Part 3 (2/2)
Dr. Avery is making a house call.
Chapter Seven.
He pushes off from the gate when he sees me and joins me at the boardwalk. ”I love your place,” he says enthusiastically.
He's grinning and looking around, which gives me a chance to give him the once over. The last time I saw him he was in doctor garb, covered from head to toe. Now, however, in this outfit, I'm treated to a display of muscular arms, powerful shoulders, and long, st.u.r.dy legs all tanned bronze. It takes me a minute to work my gaze from this tall, unexpectedly athletic form back up to his face. He's wearing black aviator Ray Bans which s.h.i.+eld his eyes, but his mouth reflects unabashed humor as he watches me check him out.
I keep my expression studiously neutral as I meet his gaze. ”Did you come for the scrubs?” I ask. ”I would have returned them to you, you know. You didn't have to make the trip.”
”Nope, not the scrubs.” He grins a little wider and dangles a set of car keys in front of my face.
Car keys that look very familiar. ”Are those mine?”
”Yep. Thought you might need your car. I made arrangements to get it back for you.” A brief pause. ”I also took the liberty of having it detailed. It was, well, a little messy inside.”
I take the keys from his outstretched hand and look at him with upturned eyebrows. ”How did you manage to get my car? I can't imagine the police would just release it to you.”
He shrugs. ”I have friends in high places.” He looks over my shoulder. ”Speaking of which, where's your friend Michael? I thought he was bringing you home.”
I hesitate. What explanation can I give for being alone?
But he doesn't give me the chance to come up with anything. He jumps right in, giving me a conspiratorial wink. ”I suspected you hadn't called him.”
His smugness is annoying.
”Oh? How do you know I didn't call him? He could be inside, right now, fixing me lunch.”
Those feather-like laugh lines I noticed in the hospital crinkle around the Ray Bans. ”Is he?”
Well, no. But I'm not telling Dr. Avery that. And how the h.e.l.l does he know I didn't call Michael, anyway?
”I didn't think so,” he responds. ”Calling that cab to pick you up gave it away.”
My jaw sags a little. Had I spoken out loud?
”No,” he answers.
That's it. This is getting creepy. ”Okay.” I put steel in my voice. ”Are you psychic? Is this some kind of trick?”
He puts a hand on my elbow and steers me toward my gate. ”Invite me inside,” he says. ”And I'll answer all your questions.”
I pull away. ”I don't think so.” I don't invite strange men into my home, and this guy is even stranger than most. I have no intention of being alone with him, doctor or no.Dr. Avery removes his sungla.s.ses. His eyes lock me in their gaze. ”I won't hurt you, Anna,” he says softly. ”In fact, I can help you.
You have a lot of questions about what happened to you with Donaldson. I have the answers.”
His voice, velvet-edged and insistent, sends a ripple of tranquil acceptance through me. I know with absolute certainty that he won't hurt me. Unhesitatingly, I lead the way to the door and unlock it, holding it open for him to pa.s.s through. ”Welcome to my home.”
As Dr. Avery takes a seat on the couch, he grins up at me and says again, ”I really do love your home. I mean it, this is a great place.”
But I'm not going to be sidetracked. Now that we're inside, that unshakable confidence I felt just a moment before melts away. I perch myself on the edge of an overstuffed chair facing him. ”Now what do you have to tell me about Donaldson?”
As soon as I say it, a primitive warning resonates in my brain. What could he possibly know about Donaldson? Unless he's gotten more of those tests back and- ”No, no, it's nothing medical.”
He's done it again. I launch myself up and at him, seething with mounting rage. ”Okay, that's it. How are you doing that? It's not funny, it's not clever, and it's really p.i.s.sing me off.”
My outburst doesn't faze him. He crosses one tanned leg over the other and looks right at me.
Try it yourself.
The voice comes out of nowhere. Or rather, it comes frominside my head.
See?The voice continues.Now try saying something to me.
”What the h.e.l.l do you mean?”
No.Dr. Avery's brow wrinkles slightly, as though he's concentrating harder.Don't answer with your voice. Use your mind.
Are you nuts?
He beams.Now that wasn't hard, was it?
I sink back into the armchair, suddenly woozy with surprise and dread. Did I really do that? Project my thoughts to him?
Of course you did, Dr. Avery responds, his face lit up like a child's at Christmas. There's pride and delight and wonder all mingled together.You are a quick study. I knew it the moment I saw you at the hospital.
Saw what at the hospital?
I catch him before he can respond in that eerie telepathic way. I hold up a hand and insist grimly, ”No. Talk to me. The normal way. This is creeping me out.”
A shadow of disappointment replaces the glow on his face. ”I thought you'd be at least a little pleased to know how well you're progressing. Most don't come this far this fast.”
”Most what?”
He gives me a sideways glance. ”Come on. You must know what you're becoming.”
The hair on the back of my neck is rising, along with goose b.u.mps the size of marshmallows on my arms. ”What I'm becoming?”
He thinks,You're beginning to sound like a parrot.My G.o.d, how do I know that?
Out loud, he's saying, ”I knew you'd have questions about Donaldson, but I thought they'd be along the 'what can I expect and how do I handle it' line.”
”Handle what?”
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