“I would tread lightly, if I were you,” Oliver says.
“Oliver is right. I asked Sarah about her foster family once. Big mistake. She’s too sensitive. I walk on eggshells to avoid upsetting her.”
“Fine. You talk to her then.” Sophie focuses on Oliver. “Be my guest, she seems to open up to you.”
“She might not come back. She said she doesn’t belong here, and just feels in danger.”
“I don’t believe this. Starting with why does she tell you things? Is she in love with you or something?”
Oliver sighs, though it isn’t the most outrageous idea. “You, sweetheart, have the tact of a rhinoceros.”
“Bullshit.”
“See what I mean? That mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble.” He says it like it hasn’t already.
“Screw you. God, screw you.”
The words pass around him like ether. “Your sense of empathy is all Greek to me. You hadn’t seen Sarah since you were kidnapped, since you both were. You could’ve at least asked her how she’s been for these past weeks. I was doing very well with her until you came in.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you know I didn’t ask her?”
“You were less than five minutes up there.”
“All right, that’s enough.” Aunt Peg slams her hands down on the table and stands. “How about you stop fighting and we stick to looking for Sarah?”
“You two can look for her on your own,” Sophie says. “I wouldn’t want my retarded empathy to get in your way and all, so I’ll just take my leave here.” She turns on her heels and storms away, her ponytail bouncing behind.
“Sophie,” Oliver’s voice rumbles.
Just as she steps outside, her phone rings. It’s Eric again.
“Eric.” She answers while briskly marching toward Reed’s car. “To what do I owe this unpleasant surprise?”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been calling you all day.”
“That’s kind of an answer in itself, don’t you think?”
“I just thought you might want to know Jess is in the hospital.”
ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES later, Sophie rushes into the hospital, across the waiting room, and sees Eric, in green scrubs, leaning on the reception counter.
Her steps are quick and frantic. “I got here as soon as I could. What happened?”
Eric straightens himself, then tilts his head for her to follow him.
“Tell me,” she says. Worry fills her voice as she matches his pace to walk alongside him. She grabs his arm and forces him to look at her. “Hey, tell me!”
“Okay, first of all, lower your voice. You’re in the hospital,” he says coldly, then sighs. “Second, she’s doing all right. Third,” he moves toward her slowly, likes there’s much to be said but too little can be.
She wonders why he is being so introverted. “What?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“Eric. What?”
He clears his throat and tries again. “They brought you here after you were found. I was in the operating room with you.” He looks down into her doleful eyes, needing her to know he’s serious. “You had one foot in the grave, Sophie.”
Yeah, this isn’t uncomfortable at all. “I didn’t know,” she replies simply. “About you being there, I mean. I’m actually finding out a lot of things I should’ve been told ages ago. I’m getting very sick of it.”
“I was one of the few MDs on duty. Your boyfriend refused to allow me to examine you. I’m not exactly on his hot list.”
Or mine. “You can say that again.”
“There’s another thing you might want to be aware of.” He looks around for eavesdroppers and slips his hands into his pockets. “Final toxicology test just came in a few days ago. It reveals fatal traces of opiates in your bloodstream prior to surgery.”
She blinks. “Drugs?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? You’re a bit of a miracle. Hydrocodone, Oxycodone, Diazepam, Xanax, the works. A cocktail of painkillers.”
“Whoa.” She holds up her hands. “I don’t go anywhere near that stuff.”
He throws her a concerned gaze. “I’m supposed to tell you ‘don’t be stupid, see a physician, don’t self-medicate,’ but then again, I tell people to stay off drugs and sleep eight hours a day, yet I work forty hour shifts and smoke weed to go to sleep. I understand you live a stressful and hectic life. Things take a toll on you.”
“Eric, damn it, I don’t do drugs! I…I get weird on Valium. I’m intolerant or something.”
“That’s Diazepam.”
“I don’t take pills or drugs or anything like that. I swear to God.”
“Then what?”
“Then someone gave them to me.”
“Someone?”
E L E V E N
* * *
More of That Jazz
SHE DOESN’T WANT to say his name. Every time she says his name it’s like someone reaches inside and grips her heart with razor sharp claws.
“They weren’t taken in excess,” Eric says, “but the combination proves lethal for you. You were barely breathing when you came in. Listen, I know a guy in forensics. He said that lawyer, Michael Locke, he’s been making calls, snooping around.”
“Why? What does he want?”
“What do you think, Sophie? Evidence that will support his client.”
“Bridges.” Alas, she says his name.
“Yeah. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “Can we please talk about Jess now? What happened?”
He agrees. “She hasn’t been eating.” Eric thinks for a moment, then says, “Jess’s Mysophobia got so bad her natural response was to avoid any situation where there might be germs. Such is the case of food.”
Her mind buzzes. “I can’t believe it came to this. Is that why she has bruises all over her body?”
“Yeah. Her skin tissue and circulation have been affected. Blood without much oxygen is purple-like. Early stages of her body shutting down. She’s tired because she doesn’t eat; she’s pale because she doesn’t eat, and she bruises easily because she doesn’t eat.”
“Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Hey, back off. I didn’t know, all right?” he growls back at her. “I only found out about this yesterday. What about you, huh? Why didn’t you do something?”
She didn’t. Well, shit. “You’re seriously going to tell me you didn’t know about the bruises?”
“Like I said, I just found out.”
“So, like, when she takes her clothes off, do you close your eyes? Or how do you…” Her face is rumpled with curiosity.
“No, wiseass, we haven’t had sex.”
She scoffs. “Say again?”
“We’ve talked about it, but she’s just too paranoid. I have to go through a decontamination process if I want to touch her and she’ll hold my hand only if she can wash hers afterward. I kissed her once and she said I gave her an ulcer.”
“Wow. That’s something you don’t hear every day.”
“That’s kind of why I kissed you.”
She crosses her arms and sighs for hostile emphasis. “Now what?”
“I’m not in love with you or anything, I swear. I just wanted to kiss someone without them thinking I could infect them.”
Sophie uncrosses her arms. “Can I see Jess?”
“What? No poisonous look?”
She’s past Eric and his reasons simply don’t matter anymore.
He gestures at the door. Sophie walks up to it and before she turns the handle, looks back to Eric and says, “Hey, if anything else comes up…”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know,” he promises, then disappears down the white hospital corridor.
Sophie pushes the door open slightly, not wanting to create a ruckus, and steps insi
de the room. Jess is on the bed flipping through a magazine.
She looks up, setting the magazine aside. “Sophie.” Her voice is hoarse and filled with emotion.
“Jesus, Jess.” Sophie shakes her head, walking toward her. “You’re not supposed to be here. How are you feeling?”
“Drugged.”
“Other than that.”
She lifts her arm for Sophie to see. “Like a pincushion.” She chuckles at her little joke.
“Jess, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to hear you joke…just don’t go joining any sort of live performance anytime soon, at least until you’re fully recovered. But seriously, how are you?”
“Well, aside from the deadly microbes thriving in this place, I’d say I’m doing good. Eric says I’ll be out tomorrow.”
“That’s great news. Are your folks in town?”
“They’ll get here soon.”
“If you like, you can all have dinner with us for Thanksgiving. I’m cooking a bird and everything.”
“You cooking, huh? Like an actual meal? For people to eat?”
Sophie smiles. “I see you got jokes today.”
“It’s the drugs. They make me funny.”
She sits on the bed next to Jess and squeezes her feeble hand and quaking fingers. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”
“For what, silly? I’m okay.”
“I knew something was happening with you, but I was too big of a coward to ask. I’m sorry for not being there for you.”
Jess’s lips tremble. “If we’re being honest, I’m the coward. I didn’t want to admit how I was feeling. Plus, you had so much going on. I didn’t want to pile anything else on you.”
“I’m not going to argue with you on that…but still, we’re friends. We’re supposed to help each other.”
Jess smiles, amazed by Sophie’s kind and nurturing attitude.
“I see you a lot on TV,” she says softly. “Sophie, are you okay? Is Oliver okay?
“Yeah. We’re okay.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“I’m okay,” she repeats.
Sophie and Jess settle into the bed, lying next to each other. Rihanna in all her fabulousness, appears on the TV. Sophie moves her shoulders in a funny, little dance as Jess sings the parts she knows.
“I’m going back to live with my parents,” Jess says after the song ends.
“To Minnesota?”
“Yep. They have to keep an eye on me, apparently. Plus, I can’t afford the apartment anymore.”
“Doesn’t Eric pay rent?”
She signs and makes a small grimace with her mouth. “We kind of broke up.”
“What? He didn’t say anything…about that. What happened?”
“I don’t know. He says he needs time to be alone. He’s pretty stressed out at work.”
“Oh, please, Obama is stressed out at work. How much time did he say he needs?”
“Indefinitely.”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah.” A small, glistening tear slides down her cheek. “Am I ridiculous?”
“Of course not, Jess. You broke up. You’re in the hospital. This girl I know once said to me: ‘It’s okay if you’re not okay.’”
Jess chuckles lightly. “She sounds super smart.”
“You’ll be back on your feet in no time. And you need to eat a cheeseburger like right now. As for Eric, well, he’s going to be sorry he lost you.”
“Tell me about it. He’s been hanging around here all day. I think he wants to get back together.”
“Rewind. I’m confused.”
“Well, I can tell he regrets his decision.”
“He’s doing his residency at the hospital, Jess. I think he’s supposed to be here.”
“You’re unbelievable, Sophie. You really don’t like him, do you?”
“I’m sorry, that was mean,” she says with her brows scrunched together. “You’re totally right. He must be very worried about you. It’s just…how many times have you guys broken up?”
“I know we have our problems. But we always find a way back to each other.”
“Jess, I’m sorry to always burst your dreamy bubble, honestly, but this isn’t Sex and the City. You’re not Carrie and Big. You can’t keep breaking it off. That shit’s just not classy. Or healthy.”
