Tear Me Apart

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Tear Me Apart Page 22

by J. T. Ellison


  “Then we won’t talk about the things she’s been eating since she’s been in here,” Juliet says. “I will cop to handing over another box of Hot Tamales the other day.”

  Zack has gone oddly quiet. Juliet notices.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shakes himself like he’s coming awake. Maybe for the first time in years, he is, she thinks.

  “Oh. It’s nothing. Milky Ways are my favorite candy, too. What else does she love?”

  “Dogs, for one. She’s going to go mad for Kat. Sunflower seeds. She eats them from the bag like a baseball player, putting in a handful and spitting out the shells. Avocados, she puts them on everything. She hates watermelon, though. We can’t figure that one out.”

  He looks stunned. “Vivian was allergic to watermelon.”

  “I suppose that answers that.”

  “What else?”

  “She writes poetry, but won’t show anyone. And skiing. You should see her on the slopes. That kid and her fall line. It’s incredible. It’s her one true love.”

  “I’d like to see that. I’d like to talk to her. I...you’ve done such a good job with her, I can tell.” His voice cracks.

  “Except for this. The cancer. I don’t know where it came from, or why. Does it run in your family?”

  “Yes. My mother had breast cancer. She died...” His eyes are filming over with tears. “She died right before Vivian... When the baby was born.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lauren says. “It’s hard to lose your parents.”

  Juliet’s phone rings, startling them all.

  45

  Juliet sees the matching looks of hope and fear on her sister’s and Zack’s faces and turns her back on them to answer the phone.

  “It’s Cameron. I came across something you might want to hear.”

  “I’m all ears. Hang on.” To Zack and Lauren, whose eyes are following her every move, she shakes her head. “This is business. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She returns to the call. “Talk to me, Cam. You have the results?”

  “Not yet. It’s running now. Here’s what I called about. Castillo had a partner.”

  “What?”

  “I managed to track down the woman your sister mentioned, Graciela Flores? She lives in Alamosa, and agreed to talk to me when I told her we were looking at all the patients Dr. Castillo had worked with, and by worked, I mean that loosely. Long story short, she told me Castillo had a partner, a man who delivered the money. It was an installment plan—you got the first $2000 up front, and the second $2000 a few weeks later, after delivery, and once the baby was placed.”

  “Four thousand? Lauren said she paid ten.”

  “Tidy profit, $6000 a kid, right?”

  “Definitely. What’s this partner’s name?”

  “Carlos Fuentes. According to the papers, he’s currently doing a nickel in Englewood Federal Correctional for mail fraud.”

  “No kidding? That’s convenient.”

  “Totally. Listen, Juliet. I think it’s time to push this up the chain, you know?”

  “I do know, and you’re right. I’ve already spoken to the Nashville police, and they’ll probably be here tomorrow. As soon as we have the results from the test, see whether Zack is enough of a match, God willing, and get the ball rolling here for the transplant, I’ll turn my attention to the criminal side of this case. You can retire your investigative hat, Cam. I can’t thank you enough for all your help on this.”

  “You’ll repay me. Maybe I’ll entice you away from the CBI one of these days.”

  “I won’t say no, how’s that? I’ll be in touch.”

  She clicks off, thinking for a moment. He’s right. It’s time.

  To Zack and Lauren, who are waiting impatiently, “More news, some new info on Dr. Castillo. Lauren, do you remember her having a partner named Carlos? Carlos Fuentes?”

  “No, I don’t. I only ever spoke with her. Who’s this Carlos person?”

  “Sounds like the bagman. He ran the money to the mothers she helped.”

  “This is all so convoluted.” Lauren touches her forehead as if a small headache has started. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to go back to Mindy now. I’m feeling a bit light-headed myself. Let’s hope I don’t come down with this bug, too. Zack, you and Juliet are welcome to stay with us. She has a key. Why don’t you go there, drop your bags, and grab some dinner? I’m sure Kat needs to be fed as well. Give us a few hours to kick this nasty bug.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to impose. I can get a hotel room.”

