you’ll treat this episode sympathetically. You know, in the book.”

He squeezed her hands. “You can count on it.” The concerned look in his eyes made her believe him.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“How about if I go get us both some coffee?” He lifted her hair out from under the jacket in a tender gesture that melted something inside of her. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, the thought of food making her nauseous. “Just coffee would be great. Thanks.” She watched him walk through the waiting area and turn down the corridor leading to the cafeteria, then closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.

John Emerson was becoming important to her in spite of the short time they’d known each other. Earlier this afternoon she’d bitten his head off for meddling, yet she’d been the one to wave her ugly past in his face. Why she felt safe sharing such painful memories with him she couldn’t imagine, but right now having him here made it easier to deal with the horror of Christian’s condition.

Good Lord.
Christian was lying in a hospital bed unconscious, possibly close to death, and she was thinking about what
she
needed. With her eyes still closed, she sent up silent prayer after silent prayer that the boy recovered. According to Ty, Christian had been snorting a mix of cocaine and methamphetamine when he keeled over and seemed to stop breathing. Ty was so shaken up as he told the story that it wasn’t clear how he had gotten Christian to breathe again.

“Hannah?”

She opened her eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Thornton,” she said, straightening. “Is Ty with you?”

Thornton took the seat John had just vacated. “No.” He picked up her hand. “Larissa called and told me what happened and that you had gone along in the ambulance, so I got here as quickly as I could. How’s Christian?”

“I don’t know any more than I did the last time I spoke to Larissa.” She turned in her seat so she was looking him in the eye and squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m sure Ty was high too. When he ran into the office, he was totally freaked out.”

“Did he tell you he was high or are you just assuming?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said in a loud whisper. “We found an unconscious boy lying in the woods with white powder in his nostrils and no sign of any drugs or paraphernalia. Are you going to try to tell me Ty just
watched
Christian snort cocaine or whatever it was and didn’t participate?”

Thornton adjusted his red silk tie and glanced around the waiting room. “I don’t know what he did or didn’t do. I was hoping you could tell me, since I don’t know where he is at the moment.” He frowned. “Whose jacket is that?”

She leaned forward, alarmed. “You mean he didn’t go home?”

He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “No, he didn’t come home, but I’d really rather not announce that to the world. I’ve got people out looking for him. I just thought you might have some idea where he’d go.”

“Oh God, in all the excitement I didn’t realize… What if he’s had a bad reaction too? He could be lying somewhere—”

“Don’t overdramatize,” Thornton said. “Can you give me some names of kids from school he hangs out with?”

She had begun to do that when her attention was caught by a tall, lean figure in a dark suit walking purposefully through the sliding doors at the entrance to the ER. Bill Smythe’s dark eyes met hers, and Hannah sensed the violence behind his gaze. She stood and the jacket slid off her shoulders. He stalked over to her without a glance at anyone else.

“What the hell are you doing here?” There was alcohol on his breath. “You have balls, lady, for showing your face in this hospital.”

Hannah stepped back as though he’d slapped her. “I came with Christian, in the ambulance.” Her mouth felt suddenly very dry. “We tried to reach you but no one could find you. Your wife’s here.”

Smythe moved closer, causing her to take another step back. From the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Thornton come to his feet.

“If anything happens to my son, I will nail you to the wall, Hannah.” He poked his forefinger into her chest. “And I won’t quit until—”

What happened next was a blur. John came charging up from behind her, grabbed the front of Smythe’s shirt and pushed him up against the wall.

“You keep your hands off her, you bastard.” His voice was eerily controlled.

Hannah was so stunned that for several seconds she was speechless.

Smythe’s eyes were wide as they darted between John and the nurses’ station, where two nurses and a receptionist stood stock-still, mouths open. “Let go of me,” he said, but he had lost most of his bluster. John leaned into him.

“You’re Christian’s father, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone almost conversational.

Hannah grabbed John’s arm. “Let him go, John, he’s just upset. He hasn’t even seen Christian yet.”

John raised an eyebrow. “No? So it’s more important for you to harass the woman who’s been trying to help your son than to go in there and see him?”

“John!”

“Let’s all calm down,” Thornton said from beside her. “Hannah’s right. The man’s son is lying unconscious in a hospital bed. It’s only natural that he’d be a little irrational.”

“Let go of him,” Hannah said. “He didn’t hurt me.”

John let go and Smythe took a deep breath, straightened his clothes and slid a hand over his hair. “Is this your personal thug, Hannah?” he said, his eyes avoiding John’s. He pulled the top of his shirt away from his neck as though it was choking him and twisted his head, grimacing. “I thought you had Bradshaw for that.”

Hannah felt Thornton tense beside her. Bill turned to him as though he’d just noticed he was there, but Hannah wasn’t convinced. “Well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t Mister Big himself.”

“Sorry to hear about your son,” Thornton said stiffly. “I hope he’ll be okay.”

“Don’t think I don’t know where Christian got that coke, Bradshaw. Ty doesn’t have to go far to find a dealer, huh? All he has to do is walk into the house and ask one of your boys.”

Thornton’s eyes flashed pure hatred but his voice remained silky smooth. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Bill. I’ll let it go this time because of the circumstances, but if you insist on throwing unfounded accusations around you will be hearing from my attorney.”

