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  “Why did Rain set you up for the interview when you were supposed to be on vacation?”

  I was exasperated. “Because she was mean in general, no matter what Jane and the rest of the office people say. She was not a nice person. She was selfish and didn’t care about anyone else. The point is—”

  “Hmmm.” Detective Wilson shuffled some more papers. “That’s a little harsher than just saying she wasn’t a model supervisor.”

  Wait. Am I a suspect? I stuttered to change the subject. “That’s not the point. As I was saying, if she were murdered—by an author—because of a rejected manuscript, then I’m the real target. Because I reject the manuscripts. And anyone who read that interview would know that now. And whoever hit my roommate meant to hit me. The guy who killed Rain is still in San Diego and wants to kill me!”

  “Calm down, Ms. Tahan,” Detective Wilson sighed. “We don’t even know if it was an author. Lots of people have access to rejection letters. I understand your anxiety about all this. Lots of people in your company are concerned for themselves and their loved ones. And while I’m sorry for your roommate, we need more evidence to connect the crimes than just the fact that two people you know were in car accidents. However, if you can let me know your roommate’s name and the time and place of the accident, I can look up the incident report and have a chat with the officer involved in the case.”

  “But—” I muttered. Have a chat?

  “I will look into it, Ms. Tahan. In the meantime, please stay in contact. We may need to get more information from you.”

  Liam’s roommate stirred, but I ignored him and didn’t make eye contact, and once he settled himself he fell back asleep. I paced the room nervously. If the police didn’t believe me, who would?

  If the police don’t think you’re in danger, then maybe you aren’t.

  I wanted desperately to call Cleo. She’d calm me down. But she had been up all night, full of anxiety, and now finally had a chance to rest. Who was I to steal that relief from her?

  My thoughts turned to Adam Mestas. Why shouldn’t I call him? Didn’t we have an increasingly serious relationship?

  Increasingly intimate, my mind countered. That’s not the same as serious.

  But wasn’t it common knowledge that men wanted to be rescuers? Wouldn’t he be insulted if I needed help and I didn’t think to call on him to be my hero?

  My hero in what? In listening to my irrational fears? That will be a real turn-on. He’ll be so glad you called.

  I slumped down in the chair. Would Adam be there for me if I asked him to be? Would he sit next to me as I sat next to my ex, just because I needed company? Or did he just want to be with me when we were having lunch, dinner, sex?

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I announced, standing up and making my way to the phone by Liam’s bed. I dialed Adam’s cell. It rang.

  And rang. Four times and then the voicemail picked up.

  I released a saddened sigh, and after the beep simply said, “It’s Eliza. I’m at the hospital and just…having a rough day. Call me when you can.” I paused. Should I dare to say it? How else would I know he’d be there for me? “I just need to talk.”

  As though some kind of divine answer, as soon as I hung up the phone I heard a moan from behind me. I turned in time to see Liam trying to shift in bed, unable to move much due to his broken body and the wires and tubes that tied him up. The breathing machine produced dramatic sounds and I rushed to his side, pounding the nurse call button as many times as I could while watching Liam with bated breath. I stopped pushing the call button and began to breathe when his eyes opened.

  “Oh, Liam,” I gasped.

  He opened his mouth and looked at me quizzically, and moaned.

  “You’re awake, Liam!” I smiled, and then frowned because he’d seemed more peaceful when he had been out. Now he just looked like he was in pain and completely confused.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I cooed, trying to comfort him but, afraid to touch him in case I touched something that hurt. “You were in a car accident. But you’ll be all right. We’re in the hospital.”

  He just stared at me, fear in his eyes.

  Within seconds the nurse was in the room, followed by the doctor. I was ushered out, glad to have Liam in the hands of people who could help him. My own hands still had his blood on them, symbolically speaking, since I had rejected an author who might have put him here. I quivered and lowered myself to the floor and leaned against the wall, silent tears streaming down my face.

  CHAPTER 12

  Now that Liam was out of his coma, the nurses suggested I go home and get some rest, and I felt guiltily thankful. I was done with the hospital. I was done with Liam’s staring, his struggles to make any sense of the situation.

  I made sure to get outside the hospital before turning on my cell phone, spurred by the warning signs posted all over. I was planning just to call Cleo. Now that Liam was awake I didn’t feel right about using his room phone. Once my phone was on, however, I saw I had a voicemail. It was from Adam.

  When I had called him, I’d felt lost, lonely, desperate. In the meantime, Liam had come out of his coma and I was free to go home.

  True, I was annoyed that he hadn’t quite been there for me when I most needed him. But judging from the log on my phone he’d called only shortly after my call—only, he’d dialed my cell phone, which had been off. And he could not have known where in the hospital to call. I was still a little irked, but my common sense reminded me I could not really blame him.

  I pressed the button to dial my missed call. Adam picked up on the first ring.

  “Eliza, are you okay? I hadn’t heard back from you. I was worried.”

  “I’m at the hospital—”

  “What hospital? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “My roommate was in an accident. I’ve been here with him all day, but Liam’s out of his coma now.”

