The Cure

by JG Faherty

  Luckily, she’d been alone in the office at the time and she’d rushed the dog into the room she used for surgeries, telling the owner to stay in the waiting room.

  After healing the wound, she’d put a quick cast on the good-as-new leg and told the owner to keep it on for six weeks and then bring the dog back. The poor dog had probably been uncomfortable in its cast, but that was better than having an arthritic leg the rest of its life.

  “Snuggles, I think we’re going to put you down as stomach upset and fever of unknown origin.” She closed the folder and tossed it into the To Be Filed box for Chastity to take care of in the morning.

  “Time to go home. I need a hot bath and a glass of wine, not necessarily in that order.”

  Two minutes later she was pulling out of the parking lot.

  Emilio Suarez put down his binoculars and started his car while he watched Dr. Leah DeGarmo lock the door to the veterinary office. As he’d expected, Tal Nova had been very interested in his phone call. He’d also been pissed off that Emilio hadn’t gotten the woman’s name, but that had easily been rectified by watching the evening news. They’d flashed her name across the bottom of the screen while showing some reporter cornering her for a comment in front of the McDonald’s. Once he had that, he’d looked her up online and found her work address, Leah DeGarmo Veterinary Services. A little more searching had turned up her home address and phone number as well.

  Nova’s instructions had been explicit: “Follow her. I want to know everything she does, everyone she sees. Send me a report every day, and contact me immediately if anything else unusual occurs.”

  Unusual? That was a mild way of putting it, Emilio thought as he paced DeGarmo’s Toyota from two car lengths behind. The fuckin’ broad cured a bullet wound to the chest just by touching the guy. She was like some modern Jesus, a thought that made Emilio more than a little nervous. A talent like that would sure come in handy, especially for someone like Nova, whose business sometimes dipped into dangerous territory. But the talent also went against the teachings of the Church, and that was dangerous too.

  The only problem was how to stay close enough to see if she cured anyone else, without being seen himself. For all he knew, it might have been a one-time fluke.

  If that was the case, Nova would be very unhappy with him.

  And you didn’t want to make Tal Nova unhappy.

  Chapter Two

  The light on Leah’s answering machine—the same one she’d had since college—was blinking a rapid, irregular pattern when she walked through the door, indicating she had multiple messages. She pressed the button, hoping it wasn’t more requests from the press for interviews. They’d called the office five times while she’d been tending to her patients.

  BEEP.

  “You have six messages. Message one.”

  “Hello, Leah DeGarmo? This is Don Oberfeld from Channel 9 News, and—”

  Leah hit the Delete button. The next two calls were from other television stations. The fourth one, however, caught her attention.

  “Leah? It’s John Carrera. Wow, I didn’t realize anyone still used answering machines. Um, I looked up your number in the book. I didn’t want to call you at work. You said you’d explain everything. I’d really like to get that explanation. Call me, I’ll be up late.”

  “Shit.” In all the craziness after she returned to work, she’d forgotten about her promise to the police officer she’d Cured. She glanced at the small clock in the machine’s window. Almost ten thirty. The last thing she wanted to do was spend several hours trying to explain something she didn’t even understand herself.

  I can’t leave him hanging, though.

  She played the message again to get his number and then dialed. She half hoped she’d get his voice mail, but he answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  A shiver ran through her at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t expected a return of the feelings she’d had when she’d seen him in line.

  He sounds as good as he looks. He—

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Uh, sorry. It’s Leah, Leah DeGarmo. I, um, I got your message and, um…” She froze as she realized she was starting to sound like an idiot. Luckily, he rescued her before the pause grew too obvious.

  “Leah? Christ, I’ve been waiting all night for you to call!”

  “Sorry. I went back to work after…you know. And it was a madhouse. I just got home.”

  “You went back to work after being involved in a shooting? Jesus. Even cops have to take time off after something like what we went through today.”

  “Well, I’m a doctor, not a cop. Sick animals don’t care if I’ve had a bad day. They need me.”

  “A bad day?” He laughed a deep chuckle that was somehow masculine and sensual at the same time. “That’s putting it mildly. Listen, can we meet somewhere? I’ve been going crazy here. I need to know how—”

  “Not tonight,” she interrupted. “I’m tired, and cranky, and desperate for a shower.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry I pushed you. It’s just…well, you can imagine how I’m feeling. How about tomorrow after work? There’s a diner near my house. We can meet for coffee or something.”

  A public meeting was the worst possible idea. She’d never told anyone what she could do, not even her parents, although she suspected they’d figured out at least some of it. Especially after…

  “Leah?”

  John’s voice brought her back to the present. A diner was out. There was no way to tell how he’d react. Or who might overhear.

  “I’ve got a better idea. Come to my office tomorrow evening. Around eight. Everyone will be gone by then.”

  “I’ll be there. And thanks.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

  Christ, what do I do now? Her stomach was in knots.

  She decided to forego the wine and head directly for the shower. Hopefully that will relax me so I can think about this with a clear head. Maybe I can even come up with some kind of story without revealing what really happened.

