The Devil You Know

CHAPTER 15

Finding Dr. Williams turned out not to be as easy as I’d hoped. His first name was Ned, but I didn’t find anyone in the phone book under that name. I then looked under Edward, and found a depressingly large number of names. I went through the list and called each one. No luck, though there were a few who hadn’t answered the phone. I realized my methods were going to take forever—and we didn’t have forever. Reluctantly, I called Adam, who’d gone back to his house with Dom. I was under strict orders to call before I left my apartment, and much though I hated being given orders, I couldn’t help agreeing with these.

Adam didn’t pick up until after his answering machine had started its spiel. I was just starting to get worried when his real live voice came over the line and the machine cut off.

“You ready to go?” Adam asked, never one to waste time with greetings.

Even in four words, I could hear that he was out of breath. I didn’t think it was from running to get the phone. When he’d left my apartment, he’d made up some lame story about how he had some paperwork to do at home, but the sly, secretive look he’d shared with Dom told me more than I’d wanted to know about what he was really up to. So to speak.

A shiver passed down my spine as I wondered whether Adam was breathless from pleasuring his lover or from hurting him. Not that I actually wanted to know. That uncomfortable train of thought made me slow to respond.

“Anything wrong?” Adam asked.

I snorted softly. “Is anything right?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Nothing’s wrong. Except that with my brilliant investigation techniques, it’s going to take me three weeks to locate Dr. Williams. I don’t suppose you’d be able to help me with that, would you?”

His breathing steadied, and I could almost see the ironic lift of his brow. “You’re willing to risk letting me know this paragon of virtue’s address?”

“It’s not like you couldn’t find it anyway,” I retorted. “Besides, you’ve already agreed that we’re going to try it my way first. Right?”

“Sure. I’ve got some, uh, loose ends to take care of first, but I’ll get back to you this afternoon at the latest.”

I suspected it was a tight end he planned to take care of, but I tried not to think about it. “Thanks,” was all I said before I let him get back to his regularly scheduled activities.

I didn’t want to be alone with Brian, so I asked him to keep watch while I had a private word with my brother. It was something I needed to do anyway, and if it would save me some awkwardness to boot, I was all for it.

I think both the boys recognized what I was doing, but they didn’t call me on it. I dragged Andy into the spare bedroom, which he had already branded with his testosterone-fueled decorating tastes. Meaning un-made bed, chair buried under discarded clothing, and dirty socks on the floor.

I leaned against a wall—I wasn’t touching his dirty clothes to make room for myself on the chair—and crossed my arms over my chest. “You do know you’ll be fumigating this room before you move out, right?”

He smiled at me, then grabbed the clothes off the chair and dumped them on the floor. “Have a seat.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I think I’ll stand, thanks very much.” I’m not what you’d call a girly-girl, but I’ve always been tidy.

Andy shrugged, then sat on the edge of his bed. “So, what did you want to talk to me about? Or was that just an excuse to run away from Brian?”

I grimaced. “A little of both, actually.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve been very good so far about not pushing you to tell me your secrets.”

“Uh-oh.”

“But there are some things I have to know.”

I could almost see his mental doors slamming shut. Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten up, and he watched me with the wary caution of a tabby cat facing down a ferocious pit bull.

“Oh, relax!” I snapped. I hated having my own brother look at me that way, like I was the enemy. “I don’t need you to tell me everything you know. But I’m going to go question my doctor this afternoon, and if Adam doesn’t like the answers I get, he’ll take matters into his own hands. You haven’t seen Adam at work before. I have. He is not a nice guy.” Understatement of the century. “You are a nice guy.” At least, he was back when I knew him ten years ago. “And I’m really hoping you won’t let some poor old man get tortured just because you don’t want to talk about what you know.”

Andy didn’t look at me, instead staring at the carpet. “I don’t know anything about what happened to you at The Healing Circle.”

“Then why the fuck won’t you look me in the eye when you say that?”

He winced, like my harsh tone had hurt his feelings. Maybe it had, but under the circumstances, I felt I had a right to be angry with him. He kept his gaze pinned firmly on the rug.

