The Scribe - Hunter Elizabeth (библиотека книг бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

Malachi knew all about not getting his hopes up. So why was he having a hard time believing Damien?

“And there is no cure for them?”

“Not that anyone has found. It’s not a tumor or anything. They’re a bit of a mystery.”

As are you, woman. It wasn’t headaches. At least, that wasn’t all of it. He didn’t know exactly what was going on with the interesting American woman, but he was determined to find out.

Malachi said, “It’s better to be cautious, even with doctors. If there is any background information you’d like on this doctor, let me know. I know many people in Istanbul. Maybe some of my friends or associates have gone to him.”

From her expression, she didn’t like that idea. “I’ll keep it in mind. I’m fine for right now.”

“I just wanted to offer.”

“Noted.” She forced a smile. “But not necessary. I’m fine.”

You are anything but fine.

The tour boat was pulling into the dock, and passengers rose to their feet. Ava joined them without a word, leaving Malachi behind to watch her walk down the gangway. Wordlessly, he stood, then followed her at a comfortable distance as she grabbed a fish sandwich from one of the floating restaurants and walked back toward her hotel, lonely and silent in the afternoon crowd.

Malachi strode into the house and straight to the library, not even stopping to rib Maxim about the bottle of beer the younger man was drinking in the kitchen. He’d left Ava exhausted. He was fairly sure she was done for the day, but the tiny tracker he’d slipped in her bag would alert him if she left the perimeter he’d set up around the grounds of the hotel. And if she was done for the day, then he had some questions for Rhys.

“Sadik,” he said when he spied the shorter scribe sitting at his computer. “He’s the doctor she’s seeing. I saw it on the directory at the building we visited. J. Sadik. I need to know everything about him.”

Rhys turned and frowned. “Had a great day, thanks. The air conditioner is fixed, and the activity logs have been updated and sent to Vienna. And I covered your patrol last night. How was the dinner cruise? Was there a show?”

“No dinner. No show. It was hot but informative.” He paused and tried to slow his brain. “Thank you for covering my shift.”

“Well, since you’re on babysitting duty for the mysterious human, we’re all more than happy to pitch in.” Not even Rhys’s polite accent could hide the sarcasm. Malachi knew the others thought he was following a rabbit trail, but he didn’t care.

“Dr. J. Sa—”

“Sadik.” Rhys turned back to the computer. “I heard you the first time. I’m just trying to force you into social niceties you seem to have forgotten living among the barbarians.” Rhys’s fingers began typing rapidly. The three-hundred-year— old scribe had taken to modern information technology like a duck to water. Not all Irin did. Damien still considered anything more advanced than a telegraph suspicious.

“Thank you, Rhys.”

“Don’t mention it. Really. What kind of doctor?”

“I don’t know. She says she has headaches.”

“Headaches?” he muttered. “That could by physical, psychological… You have no idea what kind of headaches?”

“She wasn’t exactly forthcoming. She said he was a specialist she was referred to.”

Rhys gave him a quiet “ hmph” and kept typing.

“Where?”

“He’s in the city. Just a few miles from here. She saw him last week after the attack in the alley.”

More typing.

“Sadik? You’re sure of it?”

“Who is he? Yes, I’m sure.” Malachi leaned in, looking over the other man’s shoulder, but nothing on the screen made sense.

“There are a number of Sadiks, but none of them are specialists in anything to do with headaches.” More typing. More muttering. Rhys shook his head. “Nothing in the government system… nothing in private. Here’s one who is a pediatrician. An oncologist?”

“It didn’t sound like cancer.”

“That one is a woman, anyway. She said it was a male?”

“Ava referred to ‘him.’”

More typing. “I’m not finding anything that would match. Not in this part of the city.”

Alarm bells started to go off. “What do you mean? There has to be a record. Maybe he moved his office.”

“I’m not finding anything…” Rhys started typing again. “If he’s practicing anywhere in Turkey, I should be able to find him. He’s not in initial searches. I suppose I can keep looking…”

“Yes,” he said. Then quickly added, “Please.”

“See? You can be taught.”

J. Sadik, who are you?

He patted Rhys’s shoulder. “Thanks for checking. I may have to look in other directions.”

Rhys was still frowning, and Malachi knew the scribe was irritated that he hadn’t been able to find the answers his friend was looking for. “She was in Israel before she came here. Maybe the referral came from a doctor there. I’m going to search her medical records. I’ll see what I can find online.”

For some reason, the idea of Rhys digging into Ava’s background irked him. “Is that necessary?”

“Do you want to find out who this doctor is and why she’s seeing him?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you care?”

The other man went back to furious typing while Malachi drifted back toward the kitchen. It was a good question.

Why did he care?

Chapter Four

Ava looked up from her tea when she heard the clanging streetcar moving down Istiklal Avenue. She leaned back and watched it. Pedestrians in the crowded Beyoglu neighborhood moved around the car. Tourists. Locals. Merchants. She was in the heart of Istanbul, but for the first time in her life, the city was… peaceful. The hum of voices had become quieter, easier to ignore. The manic energy that seemed to envelope her most days was absent. Ava felt grounded.

She took a deep breath and had to admit that, for the first time in her life, a doctor’s treatment seemed to be working.

Dr. Sadik’s methods were unusual, to say the least. Holistic in practice, the psychologist had prescribed her a diet of mostly Mediterranean foods and was using a kind of pressure-point massage in addition to talk therapy. She’d been skeptical. But one of his nurses assisted with the massage, and when she’d left the office after the first treatment, Ava had to admit the voices were slightly muffled. She’d felt more focused and relaxed. After a few days, the effects had worn off, but the next appointment showed even more relief. She was going in every three days and was starting to wonder whether she’d ever be able to leave.

Glancing over her shoulder at the man sitting a few tables away, she wondered what her mother would do if she decided to stay. Would she and Carl continue to pay her shadow? Malachi had started following her more closely since the cruise but still kept his distance. He was both the least and the most annoying bodyguard she’d ever had. He was more than discreet and carried himself with a quiet confidence that put her at ease. At the same time, Ava sensed he wanted to come closer—to talk to her, to know her more—but he didn’t. She supposed that was her own fault. It wasn’t his job to keep her company.

Still…

She glanced over her shoulder again. He was sipping tea two tables away from her, lounging in a low chair and pretending to read a paper. Behind his sunglasses, she could see him scanning the street, still vigilant despite the peaceful morning.

Keeping her eyes on him, she spoke in a low voice. “Malachi.”

His eyes zipped immediately to her.

“Yes?”

“You have good hearing.”

“Among other talents.”

She grinned. “Why are you sitting two tables away in an empty cafe?”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “I believe I was told to keep my distance by a certain prickly photographer.”

“Well, that was before we got to be friends.”