Radclyffe - When Dreams Tremble

the water life to randomly collect specimens, we could miss the early signs of

pollutant effects on the Þ sh population.”

“That’s your thing, right? You’re a Þ sh guy?” Natalie backed out of the parking

lot and headed north on Route 9, which wended its way along the shore and

through the small villages that dotted the lakeside.

“Yeah, close enough.” Dev unfolded her regional survey map to check the next

sample site. “I’m a freshwater biologist. I started out studying Þ sh populations

and got interested in the effects of environmental alterations on breeding and

population dynamics.”

“So that’s how you ended up with the DEC.”

“Technically, I’m an independent consultant, but I’m heading up a joint survey

this summer with the Derrin Freshwater Institute and the state.”

“Fish, huh?” Natalie shook her head and laughed. “If you don’t mind my asking,

how the hell did you ever get interested in Þ sh?”

Dev wondered if it would make any sense if she told her the truth.

If she explained that she’d grown up a stone’s throw from where they had

collected the Þ rst sample. That the lake had been her Þ rst and, in the end, her

best friend. That for as long as she could remember, she’d never Þ t in

anywhere. Not at home, not at school. She’d spent hours on the water, in the

water, from the time she’d been old enough to walk.

She’d found peace in those quiet alone times as she’d lain on the dock in the hot

summer sun watching the small schools of Þ sh circle in the

• 19 •

RADCLY fFE

shallows. She had wondered then what it would be like to be part of a group

like that, moving so easily together, effortlessly attuned. To be accepted, to

belong. She didn’t know then. She still didn’t, but she didn’t wonder any longer.

She didn’t know Natalie well enough to share those secrets, and even if she

had, she wouldn’t have answered any differently. Those times were long past. “I

spent so much time in the water when I was a kid, I guess I thought I was part Þ

sh.”

“Well,” Natalie said, deciding to Þ re the Þ rst shot as she gave Devon a slow,

appreciative once-over, “you look to be all woman now.”

Dev took a quick read and added up the Þ ndings. The answer was pretty

clear. Natalie was very attractive, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and it was

forecast to be a long, hot summer. Dev leaned back with a smile. “Nice to know

you noticed.”

• 20 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER TWO

By the time the EMTs arrived, Leslie felt almost normal again.

Certainly no worse than she had on quite a few occasions in recent weeks.

She’d been working hard and sleeping even less than usual. It was nothing more

than that.

“Look, really,” she protested as a husky young blond with shaggy hair and a

deep tan, who might have been called a surfer dude in another time and place,

lifted her into a wheelchair with the help of his intensely serious female partner,

“I feel perfectly Þ ne now. Obviously I had a little dizzy spell, which has passed.

Please let me up.”

“Just try to relax, ma’am,” the brunette said mechanically as she slipped a sticky

EKG pad inside Leslie’s blouse and afÞ xed it gently to her upper breast.

Ma’am, Leslie thought with irrational temper. She has her hand inside my

blouse and she’s calling me ma’am. There was something terribly wrong with

this picture. This was not her. In a move that startled even herself, she slapped

the EMT’s hand away. With the practiced voice that was calculated to make

jurors sit up straight in their seats, she snapped, “I’m not going to the hospital.”

The one who’d ma’am’d her leaned down with a hand wrapped around either

arm of the wheelchair. She spoke quietly so no one else could hear. “It sucks to

have everyone all over you like this, I know. But your blood pressure’s still a

little bit low and your heart rate’s a tiny bit elevated. If you try to walk out of

here, I think you’re going to go down again. That will buy you a trip to the ICU.

Just let us take you to the emergency room where you can be checked out.”

Leslie studied the dark, deep eyes inches from her own. She

• 21 •

RADCLY fFE

hadn’t seen anyone look at her like that, with such compassion and

understanding, for…so long, she couldn’t remember. How was it that a stranger

could touch her so deeply and those who supposedly knew her intimately never

touched her at all? Truth be told, she did feel terrible.

“Just get me out of here quickly, please,” she whispered.

“You got it. I’m Amy, by the way.”

“You have beautiful eyes, Amy,” Leslie murmured as she suddenly drifted away.

v

The next time Leslie opened her eyes she was propped up into a semisitting

position on a narrow bed with a thin, hard mattress and covered by a stiff white

sheet that smelled of strong detergent. A sickly-green curtain, a shade darker

than the equally nauseating tiles on the walls, covered the doorway. The

overhead light was so bright she was forced to squint. She was ß eetingly very

happy she didn’t have a migraine. What she did have was a plethora of

intravenous lines and leads and other things she didn’t recognize connecting her

to an assortment of monitoring devices that ringed the bed. Surely whatever was

wrong with her didn’t warrant this much attention. She felt a frisson of anxiety

that she quickly squelched and fumbled around on the bed for a call button.

Annoyed when she found none, she considered shouting, but decided that

would only win her even more unwanted interest.

In search of the handle to lower the bed rail, she slid her hand along the outside

of the stretcher. She’d just located it when the curtain was twitched aside and a

smiling man in a white lab coat entered. The words Emergency Physician were

embroidered in red, slanting letters over his left breast pocket. Beneath that was

his name. Peter Erhart, M.D.

“I’m Dr. Erhart.” He stated the obvious and pressed Leslie’s hand by way of

greeting. “How are you feeling?”

“Other than a little tired, Þ ne. I hope you’re here to discharge me.”

The doctor pulled a stainless steel stool to the side of the stretcher and sat

down. When he crossed his arms on the top of the bed rail, he and Leslie were

nearly eye to eye. “We’d like to keep you overnight for observation.”

• 22 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie’s stomach tightened, but she knew from experience that nothing would

show on her face. Calmly, she asked, “Why is that?”

“Your EKG shows frequent runs of supraventricular tachycardia and occasional

short bursts of atrial ß utter accompanied by a precipitous drop in your blood

pressure.”

“Which is why I fainted.”

Dr. Erhart looked surprised. “I understand you’re an attorney. Do you handle

medical cases?”

“No, but my…an associate does. I understand what you’re saying.”

She’d discussed enough malpractice cases with Rachel to understand the

terminology. She wondered idly if anyone had called Rachel, and then realized

no one would have had any reason to. A few people in the ofÞ ce, including

Stephanie, were probably aware of her relationship with Rachel Hawthorne, but

it wasn’t as if they presented themselves as a couple. Which they weren’t. Not

technically. She realized her mind was wandering, something else that never