Jenna Ryan - Dream Weaver

I’M ANGRY. I’ve been that way for days now. It’s not Meliana’s fault, it’s her ex-husband’s. Except he isn’t her ex yet, which is partly why I’m angry.

I warned him to stay away from her. He didn’t listen. I’m going to make him listen.

Meliana will understand. She has to. I don’t know why she lets him into her house. It’s her house, not his, not anymore. They’re finished. Meliana’s mine now. My dream will come true.

I won’t let him come back into her life. I hope she understands that. I can’t believe she’d want him back.

I think I might have to hurt him.

“I’ve heard about Blue Lake.” Nick followed Meliana out of the O.R., whipped off his cap and held her Ella Fitzgerald disk up between two fingers. “I burned this a couple nights ago, along with Coldplay and Janice Joplin.”

“That’s quite the combo, Nick.”

“I have eclectic taste. But actually, I did Janice for Dr. Lightfoot. That’s why I mentioned Blue Lake. Word is, he’s thinking of buying a retreat outside the city, and he knows you have one there.”

“Bit of a story attached to that, but yes, I do.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” She slid her gaze sideways. “I might not answer it, though.”

“Are you and your husband together or separated?”

It hurt more than it should by now. “We’re not together, Nick.”

He beamed. “That’s twenty bucks to me.”

Meliana wasn’t surprised. Bets based on gossip flowed more freely around the hospital than tap water. “Who’s the loser?”

“A guy in Administration. So—I’m having a wine-tasting party next weekend. You’re invited. I plan to cover California, France, Italy and Australia.”

“If I’m off the duty roster, I’ll think about it.” She paused outside her office. “Do you know Sam Robbins?”

“Only through you.”

“Have you ever sat and talked to him?”

“Once or twice. He seems a bit Forrest Gump–like to me, but I know he shot through business administration in college.”

“He’ll be running Food Services in a few years,” Meliana predicted, “whether officially or not.”

“Do you want me to invite him to my party?”

“I want to know what it is about him that makes his memory so instantaneous and so incredible.”

“Ah, you’d like me to ask my grandfather what the deal is with someone like him.” Nick tugged on his spiky hair to straighten it. “No problem, but I’m not sure, even with all the studies he’s done on the human brain, that Granddad will have an answer for you. Sometimes life just throws people a weird curve. Like Dr. Lightfoot and his touchy-feely stuff. Granddad thinks Lightfoot’s a quack. But I’ll ask about the memory thing for you. Next Saturday night, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They parted company at the elevator. Inside, Meliana checked her watch. It was after seven. She’d been working steadily since 9:00 a.m. She could handle that. However, she hadn’t been able to reach Johnny at Blue Lake since yesterday, and that was a worry.

She could call Eileen or Zack or even the sheriff, but if he was simply looking for down time, Johnny wouldn’t appreciate being monitored.

She mulled it over and decided to try one more time. In her office she picked up the phone and punched his number. Twenty rings later, she stared at the handset and sighed. “Where the hell are you, Grand?” Vexed with herself more than him, she skirted her desk. “Why do you care, Meliana? Separated, remember? Time to let go.”

Her chair was rolled partway out, angled toward her computer. She swung it around, then hissed in a breath and took a quick backward step.

A single white rose lay crosswise on the seat.

SHE MADE IT TO THE HOUSE at Blue Lake before 9:00 p.m. Only one light burned inside, a lamp on a table next to the front door. Meliana considered, then knocked. “Johnny?”

There was no answer. At her side, Lokie and Shannon barked.

She tried again, louder. “Johnny, are you here?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

His voice came from behind her, and she spun. Whatever she’d planned to say dissolved in her throat. He was covered with mud and grease, he had a rag wrapped around his right hand and he looked thoroughly out of sorts.

It had to be the expression on his face that caused her lips to twitch. “Problem?” she asked in her most ingenuous tone.

The look he sent her had a decided bite. “Where do you want me to start? With my truck, the gusher in the toilet, or the fire?”

“Fire?” She grabbed the dogs’ collars to keep them from jumping on him. She sniffed, but smelled nothing except trees and lake water. “Where?”

“In the shed.”

She glanced around his arm. “It looks fine from here.”

“Check out the far side, Mel. It’s toast.”

She kept a firm hold on the dogs. “How did it start?”

“Local fire chief’s gonna let me know that when he figures it out, which should be by next Easter. Until then, I’m guessing arson.”

Something twisted in her stomach. “Arson’s a pretty drastic conclusion, Johnny. It could’ve been someone smoking in the woods.”

“It could also have been a gas bomb.”

“Right.” Meliana gave up. “What happened to your truck?”

“Two flat tires, with only one spare to replace them. And it wouldn’t start.”

“Someone got under the hood.”

“Unless a squirrel made off with three of my spark plugs and disabled the carburetor.”

Meliana pushed both dogs to a sitting position. They wanted to hunt the bullfrogs that were croaking in the reeds by the lake. “Stay,” she ordered and had to trust that Lokie would follow Shannon’s lead. “This day’s really not improving. What about the gushing toilet?”

Johnny blew at the hair in his eyes. “That could have happened on its own. The plumber who fixed the broken water pipe Eileen discovered also runs Eddy’s Spaghetti House. He had a party of twenty booked in for dinner last night. I sensed his mind was on his meat sauce while he was here. He capped the geyser and told me to use the upstairs bathroom until he can get a better look at the problem.”

“Right. Fire, spark plugs, toilet. Now tell me why your answering machine and cell are turned off? I’ve been calling since last night. I even e-mailed you this afternoon.”

He rubbed his grimy hands in distaste. “My cell’s dead, Eileen moved the answering machine so I walked through the cord and tore it out of the wall, and you never use e-mail to contact me so I tend not to check it. I called you twice at the hospital today. Despite the usual runaround, I got the impression you were in surgery pretty much nonstop. That meant you were okay, so I didn’t leave a message.” Concern crept in as he cocked his head to survey her. “Did something happen after my last call? Has Chris…?”

She waved him off. “Nothing like that. Chris is out of town until Monday.”

“Some hero.”

“I don’t need a hero, Johnny.”

He took a step toward her, a dangerous step, to her way of thinking.

“I got another rose,” she told him. “At the hospital, in my office. Sometime between four and seven this evening.”

His head fell back, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Not in tune with the cosmos at all, are we?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing.”

“What I don’t believe is how easily this guy slips in and out of your world. Home, office, car. No one sees him….” He stopped. “No one saw him, right?”

“I asked all around the seventh floor. No one noticed anything unusual.”

“So either he’s ridiculously lucky or he sees all and knows exactly when to leave his goodies. Or steal them, as the case may be.”