Secrets Of The A-List Complete Collection, Episodes 1-12. Cat Schield

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       Chapter Five

      Mariella was still livid that she hadn’t been consulted about Harrison’s move to this private clinic. How dare someone take that decision out of her hands. How dare they move him without her express permission! When she found out who had authorized his transfer, heads would roll.

      She looked out of the tinted windows of the limousine as they approached an automated gate sliding across its tracks. The car passed into the grounds of Whispering Oaks, and Mariella caught a glimpse of a large white house perched on top of a cliff. It was the perfect spot for a hideaway property, Mariella thought. Isolated, out of the way, off the beaten track.

      Mariella turned her head to look at Joe’s profile. He looked haggard, she thought, as, she was sure, did she. “Have you managed to find out why Harrison was moved and by whom?”

      Joe’s chest rose and fell, and a shadow crossed his eyes. “Just be patient a little while longer, honey. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

      Mariella tapped the tip of her finger against her thigh. “I’ve known you for a long time, and when you call me honey, I know that there’s a heap of trouble coming my way.”

      Joe reached out and covered her hand with his, his skin tanned and his fingers long. Joe was an affectionate guy, and she was happy to feel connected, to allow the warmth of his hand to seep under her skin, up her arm. Annoyed at the burn of the tears, Mariella cursed herself, blinked the annoying moisture away and stared straight ahead, her brain idly cataloging the landscaped gardens, the swaths of emerald lawn, the luxury mansion with its many windows.

      “It looks like a luxury rehab center,” Mariella commented.

      Joe nodded. “It acts as one, if the addict is influential or rich enough to be admitted. But this is, at its heart, a small hospital with cutting-edge technology and hugely experienced and very smart doctors. Harrison needs to be here—it’s the best place to be.”

      “I’m not disputing that, I just have a problem with the fact that the decision to move him here was not mine, that I was not consulted,” Mariella told him.

      “What happened?”

      Mariella shrugged. “After the press conference, I went to see Harrison and ran into Dr. Grant before I could reach his room. He told me that he completely supported my decision to airlift Harrison to this clinic, that he’d receive excellent treatment here. He assumed that I knew what he was talking about, and I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t and that I wasn’t told about his transfer out of St. Aloysius.” Mariella shuddered. “Imagine if that titillating titbit hit the press.”

      Joe’s hand tightened on hers.

      “Someone used my name to move him. Who could’ve done that? How did they manage it so quickly?”

      The car pulled to a stop outside the portico leading to the hospital entrance, and it didn’t escape Mariella’s attention that Joe used their arrival as an excuse to avoid her question.

      The driver exited the vehicle and opened the door to Joe, who turned to help Mariella from the car. Pushing her sunglasses off her face, she noticed that there was a clear view through the front door to the Pacific Ocean on the other side of the house. A tiny sailboat was heading at a fast clip across the surface of the sea, and she desperately wished that she was on that boat, wind in her hair, sailing away.

      Joe’s fingers rested on her lower back, and his voice was a slow drawl in her ear. “The children will be here in a few minutes.”

      “If they weren’t followed by the vultures,” Mariella retorted. “Damned press. I’m still angry about that fight. I raised them better than that.”

      They stepped into the cool air of the entrance hall and were immediately approached by a stern but handsome man. The stethoscope hanging around his neck was a good clue that he was Harrison’s doctor. Mariella idly noticed that the jacket draped over his forearm did not match his suit pants. Unable to pull her eyes from that jacket, Mariella felt icy fingers dance up her spine. Something was wrong, badly wrong. For some odd reason Mariella suddenly felt like she was standing in the headlights of an oncoming train. She wanted to jump off the rails, but she was attached to the track, bound and helpless. It would be up to the train conductor to stop the train—her fate was in someone else’s hands.

      “Mom!”

      Mariella turned and watched Elana fly into the hallway. She opened her arms, and Elana burrowed in close, her wild-child daughter suddenly a little girl again. Mariella kissed the top of her head, patted her back and whispered encouragement in her ear. Over Elana’s shoulder she watched Gabe, Luc and Rafe walk up the stairs and into the hallway, all three of them sporting hard expressions and cool eyes.

      The doctor cleared his throat, and Mariella stepped away from Elana but kept her arm around her daughter’s slim waist. Holding her hand out to the doctor, she introduced herself and her family.

      “I am Dr. Michael Malone, chief medical officer here at Whispering Oaks. I am treating your husband.”

      “Has there been any improvement?” Mariella asked, dropping her arm from Elana’s waist.

      “No, I’m afraid that hasn’t happened. His condition hasn’t changed,” Dr. Malone replied gravely.

      “Can I see him?” Mariella demanded.

      “The nurses are busy with him now. Perhaps in half an hour. Ten minutes at a time, and only two visitors every hour for the first day,” Dr. Malone said, his tone suggesting that they not argue. It wouldn’t help, Mariella thought. This man ruled this space.

      She’d choose her battles wisely, and if she didn’t push him on visiting hours, he might give her something else. “Can you tell me who authorized Harrison’s transfer to your facility?”

      Dr. Malone didn’t react at all. “I am afraid I cannot.”

      Call her spoiled and indulged, call her whatever you like, but Mariella detested hearing the word no. “I insist you tell me. He is my husband and my responsibility.”

      “That may be so, madam, but I cannot.”

      Mariella lifted her chin, ignoring Joe’s hand on her arm. He was trying to get her to back down, walk away, but Mariella’s blood was up and she wanted answers. And she wanted them now. “You must!”

      “I can’t, because I don’t know.”

      Mariella blinked then frowned. He spoke the truth, she realized, his words sinking in. His eyes never dropped from hers, never wavered. He truly didn’t know. “How is that possible?”

      “Many СКАЧАТЬ