by Vanessa Kier
Four hours later, the group had finished their collection. Lachlan wanted to acquire an intact MP3 player for sending back to WAR HQ, but there was no safe way for him to handle the undetonated devices.
Lachlan had just removed his gloves when Tony contacted him on the comm unit. Lachlan waved good-bye to the members of the team, then headed across the nearly empty field toward the admin building. In front of the building, the last of the wounded were being loaded onto ambulances and lorries.
“All of the seriously wounded have been treated and are being sent to hospital,” Tony reported. “The police have given their okay for Dr. Kirk and her team to take those with minor injuries back to her clinic. They’re free to leave any time. What do you want to do?”
Meaning, was Lachlan going to turn Dr. Kirk in for the smuggling? “Your thoughts?”
“I believe her,” Tony said. “She’s worked her arse off saving lives and hasn’t taken a single break. She even got tetchy with a few nurses who weren’t working fast enough. And… She does a good job trying to hide it, but she’s grieving. Many of the victims were people she considered friends.”
Lachlan remembered the glimpse of Dr. Kirk he’d had earlier, the sense of utter despair conveyed by her bowed head. He rubbed between his eyes. Perhaps the doctor had been telling the truth.
“Plus, she’s our best link to Natchaba right now,” Tony added.
“Aye. All right, we’ll keep our silence for the moment. I have some fragments for the lab to analyze once we’re back at HQ, so there’s nothing more for me to do. Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I STILL DON’T trust you,” MacKay announced, striding in to the headmistress’s office where Helen was working. She glanced up from the arm she was bandaging but didn’t reply, not trusting herself to answer civilly. On the heels of his aggressive interrogation, she shouldn’t have found this declaration so hurtful, but still her chest ached at the unfairness of his hostility.
Shoving aside her feelings, she tied off the bandage, then sent the teenage boy back to his waiting mother. Only after she’d disposed of the medical waste did she turn to face MacKay. “So why are you here? Are you going to arrest me? Turn me over to the authorities?” Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of being locked up, but she refused to be cowed by him.
He scowled at her. “No. You’re still needed to help the wounded. Plus, we require your assistance with locating Natchaba. However, since I’m not fully convinced of your innocence, until further notice, either Jacobs or I will be with you at all times.”
“Who are you that makes you think you have such authority?”
“Mr. MacKay and his comrade work for an organization that fights the rebels,” David said as he stepped into the room. “The chief of the regional police has just informed me that MacKay and his partner have been given permission by the president himself to assist with the investigation.”
David’s eyes were red-rimmed and the lines of sorrow on his face gave him the appearance of a man decades older than the one who’d arrived at the festival this morning. “I am to show him Kwesi’s storage space back at the village.” He glanced at MacKay. “Unfortunately, we have just received word that my brother’s office here has also been bombed.”
MacKay cursed.
Helen shook her head. Would the bad news never stop?
“We would like to use your pickup truck to transport the—” David’s voice broke on a sob “—the bodies so that we may give them proper burial.”
Helen nodded. “Of course.”
MacKay seemed as if he was going to object, then pressed his lips into a firm line.
“Are there any spare vehicles that can help me bring the wounded to my clinic?” she asked David.
He nodded. “The bus that carried the women from your health class is available. I will send it to you.”
“Thank you. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to help you.”
“I simply wish for no more of my people to die,” David said hoarsely. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
When he was out of earshot, Helen snapped, “What’s your issue with him taking the bodies home? He only wants to honor his tribe’s rituals for the dead.”
“It seems too soon for the police to have finished processing the bodies for evidence,” MacKay answered.
“I—” Helen shook her head. “That’s not something I would have ever considered.”
“Aye, well, we can hope that Natchaba and his accomplices didn’t think of that, either. Perhaps we can gather some useful data from the fragments left behind. I’ll speak to the man in charge.” MacKay walked out, leaving Helen alone.
Tired and heartbroken, she took a moment to gather her remaining strength, then set about prioritizing the patients who’d be accompanying her to the clinic.
Oh, crap. She’d forgotten all about Gloria and Ms. N’Dorah. Were they even now waiting at the clinic for her? Helen pulled her emergency cell phone out of her pack, but as usual lately, there was no signal. Since the explosions had taken out the electricity and the headmistress’s landline, she had no other way to contact her boss.
Well, she’d tried. Hopefully, someone had thought to call them. If not, there was nothing else she could do right now, so she returned her attention to deciding who was wounded enough to need treatment at her clinic.
An hour later, with MacKay sitting beside her in the SUV and Jacobs driving the bus, they pulled into the clinic’s empty driveway. Helen had been surprised that Jacobs, a Brit, drove so comfortably on their roads. Not only were most of the roads unpaved and pitted with potholes and ruts, but all the countries in West Africa, including the former British colonies, had adapted the French style of driving on the right in order to avoid traffic accidents as citizens crossed back and forth over the borders. MacKay had replied that it was a combination of experience and training.
