He'd finally hit rock bottom when Sori caught him outside the building, smoking.
She jerked the cigarette from his jittery hand, and stomped it out.
She fussed, “We need your nose to find this asshole. Don’t mess that up. One more box and Yala will be fine. She is strong, and if she has any kind of consciousness about what’s happening to her, I guarantee you, she is laying there fighting to figure this shit out.”
Kevin nodded his head, in agreement.
“You’re right. You’re right. Dammit. I can’t help her. I can’t make her better. She looks so helpless and so lifeless. She’s a prisoner in that box, trapped in her own body, and I can’t get her out because I can’t find the answers.”
Sori folded her arms over her chest. Her hard glare backed up her firm stance.
“You have known me for years. You know it’s difficult for me to befriend people, much less form an attachment to them. Yala is like an adopted little sister that insinuated herself into my life. I can’t figure out how she did it, but I’m glad she did. She was the first female to see past my frosty nature and find something likeable within me.”
Her forehead wrinkled in frustration.
“I need you on this, Kevin. I need you to focus. To be strong for her. You have a set of skills that can find this asshole, after we get the third box. If we don’t find him, the fucking bastard is going to keep doing this. You are one of the only people I know who can track him.”
Kevin looked at her like he’d never seen her before. She wasn’t the kind of person that asked for help. It was likely jarring for him to hear her admit she needed him, but she hoped it confirmed her confidence in him.
***
Sori’s words gave Kevin hope that they could band together and pull Yala from the grips of Death. If fighting Death was the key to getting Yala back, he’d face the entity with confidence.
Yala was the one good thing in his life—a life he’d dedicated to work.
Shrouded in death and mayhem for years as a Top agent, he had come to embrace the darkness as easily as he rejected happiness.
Yala had changed his entire outlook on life. She took his heart, filled his chest with her love, and filled his soul with her own brand of happiness—a happiness he couldn’t reject. She was an irrefutable force that made him long for things he assumed he would never have.
He was in that box with Yala, whether she knew it or not.
Kevin and Sori spent the remainder of the day interviewing doctors and nurses and tracking leads as shaky as a fat woman’s thighs. They were so relentless in their pursuit that they interviewed anyone with a pulse.
Unable to locate Dr. Nolan, the team pressed on. Half of the staff claimed he was at a medical convention and half stated he was on vacation. They’d also received conflicting answers to the question of how long it had been since they’d last seen the doctor. Some said three days, some swore it was four, and one doctor claimed it had been a week.
They drove out to Dr. Nolan’s home. Yala had spoken briefly with Mrs. Samantha Nolan, over the phone, prior to being pulled from the case. When Kevin contacted her this time, she informed them that her husband had been at a medical conference for the past couple of days and wasn’t due back for a few more.
Suspicion was Kevin’s and Sori’s anchor and they wasted no time confirming Dr. Nolan’s whereabouts. The doctor wasn’t where his wife presumed he would be—a medical conference in Chicago. The conference center representative confirmed that they didn’t have a Doctor Charles Nolan registered.
When Mrs. Nolan answered the door, Kevin was surprised to find a youthful slender brunette staring at them. She was not someone he pictured with a cheating older husband.
He stuck out his hand to greet her. “Mrs. Nolan?”
She inclined her head, “Yes,” before she shook his hand.
He and Sori flashed FBI badges, since they couldn’t possibly disclose what agency they truly belonged to.
“Would you mind if we spoke to you briefly on a matter concerning your husband?”
She shook her head and waved them into her home.
When they disclosed the news that her husband wasn’t where he should have been, Mrs. Nolan was not as upset as Kevin expected.
He sensed her lack of an emotional attachment to her husband. Mrs. Nolan didn’t love her husband, at all. She relished the fact that he wasn’t around.
When she noticed he’d likely pick up her indifference to her husband's status, she volunteered, “I am not naïve to the fact that my husband is probably cheating. My children and I live a nice pampered life. He doesn’t bother me about what I do with my time, so I don’t nag him about his.”
