A Blind Eye (13 page)

“And say what, exactly? I could tell him about my dream, but honestly, people don't believe in that stuff. ‘Hey, Detective, we found the crazy doctor who killed me in my dream.' I don't think so.”

True. We'd probably just get arrested again, for defamation of character or some other ridiculous charge. Parker didn't seem overly concerned about Scarlett's kidnapping. I doubt he even believed it.

“No to the police station, then.” I took us home by way of Chinese takeout. Scarlett was hungry. Again. When the last of the orange chicken was gone, we settled in on the couch. But I couldn't get Dr. Wyden's eye surgery out of my mind.

There had to be a reason for the kidnappers to target Scarlett. Did they want blind people to experiment on with their new retinal technology, or was there more? The old man at the store said Scarlett wouldn't qualify for the operation, so why bother to bring her here all the way from the UK? What was Dr. Wyden really up to? Or was Scarlett right—the London policeman narked on her, and Connor and Deepthroat didn't want to risk the chance that Scarlett would identify them? I couldn't imagine that the cops in London would be in cahoots with the Portland PD. There had to be a better connection.

“What's the deal with Shepherd Hill School? Did Dr. Wyden ever go there?” I asked.

“Not that I know of. In my dream and at the clinic are the only times I've ever seen her.” She grinned. “I don't mean
seen
, but . . . well, you know.”

“You said Katie wasn't blind. Why was she at your school?” I couldn't see the reason why Dr. Wyden would want both of these girls.

“Oi! It's not a school for the blind, it's a school for the gifted. Everyone there has something special.” She lowered her voice. “Or at least, something different.”

“Different how? Like other disabilities?” Maybe they just preyed upon girls they thought were weak. Although, despite her small size, I'd never classify Scarlett as weak. She was probably the strongest girl I knew. Who else could survive all that she'd been through?

“No. Different as in gifted. You know how they say if you lose one sense other senses get stronger?”

“Yeah, I've heard that.” I believed it too. Scarlett noticed as much or more without her eyes as I did with mine wide open.

“Well, at the Shepherd, they find people whose disability has elevated their other senses. Only they call it a gift.”

“And your gift is that you dream people's deaths before they happen?” Hardly a gift. More like a curse.

“Yes.”

“What was Katie's gift?”

“I already told you. She was a genius.
Is.
She can do anything with a computer. She practically put the tech guy out of a job. She was constantly inventing things. She said she was going to invent something to make her rich. Then we could live together and never have to worry about money again.”

“What was her disability?”

“She was born with a brain tumor. When she was still young, they tried to remove it, but they damaged her hearing. She was completely deaf in both ears. She had a cochlear implant, but she wasn't satisfied with the way it interpreted sounds. I've no idea what she did or how it operated, but she figured out a way to improve the sound quality to almost normal. And at the same time made the device half the size.”

Not that I was any kind of hearing-aid expert, but that seemed like it could be worth some money. “Maybe Dr. Wyden wanted to steal her invention. That would explain why they took Katie. That clinic today wasn't exactly crowded with patients.”

Scarlett thought for a second. “I s'pose. Then they could afford to hire a receptionist with some brains in her head.”

I laughed. “She was every blonde joke all rolled into one.”

“Hey, don't knock blondes. That's my real hair color.”

“Serious?” I'd assumed the black in the back of her hair was the natural color. I looked at her hair and couldn't find any light-colored roots like the goth girls at school had. Plus, Scarlett's eyebrows were dark. “You're lying.”

“You're catching on nicely. Not as thick as I thought.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” I shook my head. “How many kids went to your school?”

“Dunno.” She tipped her head to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Maybe eighty. Not a lot. It costs a bomb, so only the wealthy families can afford to send their kids there. And even then, only if they've been invited.”

But Scarlett didn't come from a wealthy family. “Then how'd you get in? No offense, and if you don't mind my asking.”

“They take a few charity cases each year. Katie and I were the charities.”

“But you weren't the only blind student, right?”

“No. There were loads.” Scarlett yawned and put her head back. She flipped her watch open and felt it. “Nearly eleven. Shouldn't your dad be home by now? On a Saturday?”

If she was trying to shift the focus from her to me, I wasn't going to let that happen. I'd told her enough at the cemetery. I didn't want to go there again. “Gloria's out of town, and there's nothing here he wants to come home to.” Truth was, he probably would be home soon, and I didn't want to see him. I faked a loud yawn. “I'm going to bed.” I stood up and asked, “Are you coming?”

She cocked her head to the side and grinned. “I thought you said you have boundaries.”

“I don't mean . . . you know. In
my
bed. Just, do you want help up the stairs to your bed? Room.” I needed to turn down the thermostat; it was hot in here.

“Sure.” She chuckled and held out her hand. I hooked it onto my arm, enjoying the way it felt there.

* * *

I woke tired and groggy a little before nine. It had taken me a long time to fall asleep. Scenes of Dr. Wyden and her death clinic dueled with scenes of being locked away for murder—life without parole. I'd tossed and turned until the small hours of the morning before finally finding deep sleep. At least Scarlett seemed to make it through the night without incident.

Dad's voice wafted up the stairs, trespassing into my room. Even on a Sunday he would have normally been gone by now. I crept to the top of the stairs and listened. He was talking with Scarlett in the kitchen. I couldn't make out what they were saying, just unintelligible chatter and an occasional laugh from Scarlett. I sat on the top step.

I liked Scarlett a lot too, but why was she palatable to him and I wasn't? What had I done to be so distasteful that he could talk with her, have a normal conversation with her, but never with me?

“Bye, Mr. Morris,” Scarlett said.

The door into the garage opened and closed. A few seconds later, his engine revved and he backed out of the driveway.

