Shades of Twilight (Page 82)

"She didn’t want to feel like she was in a fortress," Webb said, remembering the comments Lucinda had made over the years.

"This will probably change her mind. Don’t bother with one of the systems that automatically call for help, because y’all are so far out of town it would be a waste of money. Put in a loud alarm that’ll wake everyone up, if you want, but remember that wires can be cut. Your best bet is to put good locks on the doors and windows, and get a dog. Everybody should have a dog."

"Lucinda’s allergic to dogs," Webb said wryly. He wasn’t about to get one now and make her miserable for the few remaining months of her life.

Beshears sighed.

"Guess that’s why you never had one. Nell, forget that idea." They turned and walked back toward the elevators.

"Miss Lucinda had another spell after y’all left."

"I know. Gloria told me."

"Stubborn old woman," Beshears commented. They reached the elevators, and this time he punched the button.

"Call me if Roanna remembers anything, ’cause otherwise we don’t have jack shit.

Roanna rested quietly the remainder of the day, though she was troubled by nausea. The doctor ordered a mild medication to remedy that, and she ate most of her lunch, a light meal of soup and fruit. Lanette was surprisingly good in a sickroom, making sure Roanna had plenty of ice water in the bedside pitcher where she could reach it, and helping her to the bathroom when she needed to go. Otherwise she sat patiently, reading a magazine she’d bought in the gift shop, or watching television with the sound turned low.

Webb was restless. He wandered in and out of the room, moodily watching Roanna’s face whenever he was there. Something about her manner bothered him more and more. She was too quiet. She had reason to be upset and alarmed, but instead she was showing very little response to anything. She avoided meeting his gaze and pleaded a headache when he tried to talk to her. The nurses checked on her regularly and said she was doing okay, her pupil responses were normal, but still he was uneasy.

He called back twice to check on Lucinda, but both times Lucinda answered the phone herself and wouldn’t let him talk to Gloria.

"I’m fine," she said crossly.

"Don’t you think the doctor would have put me in the hospital if anything serious was wrong? I’m old, I have cancer, and my heart isn’t what it used to be. What else do you think could be wrong? Frankly, I can’t think why I’d bother even taking medicine for a cold."

Both times she asked to talk to Roanna, and both times Roanna insisted that she felt well enough to talk. Webb listened to her side of the conversation and realized how guarded she sounded, as if she were trying to hide something.

Had she seen her assailant after all?

If so, why hadn’t she told Beshears? There was no reason he could think of for her to -keep something like that secret, no one she would be protecting. She was definitely hiding something, though, and he was determined to find out what. Not right now, not while she was still rocky, but as soon as she was home, he was going to sit her down in a private place for a little talk.

Lanette said she would stay overnight, and Webb finally 271

left at nine that night. He was back at six-thirty the next morning, though, ready to take Roanna home as soon as she was released. She was ready, already dressed in street clothes and looking much better than she had the day before. Twenty-four hours of enforced rest had done her a lot of good, even under the circumstances.

"Did you sleep any?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"As much as anyone does in a hospital, I suppose."

Behind her, Lanette met his eyes and shook her head.

It was after eight when the doctor came in and checked her pupil responses, then smiled and told her to go home.

"Take it easy for about a week," he said, "then see your family doctor for a checkup."

Webb drove them home then, easing over every bump and railroad track in an effort not to jar her head. Everyone at home at the time came out to meet her, and his plan to have a private talk with her was soon demolished. He didn’t have a chance to be alone with her all day long. She was promptly put to bed, though she complained a bit irritably that she would rather be in her chair, but nothing would satisfy Lucinda except bed rest. Lucinda and Gloria fussed over her, Bessie was in and out at least ten times asking if she was comfortable, and Tansy left her kitchen domain to personally bring up the meal trays she had prepared with Roanna’s favorites. Even Corliss stirred herself to visit and uncomfortably ask if she was all right.

Webb kept watch, knowing he’d get his chance.

It didn’t come until late that night, when everyone else had gone to bed. He waited in the darkness, watching the veranda, and as he had expected, it wasn’t long before a light came on in the next room.

He knew her veranda doors were locked, because he’d locked them himself before leaving her room the last time. He went out into the hallway, where the lights had been left burning at night since Roanna had been hurt, and quietly entered her room.

She had gotten out of bed and was once again ensconced

in that huge, soft-looking chair, though she wasn’t reading. He supposed her head still hurt too much for her to do any reading. Instead she’d turned on her television, with the sound so low he could barely hear it.

She looked around with a guilty expression when the door opened. "Caught you," he said softly, shutting the door behind him.

Immediately he caught a hint of uneasiness in her face, before she smoothed her expression to blankness.

"I’m tired of being in bed," she explained.

"I’ve rested so much I’m not in the least bit sleepy."

"I understand," he said. She’d been in bed for two days, no wonder she was sick of it.