In a Heartbeat - Elizabeth Adler [40]
“Sorry, ma’am,” Brotski said again, “but Mr. Vincent already has a visitor. He particularly asked that they not be disturbed.”
A frown creased Mel’s brow, followed by a foreboding shiver. “You mean you let somebody go in there—alone with him?” Her voice was squeaky with fear. It might be him—the killer. Somebody who wanted to harm him.
“It’s Mr. Vincent’s business partner, ma’am,” Brotski said patiently, but his hand was still over hers on the doorknob and she knew he wasn’t about to take it away until she stepped back. “Mr. Estevez is on Detective Camelia’s list of permitted visitors.”
Mel flung away impatiently. “Well, I sure hope Mr. Estevez had a photo ID,” she said, still uneasy.
“Yes, ma’am, he did.” Brotski was so straight-faced and earnest, Mel almost wanted to laugh, except this was serious.
She eyed the door longingly. “Why does he need to be alone with Ed? It’s not as though they could have a private conversation.”
“That’s Mr. Estevez’s business, ma’am.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, call me Mel,” she said with a deep sigh that seemed to come all the way up from her boots. “Mind if I borrow your chair for a minute or two?” Despite the caffeine, exhaustion was claiming her and she could have fallen asleep in a second, even on the hard chair, if it were not that a Mr. Estevez was alone with Ed. And she was outside, the guardian at the gate, praying he wasn’t the killer. Then she remembered that Camelia had said Estevez was persona grata, so he must be okay.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she thought about Detective Marco Camelia. He was like a character in a movie, the dark-haired, smooth, tough detective, complete with the heart of gold. But he was also a tender man, a man who loved his wife and adored his kids. A man who was attracted to her.
The door opened and a tall, silver-haired, distinguished-looking man stepped out into the hallway. She was on her feet in seconds and he turned, surprised. Their eyes met for a long moment, then he said, “Miss Merrydew, of course,” and held out his hand.
“Mr. Estevez,” she said, taking it. His hand was cold, as though he had been in the presence of death, and again that foreboding shiver trembled up her spine. She had to stop herself from running into that dim, monitored room with its flickering, humming machines, just to check that this man hadn’t killed him. “How is he?”
“He is just the same. Unresponsive. I talked to him, about business, about the restaurant he likes, about people we know”—he shook his head—“but nothing.” His glance was sharp. “Perhaps you will be able to do better, Miss Merrydew.”
“I hope so.”
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, they sized each other up. Estevez was wondering what Ed saw in her. And Mel knew he was wondering exactly that.
“Might I ask where you are staying, Miss Merrydew?” he said at last.
“Staying?” Mel looked blankly at him. “Oh. Right here.”
His brows rose. “You mean the hospital gave you a room?”
“No. I mean I stay right here. With Ed.”
That accounted for the circles under her eyes, as purple as van Gogh’s irises, Estevez thought, astonished. He found himself unexpectedly touched. “Then you have had no sleep. It’s not good for you, Miss Merrydew. You need rest. I can arrange a hotel room. The hospital can call you if you are needed.”
She shook her head. “I know Ed’s not going to die as long as I am here with him,” she said stubbornly. “I won’t let him,” she added fiercely.
Estevez sighed. He understood that feeling— that as long as you were there, giving Ed your life force, surely he could not die. “I only wish that were true,” he said quietly. “Unfortunately, my dear, we are all, in the end, in the hands of our medical scientists. The doctors, the nurses, the machines, the drugs—they are the ones keeping him alive.”
“His body, you mean. But I am here for his soul.”
Mel felt her eyes brimming. Great waves of exhaustion washed over her, her legs buckled, and she slumped into the chair again. Officer Brotski took one glance and hurried to fetch her some water.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Merrydew.