Chapter 1
I awoke to light so bright and pure, the air appeared crystalline. I looked through the mahogany slats of the ventanillas straight out at the ocean. White gauze mosquito netting fluttered around the bed and windows, even though this close to the ocean, the breeze kept the insects away. I’m in paradise, I thought. I’ve died and gone to heaven. That was the same initial thought I’d had all week. Sosúa was fabulous. The Dominican Republic was fab-u-lous!
Ellen Krauss arranged all of this for me after my brush with the law last week. Not just a brush with the law, I was accused of murder. And I lost my best friend in the process. Dr. Krauss’ husband had extended family who had settled in the Dominican Republic. They offered to put me up in their rental villa for a few weeks when Auguste told them about what had happened. These were descendants of holocaust refugees, and they knew what it was to need a helping hand, particularly when you were in a foreign and unfamiliar land. Liesl and Karl Krauss were so warm and welcoming that it hardly mattered that they had only a smattering of English, and I knew little Spanish, and no German whatsoever.
“Hola, señora,” called a voice when I stumbled out of my room.
I looked around after smiling sleepily in response to the housekeeper, Gloriana. Missy wasn’t apparent yet, but her two year old son Tyler, always an earlier riser, was wandering around carrying a small, auger-shaped shell.
He held it up to me. “Graho, graho.”
“What?” I examined the shell. Tiny legs were just visible in the opening. “It’s a crab. Cangrejo. That’s right. Gloriana is going to teach you so much Spanish while we’re here, people will think you’re a native.” I smiled as I picked him up. “Let’s take him outside and let him go,” I said. “I think he’s just about choking size.” I carried Tyler out through the door and sneezed when my eyes met the strong sunlight, then we placed the shell on the outside of the railing that separated us from the beach cliff.
Inside, Gloriana brought me a plate of pineapple, mango and papaya. I held Tyler in my lap as I sat down to breakfast. He loved to share tiny bites of mango.
Missy finally emerged sleepily as well, and sat down beside us. She looked beautiful. Three solid meals a day, and regular sleep were doing wonders for her. I suspected that Gloriana was fixing her extra treats between meals too.
Missy smiled at me, and Tyler reached out his arms for her to hold him. She said, “Good morning, doc. What’s up?”
“I just got up, and Tyler was showing me the crab he found.”
Gloriana brought her a plate and a glass of juice. Missy picked it up and offered Tyler a sip before taking one of her own. “So are we still going to that kite-surfing beach today?”
“Yes. Liesl is going to be here in about an hour to pick us up to go to Cabarete.” I paused. “Just don’t get too carried away with any of the local boys. The HIV rate in the resort areas is through the roof.
Missy snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust. “Yes, mama.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to having a teenager to look out for. I know you can take care of yourself.”
When we finished breakfast, I went back to my room to put on my swimsuit and tons of sunblock. My skin had already tanned nicely thanks to my natural olive tone, and it made my blue eyes really pop. I wished Jamie could see me now. Ack. There you go again, girl. Stop it, I told myself. There’s plenty of time for that when you get back, and things return to normal. I twirled in front of the mirror to check the back view on my bikini. The weight I had lost over the past few week of stress was working for me now, too. I put a little sundress on over the suit, and gathered up my sunglasses, extra sunblock, pesos, ID and pre-paid phone. I had just finished when I heard the front door open and Tyler’s happy voice answering Liesl. I hurried into the front room, grabbing a couple of bottles of water for my tote as well.
Liesl hugged me, and said in her careful English. “Good morning, my friend. I hope you are well?”
“Yes, thank you. We are so excited to see the kite surfers today.”
She smiled. “Then shall we go?” She gestured toward the door.
Missy finished gathering up Tyler’s bag of supplies while I gathered him up. He smelled like fresh sunblock too. We followed Liesl out to her big SUV. On the few steps to the car, I sniffed the floral scented air. The air of the Dominican Republic smelled like nothing I’d ever known. It was elusive, almost undetectable, but sweet and floral at the same time. Heavenly.