  “I insist. Jasper will be home soon if he’s not there already. I told him not to come here because of the bug going around. He’ll get you settled in.”

  “Don’t bother fighting her, Zack. Lauren is the consummate cruise director. I’m a little beat myself, it’s been a long day, and we have no idea when Mindy might wake up. Let’s get some food and rest, what do you say?”

  He still doesn’t move.

  “I understand the urge to watch her sleep, and to be near her,” Lauren says. “I understand completely. But trust me when I say you don’t need your first interaction with her to be on the wrong end of a green bag. It’s not pretty, and it will stress you both out. Go. I’ll call if there are any changes.”

  Juliet tugs on Zack’s arm. Kat stands up, head cocked to one side. A flow of nurses parade past, sparing them barely a glance; it is time for a shift change, she knows from experience this means all kinds of chaos while the new shift gets up to speed on the day’s goings-on among their patients. Then it’s meds, and vitals, and other annoyances. Even if Mindy isn’t asleep, there will be a lot of interruptions.

  “We’re going to be in the way for a while, Zack. Let’s go.”

  With a last glance at the sleeping form inside the white-and-yellow room, he nods.

  46

  THE WRIGHTS’ HOUSE

  Zack’s first impression of the Wrights’ house is big. They aren’t hurting in the financial department. The place looks like a ski lodge or a spread from a high-end mountain house magazine. In the dark of the night, warm lights line the drive and spill from the windows. He can only imagine the view in the daylight; the ride up the mountain has several hairpin switchbacks, and he feels as if they are on top of the world. Kat leans her head on his shoulder. He feels the soft fur of her muzzle against his ear and is glad he isn’t alone.

  Seeing Violet—no, Mindy, he needs to get used to calling her that, because it will be hard enough for her to have all these changes, and really, the Violet he’s always imagined is dead now, replaced by this unknown waif, lying in the bed, so small, so sick—he feels a natural compassion, and has shoved away the rest of his feelings. He has no idea where the next few days are going to take him, and he wants to keep himself on an even keel. As much as possible, that is. Kat serves this purpose well. Her job is to keep him from diving off the end of the ship. She can ascertain his moods, knows when the memories are overwhelming him, when he is about to fall apart.

  They are good together. Kat failed out of service school for being too frisky, not serious enough, as her trainer said. The trainer in question being his old Army buddy Chad Mishin, who now runs a charity that trains animals for both retired service members and autistic and spectrum children. Zack was there for a weekend retreat with Chad and a few others from his old platoon, on the grounds of Chad’s farm in Southern Kentucky, just below Bowling Green.

  They were getting the tour, Chad explaining how things worked in the service world. “The dogs need to have a certain temperament. For example, see the little Malinois bitch by the fence post? She’s much too silly to work for us. We need more serious dogs. Ones with a little gravitas.”

  Zack watched the large puppy gamboling around and felt a huge smile break out on his face. She’d found a mole an
d was happily digging it up, throwing it in the air, and chasing it down, but gently. Playing, not hurting.

  “Looks like she’s being a dog to me,” he said, laughing at her antics.

  “She’s a big goofball, is what she is. Showing off because she knows we’re watching. Too much personality can be a problem, just as too little won’t work, either. You gotta have the exact right temperament to work with kids or soldiers who are hurting. We’re going to list her for regular adoption. She’s purebred. I can get a pretty penny for her.”

  “I’ll take her,” Zack said before the words even registered in his brain.

  “You kidding?”

  “I’m not. This is the most I’ve laughed in years. Maybe a goofball dog is just what I need.”

  It turned out she wasn’t as much of a goofball as they all thought. Kat grew into a wonderful companion, serious when necessary, but also happy and loving and always there for Zack when he needed bolstering, or when the bad dreams got out of control. Being betrayed, shot, and left for dead in an Afghan warehouse, then finding your wife murdered on the kitchen floor and your child kidnapped did that to a man.

