“Are you una loca? Every time we do, something scary happens.”
“We can do it from afar.”
The waiter came and picked up the bottle of Pinot Grigio from the ice bucket, wiped the dampness off the bottle, and refreshed their wine glasses.
When they were alone, Luis remained silent. Finally he spoke. “I do want to do more research.” His hands were flat on the table and he raised them just inches, keeping his wrists firmly planted in front of him. “Wait. I want to do more research, but quietly.”
“Quietly. I can be quiet.” Then she said: “Quietly?”
“I'll do my research and not share my findings with anyone from Pavnor. If things begin to look too murky, I'll turn everything over to the police and let them finish the digging.”
“Oh that'll go far.” She wore her most cynical expression to go along with her statement.
Chapter 85
Elia woke with a start and reached over to touch Luis. Like a blind person, she moved her hand up and down where his body should have been. He wasn't there. She squinted at the bedside clock. The time stared her in the face: 3:10 a.m. She climbed out of bed and padded into the living room. Luis was hunched over his laptop, the computer's glow the only light in the room. He must have been engrossed in what he was reading because she startled him when she touched his shoulder.
“Honey, don't sneak up on people like that.”
“Now who do you think it could have been?” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“I couldn't sleep. Had to get to it.”
“It?”
“Research. You're right. We can't stop.”
“I'm so glad to hear you say that.”
“Do you have the feeling no one cares?”
“I do.”
He turned from the computer to better see her. “We don't know how the investigation is going with Vicente; we don't know what's going on with Aaron's accident investigation.” He turned toward the computer. “But I can sit here and do some of my own research.”
“What are you reading there?” Elia nodded toward the screen.
“Drug production in China. There's a mountain of articles about problems in the Chinese plants.” He tapped the screen. “I'm reading about contamination in this article.” He turned back to Elia. “I'd like to know who at Pavnor gave the okay to go to China.”
“And why we weren't told about China at the meeting with Millen and Archer.”
Luis nodded. “Who wanted to keep it quiet?”
“And why?” Elia added.
Elia left Luis at the computer and crawled back into bed. Three hours later she stretched and felt Luis beside her. She slipped quietly out of bed and walked silently into the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and dressed in running clothes. Luis had not stirred as she stole out of the suite.
The hotel lobby was quiet as she pushed open the heavy door to head for a run on the beach. The sun was still below the horizon. She reached the beach and decided to run east to better see the imminent sunrise. The farther she ran, the less developed the island. In the distance was the Ocean Course and clubhouse, but she couldn't see them yet in dawn's light.
She loved early morning runs. But she slowly slackened her pace to a walk. Then she stood completely still.
Breaking through the silence of the morning was a motor. She cocked her head. Then she saw it.
Coming from the direction of the Ocean Course was a vehicle, a truck maybe. Its headlights were out, but she could make out its shape. The rising sun shone in her eyes as she tried to see more.
An eerie feeling came over her as she looked to the ocean and then to her left toward the dunes. There were no homes in this area. She was completely alone — except for the truck. It wasn't traveling fast.
Elia willed herself to calm down. The truck sped up. The driver turned on the headlights and high beams and raced in Elia's direction. She moved closer to the water to give the truck plenty of room on the hard sand.
The truck headed straight at Elia. She ran into shallow water and scattered the sandpipers scrounging for food. They flew off as the truck roared past within inches of Elia. Its left back tire spit out wet sand as it screamed away.
Elia put her hand to her heart and took some deep breaths. She heard a sound behind her and saw the truck making a u-turn.
“Oh my god!” She looked at the ocean, then at the dunes. She made her decision. She raced across the wide beach and scrambled up the dunes just as the truck came barreling toward her. It looked as though it were going to try to cross the dunes. It nosed into the soft sand and stopped. It backed out and raced east. By now the sun was up and the truck was more visible. But Elia was racing away through the brush and did not see that it wasn't a truck after all.
She ran down a path away from the dunes and then stopped gasping for breath. She stepped off the path into the woods and bent from the waist and gagged with dry heaves. She spotted a fallen tree trunk and sat down to catch her breath. She hadn't thought about hiding, but when she heard a car coming down the road from the east, she tried to make herself invisible. She pulled up her shoulders as if she were a turtle. As it was, the thick foliage camouflaged her.
The car was going slowly. The fact that it was just a car relieved her anxiety. She was about to stand and continue on her way back to the hotel when she caught a glimpse of the driver as it turned in the direction of The Sanctuary.
She stayed hidden for at least twenty minutes, hoping Jacob Riser was no longer prowling the island.
Chapter 86
Lorraine Fegan was getting tired. “Why me? Why does everything happen to me?” She was in her bedroom with a suitcase thrown open on the bed. She folded her clothes with the precision of a drill sergeant and packed them neatly guaranteeing no wrinkles when she reached her destination.
“Why the hell do I have to take care of everything?” Her teeth were clenched as she reached for her Riesling and drained the glass. She raised her arm and was about to throw her empty wine glass against the wall. She stopped herself in mid throw, looked at the $300 cut glass in her hand, and lowered her arm. She filled her glass from the bottle on her bedside table and took a large swallow.