“I’m sure Adam is a real badass,” he said. “But Raphael is, too. And Raphael has been inside my head for ten years.” He finally found the courage to look up, and the terror I saw in his eyes banished my anger. Andy had been through a kind of hell I couldn’t even imagine. What a judgmental bitch I was for getting angry at him!

He visibly swallowed hard, then sucked in a deep breath. He looked away once more. “Imagine what a skilled torturer who knows every one of your hidden fears and nightmares can do. Then tell me you’d be willing to risk pissing him off.”

“What does Raphael have to do with The Healing Circle?” I asked.

He gave a snort of bitter laughter. “You don’t quit, do you?”

I finally forced myself to sit down. “I’m sorry, Andy. I get that you’re scared of Raphael, and I know you have every reason to be. But despite all that, he’s supposed to be one of the good guys. Sort of.”

Andy shook his head. “Take my word for it, little sister. He’s not one of the good guys.”

“But he saved my life. And Lugh’s life.”

Andy met my gaze again, and I could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he carefully considered what to say to me. His words came slowly, each one chosen with meticulous care. “He’s…loyal to Lugh. He doesn’t like Lugh, but he loves him, if that makes sense. He’ll protect his brother at any cost. But that’s the extent of his commitment to the cause.”

I thought about that for a long moment and decided I knew what Andy was trying so hard not to say. “Meaning that whatever the hell’s going on, he’s in it up to his ears?”

Andy wouldn’t answer, not even with a nod or shake of his head. His body language screamed “leave me alone,” and though I wished I could get him to open up and trust me, I knew it wasn’t happening.

With an aching lump in my throat, I gave him a hug, which he returned only halfheartedly. Not knowing what else I could say or do, I slipped out of the room.

My confidence in Adam’s ability to locate Dr. Williams was well justified. By mid-afternoon, I had an address and phone number, delivered to me personally by Adam. With Dominic as a potential victim for Der Jäger, Adam wasn’t about to let him out of his sight.

I was embarrassingly glad to get out of the apartment and away from the guys. All of them. It was a major testosterone overload in there, even though two of the guys were gay. Or at least bi. I was pretty sure Adam liked women just fine, based on some of the wolfish looks he’d given me, but I had no idea about Dominic. He wasn’t your stereotypically campy gay man, but then he was with Adam, and he didn’t seem to care who knew it.

I shook my head at myself as I walked the eight blocks between my apartment and Dr. Williams’s condo. Why was I even speculating on their sexual orientation? Yes, they were both good-looking, majorly sexy men. However, they were obviously devoted to one another, so even if I’d been in the market for a new man in my life, neither of them was a candidate.

I dismissed them from my mind as I entered the lobby of the exclusive condo building on Rittenhouse Square. I had called Dr. Williams in advance, so the guy at the security desk was expecting me. I signed in while he called Dr. Williams to let him know his guest had arrived. There was a mirror behind the desk, and I caught a glimpse of the doorman giving my ass the once-over. He was a wizened little old man, but he still seemed to appreciate the view, and I couldn’t help a little smile. I was wearing low-rise jeans and a clingy top that was almost long enough to tuck in. If he’d gotten a look at me in my leather pants, he’d probably have swallowed his dentures.

Dr. Williams had obviously retired wealthy, for his condo took up the entire top floor of the building. I needed a special key-card just to make the elevator go up that high.

He met me in the doorway, looking almost exactly as I remembered him from the last time I’d seen him, which had to be at least ten years ago. His hair was a gorgeous, snowy white, and the big, droopy mustache that had always fascinated me as a kid still adorned his upper lip.

His smile produced a dazzling collection of crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes, and he held out a hand for me to shake. “How nice it is to see you again,” he said as I obediently shook his hand. His grip was firm and sure. He looked me up and down, then nodded approvingly. “You’ve grown up a bit since I last saw you.”

“And you look exactly the same,” I said, because it seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

Dr. Williams patted my hand, then let go and led me into his condo. “All an illusion, I’m afraid. You just remember me as an ancient geezer, and I look the part.”

If his eyes hadn’t been sparkling with humor, I might have been embarrassed, because I suspected he was right. I followed him out into a small but cozy sunroom with a breathtaking view of the square. The room teemed with greenery, plants hanging from hooks in the glass ceiling, sitting on the floor, and adorning the many shelves set into the single brick wall. I sat in the wicker chair Dr. Williams pulled out for me, and he sat in its twin, across a glass-topped wicker coffee table.