Her telling words had both Kevin and Sori raising their eyebrows. They hadn’t suggested that her husband was cheating because he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, but Kevin was thankful Mrs. Nolan had volunteered the information.
Kevin could taste the bitterness that she harbored for her husband. He’d researched the Nolan’s backgrounds. “I understand you attended medical school Mrs. Nolan. Why didn’t you ever go back?”
His question caused her to cast a guarded look before she answered. Sori eyed the woman with a probing glare.
“Yes. I dropped out to help tend to my mother who had breast cancer at the time. By the time I was ready to go back to school, I was married and pregnant with my daughter. I felt it best to devote my time to raising her.”
Kevin sensed that Mrs. Nolan was hiding something. She was just as disconnected when she mentioned her mother and daughter as she was when she talked about her husband. He was fishing for information and hoped she’d volunteer more. Her like of emotional attachment to her family had him wondering if she resented her family for her not finishing medical school, or did she have deeper issues? Was her husband abusive? Did she feel neglected?
When she finally expressed concern for her husband’s safety, Kevin knew her efforts were forced. Although he was sure she was hiding something, he didn't pick up an evil vive or malicious intent from the wife.
However, his suspicions remained on high alert. He asked to use the restroom and took the long way around the Nolan’s house. He found a note. Surprisingly, it wasn’t what was written on the note that got his attention; it was what the note was written on that amazed him. It was written on stationery from the Oakwood Apartment complex—the same complex the first Body Box victim lived in.
Kevin and Sori used the tech knowledge they’d acquired over their years as Top agents to their advantage. The team didn’t tell the wife about the note Kevin discovered. Instead, they asked Mrs. Nolan for her husband’s cell number and she provided it without hesitation.
If Mrs. Nolan knew what they were up to, she didn’t comment on the matter. She remained usually calm about the entire situation.
After the team left the Nolan’s residence, they used the doctor’s cell number to triangulate his phone’s signal to pick up his location. They discovered that the doctor was somewhere in DC, according to his phone. Thirty minutes was all it took to pinpoint his exact location. He wasn’t at the Oakwood Apartments, instead, he was at a ritzy hotel, downtown. He was likely laid up with an escort.
Since they couldn’t approach him until they had all of Yala back, they headed for the apartment. They sent an agent to keep watch of the ritzy hotel.
***
Kevin and Sori flashed badges and proceeded to obtain information from the front office assistant at the Oakwood Apartments. The team discovered that Dr. Nolan was a long-time tenant who rented an apartment in the complex. The assistant also revealed that a woman stopped by some days ago and inquired about the same apartment.
Was the apartment Dr. Nolan’s sin-den for the escorts he hired? Was it his work shop? Could the woman who’d inquired about the apartment have been Yala?
Concerned, the team prayed they hadn’t made waves that could send ripples that would impede their receipt of the last part of Yala. An update from the agent who h
ad eyes on Dr. Nolan ritzy hotel suite revealed he’d not left. This gave Sori and Kevin time to snoop around the doctor's apartment.
Just as they were set to walk up to the apartment, Dr. Hughes called and informed them that they'd received the third part of Yala’s box—her head. The agent watching the medical examiner's office reported that they also had a suspect in custody. A man claiming he'd been paid to deliver the box.
Kevin and Sori left an agent to watch the Oakwood Apartments. The call from Dr. Hughes sent them rushing back to the medical examiner’s office.
***
Dr. Hughes stood at the head of Yala’s body, as Sori stood at her side. Dr. Pendergast stood next to the box containing her head that sat at her feet. Kevin slumped near the camera. Everyone pretended like seeing Yala’s head sitting at her feet wasn’t the most insane thing they’d ever seen.
Dr. Pendergast swiftly moved the box, aligning it above her torso box. Kevin closed his eyes and bowed his head, in prayer, as the doctors shoved the box into place. As soon as the box hit home, Yala’s body was made whole again.
