Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [110]
“WILL!” She heard herself howl at the top of her lungs, a sound she’d never heard come out of her; it didn’t even sound human, and she was going insane, she could tell by the stunned expression on the nurses walking by and an old man carrying a stack of morning newspapers and another woman so upset her hand flew to her mouth.
Ellen screamed again but Marcelo kept her from falling, and suddenly security guards in dark blue uniforms were running beside them and Marcelo said something to them, and they all ran down one shiny hallway then another until they hit doors and freezing air and a parking lot and a red-lighted sign that read EMERGENCY, and there was a maroon car with the engine running and another security guard sitting in the driver’s seat.
Marcelo shoved her into the backseat and she landed screaming with her wet face and snotty nose against the cold leather seat and Marcelo threw himself in after her, holding her from behind as she fought and howled and choked and cried, and the car lurched finally off.
Chapter Eighty-four
When Ellen woke up, she was lying in her clothes in a bedroom she didn’t recognize, and Marcelo was sitting at the end of the bed, holding on to her hand. Her head felt fuzzy and strange, her thoughts blank. The room was very dark. The wood blinds were closed, the walls covered with black-and-white photographs, and the dresser a lacquered black, under a mirror of onyx.
Marcelo focused on her, a tiny buckle creasing his forehead. His expression looked strained, the corners of his lips turned down. He had on an open white shirt, and the edges of his body blurred in the darkness.
“You awake?” he asked softly.
“What time is it?”
Marcelo’s gaze shifted to his left, then back again, presumably to check a bedside clock. “Seven thirty at night. You’ve been asleep since this morning.”
Ellen tried to understand. “I slept the whole day?”
“You needed to.”
“Where am I? I feel funny.”
“You’re at my house, and you took a Valium.”
“I did?” Ellen didn’t remember.
“Yes, you were so . . . upset. I offered one to you, and you said yes. I drug my women only with their consent.”
“Why do you have Valium?”
“An old girlfriend. The relationship expired, but the pills didn’t.” Marcelo smiled, and Ellen sensed from under her pharmaceutical cloud that he was trying to cheer her up. She didn’t dare rewind the day’s events to remember why she was here. She knew, but she didn’t want to know. She had traded in one insulation for another.
“Why did you bring me here and not home?”
“Your house was a crime scene.”
Of course.
“Though it’s since been released. Also, there was press out front.”
“Who did we send?”
“Sal.”
Ellen lifted an eyebrow.
“Who better?”
“Make him tell it right, Marcelo. Tell it true, all of it. I’m fine with it.”
“Good.”
“Just so it’s not Sarah.” Ellen felt bitterness even through her drug haze. “She’s the one who called the Bravermans, you know, for the reward.”
“I heard from the police.” Marcelo’s smile vanished. “Which would probably explain why she quit the other day.”
“She did?”
“Walked in and quit, packed up her desk, and left. No notice, nothing.”
“Did she say she didn’t need it, because she’s rich now? She won the lottery.”
“No, she said I was the worst editor in the country and I was just”—Marcelo paused a minute, smiling—“a pretty boy.”
“She said that?”
“It’s not that funny. I am pretty.” Marcelo stroked Ellen’s cheek, and she started to feel something, which worried her. She didn’t welcome any emotions right now, even good ones.
“Do you have another pill?”
“Yes, but I don’t think you should take it yet. Your lawyer’s here.”
“Lawyer?”
“Ron. You asked me to call him, and he came over at the end of the day.”
“He’s here?” Ellen started to get up, but Marcelo gentled her back down.
“Stay put. I’ll have him come up.” He rose and left the room,