Second Time Around (26 page)

A bra strap dangled from the bag and she shoved it back inside as she took the stairs two at a time. Her headlong flight came to a halt when she saw a shadowed figure moving inside the stable. Tossing her bag in the truck, she stopped in the door, squinting in the light.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb anyone.” Cody’s voice came from right next to her and she jumped.

“What are you doing here?”

“Cleaning tack. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d get started on it.”

“You haven’t seen Quinn have you?”

The young man smiled at her. “He was pretty hard to miss, the way they tore out of here. Slung gravel for a hundred feet.”

“How long ago did they leave?”

He tilted his hat back, thinking. “Probably about thirty minutes after you left. Is something wrong?”

“Listen, I have to catch a plane to Chicago. Can you call Sherry for me? Tell her she’s in charge of the ranch until I get back.”

“Sure thing. How long are you going to be gone?”

Lanie edged toward the truck, impatient to get going. Quinn already had a two-hour head start on her. “I don’t know for sure. I’ll call when I find out.”

Without another word, she jumped in the truck and sped out of the drive, praying she’d be able to get a flight tonight.

* * * * *

The CICU waiting room was full, but Quinn spotted Franklin immediately. The lawyer was pacing from one end of the room to the other, his brown hair in disarray.

Even as they approached him, he ran a hand through it, doing more damage to the normally impeccable style. Exhaustion and worry lined his face.

“Quinn! Thank God. They only let you go back to see the patients every few hours, and only for fifteen minutes. But I arranged for them to let you see him as soon as you got here.”

“How is he?” Gently, he shifted Zack to Duncan’s arms. His son hadn’t wakened even when he’d carried him through the hospital.

15“Not good. Come on. I’ll show you where to go in.”

A nurse looked up from her station outside the double wooden doors. “Mr.

McAllister?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Only one person is allowed in at a time. Mr. Delaney will have to wait here. Your father is in bed three.”

A man in a white jacket sat beside Edward’s bed checking monitors and typing into a computer, but Quinn could only gaze helplessly at his father.

Edward seemed to have shrunk to less than half his normal size, and even through the green of the oxygen mask Quinn could see how blue his lips were. He was so still that if it hadn’t been for the erratic beep of the heart monitor Quinn would have thought he’d gotten there too late.

Choking on fear and pain, Quinn got his shaking limbs under control and moved to the side of the bed. “Dad?” Tenderly, he brushed back a stay wisp of white hair from Edward’s forehead, noting how dry the skin was.

“Dad, I’m here.”

Other than the monitors, the only sound in the cubicle was Edward’s raspy breathing. It came in short bursts followed by a long pause that terrified Quinn.

“Dad?” He picked up the gnarled hand lying so still on the sheet and clasped it in both of his.

“Don’t do this to me, Dad,” he whispered, his eyes blurring with moisture. “Don’t leave me. I need you. Oh, God.” He lowered his head as tears flowed unheeded down his cheeks.

When the fingers he held curled weakly around his, Quinn’s head shot up. “Dad, can you hear me? I came as soon as I could.”

Edward’s eyes opened slowly, with a great deal of effort. For a second he stared at Quinn as though trying to identify him.

“Got…you to…come back, didn’t…I?” Each word was a struggle, more of a pant than real speech.

“Don’t try to talk, Dad. I’m here now.” He leaned over the bed and cradled his father’s face.

“Waited…for you. Had to…tell you…”

Quinn’s body shook with the force of the sobs he was holding back. “What? You had to tell me what, Dad?”

“Letter…on my…desk…for you.” The last words were spoken on a sigh of air, and his body went limp. The line on the monitor went flat and alarms screamed. Suddenly the room was full of people, pushing Quinn outside as he fought frantically to stay with his father.

“Dad! No!”

15
* * * * *

Lanie gazed up at the building as the cab pulled away from the curb. From this angle, she couldn’t see the penthouse. Someone brushed by her, and she clutched her bag tighter. She didn’t remember the streets being this crowded last time she was here, but then she hadn’t been paying much attention.