She laid black pants and a long sleeved white silk blouse on her bed and carefully placed tissue paper between the folds.
She opened a drawer in her bedside table and felt to the back and retrieved a key on a tiny chain. In her closet on the far wall hidden by hanging clothes was a small door, the size of a medicine cabinet. She pushed clothes aside and unlocked the cabinet. Inside were drugs arranged in alphabetical order. She drummed her fingers lightly on the door as she perused the selection, as though she were deciding on which outfit to wear. Her hand landed on the D section. She palmed a small bottle and quietly closed and locked the cabinet. She tucked the bottle into her carry-on bag.
“Why the hell do I have to take care of everything?” She would repeat that phrase many times as she went about taking care of Pavnor business — and her own.
Chapter 87
Elia made her way back to the hotel keeping to paths and away from the road. She entered The Sanctuary through a side entrance and walked down the long corridor past high-end shops, not yet open for the day. Before stepping into the lobby, she peeked around the corner looking for Riser. She hurried across the lobby, ducked under the wide staircase, and reached the elevator. She watched numbers light up as the elevator raced to the first floor. The car stopped on two. For a moment Elia didn't think of a consequence, but when it started descending again her heart dropped as fast as the car. Color drained from her face. She was looking around for a corner to hide in when the doors opened.
Two people dressed for a run stepped off the elevator, nodded to her, and walked toward the door leading to the beach.
She patted her heart, stepped into the elevator and rode up to her floor. She tried to slow her breathing.
“What the
hell were you thinking?” He burst onto the deck and roared at his wife. His face was red and his veins looked ready to burst. She whirled away from the view of the ocean, her eyes wide with surprise and fear at the anger in her husband's voice. He reached her in seconds and grabbed her arms. “What the hell were you doing on the beach?”
She cowered thinking he would hit her. But then she stiffened. She freed herself from his grasp rubbing her arms where his hands had been. She leaned away from him, her back hitting the railing, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How dare you speak to me that way.” She spoke in low tones, a contrast to his roar. She looked at her husband with contempt. “You're a loser.”
Jacob Riser went slack, like a deflated balloon. “Bonnie, what's going on?” He almost whispered the question.
She looked past him into the house and swept her arm toward the house and then out toward the ocean. “Do you think we could afford this house and the place in town on what you bring home?” She paused but a second. “Our trips? Our cars? My jewelry?”
He frowned in confusion.
“Sure, frown. I'm the one who pays the bills, so I'm the one who knows how much money we have — or don't have. I'm the one who knows when we need more money. I'm the one who invests our money. I'm the one who makes the money. Not you.”
“I know about our investments.” He sounded like a kid protesting.
“You know about your investments; but you don't know about mine.”
“Why don't you tell me?” He lowered himself into a chair; she remained standing with her back to the ocean. “And why don't you tell me why you were trying to run down that woman on the beach?”
She sneered at him with hate-filled eyes. “Someone has to do something.”
Her comments seemed to deflate him even more. “What's going on, Bonnie?”
She turned from him and looked out toward the beach. “You saw me out there?” She said it quietly. Her anger, too, had dissipated.
“I did.” Riser followed her gaze. “Why?” He stood and leaned on the railing beside his wife and looked at her.
“You don't know what's going on? You don't care?” She sounded incredulous. “Jake, wake up.” She said it through clenched teeth. “You don't want to know.” She shook her head in dismissal.
“Know what?”
“The damn drug, you moron.” She clenched the railing. “You're a damn moron.”
“And you're a shrew. Now tell me what's so damn important that you have to run down that woman.”
She shrugged. “All right.” She sang it in that annoying way. “Maybe you should know. But you're not going to like it.”
Chapter 88
Luis was still sleeping when Elia let herself into the suite. She stole into the bathroom and took a long hot shower. Wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her wet head, she got into bed and snuggled up to Luis as if he were her security blanket.
As she lay there listening to Luis's even breathing, she felt herself getting angry. First she was angry with the people who were trying to frighten her, then she became angrier at herself for letting those people succeed. A guilty wave passed over her as she thought about Vicente and Angel and Aaron.
She lay there getting herself more upset as she thought of the past two weeks. My wedding. What memories. Still snuggled up to Luis, she kissed him softly on his shoulder. She smiled. When he sleeps, he sleeps. Well I can't. She slipped out of bed, dressed, and tiptoed into the sitting room and out onto the balcony. She looked toward the east and thought about the truck. How did Riser get rid of the truck so fast and into the car? She wondered where their house was in relation to The Sanctuary and made a mental note to find out.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He had his hands on his wife's shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Madre Mia! You could have been killed.” He pulled her to his chest. “Jesus! Elia you're una loca!”
Elia ignored his outburst and continued with her story. “He got rid of his truck and came looking for me on the road.” She frowned. “I can't figure out how he did that so fast.”
