The Orchid Sister

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by LeClaire, Anne D.


  “How old do you think I am?”

  No one spoke for a moment as they assessed him, the taut skin and toned muscles, the thick hair with just a touch of gray at the temples.

  “Thirty-eight?”

  “Forty-one?”

  “Forty-three?”

  He held up his hand to silence them. “As you will see, I am my own best advertisement.” He smiled. “For the past twenty years, I have followed my own regimen. Intelligent nutrition, daily exercise, and the Verner hormone treatment.” He leaned forward. “I am seventy-eight.”

  There were gasps of disbelief.

  I’d like to have hard proof, Maddie thought. She was sure he was lying. He was not the kind of huckster who ended up in jail for tax evasion or misuse of funds, or one who left a path of infidelity and sex scandals floating in his wake. He reminded her of a charismatic leader who spoke words that left hundreds of followers willingly drinking Kool-Aid in the jungle. She looked at the faces of the people in the room. If they had not been so full of wanting, they might have seen behind his mask.

  As surely Kat must have. She was absolutely convinced that Kat had come here as a journalist, and she wondered how she could find her sister without blowing her cover.

  Most of all, she wondered where Kat was now.

  MADISON

  The orientation session ended with a flurry of excitement. Before Verner could step from the platform, a cluster had formed around him. Like fans at a rock concert, Maddie thought. No one moved to leave the room. At that moment the rear door opened and Helen Mercer returned, accompanied by the young woman who had manned the reception desk. They crossed to Verner’s side, and he bent to listen while Mercer whispered something in his ear. He nodded. The girl looked out over the gathering, scanning each face until her gaze landed on Maddie, and she raised a hand to point at her. Maddie’s instinct was to turn away as she continued to be seized by the nearly atavistic need for caution, but she forced herself to be still and meet Verner’s eyes. He pushed through the group, apologizing to those waiting to speak to him, and approached her.

  “Hello,” he said in his smooth huckster voice. “I’m Paul Verner.” He held out his hand. Maddie took it but did not offer her name.

  “There seems to be some confusion,” he said.

  Still, she said nothing, not trusting her voice lest it give away her apprehension.

  “When you arrived, it was believed that you were a member of the group that arrived last evening.”

  Maddie nodded. Her mind raced. She needed time to come up with a story, something that wouldn’t connect her to Kat, even as she tried to find her.

  “That was our mistake. It seems that we were not expecting you.”

  Keep it simple, she thought. While it seemed preposterous to think that the head of a spa of some repute, surrounded by both staff and guests, would present any actual danger, a growing, nearly feral sense of peril thrummed through her body. She forced a smile. “Actually, I’m on vacation. I was staying in Playa del Pedro, and a woman there told me about this place.”

  “Really?” An eyebrow raised. “And who was that?”

  “Her name is Evelyn. She owns a restaurant. La Máscara.”

  “I don’t know of this place.” He smiled apologetically, a smile that did not reach his eyes. “What did she tell you?”

  “She said several people have stopped there for a meal after they’ve been here. She said she’s overheard them talking about what good work you do here. From what she said, I wasn’t exactly sure if it was a medical clinic or a spa, but I had some time free before I headed back home and decided to come see for myself.”

  He smiled. “Good word of mouth is always welcome.” The room had started to empty, except for a few stragglers who hung at the edges, waiting for a private word with Verner. “And how did you get here from the village?”

  “I hired a taxi.”

  “I see.” His eyes searched hers. She forced herself to hold his gaze. “I apologize for all the questions, but we have to be cautious when someone appears unexpectedly.”

  “Oh?”

  “In the past, we’ve had a reporter or two come here pretending to be a client.”

  She searched his face for any indication that he was speaking of Kat. “Would that be a problem?”

  He flashed his smile, one Maddie was sure he intended to be charmingly apologetic. “Oh, there are always doubters. Those who want to disparage our work. As I said in the meeting, some of our treatments are so advanced that they have yet to be approved in the States.”