Smythe laughed. “If the police searched your house right now, I’d bet a million dollars they’d find drugs. You think spreading your money around can fool people into thinking you’re a law-abiding citizen, Bradshaw, but I know better. I know all about you.”

“Bill,” Hannah said. “Just go in and see Christian, okay? This is getting you nowhere.”

“I think you should listen to the lady,” Bradshaw said with a smile that defined the expression ‘sharklike’. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s a smart cookie.”

“Sure she is.” Smythe regarded Hannah with an expression of disgust. “She knows who to spread her legs for to keep her precious—”

Hannah gasped as John grabbed Bill by the front of his shirt and got in his face. “Excuse me?” he said. “I thought I heard you insult Ms. Duncan again, you bastard.”

“John!” she shouted.

Smythe made a gurgling sound, and John let go of him. This time the man had the good sense to walk away.

“Jeez, the guy’s a slow learner,” John said.

“Are you nuts? He could have you arrested for assault.”

“He’s a bully and a creep, and he’s blaming you because he knows it’s his own damn fault his son’s in that hospital bed.”

They turned at the sound of footsteps and anxious voices coming toward them.

“I’ll deal with them,” Thornton said. He walked over to a small group of suits and one security guard, his hand outstretched.

Hannah sighed heavily and turned toward the double doors leading into the emergency suite. “I can’t believe he didn’t run right into that room. If it were my son lying there…”

“Your son wouldn’t be in that situation,” John said. “Because you’d beat the crap out of him if he even looked at drugs.”

“Why does that man hate me so much?”

“Because he’s a self-centered asshole who doesn’t like you reminding him how inadequate he is as a parent.”

A few minutes later, Thornton shook hands with the hospital staff and rejoined Hannah and John. For someone who had just been called a drug dealer and a thug, and had apparently smoothed over John’s impulsive behavior, he seemed totally unruffled. As always, he was an impressive figure in his expensive suit and blond good looks. But his striking blue eyes were colder than Hannah had ever seen them.

“Did they tell you anything about Christian’s condition?” she asked.

“They’re still running tests.” Thornton held out a hand to John. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Thornton Bradshaw.”

They shook. “John Emerson.”

“I’ve got to hand it to you, John. Another second and I would have knocked his teeth down his throat.” Thornton was smiling, but Hannah could tell he was simmering underneath.

“I guess I should thank you for running interference,” John said. “I half expected to spend the night in the local jail.”

Thornton shrugged. “I’ve donated generously to this hospital, and since you appear to be a friend of Hannah’s…” He glanced between them. “I assume you work together.”

“John’s the author I told you about. He’ll be hanging around the school for another couple of weeks.”

John shot her a glance. “At least.”

A fragile butterfly of a thought fluttered across her consciousness.
He’s staking his claim.

“Oh, yes, that’s right.” Thornton turned to Hannah. “You mentioned it at dinner on Friday night.” He placed a possessive hand on her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to shake him off. After all, if he hadn’t been there, John could well be talking to the police right now.

Thornton turned to John. “I take it you know Christian fairly well?”

“Not really. I’ve only been around for a week.”

“Have you tried Ty’s cell phone, Thornton?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, but he’s got it turned off.” He pulled her closer into his side. “Let’s go get some dinner while we try to figure out where he might have gone.” He said to John, as though it were an afterthought and not a polite dismissal, “You’re welcome to join us, of course.”

“Actually, I was just about to suggest the same.” John turned to Hannah. “The coffee machine was broken, but you need something to warm those hands up. You can put my jacket back on if you want.”

Hannah considered suggesting they pull out the tape measures and get it over with. “I’m really not hungry and I’m not cold anymore. Thanks anyway, both of you.”

“Well, there’s no sense hanging around here,” Thornton said. “I’ll take you home and we can talk there.”

“I can get myself home.” His proprietary attitude annoyed her. She couldn’t remember the last time he deigned to step foot in her humble abode, and she preferred it that way.

“I don’t want you taking any chances,” Thornton went on. “A woman was found murdered this morning in Middleburg.”

Hannah shivered. “I’ll take a cab when I’m ready.”

“Fine, then, we’ll talk here. Will you excuse us, John?”

“Sure. I’ll call you at home later, Hannah.”

She rolled her eyes at him, something she’d been doing a lot lately. “Fine.”

When John had left, Thornton led her to a private corner by a pay phone and sat down. “Have the police talked to you yet, about Christian? Or asked any questions about Ty?”

“No, but I keep expecting them to show up. We told the emergency techs in the ambulance what Christian had been using, and they know another boy was with him.”

“But you didn’t mention his name?”

“No, they didn’t ask.”

Thornton let out a breath. “How much does Larissa know about what happened?”

“The same as the rest of us. Ty came running into the office…or stumbling, I should say, and said Christian was passed out in the woods and there was a guy there. Oh, my goodness, I forgot about that.”

“Where’s the guy now?”

“I don’t know. When we found Christian, he was alone. It didn’t even occur to me to mention—”

“Don’t,” Thornton said. “I’ll handle it. Just don’t say anything to anyone about Ty or—”

“What?” Her whisper was shrill. “You expect me to lie to the police?”