  As the hot water beat down on her neck and shoulders, she knew she was only deluding herself by thinking she could hide the truth.

  After more than twenty-five years, someone had finally found out her secret.

  Crouched behind the neighbor’s bushes, Emilio Suarez had a perfect view of the DeGarmo woman’s house. He’d watched while she checked the machine and then made a call. Whomever she’d been talking to, she hadn’t looked happy.

  Too bad she has the damn air-conditioning on. If the windows were open I could’ve heard.

  When he saw the bathroom light go on, he decided a little closer inspection was in order. He crept across the dark lawn until he was right by the window ledge. She had the curtains drawn, but there was a small gap in the middle, just enough for him to get a few glimpses when she emerged from the shower and toweled off.

  Not bad for her age, he thought with a smile. He’d already found out she was thirty-six and single. Never married. Now he knew she was a natural blonde as well. Keeps herself in mighty fine shape.

  He admired her toned, athletic body while she blew dry her hair and brushed her teeth. Then the lights went out and he stepped away from the house again.

  A moment later the bedroom lights came on, but his view was blocked by the drawn shades. He waited until the lights went off, signaling she’d gone to bed for the night, and then stuck around another ten minutes—just to be sure—before leaving to make his first report to Tal Nova.

  On his way to his car, he thought about God and healing powers.

  And sin.

  Chapter Three

  “It’s another beautiful day, with temperatures expected to reach eighty-five. The tanning index is seven, so grab that sunscreen if you’re heading to the park or the beach.
Now here’s the latest song by—”

  With a groan, Leah reached out and shut off the alarm. In her exhaustion the night before she’d forgotten she didn’t have to be at the office until ten. She considered going back to sleep for another hour, then decided to use the time to exercise instead.

  After a quick trip to the bathroom, she pulled on her jogging shorts, sports bra and sneakers, and tied her hair into a pony tail. She had to pause for a moment at the front door while her eyes adjusted to the bright light, and then she started off down the street.

  A brisk one-mile jog brought her to Elvio’s Deli, where she got a cup of coffee and a low-fat bran muffin to go. By the time she got back home, she was drenched in sweat and starving. She took a quick shower, got dressed and then tossed some ice cubes in her coffee.

  Chilled drink and muffin in hand, she went outside to the back deck and sat down to read the paper.

  She nearly spit out her iced coffee when she saw the front page.

  “Murder and Mayhem in Downtown Rocky Point!”

  Oh no.

  Her appetite gone, Leah scanned the article to see if it mentioned her name. Sure enough, there it was, halfway down column two.

  “One witness, Leah DeGarmo, came to the aid of Officer John Carrera after he’d been shot by the gunman. DeGarmo, a veterinarian in Rocky Point, administered first aid to the downed officer before being accosted by Hibbert.”

  Hibbert? She glanced back up the page. Douglas Hibbert, age forty-two. So that was his name. She continued reading.

  “Hibbert turned his gun on Dr. DeGarmo, but Officer Carrera, who’d been saved from serious injury by his vest, wrestled the gun away from the assailant and fired at least one shot. Hibbert died on his way to the hospital. Police Chief…”

  Leah put the paper down, relief flooding her system faster than the caffeine from her coffee.

  Somehow John had managed to convince everyone he’d had on his vest. Thank God. But her name was still in the papers, and most likely on the news. She’d have to call her parents before they saw it on television. Luckily, they’d retired to Las Vegas instead of Florida, so they probably weren’t even awake yet.

  Still, it wasn’t all good news. Any half-decent investigation would show holes in the story: fingerprints, bullet trajectories, DNA…

  And then the real problems would start.

  Leah’s day ended up being a relatively easy one, a relief after the craziness of the previous afternoon and night. She’d only had to Cure one animal, a two-year-old husky with pancreatic cancer. The disease had been obvious as soon as the owner walked the dog in, visible to her as a bilious green glow on the poor animal’s abdomen. After sending the pup home healthy and happy, she’d passed the cancer along to an aged, dying cat whose owner had brought it in to have it put down.

  By the time John knocked on the door at ten to eight, she’d already finished her paperwork and reviewed her schedule for the next day.

  Leah tried not to stare as she let him in. It was the first time she’d seen him out of uniform, and the muscles of his arms and legs were displayed to good advantage by his plain blue T-shirt and jeans. It was the body of a long-distance runner or bicyclist, rather than a body builder, but the hard chest and corded arms gave evidence of some type of cross-training, perhaps swimming or boxing.

  His smile was just as charming and inviting as it had been yesterday, only today it seemed warmer, perhaps because he was out of uniform, or perhaps because of the way his left eyebrow arched up when he smiled, lending a boyish air to him.

  “Thanks for meeting me here,” she said. “I just didn’t feel comfortable discussing this in public.”

  “Don’t thank me. You’re the one doing me the favor. I should still be thanking you for saving my life, however you did it.”

  “Yeah, about that.” She sat down in one of the waiting-room chairs. Her office was too small and cluttered for a second chair, so she always spoke to her patients either in the waiting area or one of the examining rooms. “It’s not easy to explain.”