The SUV rolled to a stop and Helen jumped out. She dashed over to the back door, relieved that there was no note or other indication that Gloria and Ms. N’Dorah had ever shown up. It only took her and Leticia a few minutes to open up all of the exam rooms and not long after they let the first patient inside, every exam room was full. “Tobo, I’m going to have to put you in the waiting room for now,” she said apologetically. Her maintenance man nodded stoically and walked down the hallway. Helen had temporarily splinted his broken arm with a couple of ledger covers from the headmistress’s office and used a shirt from a box of school uniforms as a sling. But she hadn’t been able to give him anything for the pain, having to reserve her meager supply of pain medication for patients with more serious injuries.
“Dr. Kirk, how are we going to treat all of these people with just you and me?” Leticia asked. Theodora had suffered a head injury and had been taken to the hospital. Even if she’d been present, they had almost two dozen wounded to examine.
“MacKay,” Helen called as he stepped through the back door, carrying Sisi, who’d suffered a burn on her face. The child had her arm around MacKay’s neck and was chattering happily away at him in the local language, a look of adoration on her face. Helen raised her brows. “Playing hero again?”
MacKay looked embarrassed. “Aye, well…”
Helen allowed herself a moment to enjoy his discomfort, then pointed down the hallway. “Put her in the kitchen with the other children. They can play together while we treat those with more serious injuries. Then I need you and Jacobs to serve as nurses.”
MacKay froze. Once again she saw a fleeting glimpse of some deep, raw pain before his expression smoothed out and he disappeared with Sisi into the kitchen. She frowned at his back.
“Doctor? Who shall I look at first?” Leticia asked.
Shaking off her curiosity over why MacKay had reacted so strongly to her request, she said, “Here. Let’s make a list.” Helen indicated for Leticia to follow her into the staff room and they’d soon worked up a schedule and written it on the white board. “You�
�ll work with Jacobs,” Helen said. “I’ll deal with MacKay.”
“Are you certain, doctor? Mr. MacKay doesn’t like you very much.”
Helen glanced away, feeling the pinch of betrayal again. “That’s right, he doesn’t. He believes that since I looked the other way regarding the luxury goods smuggling, that I also knew that Kwesi and Mr. Natchaba were bringing in weapons. He thinks I helped plan today’s attack.”
“That is ridiculous! You work so hard to help us. If MacKay wants someone to blame, he must instead blame the entire village. We treated Kwesi as a hero for providing steady income to the village. If instead we had paid closer attention to his activities, perhaps we would have noticed that he had become involved with bad men and dangerous cargo.” Leticia took a step toward the door. “I will explain it to him.”
Helen shook her head. “No. Thank you, but that won’t help. He’s determined to hate me. So, in order to prevent him from causing any trouble, it’s better if he assists me with my patients.”
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, doctor?” MacKay said from the doorway. Jacobs stood behind him, almost hidden by MacKay’s larger body.
“Yes,” Helen replied. “Isn’t that how you think of me? As an enemy?”
MacKay met her gaze without answering, but there was no kindness in his eyes.
“We must work,” Leticia said brightly. “Mr. Jacobs, if you will please follow me.” She walked to the door and both men moved out of her way.
Jacobs murmured something that might have been “Play nice” to MacKay before following Leticia down the hall.
An uneasy silence stretched between Helen and MacKay. Finally, she said, “Here’s our list of patients. Please scrub up and we’ll get started.” She watched his response and yes, there it was again. Pain, or maybe it was fear, flashed across MacKay’s face. “Unless that’s a problem for you, MacKay?”
He scowled. “No, doctor. No problem.”
“Perhaps you think I’m going to stab you with a scalpel or blow up the clinic?”
“No.”
“Good. Let’s get started, then.” She brushed past him on her way into the hall.
MacKay followed shortly after. Despite his inexperience and the constant, subtle tension of his body that made her think he was on the verge of bolting, he proved to be a decent assistant. He obeyed her orders without question and for the most part remained silent, unless a patient spoke specifically to him. Together they managed to work efficiently through the slowly diminishing waiting list of patients.
Four hours later, those with the most serious injuries were settled into beds for the night and Helen stood at the doorway to the clinic with MacKay, watching the final patients leave.
“G’night snake-killing man!” Sisi chirped, waving enthusiastically from her mother’s arms. Sisi’s eyes sparkled at MacKay above the bandages now covering her burns.
“I think you’ve made a conquest,” Helen commented before shutting and locking the door. Her anger at MacKay had fizzled out hours ago. It wasn’t gone, she just didn’t have the energy to maintain it.
MacKay shrugged, once again looking embarrassed at the child’s affection.
As they walked down the hall, Leticia exited the staff room. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Leticia,” Helen said. “Since it’s after midnight, Jacobs will walk you home.”
“You get some rest, doctor,” Leticia said. Then she glared at MacKay. “And you, Mr. MacKay.” She shook her finger at him. “You must apologize to Dr. Kirk. She is a good, honest woman who had nothing to do with today’s attack. Of that you can be certain. We give thanks every day that she is with us.”
MacKay’s eyebrows nearly climbed into his hairline and Jacobs stifled a smile with his hand.
“Now. Come, sir. I want sleep.” Leticia hooked her arm through Jacobs’s and led him out the back door.
