Chapter 5 #2
“Can I trust you with confidential information?”
“I’m a healer, Maya. Confidentiality is an integral part of my practice.”
I lowered my voice. “When Zach revived Darlene, she said a man’s shadow killed her.”
“Maybe she only saw his shadow?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but now I believe it was an actual shadow.”
Dr. Adam’s gaze shifted to the elf, not on the shelf, but in the bed. “And you thought the shadow might belong to Ronald, and that’s why he’s wasting away?”
“It was worth checking, although now I’m wondering whether the shadow attacked Ronald too.”
“How would a shadow drain someone of their life essence?”
I looked at the elf. “Is that what’s happening to Ronald?”
“It’s the most likely option.”
“Do you think someone on the island is doing this to him?”
Ronald stirred and opened his eyes. “Dr. Adam?” His voice sounded raw and dry.
“I’m here, Ronald. How are you feeling?”
“Thirsty.” His gaze slid to me. “Do I know you?”
“Maya August. I work in security.”
Ronald’s eyebrows drew together. “Did someone break in while I was asleep? My cane is right here. Makes a good defensive weapon.”
I glanced at the cane tucked against the wall. “No, nothing like that. The doctor and I were discussing an unrelated case.”
Dr. Adam moved closer to the bed. “Can you stay awake for me, Ronald?”
“Yes. I’d like to draw another picture.” The elf struggled to sit in an upright position.
“Let’s get more fluids in you first. I have bone broth ready. I just need to warm it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I followed the druid to the kitchen, where he pressed the microwave buttons. “The guy is practically comatose, but he wants to draw?”
“It’s one of his hobbies. I say let him do whatever keeps him grounded and alert.”
“You don’t think it’s strange?”
“I think his condition is strange, which is why I invited you.”
“And here I thought it was my charming company.”
“That doesn’t hurt.” His mouth split into a grin, reminding me that his bedside manner wasn’t the only reason the druid was so popular on the island. We locked eyes, the sheen of desire sparkling in his, and the instinct to flee kicked me squarely in the crotch.
I tore my gaze away. “I’m going to ask Ronald a few questions.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
I hurried to Ronald’s bedroom, feeling the heat spread across my face. I was glad Zachariah wasn’t here to witness this moment and perform an I-told-you-so dance.
I slipped inside Ronald’s bedroom and refocused my thoughts. If Dr. Adam suspected an otherworldly influence at work, then so did I. He may have misguided taste in women, but his healing instincts were usually spot-on.
The elf was still seated with his back against the headboard, propped up by two pillows. He was staring longingly at a sheet of paper on his lap.
“Is that one of your drawings?” I asked.
He nodded without looking at me.
I noticed the stack of paper on the bedside table. “Are these all yours?” I flicked through them. Each one seemed to depict the same woman, although “woman” was a loose description. I’d seen pictures drawn by ten-year-olds that demonstrated more artistry.
“She’s my inspiration.”
“I can see that,” I said, not wanting to insult a dying man’s art. “Have you always liked to draw?”
“No. I preferred physical activity.” Ronald’s dry cough morphed into a choking sound.
“Ronald was on every athletic team in the Neighborhood until he became ill,” Dr. Adam said, entering the room with a mug of broth. “I played in a volleyball game with him only two weeks ago. He was perfectly fit.”
He wasn’t kidding about quick and drastic. It was hard to imagine that the elf in front of me was spiking volleyballs only two weeks ago.
“Has this woman been in your condo?” I asked. Maybe it was such a poor rendition because he’d only seen a shadow.
Ronald slurped the broth. “No. I made her up.”
I shot a quizzical look at Dr. Adam. “When’s the last time you were in a relationship, Ronald?”
He stared into his mug. “Last year. Aimee.”
“What happened with Aimee?” I asked. “Why did you break up?”
“She died,” Dr. Adam answered for him.
Oh. “Are these sketches of Aimee?” I asked.
“No. Aimee was an elf like me.” Ronald made a guttural sound as he handed the empty mug to Dr. Adam. “I’m tired.” A yawn punctuated his statement.
“We’ll leave you alone, then,” Dr. Adam said. “I’ll come back to check on you later. Pleasant dreams.”
“Always,” Ronald said with a faint smile, and slid down to rest his head on the pillows.
“Are you sure his condition isn’t psychological?” I asked, once we were in the living room.
“Because of Aimee?”
“Possibly. Maybe the woman in the drawings is a representation of his grief, and he’s more interested in spending time asleep so he can visit her.” If that was the case, then these drawings weren’t keeping him grounded, they were helping him to lose his grip on reality.
“I suppose that would explain the test results, if his issues are all in his head and self-inflicted.” He raked a hand through his hero hair.
“My only reservation is that he’s been perfectly normal until two weeks ago.
If he’s been grieving Aimee, why so suddenly, and why now?
I’m convinced there’s an unnatural influence at work. ”
“Is it the anniversary of her death?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to check my records.”
“Did she die unexpectedly?”
“Heart attack,” Dr. Adam said. “She’d still been physically active right up until her death. It’s not uncommon.”
“If he hasn’t dated anyone since Aimee, maybe he’s been suppressing his grief instead of dealing with it.”
“It’s possible.” He paused. “On that note, I’ve been meaning to ask—how are you?”
“Fine. How are you?”
His tender expression remained unchanged. “You must still be grieving Judd.”
“Of course.” Although I knew I didn’t sound like it. To an outsider, I sounded like an automated telephone prompt.
“If you ever want to talk, my door is always open. Doesn’t need to be in my official capacity. We can be two friends having an earnest conversation.”
“I appreciate the offer.” I dropped my voice to a whisper, on the off chance that Ronald could hear us. “Would you mind if I warded Ronald’s bedroom?”
A smile played upon his lips. “Since when do wards protect us against grief?”
“Just in case this has something to do with the shadow.” I wouldn’t want to find out the hard way that I was wrong.
“Feel free to do whatever you think is best, Maya. I have faith in you.” His gaze lingered on me, hopeful and expectant.
“I need to grab a few things from home and then I’ll be back.”
“Should I wait for you?”
“No thanks. I work better without an audience. I can use the skeleton key to let myself in.”
He didn’t bother to hide his disappointment. “If you’re sure.”
“Very.”
How could I tell him the truth—that he was the type of person who healed others, and I was the type who hurt them?
He organized funerals for loved ones, and I orchestrated death sentences.
It didn’t matter how many years had passed.
I couldn’t change who I’d been, what I’d done.
I would be that same woman until the day I died.
I could try to atone, sure, but I wasn’t the earth washed clean by the rain.
There would always be remnants of my former self that I couldn’t scrub away.
“You know, Maya, it might not be as risky as you think to let someone in. You might even enjoy it.”
The druid had no idea how wrong he was. “My life is manageable exactly as it is now, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have magical than manageable?”
I offered a sad smile. “Maybe in the next life,” I said.
But certainly not in this one.