LOST AND FOUND - PART X

RELATIVITY

Chapter 88

The tall, narrow windows of Simon Albrecht's townhouse were brightly lit, even though midnight had passed more than an hour before. Weary, pale-faced servants tried to move about as quickly they could, completing their tasks while still being wary of the gimlet eye and capricious temper of their new mistress – Simon's diminutive sister Winnifred.

A faint silken rustle was the only sound she made as she gracefully descended the main staircase and the exhausted footmen still on duty in the front hall hurried to open the pocket doors to the drawing room.

When the doors slid almost silently shut behind her, a tawny bear of a man quickly rose from his chair by the fire and turned in her direction.

The unrelieved black of her mourning attire, raven hair, and the darkest of eyes served to increase the luminous quality of her fine complexion. Startlingly dark red lips framed her small mouth and they briefly pressed together in a line as her sharp chin rose.

"Mr. Conrad...you are late..."

The man's heavy red-gold brows rose in surprise at hearing a deeply feminine voice coming from such a small woman. He blinked then gave her his most disarming smile.

"Please accept my apology, Mrs. Harte. I'm sorry I did not receive your message until after I returned home around half-past twelve." Her chin rose slightly higher.

"I see," she said tersely and took her time surveying his robust form, starting at the toes of his brilliantly polished boots and not stopping until their gazes met. The bright firelight sparked in his thick mane of red-gold hair and his large white teeth flashed again in the midst of his full mustache and beard.

"Sir, I expected you to be here today. You WERE aware of our arrival date, were you not?" Even though he knew nothing would completely appease this woman's autocratic pique, he tried a slightly different tact.

"Yes Ma'am, I was and on my honor I promise you I will instruct my staff to immediately forward any message from you no matter what the hour or where I might be."

Expecting some sort of positive reaction he waited for a moment, but when none was forthcoming he plunged on and promptly put his foot in it.

"I also assumed you would prefer to rest for a few days after being at sea for so long..."

"REST?" her eyes opened wide and flared with dark sparks. All he could do was watch, fascinated as she stiffened with fury and stalked toward him, not stopping until their bodies almost touched.

"How can I ever rest knowing that the man who murdered my brother is walking about free?"

"What man?" he asked, truly confused as he stared down into her upturned face. She seized the lapels of his heavy tweed suit coat and tried to shake him.

"Adam Cartwright, you idiot!" Two hectic spots of color bloomed high on her cheeks and he became truly alarmed. His rough hands closed over hers as he tried in vain to loosen her grip.

"Mrs. Harte! Please!" He tugged gently on her wrists. "Calm yourself!" Taking a deep breath, he tried to reason with her.

"Didn't your husband explain what happened? Adam Cartwright didn't actually kill Simon, some lunatic woman did..."

She tried to shake him again then practically hissed in frustration before letting go and slapping his hands away.

"Don't touch me!" she ordered and he let his hands fall to his sides, becoming more than a little exasperated with her and what he viewed as nothing more than a royal temper tantrum.

Turning abruptly away, she began to pace back and forth with her hands clasped together in front – her knuckles white from the pressure.

"Some lunatic woman...you must think I'M a lunatic if you expect me to believe that..."

"I take it that you disagree with the official verdict," he ground out with deep sarcasm.

Winnifred stopped pacing in min stride and when she turned to face him he could see she was grinding her teeth in an effort to rein in her galloping fury.

"Are you really that stupid?" she snapped. "So stupid you believe a woman, a DYING woman, was able to disembowel a man of my brother's stature and strength?"

He winced mentally, surprised she knew the physical details of her brother's death. Deeply annoyed, he decided to drop the conventions of polite society and speak plainly too.

"Mrs. Harte, your brother was already badly injured and, I'm sure, unable to defend himself."

Her fashionably pale complexion blanched even whiter and her lips briefly trembled for a moment before her face crumpled and she threw herself into the nearest chair.

Sighing, Reuben folded his arms across his barrel chest and watched, carefully noting everything about her artfully tragic pose.

The flickering flames in the huge fireplace brought out the blue-black sheen of her hair and made the delicate, pale fingers covering her face seem almost translucent. Her thin shoulders shook with muffled sobs while the graceful arch of her long neck in profile completed the portrait of fragile despair.

"Madam," he finally said in a choked voice, "I have to admit I am torn between laughter and applause." She froze and he waited, his golden-brown eyes shining with wicked amusement.

Her hands fell into her lap and she shifted to face him, her eyes dry and her expression cool.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Conrad. I seem to have misread you." Her voice was calmly polite. "You AREN'T as dumb as you look."

The corners of her mouth lifted for just a split second when he threw his head back, releasing a roar of loud, unrestrained laughter.

