Beast in the Tower. Julie Miller
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wasn’t the only detail she noticed.
With every deepening breath, Kit inhaled medicinal soap and leather, along with the odd scent of roses. Though shadowy in form, there was no mistaking the reality and substance of this man. He was lanky. Long-limbed. Solid. The crisp chill of winter clung to his coat, but his mouth radiated a heat against her skin that was dangerously enticing. The beeps of distant monitors chirped in the distance, but it was the gravelly husk of his low-pitched whisper that commanded her attention.
“Thank you for taking care of Helen.”
Helen? He knew Helen? Kit mumbled the question against his hand.
“I will repay my debt to you.”
Her toes touched the floor as he released his grip on her. Kit sucked in a deep breath and worked the stiffness from her jaw. “What debt? Who—”
“No. Don’t turn around.” A large palm at the center of her back seared her to the bone. The heat of that firm, commanding touch was enough to hold her in place. “Don’t.”
Kit pressed her lips together and peered straight ahead into the darkness. A chill swept in and raised goose bumps beneath her sweater as his hand left her. Hadn’t ten seconds passed yet? Or had she lost all track of time the instant her vision had failed her?
“I don’t want your money. Who are you?” The heat was gone. He was gone. “Wait.” Ignoring his order, Kit whirled around.
Ten.
Emergency lights flickered on, bathing the lobby and hallways with a greenish glow. Kit blinked until her eyes adjusted to the eerie twilight. “Hey.” What happened to Tall, Dark and Creepy? “Mister?”
She thought she caught a glimpse of black stealing around the corner. The sweep of movement was longer and more flowing than the white coats and colorful uniforms of the nurses and staff. Kit hurried after it. “Wait. Tell me about Helen. The hospital needs to know her last name and address.”
By the time she skirted the corner, the shadowy figure had vanished. “No way.”
The dead-end hallway was empty. The door to a utility closet stood ajar and Kit peeked inside. Nothing.
Almost nothing.
She squinted as a small box on the closet’s back wall caught her eye. Kit touched it with her fingertips, then flinched from its ticking pulse. It was some sort of timer linked to an electrical conduit. Was it just an unlikely coincidence that this door stood open? Was that box part of the backup generator system? Or had the man with the ruined voice done something to the power grid? Why? Surely not just to cop a free feel and thank her for being a good neighbor to Helen.
Helen.
With suspicion thumping her heart against her chest, Kit ran back the opposite direction, past the warning call of the attending nurse, back to the ICU rooms. “Helen?”
The white-haired woman still lay in her bed, unmoved, unconscious. But there was something different, something out of place. Kit zeroed in on the unexpected spot of color on the white blanket.
“What is going on?” Kit’s whisper fogged the viewing window.
Instead of wiping it clear, she pushed open the door and went inside the chilled room for a closer look. A single pink long-stemmed rose lay next to Helen’s hand. The familiar scent and suspicious timing told Kit that he had brought the flower, and that the dark, powerful scrawl on the card tied to the rose was his.
Kit leaned in closer to decipher the handwriting in the dim light. “Helen Hodges. Age: 72. Allergies: Penicillin.” The back side of the card listed medications for asthma and arthritis, as well as an insurance number.
“Not much of a romantic, is he.” But definitely someone who cared enough to ensure that Helen Hodges received the proper treatment. Someone who cared, period. Kit wrapped her fingers around the woman’s fragile hand. “Who was he, Helen?”
Who was the secretive man with the warm lips and ruined voice?
A son who had an aversion to hospitals, perhaps? A grandson who preferred the darkness? A lawyer or accountant who was afraid he’d get stuck with the hospital bill if he was seen?
“Is he a criminal? Ex-husband?” No. His body had been too young and strong to be a contemporary of Helen’s. “Is he part owl or bat?”
But Kit’s tired attempt at humor couldn’t even elicit her own smile. “Do you even know he was here?”
The pale, expressionless face gave no answer.
A sweep of warmer air told Kit the door had opened behind her. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, quickly ascertaining that he hadn’t returned.
“You need to leave, Miss Snow.” Judging by the sharp tone, any sympathy the nurse had felt for Kit’s persistent vigil had worn off. “We can’t have anyone extra in the way when the main power’s off-line like this.”
“The monitors never stopped working, did they?” Kit was thinking out loud as much as asking a question. “He didn’t jeopardize the patients. He just wanted to remain anonymous.”
But why?
Why?
“He?” the nurse asked.
“You didn’t see anyone besides me come into this room, did you?” But Kit already knew the answer was no.
“Good night, Miss Snow.”
Kit acknowledged the dismissal with a nod. “Her name is Helen Hodges. There’s health information on the card here. I’d double check everything, of course, but I have a feeling it’s accurate.”
“Now.”
Pulling the rose’s soft bud into Helen’s palm, Kit closed her slender fingers around it. “He must care about you an awful lot to go to all this trouble.” The nurse cleared her throat and Kit raised her hands in surrender. “I’m going. I’m going.”
As soon as Kit stepped outside the door, every light on the floor flashed back on. She reached for a wall and braced herself while her eyes readjusted to the harsh intrusion of brightness. First the darkness had blinded her, and now the sudden glare rendered her just as helpless.
A perfect diversion.
“Damn.”
Curious to know more about the man who’d grabbed her like an attacker while insisting he meant her no harm, Kit hurried to the lobby. Empty. No one but uniformed staff prowled the hallways. She went back to the utility closet to inspect her only clue to the man’s appearance and mysterious vanishing act.
But the timing device had disappeared now, as well.
She could almost chalk up the entire incident as a fantasy of her weary imagination. The blackout had lasted a matter of seconds. The backup lights had run just a minute or two longer. Everything was back to normal. Back to quiet. Back to her being alone in the middle of the night without the change to call home.
Then she detected it. The lingering scents of leather and soap stirred her pulse. That man—Helen’s unseen friend—had been in here. He had caused that precise, patient-friendly power outage.
Kit strolled back to the phones, trying to organize her observations into a pattern that made sense. The man in the leather coat and gloves had sought her out in the darkness for a reason. He’d come to see Helen. But he’d come for Kit, too.
She caught her breath and froze, knowing for certain that their meeting hadn’t been accidental.
I will repay my debt.
And Kit had a funny feeling he wasn’t talking about the stack of quarters scattered across the telephone counter in the lobby.
Chapter Three
“Where were you last night?” Kit looked up from her bowl of soggy cereal and