Bright light spilled through the glass doors, and she took a deep breath before pushing them open.

“May I help you?” The rotund doorman all but lifted his nose in the air as he surveyed her dirty jeans and wrinkled T-shirt.

“Yes, you can. I’m Mrs. McAllister and I need the key to my husband’s penthouse.”

One of his eyebrows vanished into his hairline. “I’m sorry, but we don’t give clients keys to strangers without their permission. There’s a phone on the desk if you’d like to call him first.”

Now what? She didn’t know the number to the penthouse and if she told this man that, he’d toss her out on the spot. Her chin squared as she rummaged through her purse and came up with her driver’s license. “Here. You can check my identity yourself.”

He glanced at the card, then handed it back. “Just because you have the same last name doesn’t mean Mr. McAllister would want you to have his key.”

Propping her hands on her hips, Lanie glared at him. “Listen, Buster. I can rope, throw, hog-tie and brand a five-hundred-pound cow in twenty seconds. You wouldn’t even make me breathe hard. Now, I’ve had a very bad day, and if you’re smart, you’ll give me that damn key. Because if you don’t, when I get through with you, my husband will take over and finish the job.”

“You keep saying he’s your husband, but I’ve known Mr. McAllister since he moved in.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “He’s not married.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. He’s married to me and has been for five years.

We have a four-year-old son.”

The man’s gaze swept over her again, and he hesitated. “Weren’t you here a month or so ago?”

“That’s right. I was wearing a red dress and my hair was done up.”

He hesitated a moment longer. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let you in. If Mr.

McAllister doesn’t want you there, he can handle it himself.”

“Exactly.” With a great deal of satisfaction, she followed him to the elevator and watched him insert a key into a slot.

“That will take you straight up, Mrs. McAllister.”

“Thank you.” Relief flowed through her until the doors opened again on the penthouse. The apartment was cold and dark, with no sign anyone had been there in weeks. The same metallic smell she’d noticed on her first visit was more pronounced and she wrinkled her nose. The place could definitely use a good airing out.

15And a cleaning, she decided as her fumbling fingers found the light switch. A light coating of dust covered the glass-topped tables.

Her shoulders slumped with despair as she moved farther into the room. They should have been here, and she had no idea where to look now that they weren’t.

Feeling like an intruder, she checked each room in the huge apartment. Signs that Quinn had once lived there were everywhere, from the cluttered office to the spacious master bedroom with an adjoining bath.

Tired, hungry, dirty and scared out of her mind, Lanie dropped her bag on the king-sized bed in Quinn’s room and headed back to his office. There had been a Rolodex on the desk. Maybe she could find the phone number of someone who would know why her husband and son had vanished.

Thirty minutes later, she slammed the phone back into the cradle, frustration fighting her anxiety. She’d tried Edward’s number as well as the one listed for Franklin Delaney. There had been no answer at either place. A call to the company had only garnered a recorded voice telling her the office hours.

She was out of options. All she could do now was wait, and pray they would show up here before the night was over.

15Chapter Twenty-Two

Lanie pushed her wet hair back and turned off the tap, her gaze sweeping the shower. There was no stall door, simply a wide opening at one end of the clear glass blocks separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom.

It was strange. She knew Quinn had been through numerous surgeries, and knew there had been times when he doubted he’d ever walk again, but the reality of what he’d gone through hadn’t sunk in until she’d stepped into that shower.

Not only was it large enough for a wheelchair to maneuver in, there were odd looking brackets on the walls. They could only have been for handicapped bars. There were also two showerheads, the one she’d just used, and another above a ceramic tile bench.

Her heart twisted as she imagined Quinn, stubborn independent Quinn, unable to shower without assistance. He must have hated it. If only she’d been there for him when he needed her none of this would be happening now.

She squeezed the excess water from her hair and picked up a towel. There had to be a good reason he’d left again and taken Zack. Especially after his promise last night.

And as soon as she got dressed, she was going to call every number in his file even if it meant waking up half of Chicago. She
would
find him, and when she did, he was going to get a piece of her mind for scaring her like this.