  Since Kat was already registered as a service animal, she came with all the attendant paperwork. Zack tried to give it all back, but his friend said, “Naw, you keep it. You may want to travel with her or take her places most dogs won’t be able to go. Besides, Zack, I think this is a good call. I might have suggested it myself, had I known the state of your sorry ass. You’re looking kinda rough, pal.”

  He debated punching his friend in the nose, but instead gathered up Kat’s things and drove her to his house in Nashville without a glance back. That was four years ago, and since, he’s only used the Service Dog signage one other time until today. He is grateful as hell he has her with him now, though. He feels unsteady and off-balance, and she knows it. She nuzzles him and licks his nose, her black mask looking serious, for once. She always anticipates when he is about to go off the edge.

  “Is Jasper going to have a problem with Kat?”

  “Oh, no. They had a dog when Mindy was little, and when she passed away, they didn’t get another because of the travel schedule. They didn’t think it was fair to board a dog all the time, especially on the extended trips to Europe and Canada. Mindy begged and pleaded, but they held firm. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a dog in the house again.”

  She brakes in front of the garage. “Go ahead and take her out. I think Jasper is home, I saw a shadow moving in the kitchen. I’ll just run in and give him a heads-up. Come on up whenever you’re ready.”

  “Is this a very bad idea?”

  “No, it’s not. I promise. We’re all going to be one happy family, you just watch.”

  A family. Is that what this is going to be?

  Honestly, he hasn’t thought this through at all. The shock of finding out about Violet—Mindy—God, he doesn’t even know what to call her. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he wants this, so much, so badly, so viscerally, that he can hardly breathe.

  If she is his, though, what will he do? Take her home to Nashville with him, like he did Kat? Move to Colorado to be with her? Let her continue living with Jasper and Lauren? Will he get custody, will they switch weekends?

  Technically, legally, if she is his, what are his rights? What are theirs? And what kind of asshole is he for even thinking about all of this?

  Forcing away the sudden spurt of anxiety, he guides Kat to the edge of the driveway. She happily sniffs around the rocks. There is still snowpack here from a recent storm, fresh and untouched down the hill except for a series of black dots near the scrub oak, breaks in the snow he assumes are from deer walking through. He is glad it is still too cold for snakes. Kat loves anything that moves, but snakes are a personal favorite, and he knows the poisonous ones rule these large hills.

  Kat does her business, then glues herself to his side, looking up at the house as if she, too, feels like she is about to walk into a den of vipers.

  A door opens, and Juliet comes out onto the front deck. He smells roasting meat, hamburgers, and she shouts, “What’s taking so long? Come on in. Jasper knew we had to skip dinner. He threw a few burgers on the grill. Are you hungry?”

  “I am,” he calls, and with a deep breath, heads up the stairs to the front door.

  47

  Jasper Wright looks every inch the weekend lawyer, from his pressed chinos to his white button-down polo to the floppy mass of sandy hair on his head. He shakes Zack’s hand with restrained warmth, gracious of him, considering, and invites him to have a seat at the table.

  “Beer? Wine? And how do you like your burger?”

  “Beer’s fine, thanks. Well done on the meat, please.”

  “Huh, that’s how Mindy likes it,” Juliet says. “We’ve been playing a strange game this evening, Jasper, matching up some of the things Zack likes to what Mindy does, too.”

  “Yeah? That’s cool.” He plunks two bottles of Heineken on the table, sits in a chair opposite Zack. Takes a pull from his beer. “This is weird for me, man, and I know it is for you, too. I’ve thought Mindy’s biological dad was dead all these years, and Lauren never disabused me of the notion. I guess we’re going to have to muddle through this together, okay?”

  He clinks Zack’s bottle with his own and goes to flip the burgers. Juliet beams at Jasper’s back, then at Zack, tips her bottle his direction. See? her looks says. One big happy hamburger-grilling monster-alpine-house-living beer-drinking family.