  There was silence on the line. I pulled the phone from my ear to check the reception bars. Full reception on my end.

  “Are you there, Adam?”

  “Yeah,” he replied haltingly. “Um, did you say it was Liam?”

  “Yes, someone hit him while he was driving my car. He was in critical condition.”

  Adam paused, and when he began again his voice had lost its gentle sympathy. “So what you’re saying then, Eliza, is—no, I’m sorry. I guess this isn’t the right time. I’ll let you get back to Liam.”

  I wasn’t sure what had brought about the change. Surely he’d offer to be with me, or at least offer me a ride home. “I’m going home now. Liam’s out of his coma, and I need some rest. I got here first thing this morning when I got the doctor’s message, and I’ve been here all day.”

  “Liam doesn’t have family?”

  “They’re out of state, so I’m his emergency contact,” I replied. But then I started getting annoyed. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel guilty for being there for a friend. What did he expect from me? I shifted the phone to my other ear and set my free hand on my hip with a sigh. “Adam, just tell me what’s the matter. You sound upset, but I didn’t do anything wrong here—and I’m not going to apologize for visiting my roommate in the hospital.”

  Instead of backing down, apologizing, explaining he was not upset, Adam fired back. “That’s just it, Eliza. Your roommate. When Liam was at your house the other day you swore to me that he was just a friend and he was borrowing your car for the night. And now I find out that he’s still ‘borrowing’ your car, that you’re his emergency contact, and more importantly, you’re living with this guy.”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Adam.” Inside, I did feel a twinge of guilt.

  “It’s my business that you lied to me. Did you tell him that I was just a friend, too?”

  “No! I told him we were dating—”

  “And he was cool with that? That the woman he’s living with is dating around? Tell me, Eliza, was he in the bedroom next
to us when we were making love?”

  That was enough for me. “I’m hanging up, Adam. Since you obviously just want to argue about something that isn’t an issue, and blame me for having a roommate instead of being there for me, I’m going to call my sister to pick me up—”

  Adam sighed. “Eliza…”

  “No. Call me in a few days and we’ll see if we can have an adult conversation. Goodbye, Adam.”

  I shut my flip phone with a loud crack, the cell equivalent of slamming the phone down. Who did he think he was? I hadn’t lied! Liam is a friend!

  Had he expected me to give the long saga of Liam and me when all he was doing there was dropping off some damn newspapers?

  I called Cleo and asked her as calmly as possible if she could pick me up.

  * * *

  Her hair was plaited neatly back in a French braid that tucked under at the nape of her neck. Had she redone it after her nap, or did she even sleep perfectly? A deep green suit, perfectly tailored, sat against her dark skin in a way that made her look both professional and avant-garde at the same time. She’s darker than I, and she’d taken to the outdoors and sunlight, while I was most often found inside under a lamp and over a good book.

  “New car?” I asked, trying to act normal when I slid into the Ford Taurus. “It isn’t as glamorous as the ’Vette or as hip as the hybrid.”

  “The rental place was out of the cool cars.”

  “You have it so hard, Cleo. But why did you rent a car? You’re one person and have three cars at home.”

  “One is a government-issued car. I can only use it for Department of Homeland Security stuff.”

  “That’s right. So you have two cars left. Why the rental?”

  A pause. Damn it, I thought, I’ve offended her.

  I knew she made good money and could afford the extravagance of owning both a “fun car” and a “green car,” and I couldn’t tell if I was actually jealous of her success and passive-aggressively said stuff like this to make her feel bad about being a little on the materialistic side. Or did I say stuff like this innocently, and her defensive reaction was the bad behavior?

  I tried to soften my question, without quite apologizing. “I mean, you have all those cool cars, and now you’re renting a car.”

  She cleared her throat. “I, um, told you before about Jorge. He’s fixing my car.”

  “I must have been so excited about my date that night when you told me that I really didn’t pry about him as much as I should have.” My date. With that jealous bastard who is now mad at me for going to see my friend in the hospital.

  But then I thought about the date. He had asked if I was sure. He’d called me beautiful. He’d called me his goddess. My stomach ached.

  Cleo, her eyes on the road, didn’t notice my stone face. She replied to my words instead of my mood. “I was wondering why you didn’t pry. Ask about him more, you know. But you were close to your own date, and I figured that was why. No worries. I’d been hesitant to bring up my being at his place, because the truth is that I got in a little fender bender the other day, but everything’s fine. Then I had a meeting down here and I wasn’t going to show up with a dinged-up front bumper. Please. Jorge is fixing it only for the cost of the materials.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Only?”

  Cleo smiled. “Okay, we’ve gone out a few times and he’s great. He’s studying to be a body shop mechanic right now and, anyway, he’s going to work on it for me.”

  “So, what is that costing you?”

  We pulled into my driveway. “Nothing I wouldn’t have paid anyway.”

  Once inside the condo, I dropped onto the couch. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cupboard, Cleo.”

  Instead, Cleo caught my eye and sat down on the couch next to me. “You’re pretty tired, aren’t you? You shouldn’t let Liam affect you like this. It’s his own fault that he didn’t use his seatbelt, and I don’t think anyone wants to see you hurting for him.”

