Diagnosis: Attraction. Rebecca York
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wanted to ask, “Then why have a card?” but he kept the question to himself.
Wilson gave Matt a penetrating look, and Matt had the feeling that he wanted to say, “You’re in big trouble if you don’t call.”
But he said nothing more.
* * *
THE RINGING OF THE phone woke Elizabeth, and when she looked outside, it was getting dark.
She dressed in her new clothes, then hurried into the living room, hoping it might be Matthew Delano on the phone. But it sounded like Polly was talking to someone else. She had a pad of paper and a pencil in her hand and was writing something down.
When she hung up, she looked at Elizabeth. “A man came to the nursing station asking about you.”
“Who?”
“He said his name was Bob Wilson and that he was your brother.”
“Bob Wilson,” she repeated, saying the name a couple of times aloud.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
“No, but that’s not surprising. I mean, nothing has come back to me except—” She stopped abruptly.
“Except what?”
“Except the part about my name,” she said, unwilling to relate that, when Matthew Delano had touched her, a whole slew of memories had come flashing back to her. But telling Polly about that would sound strange. Really, Elizabeth wouldn’t have believed it herself if it hadn’t happened to her.
And she didn’t want to make her benefactor think that Elizabeth Doe had lost her marbles as well as her memory. “This Bob Wilson person spoke to someone at the hospital?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Cynthia Price. She’s one of the other nurses on the floor. She heard me and Dr. Delano talking about my taking you home.”
Elizabeth felt her stomach knot. “But she didn’t tell him where I’d gone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I asked her not to.”
“Why?”
“Because Dr. Delano and I both agreed that you’re in some kind of trouble, and it’s best to find out what it is before revealing your location.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, a feeling of relief settling over her.
In the next second, it popped into her head that the normal thing to do in this situation would be to call the police, but she dismissed that idea as soon as it surfaced. It simply didn’t feel right. Which was a hunch she didn’t much like.
She folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her upper arms.
“You look worried,” Polly said.
“I can’t help wondering if Cynthia told him where I was.”
“I understand, but she’s very reliable. Why don’t you start dinner? I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
“If you’ll show me around your kitchen first.”
Polly led her to the back of the house, where she gave her a quick tour and got out some of the supplies that Elizabeth was going to need, including a big pot.
“You know how to use an electric stove?”
“You have to wait a moment for the heat to go up or down.”
“That’s right. Will you be okay for a while?” Polly asked.
“I think so.”
Mrs. Kramer left, and Elizabeth put the pot on the stove, then used the knife and cutting board to chop the onions.
She put them into the pot with the ground beef and began to sauté them, soothed by the simple act of meal preparation. It was familiar, routine work, but it was also reassuring doing something useful and comforting that she had no problem remembering how to do.
When the meat began to stick to the bottom of the pot, she turned down the heat and added a little water, stirring as she watched it change from red to brown.
Should she add the spices while the meat and onions were browning or wait until she got the salsa into the pot?
She let the task of cooking dinner completely absorb her, breathing in the smell of the chili when she had all the ingredients in the pot, including a can of tomato sauce she found in the pantry because she needed to supplement the salsa. She was just tasting the seasonings when the doorbell rang.
Elizabeth went rigid, then glanced toward the back door. That guy who’d come to the hospital had found out where she was, and she had to get away before he came in here.
Chapter Four
When Polly opened the front door, Matt stepped into the living room. “Thanks for calling me.”
“I didn’t mean to drag you over, but thanks for coming,” the nurse said.
“I was telling myself it was unethical to keep seeing Elizabeth. Now I think it’s unethical not to, if I think she’s in trouble.”
Mrs. Kramer nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Where is she?”
“In the kitchen. Cooking dinner. I thought it would give her something to do.”
Matt took an appreciative sniff. “Smells good. Did you have to help her, or did she remember how to fix a meal?”
“I just showed her around the kitchen, and she got busy all by herself.”
“Good.”
They walked to the back of the house and stopped short when they saw the kitchen was empty, a simmering pot was on the stove, and the back door was open.
“Where is she?” Matt asked, feeling his stomach knot.
“She was right here,” Polly murmured.
Matt looked toward the open back door and cursed under his breath. “Did you say something that would frighten her?”
“I told her a man who called himself Bob Wilson had been asking for her at the nurses’ station. That was before I called you, and you said the same guy had been to your office.”
Matt clenched his fists as he walked to the back door and looked out at the darkened yard. “She must have heard the doorbell, assumed the worst and ran. You look through the house in case she changed her mind and ducked back inside. I’ll look outside.”
“I’m sorry. I should have warned her that you were coming over,” Polly said.
“We’ll find her,” he said, to reassure himself and Mrs. Kramer. As he stepped onto the cracked patio, a security light came on.
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth, it’s me. Matt Delano,” he called.
When she didn’t answer, he looked around. Polly’s yard butted against the property in back of her and to the sides. Elizabeth would have to climb over several fences to get far. His gaze landed on the metal storage shed just inside the range of the security light.
Quickly he hurried to the door and thrust it open, although he didn’t charge inside, because his experiences in Africa had taught him not to rush into an enclosed space if he didn’t know who might be in there. Lucky for him. He jumped back as a baseball bat came swooshing down. It missed his head by less than an inch.
The woman holding the weapon stared at him. “Oh, Lord, Matthew. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Polly told you someone called the nurses’ station, right?”
“Yes.”