  “Is it true what you said at the session? You’ve found a way to reverse aging?”

  “We have.”

  “I think I’d like to stay.”

  “We only take referrals. And forgive me for being frank—” He let his eyes travel over her damaged face. “I don’t intend this to be cruel, but we don’t do cosmetic surgery.”

  In spite of his words, Maddie didn’t doubt that he was quite capable of deliberate cruelty, and his comments had found their mark. “I was thinking only for a day or two. A chance to recharge. Get rested.” She had no intention of actually staying. She would find Kat and then get out.

  “Our fee is not insubstantial.”

  “I’m happy to pay whatever it is.”

  He stared at her. She was certain he could see through her lies.

  He turned to Helen Mercer. “Do we have any rooms available for—” He looked at Maddie. “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

  The feral caution was an electric current, humming through her entire body. “Olivia,” she said. “Olivia Moroni.” Instantly she regretted the lie. So foolish. One so easily uncovered. They would require a credit card. She was stuck with it now.

  “All of our rooms in the main residence are at full occupancy,” Mercer said.

  “The main residency? But is there any room anywhere? I’ve come all this way. Even for one night?” She could hear the desperation in her voice. A glance passed between Verner and Mercer, a conversation she was unable to interpret.

  “Perhaps we can find a room.”

  “That would be terrific.” What had possessed her to give them a false name? The complications of her lie enveloped her.

  “While the staff is preparing a room, why don’t I show you around the grounds?”

  “That’s not necessary. I know you must be busy.” She was desperate to be alone, to have the opportunity to investigate. Find Kat. “I’ll just wander around myself.” She wondered what story Kat had fed them. Had she registered as a client and also given a false name? If Verner had already discovered the real reason Kat was here, had that put her in danger?

  “Nonsense,” he said, and guided her from the room. She recoiled from his touch and hoped the movement had been too small for him to discern. They began the tour in the main building. He showed her the dining room and gave her a quick peek into the kitchen, where lunch was being prepared. They crossed through the room where the meeting had been held earlier and went out to the pool and spa area. In the distance, across the yards, Maddie noticed the wall constructed of concrete blocks. They continued walking, heading toward a smaller building. A guard passed them. Like the sleeping man in the shelter by the front gate, he held a carbine.

  “You have armed guards here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why is that necessary?”

  “For the protection of our guests. As I’m sure Helen told you all in her remarks this morning, Mexico is not always the most hospitable for foreigners. We want everyone to feel perfectly safe here.”

  “I see.” This place feels inhospitable, she wanted to say.

  “And, of course, we must safeguard the work we do here. Espionage is rampant in the pharmaceutical industry. What we have discovered would be worth billions to them. We have to be alert to the possibility of spies.” He gave her a sharp glance. “I’m sure you can understand that.”

  “Yes,” she said. She wondered what he would do if he had learn
ed why Kat was really here. She couldn’t shake the belief that Kat had come to investigate what he did. It was the only thing that made sense.

  At last he led her across the courtyard. She noticed a building that, like the wall that surrounded the compound, was constructed of concrete blocks. “What is that?”

  “Our clinic and laboratory. It’s off-limits to guests.”

  “Thank you.” She was eager to explore further but needed to do it alone, without Verner monitoring. The first place she would start was the very building Verner had told her was restricted. “But I’m sure you must be busy. I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

  He turned his searching gaze on her. “Lunch is served at one. After you’ve eaten and had a chance to get settled, stop by the front desk to register, and then we’ll get you scheduled for your lab tests.”

  She hadn’t expected this and scrambled for a plan. “Oh, I won’t be here long enough for any tests. Certainly not more than a day.”

  “That’s not a problem. Our on-site lab can fast-track results.”