Draping the damp towel over the rack to dry, she rapidly braided her hair. She was tying the end off when she heard the quiet hum of the elevator doors opening.

Frantically, she looked around the room. Her clothes were on Quinn’s bed, but there was a dark blue terrycloth robe on a hook behind the door. She grabbed it and shoved her arms through the sleeves, listening to the voices from the front of the apartment.

One was Quinn’s, but the person doing most of the talking was a stranger to her.

“I sent Charles to restock your refrigerator this morning. He must have left the lights on. I didn’t think to call Delores. I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. Looks like the place could use a cleaning.”

“There’s no rush.”

Lanie paused in the act of belting the robe. That last voice had been Quinn, but he sounded so tired, so defeated. She gave the belt one final yank and made her way through the bedroom. Before she reached the hall, Zack spoke. Her son sounded as though he were nearly asleep.

“Is this your home, Dad?”

15“No, champ. The ranch is home. This is just where I stay when I come to Chicago.

What do you say we try to give your mom a call again? Maybe she’ll be home by now and you can talk to her.”

Lanie gripped the door frame, her eyes closing in sheer relief. She’d been right to trust him after all. Smiling, she started down the hall. “She’s not home. She’s right here.”

“Mom!”

Zack ran to meet her and she swooped him up into her arms.

“Guess what? I got to ride on an airplane and a lady gave me a set of wings and sodas and there was this tunnel with weird lights and music playing and a car with two back seats.” He stopped to yawn.

“That sounds like a lot of excitement for one little boy.” Her gaze met Quinn’s over Zack’s head and her smile faded. He was looking at her blankly, as if he’d never seen her before. But it was his face that made fear curl in her stomach. His skin was pale and lines of grief were etched around his mouth.

Slowly, she lowered Zack and took a step into the living room. Duncan brushed by the other two men and picked Zack up, his eyes meeting hers. “I’ll show him his room and get him in bed.”

Absently, she nodded.

“Lanie?” Quinn’s voice was low, filled with doubt. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” She stopped in front of him and lifted her hand to his cheek.

“What’s wrong, Quinn?”

“Didn’t you find my note?”

“Yes, but it didn’t tell me much. Only that you’d gone to Chicago and you were taking Zack with you.”

“I see.” He swayed on his feet then caught himself. “You thought I’d left again. I tried to call you at Harper’s but there was no answer, and I couldn’t leave Zack by himself.”

Abruptly, she was in Quinn’s arms, his face buried in her neck as his body trembled uncontrollably. Alarmed, she glanced at the man standing to Quinn’s right as she held her husband protectively. The stranger looked helpless and worried.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I’m Franklin Delaney, Mrs. McAllister.” He partially extended his hand, then drew it back and ran it over his mussed hair. “Edward—” His chest lifted as he took a deep breath. “Edward had a massive heart attack. He died about an hour ago.”

Shock ripped through her and her arms tightened convulsively around Quinn. “Oh, God. I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”

Franklin shifted from foot to foot then gestured down the hall. “I should make some calls. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

16As soon as the lawyer was gone, Quinn released her and moved to the wide bank of windows looking down on the city. “Dad rented this place for me while I was still in the hospital the first time.” His voice was low. “I hated it. Stupid, huh? He knew I was in no shape to do it myself, but I never even thanked him.”

Lanie followed him and ran her hand over his back. “He didn’t expect thanks, Quinn. Edward wasn’t that type of person.”

“That’s no excuse.” He lifted a hand to his forehead and rubbed. “This is my fault, Lanie. I knew what the company meant to him. That’s why I took it away. I wanted to get even for all the things he’d done, to hurt him the way he’d hurt us. I wanted it so badly I fooled myself into believing I was doing it for Zack. But I wasn’t. It was revenge, pure and simple, and now my father is dead and I’m no better than he was.”

“No.” She gripped his arms and turned him to face her. “No, Quinn. You’re nothing like Edward. You’re good, and decent, and loving, but you’re only human. You were reacting to the hurt he’d caused you.”

He was staring down at her as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured. “I tried to call from the airport, and again from the plane. There was never an answer.”