Why wasn’t she moving?
The room became as silent as Yala’s motionless body. Everyone held their breath and stood as still as marble statues. Kevin was on the verge of a brain aneurism, as he attempted to will Yala to move or express any sign of life. A muffled gasp sounded that bowed her back and lifted her chest before she took in a deep breath of air.
When her body started to convulse, the doctors opened the box to tend to her. They rolled her from the box with such speed and precision; you’d think they’d practiced the move. They proceeded to hook her up to machines.
Needles were shoved in her arms and hands, as the doctors worked swiftly from the makeshift recovery center they’d wheeled into the room. The doctors fought like soldiers to keep Yala alive. A weak heartbeat registered, but a sudden spasm of seizures sent her body into shock.
Kevin’s body seized along with Yala’s, as he proceeded to have a nervous breakdown. His body shook violently, but his glare never left Yala. He apparently had no idea how sick he looked.
Sori kept one eye on Kevin and the other eye on the doctors and Yala. At any moment, Kevin would likely keel over. Not eating, not sleeping, stressing over Yala, and overworking had been his life for the last five days. He’d lost at least ten pounds and appeared as if life had slowly been seeping from his body. His sharp breaths could be heard among the scrambling bodies and shuffling feet of the doctors.
***
When it appeared that the doctors had it all under control, an ominous sound filled the room. The sustained beep of the heart machine filled their ears. The tune signified death, a finality no one was ready or willing to accept. The screeching beep mirrored one of the tattoos Yala had etched into her side: Death.
Kevin staggered. He fell against the table and caught himself, unaware of his own despair. He was broken, crestfallen, destroyed by the sound the machine yelled, the constant elongated beep that signified Yala’s stopped heart.
The doctors didn’t give into the beep; they continued to pump Yala’s chest and inject her with medicines meant to revive her. They prepared equipment that would send jolts of electricity into her body.
When Dr. Hughes plunged a large needle into Yala’s chest, Kevin lost the use of his legs and his knees buckled. His hand slapped against the floor and kept his head from slamming onto it. The pain from the slap shot through his hands and broke through the unmerciful beep of the machine.
He forced his legs to straighten, not realizing he’d been so weak. His arms shook under the weight of his body, as he struggled to lift himself from the floor. His mind reeled as he made it back to his feet. He stood bent with his hands resting against his wobbly legs.
Why is this happening to me?
He was losing the only person who knew how to make him happy. The only one he could talk to about anything. The only one he’d revealed himself to.
She understood him and accepted him. She’d told him that she loved him, and he knew she truly meant it. He was suffering horribly for his passion. Once upon a time, he was certain his passion was his job; but once he’d found his true passion, he recognized her immediately.
The beep that continued to pierce his senses was his undoing. It was his kryptonite; and it rendered him weak and useless.
***
Sori didn’t immediately run to Kevin’s side. She gave him a chance to recover on his own. She inched closer, after viewing him slouched over the table, attempting to stand upright.
The doctors started manual CPR on Yala, one at her head and the other at her chest.
Sori closed the remaining space between her and Kevin. She placed an arm under his shoulder to help him stay upright, without taking her gaze off Yala and the doctors.
She shoved Kevin against the wall and held him there with her hip, as she watched the doctors continue to fight to save Yala. She tuned out the horrible beep, because she didn’t sense the one thing that would solidify Yala’s end…Death.
Kevin shook so deliriously, the vibrations danced through her body. She couldn’t stand seeing him like this. He was one of the best agents she knew; but in this moment, she wasn’t altogether sure he was in his right frame of mind anymore. He sensed things in people. The idea that he may have felt some of what Yala felt was likely his undoing.
Sori couldn’t stand the tortured expression that poured from his face. It was the look of a thousand blades stabbing him in the heart. She prayed she would never love someone as much as Kevin loved Yala. His actions illustrated a fate far worse than death.