“Ah. Sorry about that,” Helen said. Avoiding MacKay’s eyes, she put her dirty lab coat in the hamper, then grabbed her keys from her office.
When she reached for the doorknob of the back door, MacKay put his hand on her arm. “Wait.”
She stepped away from his touch and turned to face him. “What?”
“Ah… Leticia was correct. I owe you an apology. I—” He cleared his throat and she wondered how long it had been since he’d said he was sorry. “I let the circumstantial evidence and my anger blind me to the different story being told by your actions. You’ve worked tirelessly today, doctor. You’ve been gentle and patient, and your skills at soothing people’s fears are impressive. I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions and that I frightened you with my threatening actions. Will you forgive me?”
She sighed and studied his face. “Thank you for the apology, but…no. I’m not ready to forgive you just yet.” Her pain was still too fresh. Too deep. And his anger had been too fierce. Something dark and powerful had driven him to treat her so harshly. He’d even brought up her mother, for heaven’s sake. How could she trust that he wouldn’t act the same if something else went wrong?
“I understand,” MacKay said quietly. “I hope that some day you will change your mind.”
Helen just gave a one-shouldered shrug. While he’d said the right words, his voice conveyed such discomfort that she doubted his sincerity. More likely, he’d apologized because he figured playing nice was the best way to get her assistance with locating Mr. Natchaba. Which only illustrated how little MacKay knew about her. Of course she’d help. She didn’t need to be buttered up. She wanted the authorities to capture the person who’d ordered the attack as much as anyone. But, having been falsely accused one too many times herself, she wouldn’t automatically assume Mr. Natchaba’s guilt. He might have been framed. Still, whether he was ultimately proved to be guilty or innocent, she accepted that Mr. Natchaba needed to be investigated. The villagers deserved justice.
The grief she’d been holding back suddenly broke free and she bit her trembling lip. Today should have been a joyful day. Right now, the villagers should have been singing and dancing to the primitive pulse of drums, not planning a mass funeral. So many had died today, and for what? So those responsible could show the world that they could strike anywhere and at any time? That not even the children were safe? She’d never understand such thinking.
Tears stung her eyes and she walked away, refusing to let MacKay see her vulnerability. Instead, she jiggled the door handle to the lab, pretending that she wanted to check again that it was locked. Because they had a full house tonight, she’d decided to leave all the equipment in place in case one of her patients took a turn for the worse during the night. Sill, she’d had Leticia hide the financial files, as usual.
When she had herself under control, she returned to the door. MacKay stepped aside and gestured for her to precede him outside. “Let’s get you home, doctor. You deserve a meal and bed.”
LATE THE NEXT morning, Lachlan stared at the interior of Kwesi’s storage room. All the room contained were a few flattened cardboard boxes with the name of a shipping company printed on them. Bugger it, once again he’d hit a dead end. If Kwesi had been telling the truth about the weapons, where had they gone from here? Who had helped him?
David’s teenaged son, who’d let Lachlan into the room, shifted restlessly from foot to foot. Lachlan took pity on him and indicated that they could leave. “Thank you,” he said. “Tell your father once again that he and your family have my sympathy for your loss.”
The boy nodded. As soon as Lachlan closed and padlocked the door, the boy took off home. Lachlan wandered about the village a bit, but nothing struck him as odd. If you didn’t count the somber, oppressive mood and the wary looks people shot his way as they gathered for prayers and to prepare the bodies for burial.
The head of the investigation team had only shrugged yesterday when Lachlan questioned him about gathering evidence from the bodies. “It was some rebel faction,” the man said. “Recovering pieces of metal will not help us figure out which
one. We don’t have enough information on the rebels for that. So I won’t interfere with their burial rituals.” In fact, from the shadows in the man’s eyes, he’d probably had loved ones of his own to tend to.
After twenty minutes, Lachlan realized he was making the villagers nervous without gaining any useful information, so he returned to the clinic and let himself in the back door.
“Yes, whatever,” a woman’s voice said from Helen’s office. “I wonder if I can get a reporter to do a full article on your clinic?”
Lachlan froze.
“Gloria!” Helen scolded. “Think. You do not want a reporter here. You never know what they’ll put in their article. It might not be flattering.”
What was she most concerned about? Keeping the vandalism a secret? Or keeping reporters from digging up the scandal involving her mother?
“I— Oh. Well, perhaps you’re right,” Gloria said.
Lachlan continued to eavesdrop as the two women finished their conversation. From the choppy quality of Gloria’s speech, Lachlan figured they were talking via a mobile phone on speaker.
“Your boss has no concept of personal safety, or privacy, does she?” Tony asked.
Lachlan frowned. What was Tony doing in Helen’s office?
“Doesn’t she realize that media attention right now will only make the clinic a target of the rebels?” Tony added.
“No, Gloria tends to be focused only on the bottom line.”
“How’d she reach a position of power if she doesn’t adhere to the Foundation’s security policy?”
“Probably through personal connections,” Helen answered. “I never asked.”
“Do you think she’ll listen to your warning about the reporters? And about not rescheduling the grand opening?”