  “I know. It isn’t that. I mean, I do feel bad for him. I don’t want him to be going through this—”

  “But it is his own fault—”

  “Nevertheless. But, it’s…Adam.” I looked into Cleo’s clear, wide eyes.

  She grasped my hand, “What did he do?”

  I laughed. “You act like you’re going to call down the thunder, Cleo. Don’t take everything so seriously. It isn’t a big deal.”

  “But you’re acting like it’s a big deal. What happened?”

  I stood up and began pacing around the room. “Everything was going so well! We connected, he seems so normal. No baggage, no issues. He just liked me and I liked him—”

  “No one has no issues,” Cleo pointed out, and I knew she was right. Any impression that he was “so normal” was just from not knowing him long enough.

  “I called him from the hospital, and told him that Liam was there. He got all angry because I guess I had told him Liam was just a friend and now he thinks we’re living together!”

  “You are living together.”

  “As roommates! Not lovers, not living together. We just share a condo.”

  Cleo shook her head. “That damn Liam. Has he ruined another relationship for you?”

  I made my way into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. “Don’t damn him, Cleo,” I called into the other room. “He’s in the hospital and you should try to find it in your heart to get over the past for now. He hurt me, but he’s a decent person. Do you want a drink?”

  “Do you have any liquor?”

  “I have some vodka left, I think.”

  Cleo appeared in the kitchen next to me. “Do you have anything to mix with it?”

  “Some OJ. Shall we make some screwdrivers?”

  “Haven’t had one of those since college.”

  I pulled the juice out of the fridge and grabbed two glasses. “Our day has certainly justified some drinking. And as far as Adam goes, I’ll see if he calls me. If not, I’m letting it go.”

  Cleo watched me pouring the drinks. “A little more vodka in mine. Thanks, that’s good. And if Adam does call you?”

  I handed her a glass and toasted. “Then I’ll listen to his side of the story. I’ll let him blame it on his issues, his baggage. I’m okay if he’s not as normal as I thought, but he’s got to offer up his true self and stop blaming me.”

  * * *

  Cleo stayed with me, but I knew she’d leave when Liam came home. She couldn’t forgive him for breaking my heart, even after I’d forgiven him. She’d made it clear that she was staying with me to comfort me, not him.

  And finally, Sunday morning, he could come home.

  * * *

  I have never been good with invalids, I admit that. My desire to make everything “all better” always clashed with my desire to plan for the possibility of things not getting better. One thing I knew for sure, though, was that if you’re stuck on the couch with a cold or a full-body cast, you can’t beat an hour of Oprah or a few good movies. The exact reason that Cleo agreed to stay for a little longer than planned was so that I could make a run to One Dollar Video. Cleo offered to go, but as she ran upstairs to get my video card, Liam grabbed my arm and whispered, “No, please! She got Shine last time!”

  I decided I’d get one classic, one popular movie he had already seen and loved, and one documentary. The Charlie Chaplin flick Modern Times was a given for the classic, as was Forrest Gump for the pop film. In the documentary section I found plenty of films about “issues” that Liam would not need to deal with right now. One film stood out, The Living Sea, a video version of the IMAX movie. Liam had once thought he’d like to be a marine biologist, until he perused the science requirements for the major. So this would be perfect for him. Relaxing. Interesting. Healing. With music by Sting. Perfect.

  Back at home, The Living Sea was definitely the most popular option. Liam wanted to watch it right away, and we started it as Cleo was ready to make her exit, sitting down to slide on her shoes befo
re heading back to Orange County. I sat next to Liam, thinking about everything but the movie.

  What am I going to do about my car?

  How can I slip away and call Adam?

  Then it happened. A song (composed by Sting most likely, since there were no words to be sung by him in this one) was about thirty seconds in when Liam started shaking. His eyes glazed over and he was no longer watching the movie. He blinked hard, shook his head, and started muttering hoarsely. I moved in closer to hear what he was saying, what was wrong. His voice got louder and more insistent. “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

  Cleo and I made a mad attempt to find the remote, any remote, and it was I who finally clicked the TV off completely. I rushed back to Liam, who was sweating and shaking, while Cleo went to the entertainment center to pop out the DVD and put it in its box.

  “I’ll…I’ll return this on the way home,” she said uneasily.

  I smoothed Liam’s hair and tried to focus his attention on me. When he was calm, I could hold back no longer. “What happened, Liam? What was it?”

  Liam looked uncomfortably at Cleo, who had not been able to peel herself away from the spot where she stood, movie in hand.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was weak. “I’m sorry, you guys. That was just weird.”

  “Was it something in the movie?” I asked.

  “That song…”

  We waited for him to take a few breaths before he continued.

  “I think that song was on the radio when that guy crashed into me. When he hit my car. Your car, I mean. It was like it got to that certain part in the song and I felt all those feelings, like fear, pain, all over. It must have been at that exact point in the song when he hit me or something, because I don’t remember any of the beginning. Anyway, I’m really sorry.”

  Cleo glared at him doubtfully. “That song was on the radio?”

  “Yeah,” Liam said, not looking up.