  He took a seat across from her. “It’s not easy to understand, either. Maybe I should start, tell you what I felt.”

  “That’d be great.”

  “After I was shot, all I can remember is a crushing pain in my chest.” He looked down at his hands, as if unable to meet her gaze while retelling the story. “I could see the ceiling over me, but it was all blurred. There were noises, voices, but I couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Then I felt it.”

  She knew what was coming. “An electric shock through your body.”

  He glanced up, his eyes excited. “Exactly! Like someone had touched a live wire to my chest. Then all the pain went away and I could breathe again. I saw you looking at me. I was going to say something, but that guy grabbed you, aimed his gun at you. I thought he was going to kill you right there, and then all of a sudden he just fell over.”

  “What did you say to the police when they came?” This was the most important thing. She had to know; if their stories didn’t match, sooner or later the authorities would be back to question her again.

  He gave her a rueful grin. “I didn’t know what to say, but I remembered something my grandfather used to tell me. ‘If you ain’t sure of your words, keep your trap shut.’ So I told them I was okay, I had my vest on, to take care of you and the shooter. While they were talking to you, I said I needed to go get some air, clear my head.”

  “They let you leave?” She’d never even noticed. Three officers had cornered her and kept firing questions at her.

  “Sure. I know them all, remember? I ducked into my car and put my vest on really fast. It was stupid of me not to be wearing it, but it was so damn hot yesterday. Anyhow, when it came time to write up my report, I put down that I’d been knocked unconscious for a few moments when the bullet hit me, and when I woke up you were tearing open my shirt to see if I’d been hurt.”

  “But what about the gunman being shot?”

  John shrugged, adding to the boyish look he wore so well. “I told them he and I struggled for his gun, it went off, and he fell over.”

  “And the blood on your shirt?”

  He smiled. “The gunman’s.”

  Leah shook her head. “No, the blood types won’t match. And there was the bullet in the wall—”

  “He fired and missed.”

  “And there’s going to be a hole in his chest with no bullet in it.”

  Another shrug. “I can’t explain that. That’s the coroner’s job.”

  “You really think everyone’s just going to let it go at that?”

  John’s grin grew wider. “Leah, this is a small town, not New York City. A guy tried to rob the place. He fired at a cop. He got shot. He’s dead. End of story. The blood will never be tested for DNA. That would be a waste of money. The witnesses won’t get called in for more questioning because there won’t be a trial. I’ll get a medal and some time off, the department will get some great press, and the coroner, who happens to be the police chief’s brother-in-law, will hardly glance twice at the autopsy results because everyone will want the case closed and done with.”

  “So no one’s going to be questioning me about what I did?” She couldn’t believe she’d be so lucky.

  He shook his head. “I seriously doubt it. The guy was a repeat offender with no immediate family. No one’s going to call for an investigation.”

  Leah sat back in her chair and allowed herself a sigh. All of the tension she’d been feeling seemed to drain away, leaving her as limp as if she’d just gotten a massage.

  “You can’t imagine how good that is to hear.”

  One of John’s eyebrows went up. She was beginning to realize he was a man of many facial expressions and body movements. His hands were always in motion, adding emphasis to his words. And his face was a neon sign for his feelings, switching from a
nxious to happy to confused as he spoke.

  “As good as it was to hear that I wasn’t hurt by a bullet to the chest?”

  She took the hint. “Okay, my turn.” She took a deep breath and blurted out the words she’d never said before, not even to her parents. “I did heal you. I can do that.”

  His eyes grew wide. “Holy shit. For real?”

  “Yes. I’ve been able to do it since I was a child. The first time it happened, I was nine. I was in the woods behind my house and I found this bird. It was hurt. Just lying on the ground, gasping for air. I picked it up and…it was like getting struck by lightning. The bird flew away, leaving me with a weird feeling all the way up my arms. I went home, but I didn’t tell anyone what happened. I started to feel sick later that night, so my parents called the doctor. I was on the couch, and my cat, Mrs. Puff, jumped onto me. I put my hands on her and there was another shock, and then I felt all better.”

  Leah paused and took a breath. Even after so many years—twenty-seven, to be exact—thinking about Mrs. Puff still had the power to bring tears.

  “That’s fantastic.”

  “No, it’s not. The next day, Mrs. Puff died.”

  “What?” John’s eyes grew wide.

  “The vet said it was old age. But she was only twelve. That’s not old for a cat.”

  John shook his head. “I’m not sure I under—”

  Leah spoke over him, continuing her story. She knew if she didn’t get it all out now, she might never have the courage to do it.

  “I forgot all about the incident, the way little kids will. A year later, my mom…my mother had a cancer scare. A lump in her breast. They did an x-ray, and when the report came back the doctor told her she had to come in for a biopsy. I was still just a kid, so I didn’t understand. But she was scared. I could see that. My parents arranged for me to spend the weekend at a friend’s house. Right before we left, I went to hug my mom and there was this glow, a weird green glow, around the left side of her chest. It made me feel sick and afraid just to look at it. I don’t know why, but I reached out and put my hand on her breast.”