  Everyone is treating him like the crazy neighbor down the street, solicitous and kind to the point of stifling. He can’t help but wonder, Don’t these people ever lose their tempers? Do they walk around oozing kindness from their pores to everyone they meet, strangers and friends alike? Are they really this genuine?

  He doesn’t trust them, he realizes with a start. He’s gone along on this far-fetched trip on the basis of a couple of photographs and some coincidences, hoping he’s found his lost daughter, hoping there will be answers to the questions that haunt him. They could be anyone. This could be a massive setup. Have his long-honed instincts failed him completely? This is too much for one day. Too much.

  A wave of panic passes through him, and he feels suddenly odd, light-headed and achy.

  “You okay?” Juliet asks. “You must be tired. I know I am.”

  For a moment, he thinks he might be ill. Have they drugged me? Was there something in the beer?

  “Bathroom?”

  “Oh, sure. Down the hall and to the right. First door.”

  He shuts the door and runs some cold water, splashes it on his face. It makes him feel better, but he still feels ill, like something is wrong. His stomach twists. Has he caught the stomach flu from the hospital? Would it show itself so quickly? Zack isn’t the get sick type; he has a strong constitution bolstered by healthy living and exercise. He can’t remember the last time he’s come down with something worse than a winter cold.

  He can hear their voices from the kitchen, muffled, speaking low. He cracks open the door.

  “—typical Lauren, right?” Juliet’s voice is clearer than Jasper’s.

  “She’s the world’s softest touch.” This is said with sadness and something else, a hint of love, maybe, or confusion.

  “You’re being a champ about all of this.”

  “What choice do I have? I just want Mindy well, J. I’ll deal with the emotions and the hurt of Lauren’s lies later. It’s just...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. This feels wrong. It’s all happening so fast. It almost feels like Lauren led us right to Armstrong. Do you think she meant for me to find his name? If I hadn’t, do you think she would have told us at all?”

  “I think if Mindy got much worse, yes, she would have. I hope, at least. I can’t imagine her letting Mindy decline further without doing something. Besides
, I ran the blood work and found the cold case. It was going to happen regardless.”

  “But why didn’t she tell us the truth the moment we knew Mindy needed a transplant? She had to know none of us would be a match, and we’d need to go outside.”

  “I asked her the same thing. She said she didn’t realize how it all worked, that the science was confusing. She thought her blood would be enough.”

  Juliet sounds contemplative. Zack can imagine her sitting there, her head tilted to the side, tapping her fingers along the shaft of the bottle, thinking.

  “She says this to her DNA tech sister? God, how naïve is she? Or is she just in denial?”

  “I vote for denial. But she never was the scientific type. Even when we were kids, her head was always in the clouds.” Bemusement now, and Zack thinks about what they’ve said, and he too finds it odd.

  He also realizes he isn’t going to die. The strange feeling, while not gone, hasn’t worsened. Not poisoned, then, or the flu. Exceptionally tired, and overwrought, definitely. Maybe he should get out there before they think he’s wandering the house, looking in drawers.

  He flushes and makes some extra noise coming back down the hall, to give them a moment.

  “Altitude get you?” Jasper asks. He is slicing tomatoes casually as if they haven’t just been discussing life and death and lies.

  “Altitude,” Zack groans. “Yes, that’s it exactly.” He remembers now the horrible feeling of crushing panic and sick stomach he got in the Hindu Kush mountains, high above Afghanistan. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been up this high. I totally forgot what it felt like.”

  “Water and ibuprofen,” Juliet says, digging in her purse. “I have some here. It will help.” She hands him the pills and pours a glass of water. “Drink it all, and let’s get another couple in you as fast as we can. You’re dehydrated, and you’ll go downhill quickly if we don’t get plenty of water and painkillers in you.”

  He lets her mother him, lets her cluck and fuss. It feels nice to have someone care, even if that someone is tangentially attached to the worst memories of his life.

 

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