Love was the most powerful mystery in the world; there was nothing else she knew of that could weaken Kevin’s resolve. She’d worked with him many times before, had witnessed him stare Death in the face, and had even challenged him.
Now, in this exam room, he reached towards the table for Yala, unconcerned about his own well-being as the horrible sound continued to wreak its havoc.
Beeeeeeeee…
Like a scene straight from the television show Dexter, Sori reached into the pocket of her cargo pants and removed a syringe. She bit the cap off with her teeth and injected Kevin in the arm. Kevin was so distraught, he didn’t feel the prick. The doctors were too busy to voice their concerns over her actions, if they had any.
Sori dragged Kevin to the couch in the small break area, three doors down. He was out. The sedative had dragged him into the underworld, where dreams and nightmares ruled.
By the time Sori made it back to the exam room, Yala was gone. The heart machine screamed the constant yell of a non-beating heart, and the two doctors stood, frozen.
Dr. Hughes glanced at his watch, prepared to call it—Yala’s time of death.
Sori yelled, “Nooo! Doctor, don’t do it! Don’t say it! Sometimes death is not the end. I’m sure you have seen people come back, even after you think they are dead. I have.
“How many people have come through this office presumed dead and have ended up walking out of here or returning to the hospital?”
Dr. Hughes didn’t have to think about the answer.
“Five.”
He considered Sori’s point as his glare traveled back and forth between her and Yala. He dropped his arm, unwilling to destroy her hope by placing a timestamp on Yala’s death. Dr. Hughes did, however, cover her lifeless body, before he cast a grief-stricken glance to both Sori and Dr. Pendergast.
The doctors stared at Sori with unreadable expressions. They likely thought she was crazy, but she didn’t care. She was sure Yala was strong enough to fight whatever force had a hold on her.
The doctors exited the exam room with their heads hung low, beaten by a case that had a life all its own.
Sori didn’t care what the doctors believed about Death. She’d had a few dates with the entity, and she knew from experience that death didn’t always represent the end. If death was the end, she would have been dead three or four times over.
Maybe if the doctors
had had the privilege of knowing Yala personally, they would be more hopeful. Yala was small and pretty, a combination that usually led to her being underestimated and counted out when it came to anything physical.
Sori knew better. She’d worked with Yala on several occasions and knew that she was tough as nails.
Sori didn’t want the doctors to pronounce Yala dead, because she refused to believe Yala had met her end. So much death and mayhem surrounded her life, she was certain she knew when Death came for someone.
Death hadn't arrived. Yala had not silently slipped away. Sori flipped back the white sheet and stared at Yala’s lifeless body.
“He hasn’t come for you, yet. If you’re somewhere lost, you need to find your way back—fast. Kevin, he loves you. I can spot it a mile away. If you don’t want to come back for yourself, please come back for him.”
Sori joined the doctors in the break room. She stared at Kevin, still out. He’d admitted to her how much he loved Yala. Given what she knew of his personality, when she heard him admit his feelings for Yala, the eye-opening surprise had left her mouth hanging wide open on the other end of that phone line.
Moments ago, she’d sensed Kevin’s grief over Yala when she touched him. His grief bounded off him in aggressive ripples and leapt into her. His grief clung so strongly, it was like a monster that chilled her to the bone. This was the first time she’d experienced anything like it—an all-consuming heartache, hell-bent on possessing Kevin’s body. He'd somehow given her a taste of what it felt like.
Sori couldn’t shake the notion that loving someone could send one into such debilitating despair. In watching Kevin, she'd learned that love could reach down into a person's essence and rip out their soul. If Kevin could bottle an ounce of the misery she's sensed, it could easily be used as a weapon against criminals.
Chapter 28
Don’t Panic!
Yala reminded herself, “Don’t Panic!”
Body Box: Adult Paranormal Romance (Supernatural Thriller) (Dark Suspense) (The Smoke & Fire Series Book 2) Page 18