Pride glowed in his eyes as I took in the abundance of healthy plant life that gave this room an almost junglelike feel. “I’m impressed,” I told him. “If I so much as touch a plant, it generally dies within a couple of days.”

He laughed. “Then may I request that you don’t touch mine?”

I laughed with him, though in truth it was hard to move in that room without brushing a leaf or tendril. Luckily, my assessment of my effect on plants was a slight exaggeration—but only slight.

“Would you like some tea?” Dr. Williams asked, and I belatedly noticed that the coffee table was set with a delicate china tea set, complete with a plate of lemon wedges.

I’m a coffee person myself, but he seemed eager for me to accept, so I did. He poured me an aromatic cup, then poured one for himself, flavoring it only with a wedge of lemon. I creamed and sugared mine half to death, but he didn’t seem insulted by my abuse of his offering.

The china was clearly feminine, and he wore a wedding band on his left hand. However, he made no mention of his wife, and I was left with the impression that he was probably a widower. And, based on his eagerness to make this interview into a social occasion, a lonely one at that.

My impressions could have been dead wrong, but I didn’t think so. Despite the urgency of my mission, I sipped at my tea and made small talk for a good fifteen minutes, exclaiming some more over his plants and over the beauty of the view.

I was running out of friendly chatter when he finally smiled at me and put his teacup down.

“It’s very kind of you to spend time entertaining an old man,” he said, “but I’m sure you didn’t come here solely for the pleasure of my company.”

I squirmed a bit, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that I’d thrown any suspicion onto his shoulders. No way was this sweet little old guy part of some evil conspiracy to…Well, I didn’t actually know what the goal of the evil conspiracy was, if it even existed.

Dr. Williams leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach and regarding me with polite curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

I forced a smile and shook my head. “No. I just…have some questions for you.”

He thought about that one for a moment, and I thought I saw a hint of unease flicker in his eyes. “Ah.” He cast an almost longing look at the teapot, then seemed to decide against another cup. “What would you like to ask me about?”

I had the sinking feeling he already knew, but I tried my best to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I wanted to ask you about my bout with encephalitis.”

The corners of his eyes tightened ever so slightly, and he nodded. “What would you like to know?”

Everything. Or perhaps nothing. I swallowed hard. “I don’t remember anything about my stay at the hospital. Literally. Is that…normal?”

“Based on the medications you would have been on at the time, I’d say that’s perfectly normal.”

On the one hand, he was clearly telling me my memory loss was expected. On the other hand, he’d used an awful lot of words to say what amounted to “yes,” and that’s the way people talk when they’re lying.

“What medications were those, exactly?” I wished I’d thought to bring a pad of paper with me so I could write down his answers.

He met my eyes steadily. “I don’t know.”

I blinked at the unexpected answer, then frowned. “What do you mean?”

“As your primary care physician, I was the one who admitted you into the hospital. However, I wasn’t the one who treated you.”

My stomach felt suddenly queasy, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. “Why wouldn’t you have treated me?” I asked. One of the things that made The Healing Circle different from other hospitals was its emphasis on personal, consistent patient care, which meant keeping patients with the same physician as much as possible. They might have brought in a specialist or three to work with Dr. Williams, but he still should have been the director for my treatment.

He twisted his wedding ring around his finger absently, though aside from that one nervous gesture, he seemed mostly at ease. “On the night you were admitted, I was mugged on my way home from work.”

My stomach gave another unhappy lurch.

“I was badly beaten,” Dr. Williams continued. “I was in the hospital myself for the duration of your stay.” He patted his knee. “I’ve got enough metal in this leg to set off the metal detectors at the airport.”

If our doctor determines that she is, in fact, intractable, then other, more desperate measures may be needed.

I remembered that damning line from Bradley Cooper’s letter verbatim.

“So who was the doctor who treated me while you were in the hospital?” I asked, but a strange, uneasy premonition had settled over me.

“He’s one of The Healing Circle’s top physicians,” Dr. Williams said. “His name is Dr. Frederick Neely.”