Wicked Lies Read Free Page B

was the knowledge that he, Dr. Maurice Zellman, had been wrong, after all.

CHAPTER 2
    S ssisssterrr . . .
    Whore . . . !
    With Satan’s evil incubus growing inside you . . . !
    The voice rasped against Laura’s brain again. She flinched and nearly stumbled as she thrust up the mental wall against him again on her way to surgery to check on Conrad’s condition. But her worst fears were confirmed: it was Justice.
    And he knew she was pregnant??? How?
    The frisson that shivered down her spine was an old friend. She’d felt it before many times, but not since Justice Turnbull had been captured, convicted, and locked away. Not like this. Not with this harsh hammering into her thoughts.
    Outside the doors to the surgical ward she glanced around, always a bit uncertain that someone else couldn’t hear him as well, though she knew from experience she was the only one. She could block him from digging into her thoughts and feelings, but she could not prevent her own mental receptors from hearing him.
    He was a devil. A scourge. A sickness that frightened them all. He was—
    “Laura?” Her ex, Byron Adderley, broke into her thoughts, causing her to jerk as if goosed. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded instantly. Frowning, he stripped a pair of surgical gloves from his hands and tossed them into a trash receptacle. His eyebrows rose, as if he were waiting for her to answer.
    Like an obedient puppy, she thought sourly.
    He’d just come from surgery, she realized. Of course she would run into him. Of course. Murphy’s Law. Pulling herself together, she ignored his question. “How’s Conrad? Do you know?”
    “Who? Oh. That security guard?” He shoved a thinning shock of coffee-dark hair from his eyes. “We drilled into his head to relieve the pressure in case of a subdural hematoma. Hope he has a brain left. Someone beat him half to death.” He actually smiled, as if he’d said something clever. “That what you wanted to know?”
    “I was just concerned.”
    His smile fell away and Byron gazed at her hard. “You like him?”
    “I barely know him,” she shot back. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
    “Yeah, well. ‘Okay’ is maybe not the word for it.” Byron yawned. He stretched his arms over his head in a move she remembered, one she’d once thought was sexy. No longer. “God, I gotta get some sleep,” he admitted. “I was out late last night, and this morning came early.”
    Like she cared.
    “What about Dr. Zellman?” Being a floor nurse, and not part of the surgical team, Laura was forced to get information secondhand.
    “Jesus. He’s lucky to be alive! That fuckin’ psychotic stabbed Zellman, too. Got his voice box but good.” Byron actually sounded a little concerned. “Could be, Zellman never speaks again.”
    “Oh, I hope you’re wrong.” She glanced past him toward the double doors that led into surgery. “That’s what they’re saying?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “Too early to tell.”
    “The psychotic who did this . . . ?”
    “No surprise there. You remember the one. Justice Turnbull.” Byron shook his head, his unruly forelock falling forward again. “A whole new kind of crazy.” He stifled another yawn. “Think Turnbull’ll come back to his old stomping grounds and go after those cult freaks again?”
    Laura went completely still. Tried not to look as if his remark had hit a nerve. “The sheriff’s department will find him,” she said with an effort.
    “Oh, yeah.” He barked out a laugh. “Count on them.”
    Ever the cynic.
    Laura had heard enough. “I’ve gotta get back to work.” She turned on her heel.
    “Hey. Laura.” She didn’t so much as look over her shoulder and set her jaw. How had she ever found him attractive, and why the hell had she married him? Her thoughts strayed to the child growing within her, his child, the baby that Justice seemed to sense, and her insides went numb. “When are you going to stop dyeing your hair?” Byron