"All right then," he chuckled and relaxed, sweeping the sides of his suit coat back to shove his hands into his trouser pockets. "I think we understand each other now."

"Not quite yet," she stood and moved across the space between them to stand directly in front of him again. Her sleek head tipped back and her dark wide-eyed gaze fastened on his face.

"Understand this – I will do anything, pay anything, and use anyone necessary to destroy the man who murdered my brother."

His smile sharpened as he softly echoed her words, "DO anything?"

"Yes," her eyes narrowed and she smiled for the first time.

"You see, I know all about you Reuben. I know about every shady deal, every swindle, and every bought-and-paid-for public official in your past. My brother told me everything about your business partnership just in case I should ever need your help." She moved even closer and he pulled his hands from his pockets.

"And that is how I know you are the perfect man for this job."

"Ah Winnifred," he breathed as he reached to gather her stiff, but unresisting from into his arms.

"NOW we understand each other..."

When Mike's chin hit his chest for what seemed like the hundredth time he sighed with weariness. Yawning as he stretched, he sat up in his chair before opening his eyes.

Watery morning light filled the stark-white hospital room where TJ had been laying insensate for the past three days.

Slowly getting to his feet, he pressed both palms to the small of his back and stretched again, leaning backward as far as he could. The cracking sounds coming from his spine were so loud he automatically glanced at the tall young woman lying in the narrow bed. Then he shook his head, smiling at his own foolishness in thinking sounds could bring her out of her coma.

Moving to the nearest window, he propped one hip on the sill and idly watched the activity in the street below for some time before realizing he had seen something different – something out of place in the room. He carefully swept his sharp gaze around the room, but saw nothing to account for his unease until his eyes settled on the bed.

TJ was lying on her stomach with her pillow clutched in both arms and her face practically buried in it.

He quickly straightened up and silently moved toward the bed, his heart starting to thump hard with hope.

Just as he reached the bed, she made an odd snorting noise into the pillow then turned her face in his direction. Her brows furrowed and she rocked from side-to-side briefly before starting to snore softly.

Mike slowly placed both hands on the bed and bent down until they were almost note-to-nose when her eyes suddenly popped open and she erupted in a flurry of flailing limbs and piercing shrieks.

Badly startled, he tried to pull back as she rolled toward the other side of the bed, but one of her hands connected, hitting the side of his head with a resounding "THWACK."

The next thing he knew he was lying face down on the floor, his head filled with the buzzing sound of a hundred angry bees. But he could still hear thumps and scratching noises as she scrambled around on the floor on the other side of the bed, punctuated with inarticulate cries of frightened rage.

Quickly pushing up onto his knees, he twisted to brace his forearms on the bed, but didn't have enough time to react before an enamel basin came flying straight at him and bounced off his forehead with a dull "CLANG." He landed on his back this time.

"Oh for God's sake," he sighed with exasperation while reaching up with one hand to carefully probe the already-swelling lump over his left eye.

The loud rattling crash of a drawer full of medical instruments hitting the floor made him jump where he lay and masked the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. The door flew open.

"What in heaven's name is going on in here?" Thea's loud voice seemed to echo in the now quiet room.

"Mike?" She took a step into the room then paused to give the door another impatient shove out of the way, unaware she had just delivered another solid blow to the top of the now unconscious deputy's head. Her brows flew up dramatically when she saw that the bed was empty.

Glancing quickly around with narrowed eyes, she opened her mouth to call her patient's name when she heard an odd muffled sound coming from the far corner next to the dresser. She hurried around the foot of the bed, but abruptly stopped, startled by the sight of the tall young woman crouching in the corner while holding a scalpel in one hand and a pair of pointed shears in the other.

The two stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments until Thea softly said her name. TJ jumped slightly and then blinked rapidly until her eyes opened wide, looking up at the other woman as though she just recognized her.

The scalpel and shears slipped from her now shaking hands and a harsh sound struggled to escape her straining throat as she shuffled across the floor on her knees.

Thea braced herself and only staggered back one step when TJ seized her around the wait in a crushing embrace.

"Now try to calm down," she managed to take in enough air to say while gently smoothing stray wisps of chestnut hair back from her patient's flushed face.

The younger woman's throat worked and her face turned a deeper red as she struggled to speak until Thea pressed a finger across her lips and shook her head.

"Don't try to force it," she said firmly, yet kindly then tugged on the other woman's arms to loosen her grip.

"Let's get you back into bed," she urged and bent down to help her patient up. "You just rest," she continued as she drew the covers up.

"Promise me you'll stay in bed and I'll go find your uncle Charles," Thea smiled at TJ's eager nod and then turned away.

"And THEN I'll try to find out where the hell Mike has gotten to," she grumbled under her breath as she hurried out, leaving the door standing open.