McLeod eyed him up and down. "You never mentioned this before."
Peregrine grimaced. "I'm not sure I even really noticed until I started trying to pin down why I'm still so uneasy about this whole thing. I'm still not sure whether it was worth mentioning."
His elders traded glances. "It's still possible that the fogginess can be ascribed to whatever entity they were trying to contact," Julian suggested.
"Aye, or it could have been someone's attempt to set us up for a wild goose chase," McLeod said grimly. "God, I don't want to even think about possibilities like that, especially with Adam away!"
"Do you think we ought to give him a call?" Peregrine asked, owl-eyed behind his spectacles.
An odd smile quirked at the corners of Julian's mouth.
"Actually, no," she said. "He's otherwise engaged."
McLeod glanced at her sharply.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means," she said, "that Adam is engaged. He's going to marry Ximena tomorrow night. Philippa rang me a few hours before you arrived."
"But, why didn't you tell us?" Peregrine blurted, a huge grin creasing his face as McLeod's stunned first reaction gave way to a similarly delighted smile.
"I am telling you - and I didn't want your analysis of the situation at Callanish to be clouded by distractions. Since we're all agreed that we don't really know anything yet, I think it's safe to delay bothering Adam until we do know something."
"That rascal!" McLeod muttered, still smiling. "He couldn't wait to do it here, in proper style - "
"Oh, they're still going to do it here," Julian assured him. "Christopher would never speak to him again if they didn't. Tomorrow night's ceremony will be a very small, private one - and there's no time for licenses and the like, so it won't even be legal - but Alan Lockhart's dying wish is to see his daughter married. Apparently Adam doesn't expect him to last much beyond the ceremony."
Sorrow shadowed Peregrine's sensitive face.
"That's going to be hard," he murmured. "I know it's for the best, but - "
"I don't think there's any question of intruding at a time like this," McLeod said quietly. "We can handle this for now - and we'll certainly keep alert for traps and red herrings. Meanwhile, I'll start running inquiries first thing in the morning about our mysterious Taliere - though getting the results back may take a bit longer than usual. Most of the relevant agencies will be shutting down early for the holiday weekend. I don't think we can expect to hear anything before Tuesday." "Then we'll definitely wait before worrying Adam," Julian replied with a smile. "And mum's the word, until you're told otherwise. Let him enjoy his Christmas while he can."
Chapter Eleven
IN a hospital room in San Francisco, Adam leaned down to plug in the lights on a tiny Christmas tree set on a bedside locker, then took a seat beside the man propped up in the bed.
"I've had a chance to review your case notes, Alan," he said casually. "I also managed a few minutes with Andy Saloa, after I read them. I wanted to talk to him about your pain management."
Alan Lockhart's wasted face tightened in a grimace. "It's my pain. My waking hours are short enough as it is. I don't want to spend what's left of my life in a narcotic stupor - especially not now."
Scarcely twenty hours had passed since a laughing yet tearful Ximena had told him of accepting Adam's proposal of marriage, with a small, intimate ceremony to be held in her father's hospital room on Christmas Eve. Lockhart's response had been one of heartfelt relief, his tears no less joyful than his daughter's; and the other members of the Lockhart family had welcomed the announcement with delight. Ximena's younger brother, Vance, an astronomer, was already scheduled to arrive at midnight, flying in from his research post in the Hawaiian Islands. Philippa would be joining the party later that afternoon, having contrived to secure a flight from Boston in spite of the holiday rush.
The attendant flurry of activity, added to the usual pre-Christmas bustle, had taken Ximena off with her mother this morning to order flowers and a wedding cake, leaving Adam to keep Lockhart company in their absence. That absence now offered Adam the opportunity he had been seeking since his conversation with Dr. Saloa.
"I can certainly appreciate your desire to be clear-headed," he told Lockhart. "I wonder if you're aware, however, that narcotics are not the only option for pain management."
The older man stirred restlessly, his discomfort all too apparent in the lines of strain about his face.
"What else is there, for a man in my condition?" he asked bleakly.
"Dr. Saloa was wondering much the same thing," Adam said. "I suggested that hypnosis might be the alternative both of you have been looking for."
"Hypnosis?" Lockhart said.
"Yes. In fact, it was one of the first options that occurred to me. I use it regularly in my psychiatric practice, but there are medical applications as well as psychological ones. It can be especially useful in the control of pain, particularly when teamed with drug analgesia. When I mentioned the possibility to Dr. Saloa, he was quite open to the idea. If you'd like to give it a try, I'd be more than happy to direct the experiment."
"Hypnosis, you say?"
As Lockhart considered, a light knock at the door heralded the arrival of a dark-haired nurse with a medication tray.
"Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Sinclair, but I have Mr. Lock-hart's medication."
"Not now!" Lockhart blurted, turning to Adam in appeal. "Adam - I think I'd like to try that experiment."
"Very well." Adam glanced at the nurse and smiled. "I think we can take it that Mr. Lockhart consents to Dr. Saloa's alternative orders," he said. "Alan, I'd like to have you let Mrs. Hanna give you half your usual medication, just to take the edge off your discomfort and help you relax."
Lockhart's jaw tightened, pain and a little uncertainty in the gaze he darted toward Nurse Hanna. After a labored swallow, his gaze flicked back to Adam.
"Could you give it to me?" he whispered.
"I could, of course," Adam said with a faint smile, "but you wouldn't want to get Mrs. Hanna into trouble, would you?"
"No, but - "
As Lockhart turned plaintive eyes on the nurse, she moved closer to extend the medication tray to Adam.
"If you don't mind me observing while you administer the medication, Dr. Sinclair - and sign his chart, of course - I'm sure there won't be any problem. Dr. Saloa did authorize the lower dose."
"Alan, will that be all right?" Adam asked.
Closing his eyes gratefully, Lockhart nodded, stirring to watch somewhat apprehensively as Adam injected half the contents of the syringe into a port in his IV line and then busied himself with signing the necessary paperwork. By the time Adam closed the door behind Nurse Hanna, with instructions that they were not to be disturbed, Lockhart was looking somewhat less tight around the lips, though he was still obviously uncomfortable.
"What now?" he asked, as Adam returned to sit in the chair at his bedside. "Watch the watch?"
"Something like that," Adam said with a smile.
From the side pocket of his waistcoat, he produced the antique silver pocket watch that had been left him by his father.
"I was being facetious," Lockhart murmured. "I didn't think you'd really pull out a pocket watch."
Adam's smile deepened as he detached the matching silver chain and fob from his buttonhole. "Actually, just about anything can be used as a focus. But as you've noted yourself, I'm a traditionalist by nature - and you obviously were expecting a pocket watch. Are you reasonably comfortable?"
"I s'pose so."