The Death of Goldie's Mistress by Linda Norlander

Author:Linda Norlander [Linda Norlander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Level Best Books
Published: 2024-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

I made it across the street to a bench in a little sitting area. My peripheral vision clouded as darkness threatened to overcome and smother me.

Call John. Call him now!

Charlee’s voice encased me, holding off the darkness that was after me. I hardly remember punching in his number. I gasped, trying to get oxygen to my brain. What was happening to me?

“This is John Trapper.”

I prayed it wasn’t his voicemail. “I…I…can you help me?”

“Liza, is that you?”

Talk to him.

I’m not sure what I said, but I must have told him where I was sitting. “Can’t breathe. Please come.”

“Hang on. I’m just across the street.” His voice was calm, and it helped keep the blackness away. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You need to remember. You need to talk to him, or this will never go away.

“I can’t, Charlee.” I gulped at the air. Sweat poured down my face.

A woman with several bags settled down on the bench, looked over at me, and abruptly stood up. “Not getting Ebola from you.”

I don’t know how much time passed. Several busses whooshed by while I sat with my head down, repeating the alphabet. If I kept repeating it, everything would be okay.

He’s here. Talk to him.

“Liza?” John sat next to me and put his arms around me. When was the last time someone provided comfort to me? “Take slow, deep breaths. That’s it.”

The shaking subsided, and with his calming voice, I was able to finally catch my breath. The lady with the bags hovered close by and waggled her finger at John. “She’s got that Ebola. You be careful.”

Slowly, the world turned back to its normal self. Down the street, a car honked. A few feet away, smoke from a cigarette wafted in my direction. Even the lady with the bags decided it was safe to sit on the bench, although she kept as far away from John and me as possible.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. They called a code blue, and I panicked.”

John kept me in his embrace and nodded.

Talk to him.

“You stay out of this,” I muttered.

John pulled away with a puzzled expression.

“Oops, not you.”

He wrinkled his brow. I wondered if he was thinking that he’d just gotten himself entangled with a madwoman.

This is about Josiah. Talk to him.

“Can we go someplace and talk?” I wanted to reassure him that I wasn’t crazy. But here I was—post-panic attack with a voice inside my head issuing orders. Maybe I was nuts.

“That might be a good idea.” He called his clinic to tell them he’d be out for an hour, while we walked down the street to a little coffee shop. My legs felt wobbly and it was nice that he kept me steady with his arm firmly around my waist.

Once we settled at a back table, he brought us both iced teas. Sliding into the seat across from me, he said. “Okay. What was that all about?”

I took a deep shuddering breath and told him about Josiah and the Household.

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