heard them when we were outside.” He studied the primitive pottery displayed in the glass-fronted niches above the cabinetry, and then the empty counters below them. “You didn’t find any cookware, did you?”
“No. All the dishes and utensils are plastic or foam, so cleanup will be easy.” She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but even a whisper might be picked up by hidden mics or the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Come on; you’ve got to see the living room in this place.”
Charlie led him out of the kitchen and across the hall to the large room she had mentally dubbed “the pit.” Bright orange, purple, and blue wall murals imitated a tropical sunset, and made a dramatic backdrop for three different pit groups in matching colored velvet, suede, and raw silk. Swags of metallic ribbons and silk flowers hung down over wide windows offering different views of the greenery outside.
“If it were any brighter in here, I’d probably develop instantaneous cataracts.” Charlie picked up one of the intricately embroidered pillows that had been scattered around the cushions. “How are you supposed to take a nap in a room like this?”
“I don’t think napping was the decorator’s intention.” Sam reached out and ran his hand over the purple velvet before turning his head to look back through the door at the kitchen. “Are the other rooms like this?”
“Some variations on the theme, but basically, yes. Nice furniture, bright colors, lots of fancy fabrics. No televisions, stereos, or other electronic gadgets that could tell us where the hell we are, but art on all the walls and plenty of color-coordinated fruit.” She eyed the basket of pomegranates, tangerines, and plums on the low table in the center of one pit group. Something about the fruit nagged at her, but she didn’t know why.
“Let’s have a look at that speaker in the bedroom,” Sam suggested.
Before they went into the bedroom upstairs, Charlie showed Sam the exam room.
“It’s got everything you’d find in a treatment room in any trauma center,” she said as she sat on the end of the exam table. “I could even run labs in here.”
“Indeed.” Sam peered into one cabinet. “Why would you need to?”
“I don’t know, but this is the weirdest thing.” She showed him the blood in cold storage. “Twenty-eight pints—enough to transfuse a dozen patients—but not a mark on one of them. I can’t even tell if it’s human blood unless I run some tests.”
Sam walked around the exam table. “What are these?” he asked, touching one of the corner universal socket clamps.
“We use them to attach add-ons and extensions to the table, like arm boards, IV pools, stirrups, that kind of thing.” She bent over to open one of the drawers under the table. “He stowed the extensions under here.”
His expression turned bleak as he turned his back on the security camera and took her hand. “I could use a hug,” he said, shifting his eyes up. As soon as she gave him a decidedly reluctant embrace, he put his mouth next to her ear and murmured, “Any surgical equipment?” Quickly she shook her head. “Good.”
She didn’t know whether she agreed, especially since the nearest hospital might as well have been on the surface of the moon. “Just don’t burst an appendix anytime soon, okay?” she muttered back.
He kept one arm around her as they left the treatment room and went down the hall to the master bedroom suite. Once inside Samuel went directly to the wall speaker to inspect it, giving Charlie a moment to compose herself.
The stress of the last twenty-four hours combined with discovering that the rich, handsome stranger whose life she’d saved was someone she had considered her closest friend in the world had begun to grind on her. Her EMT training was the only reason she hadn’t dissolved into a puddle of helpless feminine goo, and now that Sam had miraculously recovered she wasn’t too sure how
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