WHEN Eden awoke she knew she was in a hospital. The smell and the sounds were unmistakable. She looked around the small room at the picture of the seashells on a beach hanging on the wall, and at the machine next to her bed, to which she seemed to be hooked. She saw the hard gray chair by the bed, and the roses on the table at her side. Sunlight was coming through the window, so she knew it was morning.
She lay back against the bed and closed her eyes for a moment. Vaguely, she remembered what had happened.
“Good morning.”
Eden looked up to see Braddon Granville standing beside her, a bouquet of spring flowers in his arms.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Better than what, Mr. Granville?” she asked, trying to sit up, but she hurt all over, so she lay back down.
“Brad, please. After what you and I went through last night, I think we’re on a first-name basis.”
“Who was he? What did he want?”
“Oh,” Brad said, looking at the floor.
Instantly, Eden knew that whoever the man was he hadn’t been a thief. She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready. How big of a fool did I make of myself last night?”
“What do you remember?”
She turned her head away. Eden remembered the other attack, but that time she hadn’t woken up in a hospital. Her parents had allowed her to miss school until her bruises healed, but nothing more. She looked back at Brad. All she seemed able to remember was hitting, biting, scratching, clawing. Who had she hurt? “I don’t remember much about last night. I—”
She cut off because a police officer entered the room, smiling at her. He was young and strong-looking, and he seemed to be highly amused about something. “Is there really only one of you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Eden said.
“We were taking bets that there were at least three of you to do what you did to McBride. Brad, are you sure you want to tangle with this wildcat?”
“Come on, Clint,” Brad said, chastising the young man but also enjoying his connection to Eden. “She’s been through enough, so don’t tease her. I’m not sure she remembers what happened last night.”
“I can believe that,” Clint said. “But I still need to ask her some questions. What time did you get home?”
“I don’t know the exact time,” Eden said. She felt as though she’d been thrown by a horse and trampled on. Every muscle hurt, and every molecule of her body was tired. “Could you please tell me what happened?”
Clint started to ask another question, but Brad stopped him. “I don’t think there’re going to be any charges.”
“Charges? Are there charges against me?” Eden asked.
Brad put his hand over hers. “No, Eden, no one is going to charge you with anything. Young Clint here was wondering if you were going to press charges against McBride for trespassing and entering.”
“I guess McBride is the man I…?”
“Nearly killed with your bare hands?” Clint said, chuckling. “Yeah, he’s the one. Retired police. He said he’d fought two karate experts who didn’t fight as hard as you did. Of course, between you and me, I don’t think he fought back any. That’s why he got so beat up. They had to give him a tetanus shot for the bites. You should see the one—”
“Clint!” Brad said sharply, “would you mind your manners, please?”
“Yes, sir,” Clint said, obviously speaking to a man he’d known all his life.
“Why don’t you go get some coffee? I’d like to talk to Ms. Palmer now.”
When they were alone, Brad sat down by the bed and took Eden’s hand in his.
“What did I do to that man and who is he?”
“He’s your next-door neighbor. I started to tell you about him yesterday, but we got sidetracked. He rented what used to be the washhouse.”
“So why was he in my house?”