  She felt unequal to matching his game, his wits, and couldn’t escape the feeling that he had seen right through her from the first. What had she gotten herself into? She was furious with herself for trotting off alone and not telling Jack. The price of pride. She’d been a fool.

  He walked her back to the main building. A staff member led her to her room. She closed the door. For an instant the instinct to leave, to just walk out the door and head out to the highway and find a way back to the village, was strong. But if Kat was still here, then Maddie couldn’t leave without her. While everything was still fresh in her mind she reviewed the layout of the grounds and buildings, orienting herself. Kat had to be somewhere nearby. She would start by showing her photo to the Mayan woman she had seen sweeping the hall. She dug in the tote and retrieved the photo.

  Her thinking was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mercer entered, and Maddie slipped the picture beneath her tote.

  “I just spoke with Dr. Verner, and he wants to get you registered immediately.”

  “I thought I would do that after lunch.”

  “He wants to get started on your tests.”

  She tried to think of an excuse but feared that protesting too much would only raise their suspicions. Mercer held the door open, waited. Maddie followed her out. They passed the Mayan sweeping the corridor. At last the woman turned, and Maddie gasped.

  Helen Mercer turned. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  “No,” Maddie managed. Was it possible she had really seen a golden K hanging from a chain around the woman’s neck? She looked back toward the Mayan, but she was disappearing behind a door.

  The examination room was in the main building, next to the spa. The whole procedure took more than an hour. Every minute felt like an hour, two. Maddie wanted to find the Mayan. Still giving her name as Olivia Moroni, she filled out four pages of forms and questionnaires, a complete listing of her medical history, all conditions, allergies, operations, and medications, including supplements. She did not list the Xanax. Finally, she was directed to change into an examining gown. She was weighed and her height measured. She gave a urine sample. Two vials of blood were taken. Again, as she had with Verner, she protested, saying she would not be staying and would not be signing up for all the clinic offered, but the technicians brushed aside her protests.

  When at last they were finished, Maddie nearly ran back to her room. The Mayan was not in sight. Maddie tried the door she had watched her disappear behind, but it was locked. She felt doubt edge in. Could she trust a fleeting glance of what looked to be Kat’s necklace from their mother? Was Maddie only seeing what she wanted to see?

  Her tote was on top of a short dresser where she had left it. She picked it up, looked for the photo where she had put it earlier when Mercer had come to take her for testing. It wasn’t there. She sorted through her tote—wallet, hairbrush, little pouch of makeup—looking for the photo of Kat, but it was not there.

  Neither was her passport.

  GRACIELA

  It was late in the morning when they came for Graciela. When she saw two men, she began to cry. No pesos. She didn’t want the money they had promised. She only wanted to leave.

  The first attendant laughed.

  She knew it was futile to struggle. Or cry out. The sense that her padre was near, was coming to get her, was fading. Fading. Fading. Fading. So fast it was as if it had never been.

  They took her to the room with the bright light and hard table. The norteamericano with the eyes of the devil waited for her. Although she knew the futility of it, she began to fight against the hands that pinned her to the table. They fastened the straps. She waited for the needle they would put in her arm, waited for them to fill the tubes with blood, but instead her legs were pulled apart and her feet placed in the stirrups, exposing her again.

  She cried out in pain. And then began to scream. The doctor spoke harshly to the woman by his side. Almost immediately she felt the pinch of a needle in her arm. And then her mouth grew dry. She squeezed her eyes shut. Behind her lids, she saw the blue-painted girl from her dreams. Evil lives in this place, the girl whispered. Graciela knew this. She knew evil was being done to her.

  She tried to cry out. To her padre. Her madre. To the Virgin Mother. Even to Ángel. No one came to help her. There was a whirling in her head, spinning. From a distance she felt hands, heard noises. The doctor was moving quickly now. A switch was flipped and the soft sound of a pump motor filled the room. She cried out again at the violation. He pulled the machine closer. Began the suctioning.