“He says he misses me and loves me.”
“Well, yeah. I’m sure he does. He’d be a moron not to.”
Jess looks at Sophie plaintively. “Did he do something to make you not trust him?”
It’s now or never. Never. “No.”
“Then what is your problem with him? Please, tell me.”
“I just…seriously, I want you to be happy,” Sophie says. “Relationships are like food. If we feed ourselves with something that has expired or has no nutritional value, it causes us harm.” She pauses for a second, then, “Oh, my God! I sound like a mom!”
Jess giggles. “Yeah, you do. I don’t need another one. I need a friend.”
“Fair enough.”
They spend the rest of the day doing BFF things. Sophie paints Jess’s nails bright pink, and they watch The Big Bang Theory, insanely laughing at Sheldon’s antics. Sophie, without realizing it, too needed her friend. Nothing is as therapeutic as a girlfriends’ session.
Goodbyes said, hugs given, tears shed, Sophie walks toward the door, but then stops. Without turning around, she takes a deep breath and says, “Eric kissed me.”
Slowly she turns to face Jess’s disturbed face, adding, “I didn’t tell you because I really hoped you would realize that you deserve better. My head was in another place. I messed up. I didn’t know how to be a friend to you. I’m sorry, there’s really no excuse. And it’s not your fault or mine that he cheated. It’s his. I know my timing is terrible, with you being here. Shit. I’m so sorry, Jess. I couldn’t lie to you anymore.”
She twists the sheets with her fingers, but very calmly says, “A kiss is not cheating. It’s nothing.”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear me?”
“Uh…yes. But, uh, am I on glue here? A kiss on the mouth is cheating. It’s a betrayal of trust and respect for your partner. You wouldn’t do it to him, would you?”
Jess shrugs off her irritation. “Weren’t you leaving? Well, go then!”
“Jess, please, I—”
“Go!”
“WHERE TO, BOSS?” Reed asks, starting up the car.
“Anywhere.”
“Excuse me?”
“If you could just drive around, anywhere. Anywhere at all.”
He nods into the rear-view mirror and slowly pulls away from the curb.
Reed sees trembling hands rubbing watery eyes.
“Is everything all right, boss?”
She yawns. “I’m just tired. It was a long day.”
Awhile later, Reed slows and turns into a cul-de-sac. He parks and turns off the headlights to the Mercedes.
“Where are we?” Sophie follows Reed’s line of sight to the house on the other side of the street. There’s a light on downstairs. Through the large front window, you can see a woman and a young boy having dinner.
“Is that your family?”
“Wife and son.”
Finally! He opens up. “What’s your son’s name?”
“Jesse. He wants to be a pilot. I built him an airplane bed. His mom and I are taking him to Florida to see the Blue Angels for Christmas.”
“That’s wonderful, Reed. I’ve never heard you talk about your family before.”
“The job is not a bed of roses. It doesn’t leave much room for family. But that’s my whole world in there.”
“It’s not like you’re a killer.”
“I’ve killed people before.”
She swallows. “Why did you bring me here?”
“You said anywhere,” he replies, gazing out at the scene he wishes he was part of. “Let’s get you home, Miss Cavall.” He starts up the car.
Down the road, Sophie becomes tangled in an emotional web. She really screwed up at the hospital with Jess, and was completely taken aback by Eric’s words. That sick bastard John Henry Bridges drugged her to a state of semi-consciousness. Did he do that with other victims? Is that why every muscle in her body felt heavy and there was no way to escape, let alone move? What exactly was Sarah’s involvement? Is she really mentally ill or is it just another one of Bridges’s tricks?
The outburst of questions flood her mind, and Sophie knows there is only one man who can answer them. Her brain’s television keeps forcing her to watch the same program over and over again—the one that shows her how much she doesn’t know about Sarah, Bridges, and why she was kidnapped. Because that’s just it…sometimes what keeps a person from letting go and moving is not having answers. They might not be good answers, but Sophie needs to make sense of the nonsense. It’s not about forgiveness or closure. It’s about certainty. She needs to know why.
“Reed, can I ask you something?”
He eyes the mirror. This is enough of an answer for her to proceed.
“I was looking at your résumé. It says you worked with the department of defense.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Right. If I needed to…say…oh, I don’t know, visit someone in a maximum-security prison, but I didn’t know which one, would you be able to help me with that?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Besides, Bridges isn’t in prison. He’s in Ironport.”
“Okay, and where’s that? I thought his location was rough speculation.”
“For security reasons, prison officials won’t say where he is. But there are rumors. Word on the street is, he was sent to Ironport. It isn’t technically a prison; it’s a…facility.”
“What kind of facility?”
“A better equipped one. Specifically designed for people of interest. There is no escape. It was allegedly shut down years ago after the government found out terrorists were being held there and interrogated.”
She tries to wrap her head around what Reed is saying. “You must know someone who can get me inside.”
“That isn’t in my job description.”
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