Scarlett emerged from the kitchen into the hallway then climbed the stairs. “Watch it,” I said.

She jumped. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting here.”

“Spying?”

I really couldn't imagine what they'd have to say to each other. I had no idea what my father spoke of with anyone, except a little bit with Gloria. I rubbed my tired eyes. He'd known Scarlett for five minutes and already preferred her to me. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing. The weather. How I slept. The price of tea in China.”

I clenched my jaw. The fact that he had nothing particular to say, that he engaged in idle chitchat, only made it worse.

Scarlett reached out until her hand touched my face.

I pushed it away. “I'm gonna go shower.”

I let the hot water ease my tense muscles. I shouldn't be mad at Scarlett for my dad's offenses. It wasn't her fault. But in the short time she'd been here, he'd given her more than he'd given me in eight years. Why did he hate me? Why could he love everyone except his own son?

I couldn't let myself think like that. It was this train of thought that had led to me raiding Gloria's meds and ending up facedown on the tile floor.
There's nothing wrong with you
, Jay constantly told me.
There's something wrong with your dad.

“It's not me, it's him. It's not me, it's him.” I repeated my mantra under my breath until I no longer felt like strangling someone. I turned off the water.

When I stepped out of the shower, Scarlett stood in my bathroom, arms folded, leaning back against the counter.

“Dude, come on!” I snapped. “I'm naked.” I groped for my towel and wrapped it around my waist. “I thought you finally understood the whole boundaries thing.”

“Don't worry.” She grinned. “I didn't see anything.” She didn't even have the decency to wear her dark glasses.

Note to self: Lock the bathroom door.

“Detective Parker is here to see you,” she said without leaving.

I jerked my head up. Did he come to arrest me? Maybe the other guy, Deepthroat, had gone in and lied about what had happened with the waitress too. “What does he want?”

“Dunno. He asked for you.”

Then it hit me what Scarlett had done. “What were you thinking? Opening the door to a stranger. It could've been them!” She might have been stolen right from the house. I didn't doubt they knew where I lived. I'd been relying on Dad's security measures to keep us safe long enough to get her home to England.

“I'm not a git. I checked before I opened the door.”

“How did you check? Never mind.” Not the moment for a lesson on life skills of the visually impaired. I shook a finger at her. “You do not open the door. Not alone. Ever. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“Just, let me get some clothes on, and I'll be down.” I reached for my deodorant, but Scarlett didn't exit. How could I get ready with her staring at me? “Okay, you have to leave. I know you can't see me. But I can see you, and it's freaking me out.”

“Right you are, gov'nah.” She turned and left the bathroom and then busted up laughing. How could she be so jovial when I might be on my way to death row?

I threw on a long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans and met Scarlett and the detective in the kitchen. Scarlett had the detective seated at the counter.

When I entered, she was saying, “Sorry I don't know how to make coffee or anything, but— Oh, here he is.”

Detective Parker rose and shook my hand. “Christian, nice to see you again.”

Yeah right. At least he didn't have his handcuffs at the ready.

“Is your dad here?”

“No, he already left for work.” Thank goodness. No way was I up for double team.

“He goes to work on Sunday?”

“He's a very busy man.”

Parker nodded thoughtfully. “I just came by to tell you that you've been cleared in the death of Addie Bolton.”

“The waitress?” Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad day after all. “Why? Did you catch Connor and his friend?”

“No. Actually, we went through the charge receipts from the restaurant based on the time of your visit. We tracked down a few other patrons, and they corroborated your story. With the witness's motives in question, there's not enough evidence against you.”

There was never
any
evidence against me. “Will this be on my permanent record?” I really didn't want this stupid mess dragging behind me for the rest of my life.

“No. Especially because you're a juvie. We didn't even take your mug shot, did we, slugger?” He was all smug again.

He'd told me at the jail I was only detained, but I didn't know for sure what that entailed.

“Have you had any trouble since the Lloyd Center?” he asked.

I glanced at Scarlett. “No.” I decided not to tell him about Dr. Wyden.
Scarlett met someone from her dream
didn't exactly count as trouble.

He nodded. “Well, tell your dad I'll keep the surveillance up for another twenty-four hours, just in case.”

Wait, what? “Surveillance? Are you following me?”

He seemed surprised. “No. I've had some uniforms posted outside since Friday, watching the house. In an unmarked vehicle, of course. Your father insisted.”

Scarlett gasped, and I staggered back, sitting down hard on a high-backed bar stool. I stared at Detective Parker with my mouth hanging open. “
My
dad?”

Christian vs. Reality

My father, Richard Morris, had requested a police guard to protect me? I shook my head. No way. He must've been worried about the house. Or even Scarlett. Parker probably told him everything, including the part about the kidnapping. My dad wouldn't want something like that on his hands. How would it look down at Morris and Clarke if a teenage blind girl went missing from his own home? He cared about keeping up his image.

That also explained why the dynamic duo hadn't come crashing through the front door yet. All this time I'd been thinking we were kept safe by the gate at the bottom of the street and Dad's high-tech security system. How could I be so naïve?

Scarlett rested her hand on my arm. “Thanks for coming, Detective.”

I sucked in a quick breath and tried to salvage my composure. “Yeah, thanks.” I suddenly liked him better, now that he'd taken me seriously and gotten me out of a murder charge. “Thanks for looking into the whole witness thing. I really didn't want to go to jail again.”

He gave me a nod but continued to study me through narrowed eyes. He'd probably just assumed my dad actually communicated with me like a normal father. “No problem, sport,” he finally said. He turned his attention to Scarlett. “We've also been looking into your kidnapping claim, since the two are obviously related. We don't have much to go on, other than the description of the men who assaulted Christian in the restaurant and the name ‘Connor.' Are you positive you don't have any other details you can share?”