  When she regained consciousness, she was back in her room, bleeding from her place of shame. She had never felt pain like this, and again, as she had when they had taken her, she cried for her madre, sobbed as she had when she was only a little girl. Once she thought she saw the Mayan child sitting on the floor in the corner next to the pair of red shoes that had belonged to her madre. The child spoke then in a language that Graciela couldn’t understand, but the softness of it soothed her.

  For an instant she thought she felt her madre’s hand on her head, stroking back her hair, but when she opened her eyes she saw the Mayan Rosa, bending over her, crooning an ancient song.

  MADISON

  She searched the room once more, but her passport and Kat’s photo were not there. The foreboding she’d felt since her arrival blossomed into full-blown fear. This was not the panic that could come upon her for no reason; this was grounded in the truth that here there was much to be afraid of. It had been foolish to come alone. Except for Verner’s staff, only the taxi driver and the old fortune-teller knew she was here. And, she realized with a shoot of hope, the owner of La Máscara and the clerk at the Molcas. But what had she been thinking not to tell Jack? It had not only been foolish; it had been inconsiderate. Surely by now he must be worried. She was ashamed to recall how angry she had been when he hadn’t called to tell her he was safe after the plane had crashed at the airport on the Cape. How she hadn’t given him a second chance.

  The room offered only a momentary and false haven, and so she forced herself to leave, to find safety with others until she could pass through the gate and escape. Outside, the sunshine, the manicured beds, the groundskeeper bending over and smoothing a stone path with his rake, all seemed surreally normal. She walked toward the long drive of gray sand that led to the gate. She quickened her steps, just short of a trot that would garner attention. As she drew close, the guard, no longer asleep, came out of the shelter, rifle slung across his chest, and stared at her. Her throat closed, and she felt the familiar sweats and palpitations that presaged an attack. Breathe, she told herself. Breathe. She turned back toward the main building. A small group of women was crossing the grounds, and she hurried to catch up and join them. Safety in numbers, she thought, even as she realized this was only another fake refuge. If she was truly in danger, there was no sanctuary on these grounds. And if Verner had learned that
Kat was here to investigate, her sister would be in danger, too. Her hands were trembling, and she shoved them in the deep pockets of her slacks, closed her fingers around her talisman, Olivia’s quartz heart. It no longer held the power to comfort her.

  Unlike the gathering earlier that morning when conversation surged and swelled, the noise in the dining room was muted. She found a chair at the table with the three women she had seen earlier by the pool. Act normal, she told herself. She scanned the room, enormously relieved that Verner was absent.

  “Quite the morning,” the woman sitting on her left said. Maddie recognized her from the orientation session as the one who had said that in order to be there she’d taken out a mortgage on her home. Maddie guessed her to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Her face was flawless, her neck firm. No need to seek youth. She was young. Maddie wondered what reason she could possibly have for coming here, going into debt. What was she searching for? A return to her teenage years? Jesus, she thought, the world has gone mad.

  “Yes,” Maddie said. “It was.” She was surprised to find her voice was steady. “I thought about walking into Playa, but the guard at the gate wouldn’t let me through.”

  “Oh, Dr. Verner said it wasn’t safe to leave. I guess there’s a fair amount of crime in this part of Mexico.” Her voice was guileless. “I’m Bethany, by the way.”

  “Madison,” she said. “Nice to meet you.” Too late, she remembered that she had given her name as Olivia when she’d registered. She glanced around to see if she had been overheard by any of the staff and then realized it no longer mattered. They had her passport. Verner knew her real name.

  Bethany said she had come from Houston. She introduced the other women. Ava Dawn and Lynn were from Alabama. Like Bethany, they seemed too young to have the least concern about the ravages of aging. All three were cousins. Their fathers had been brothers. Ava Dawn was divorced; Lynn and Bethany were married. “Our starter marriages,” Lynn said with a laugh. They were chatty, with the easy sociability of southern women.

 

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