Cabarete was about a thirty minute ride down the coastal road. I stared out at the road through the tint framed windshield. Lush growth took over on the sides of the road rapidly as we wove down the potholed road out of town. Brightly painted, square, concrete and palm board houses appeared in little clusters. Each small front yard was surrounded by barbed wire held by locust pole fences with green leaves and branches sprouting from their tops. I thought of my mother once telling me about my grandmother, saying that she could plant a pencil and grow an oak tree, and chuckled. I gloried in the beauty of the trees that looked like huge, bright, red-flowered versions of Georgia mimosas. They were in flamboyant red bloom with long, fuzzy, seed-pods just forming.
In Cabarete, we unloaded all of our gear and set up on the beach with chairs and umbrellas. Missy walked Tyler down to the shoreline, and was immediately surrounded by Dominican boys. I shook my head and watched them try to flirt with her in whatever language they could.
Liesl watched her as well, as we chatted. A few minutes later, I got up to find a private place to relieve myself. The beach shacks were not plumbed, and this was one part of the DR that was a little too primitive for my taste. Nevertheless, I strolled over to a thicket of the tropical trees, that I just called beach trees, since that was the only place I’d seen them. I walked a few feet in to hide myself, and was startled by a man cutting directly across my path. He was very dark-skinned. Probably Haitian I thought, and proceeded a few more feet for separation from him as well.
I fumbled in my tote for a little bit of paper to use. And everything went dark. I tried to scream, but a hand clamped over my mouth, then strong arms wrapped around me as I struggled to break free. There was some kind of fabric over my head and it was hard to breathe. I flailed around as best I could, hoping someone would notice a scuffle in the bushes and come help. But I was already being carried forward, deeper into the thicket. Little branches slapped at my face, that probably would have stung more if I hadn’t been protected by the cloth. After maybe three minutes of walking, I’m not sure that I was keeping good track in my terror, my kidnapper stopped and spoke to another man. I couldn’t understand a word. Not English, and not Spanish. Maybe French. Then the second man spoke to me in heavily accented English.
“Doctor Lane. Do not be afraid. We mean you no harm.”
Right. I thrashed around ineffectually some more, and felt a sharp stinging in my hip.
***
I awoke slowly, first noticing the bouncing of a vehicle, and then my cotton mouth. I opened my eyes and I could see a little light. If I moved just right, I could see little bits of things through the coarse weave of the cloth that was still over my head. I was seated with my back against the wall or a side of some kind of truck. My hands were free, and my tote was still slung over my shoulder, although how it had survived, I had no idea. I sat still and listened for a few minutes, but I couldn’t tell if anyone else was nearby. I reached up and was able to pull the cloth right off of my head. It looked like a really coarse, ratty pillowcase.
I looked around, but didn’t see anyone. There was a canvas tarp covering the top of the truck bed, but I had my little compartment to myself. The first thing I did was reach into my tote hoping that my water was still there. I was desperately thirsty. Yes, it was. I silently cheered, and then guzzled the bottle. There was a cuff and a chain connecting my ankle to the sidewall, but I was otherwise unrestrained. They clearly didn’t think there was much I could do to escape or get help. They were probably right.
> I could see where the light was leaking around the edges of the tarp, and slid over to look out. The tarp was bound down to the sides pretty tightly, but I could get it up just enough to peep through. It looked like late evening. I must have been out for a long time. I wondered if we’d ridden for all of those hours. We were back in a town, but I didn’t recognize it. We passed a little hospital on the right, so it must be a biggish town. The truck slowed to a stop.
I heard the doors slam on the truck and the men conversing. Were we at our destination? One of the men, I thought the one that had spoken English to me, walked back toward my side of the truck. I snatched the pillowcase back over my head and slouched down, but he didn’t open the back. He spoke with someone for a few more minutes, none of it in Spanish or English, and then got back into the truck. We started rolling forward again, and I crept back over to peek out. There were soldiers out there. What in the world? We passed under a green scrolled metal archway, and then over a river. The ride got noticeably bumpier after that, but the town looked even more crowded. There were people, civilians this time, standing on the sidewalk right at the edge of the road. I shouted, but either the diesel of the engine drowned out my voice, or the people didn’t care. The town smelled different than before, and the people looked different. Panic threatened to overwhelm me. Toto we’re not in Kansas anymore, I said to myself. I had arrived in Haiti.
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Excerpt from DEAD WRONG
Treating Murder: Book One of the Veronica Lane, M.D. series (medical thriller) Page 27