“Why didn't you wake me up when you got home?”
He reached out and caught her hand. “Come here.” His dark eyes bored into her emerald greens. “No more early morning runs alone.” He wrapped her in his arms. “No more.”
Chapter 89
“Here's part of the problem.” Luis and Elia were sipping their coffee on the patio of the Jasmine Porch. Their waitress had just filled their cups, put the carafe on the table, and departed quietly.
“Bleeding.” He said it and stopped. He was looking out at the ocean.
Elia put her hand on his arm. “Luis? Bleeding? We know there's bleeding.”
“Yes, but why now? If this is the same drug from before, and bleeding wasn't the problem then, why now?”
“Maybe it's not the same drug after all. Maybe we're all wet.”
Luis bit into a pineapple-filled pastry then looked at it as if he were surprised he had even picked it up.
“Luis? Are you here?” Elia dipped her head to get him to look at her.
“Look at this pastry. I bet they bake them right here in their kitchen. But even if they didn't.” He picked up a strawberry-filled one and took a bite. “I don't taste any pineapple in this one.”
Elia looked at both pastries, both now with teeth marks. She held out her hands and wore a “What are you talking about?” expression.
“And do you know why?”
“Why you don't taste any pineapple? Luis! What are you talking about?”
“I don't taste any pineapple in the strawberry pastry because the kitchens here have strict guidelines.” He took another bite. “Remember the peanut scare traced to the plant in Georgia?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Unsafe practices made a lot of people sick all over the country and even killed some.”
“Are you saying the drug was made in unsanitary conditions?” She frowned. “Pavnor? Unsanitary?”
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?” Elia looked impatient. “Luis, quit talking in riddles. What are you saying?”
“Yes, Pavnor is responsible, but the drug isn't processed there, remember. It's made in China.”
“Of course.” Elia snapped her fingers. “They don't have the same standards we have here in the States.” She looked at both teeth-marked pastries. “But what's new here? We already knew about China.”
Luis ran his finger over the rim of his coffee cup. “That's what I was looking for last night.” He pushed his cup out of his way, laid his hands on the table, and drummed his fingers.
“And?” Elia leaned across the table and put her hands over the drummer's.
His fingers stopped drumming. “And I wondered why patients were hemorrhaging.”
“And Vicente?”
“No. We know why he hemorrhaged; he was given a lethal dose of heparin.” He retrieved his hands and played a few beats. “But Vicente's death put me on this track. Heparin.”
“Patients are given heparin along with Cyptolis?”
“Think of these pastries. Strawberry is strawberry; pineapple is pineapple.”
“Yes?” She drew out the word and waited for an explanation.
“Strict standards here.” But Cyptolis is produced in China.” He reached for the carafe and poured himself hot coffee. “Want some?” She shook her head. He picked up the pineapple pastry and took another bite.” He held it out for her to taste.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” She leaned back in her chair and stared at him.
“Think Georgia peanuts. Think contamination. Think bleeding. Think heparin.”
“Ah. Cyptolis and heparin are made in the same facility. Of course. I remember reading about contamination in a Chinese company that produced heparin.” She frowned. “And Vicente knew why the patients were hemorrhaging, and he planned to expose Pavnor.”
“No, that's not why Vicente was killed.”
“But I thought that's what you meant.” Elia
looked across the table at Luis and shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“There was nothing in Vicente's report about China. I don't think he knew. And if he did, like you've already pointed out, it's almost what isn't made in China.”
“But why was Vicente murdered? And Aaron?”
“I don't know why people had to die.” He was still holding the pastry. He looked at it as if he couldn't figure out how it got in his hand. “We're missing something here. What is it?”
Lorraine Fegan caught a plane out of White Plains for Charleston. When she arrived late afternoon it was raining. As she deplaned, the look on her face was as dark as the day. “Why the hell do I have to do everything?” Her mantra was still intact and she recited it as she got behind the wheel of her rental car.
“I'm here.” She was on highway 526 when she made her call. She listened to a tirade, then said quietly through clenched teeth. “Because it's obvious you screw everything up, that's why.” She hit the off button and took some deep breaths to calm herself.
“Damn blood pressure.” She put her hand to her neck hoping to relieve a choking feeling. “Why do I have to do everything?” She hit the steering wheel with both hands. “I feel like a damn closer.”
Chapter 90
“We're going home.” Luis was standing on the balcony looking out to sea.
Elia turned and leaned against the railing and looked at Luis. “I thought you wanted to see this to the end. Why change your mind?” She tried to keep criticism from her tone and struggled not to say, “again.”
“You.” He glanced down at his wife.
“Me?” Her voice rose a few notes.
“Yes, you.” Before he could say more, Elia pounced.
“You're the one who wanted to come back to Kiawah.”
“This is too much,” he said.
“Luis, what's the matter with you. One minute you want to get to the bottom of this, the next minute you want to close the book and go home. I want to know what's going on, I want to know the end of this story.”
Die Before Your Time (Elia Christie / Luis Echevarria medical mysteries) Page 20