pulled me into the service elevator just in time.”
“Yeah, a feeding frenzy,” Taylor said. And all of it would come out now, he thought, looking down at Lindsay, who was awake but so doped up that she was nearly insensible.
“Taylor, I hate to tell you this, but—”
“What is it, Demos?”
“It’s her father, the judge. He’s down there and it looks like he’s going to be a pain in the ass again.”
Taylor just stared at Demos. “The bastard. What is he saying?”
“Glen is down there listening to him, waiting for us. I just heard him mumbling something about how she always liked publicity even when she was only eighteen and in Paris after she’d seduced her brother-in-law. She loves to show herself off—she’s a model, isn’t she—always taking off her clothes for everyone to see her. And bad things happen when she’s around. Jesus, you’d think she shot herself! I don’t know if he’s talking now to the reporters. He probably is by now.”
Taylor very slowly rose from his chair beside her bed. He smiled at Demos. “That settles it. It’s really enough. Father or no father, I’m going to bash his head in.”
Demos didn’t try to stop him. He wanted to assist him if Taylor would only let him.
Another police officer stood outside the door. “Don’t move a muscle, Dempsey. And don’t you even consider letting God or any of his angels in, you got that?”
“Yes, sir.” Dempsey had heard about what Fogel had done. Jesus, a fly wouldn’t get close to the lady as long as he was here.
Taylor felt calm. He would do what he had to. This hatred of the father for the daughter. He simply couldn’t comprehend it. Now he didn’t care. He would stop the man once and for all. When he reached the lobby, it was pandemonium. Reporters were yelling questions, cameras were everywhere. And there, in the middle of all the chaos, stood Judge Royce Foxe, dapper and handsome, looking every inch the stalwart judge, which he was, but now he wasn’t saying a thing. Sydney stood next to him, her chin high, looking gorgeous and determined. She was pulling him through the throng now, just smiling, her jaw set, looking straight ahead. She saw Taylor and nodded. She said something sharp to her father.
Without a word, Taylor followed her, weaving in and out of the pushing and shoving reporters, just keeping her in sight. It took only a few seconds for a reporter to recognize him, then the pack was on his back. He said nothing, merely kept shoving them from his path. If he’d been a woman, he wouldn’t have had a chance. They were merciless. Sydney was headed to the administration section of the hospital. He slipped inside the CEO’s office after her and Royce Foxe, Demos behind him. Some bright assistant slammed and locked the door in the reporters’ faces.
“Thank you,” Sydney said to the three hospital administrators. “Please leave me now with my father. He hasn’t been well and I must speak to him.”
The men didn’t look happy. Taylor said, “Yes, you’re needed out there before the media tear up the hospital, and don’t think they won’t.”
That hadn’t occurred as a possibility, and the three men were quickly gone. This time Demos locked the door after them.
Sydney said, looking up at her brother-in-law, “It’s all right, Taylor. Nothing he said hit the reporters’ ears. Just Demos and Glen heard him, and a couple of hospital employees. I stopped him in time. It’s all right. Now, I need to get him to the airport and back to California. Demos, you want to help me?”
As Sydney left, Taylor said, “Why did you stop him? Why, Sydney?”
“Because he’s mad with hate and…”
Taylor stared at her. “And?”
She just shook her head.
“Oh, yeah, Sydney, if he’d opened his trap to the media, he would have ruined all chances of getting any of Lindsay’s money, right? That’s why you stopped him.”
“No!”
“So you were afraid for yourself, afraid that the scandal would hurt you this time, not Lindsay. God, lady, you are a piece of work.”
She slapped him hard.
He didn’t move. He just smiled down at her. “Take him out of here before I beat him into ground meat.”
“God, I hope she kicks you out!”
Taylor just smiled, shaking his head.
Lindsay sat up in bed, staring toward the darkened windows, thinking about how lucky she was. Her face, after additional CT scans ordered by Dr. Perry, who had been scared into the hiccups, had turned out all right. There were three strips of tape over the suture lines, pulling the skin tight, after her violent exertion. Her ribs hadn’t made out quite so well, but they would mend. The bullet wound wasn’t bad but she’d lost a goodly amount of blood. It turned out that Taylor had the same type and had donated.
She wasn’t in shock, which surprised everyone. She’d come around, stared down at the stitched-up hole in her arm, and simply said to Taylor, “Oh, dear, will I have a scar?”
And he’d laughed. He still was laughing when the nurse had bandaged the wound. She was in a private room. Not the same one as before, but it could have been, except this one faced the river. This one had a Degas print on the wall opposite the bed.
“Let’s keep her here overnight.” That was Dr. Shantel speaking to Taylor near the door. Why not to her? Lindsay wondered. She wasn’t a Victorian maiden to swoon. She nearly crossed her eyes. She had swooned. It was rather a shock to know that her body could simply give out on her like that.
“It’s been a series of traumas,” she heard Dr. Shantel tell Taylor in a much-lowered voice. “ Perhaps I can recommend a good psychiatrist, you know, the type of doctor who can help her get over this.”
“I don’t need a shrink,” Lindsay said in a loud voice. “What I need is to know who hired Oswald. If we don’t find that out soon, then I will go into shock and I’ll go directly to Bellevue.”
“She’s right,” Taylor said. “Look, Dr. Shantel, I’ll keep a close eye on her. She’s got grit and she can be as mean as Satan, and she’s not stupid. She’ll tell me if things get shaky. Don’t worry. Even if she doesn’t, I’m not stupid. Okay?”
When they were finally alone, for the first time since the attack in their apartment, Taylor said, “I just spoke to Barry. Oswald’s in surgery. His chances are fifty-fifty. No, it wasn’t any of your blows, it was the bullet in the head fired by the officer. Now, sweetheart, how are you doing?”
“Can I get combat pay?”
He was immensely pleased. He wondered how much of her smart-ass talk was bravado, but realized it didn’t matter. She was holding up and showing him clearly that she was holding up. That meant a great deal to both of them. He lay down on the bed beside her, turning on his side to face her. “Your face isn’t going to fall off. Dr. Perry is relieved. He says the swelling will hang around awhile longer and to keep these three little strips of tape over the suture lines. You got it?”
She nodded. “It’s a relief to me too. Do I look really gruesome?”
“Yes, but I’m somewhat nearsighted so it doesn’t bother me all that much.”
“Do you know something, Taylor?”
He was nuzzling her neck. “What?”
“I haven’t been bored since I met you. On the other hand, I don’t know if my body can keep mending itself in time for you to come up with new diversions.”
He suddenly became very quiet in mid-kiss.
“Taylor?”
He raised himself on his elbow and looked down at her. He said very slowly, “I think that you’ve just hit on something.”
She just looked up at him, saying nothing. Her arm burned, but it wasn’t important. She scarcely even noticed it.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Maybe we’ve been looking at this from the wrong end. You just said I’m the one coming up with new diversions. What if these attacks on you aren’t directed at you but at me?”
