“An accident?” She stepped back hurriedly. “Yes, of course. Come in. Maybe I should take you to the emergency room.”
“Just left the E.R. I’m okay.”
“You were at the hospital? Thomas, for heaven’s sake, what happened?”
“Long story. But don’t worry. Nothing’s broken.”
He came through the doorway, moving stiffly, and stopped in the hall. She finally got a good look at him in the overhead light. There was a bad scrape high on his left cheek, his knuckles were raw and his hair was badly mussed. His jacket, trousers and shirt were stained with mud and blood; his shirttails hung loose.
She closed the door very carefully, locked it and turned around.
“Thomas, what happened to you?”
“Ran into a jogger.” He caught sight of himself in the hall mirror and winced. “Damn. Coming here was a mistake. Didn’t realize I looked this bad. I should have had Ed drop me at my place.”
“Tell me about this accident.”
“On the footbridge.”
“You said you went to the emergency room but you certainly don’t look like you’ve seen a doctor.”
“They were busy with the other guy. I didn’t let them clean me up. Figured I could do that here.”
“You’re not making any sense, Thomas.”
“Like I said, it’s a long story.”
“You can tell it to me while we get you patched up.”
He did not argue.
She stepped around him, leading the way back through the living room and down the short hall.
She sat him down on the edge of the white tub and then she turned on the water in the sink. She saw him watching her in the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet. His eyes were colder than the waters of the cove.
“Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
She opened the cabinet and took down some alcohol, cotton swabs and a tube of antibiotic ointment.
“You always travel with a fully equipped medicine cabinet?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do. I keep the basics handy, at any rate. My grandmother taught me that. She believes in being prepared. Take off your jacket and shirt.” She faced him. “I need to see the full extent of the damage.”
“It’s not that bad.” He started to shrug out of his jacket, halted briefly to draw a slow breath and then peeled it off with a stony, stoic expression.
“You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?” She took the jacket from him and hung it on the hook behind the door. Something clanked against the wood panel, distracting her. “What is that?”
“The wrench I brought with me to fix your leaky faucet.” Methodically, he undid the buttons of his shirt.
When he got it off she was relieved to see that things did not look too bad. “Can you take a deep breath?”
He tried it cautiously, feeling his ribs with his fingers. “Yeah. No sharp pain. Relax, Leonora, I’m okay. Just a little bruised.”
She moistened a ball of cotton with alcohol and went to work on his scraped cheek.
“All right,” she said, “let’s have it. What exactly happened out there?”
“Some kid high on dope tried to brain me with a golf club and throw me into the cove. He missed. That’s the end of the story, as far as Ed Stovall is concerned.”
For an instant she didn’t think she had heard him correctly. She lifted the cotton ball away from his cheek.
“What?” She had a hard time getting the word out. Her tongue felt thick. “The kid tried to kill you?”
“They think he was on that S and M stuff we’ve been hearing about. He’s still seeing monsters in the E.R. Apparently he thought I was one.”
The floor of the bathroom fell away beneath her feet, leaving her hanging, weightless, in midair in some other universe. The world on the other side of the mirror, she thought.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she whispered.
“I’m sure as hell not in what you might call a jocular mood.”
She took a grip on her plummeting stomach and moved back to get a better look at him. “He used a golf club?”
“Ed said the kid’s on the Eubanks team. Ouch.”
“Sorry.” She applied the cotton ball a little less forcefully. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking about that bag of golf clubs we saw in Alex Rhodes’s back room.”
“I knew it. Did you mention the clubs to Ed Stovall?”
“No point. He’s satisfied with his version of events and it’s not like I’ve got any evidence to contradict him. My only hope is that when the kid comes off his drug trip he’ll be able to tell Ed where he got the crap that made him see monsters. But I’m not holding my breath. The E.R. folks said he might not remember anything about the experience. They said that judging from the few cases they’ve handled, the drug is very unpredictable and that goes double when it’s mixed with alcohol.”
“Oh, my God, Thomas. Do you think Alex got the boy high and deliberately sent him out to murder you?”
“Maybe not. Maybe he just wanted to send a warning.” Thomas gingerly touched his right shoulder with his left hand. “Make it clear that it would be best if I stayed out of his private business.”
She turned away to drop the bloody cotton ball in the trash. “How could he possibly know?”
“About our interest in him? Julie Bromley. Wouldn’t be surprised if he found out about our little chat with her this morning. Probably made him nervous.”
She stared at him in the mirror, unable to look away. “You have to talk to Ed Stovall.”
“I wish like hell it was that easy. Trust me, at this point it would be a complete waste of time.”
“Maybe if I went with you to talk to him?”
“No offense, but that won’t help.” Thomas’s mouth twisted grimly. “He’ll assume you’re backing me up because you’re sleeping with me.”
She cleared her throat. “I see. He’ll think that I’m blinded by passion, is that it?”
Thomas started to get to his feet. “Ed will look for any excuse to dismiss my story, because he’ll figure I’m still working on a conspiracy theory with Deke.”
“Sit still.” She picked up the tube of antibiotic ointment. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”
When she had done what she could for his bruises, she steered him into the kitchen. Some of the feral quality had finally faded from his eyes but he still looked much too dangerous.