Into the Breach

by Lottie M. Hancock

  "Possibly," replied the priest, slowly. "Possibly by one of us, though I have never been able to on my own. Let me read again. I will tell you as soon as I learn anything new. Until then, how about something a little stronger than that tea?" he added with a grin.

  12

  T he lunch rush had finally come and gone, and Lisa quickly wiped down the counters and tables as Allison Barns finished loading the lunch dishes in the dishwasher. The machine towered above the blonde and when she lifted the wide handle to open its doors, it always lifted her a few inches, before she could let go. This never failed to make the cook laugh. Allison had been working weekends at the Tilted Cup since she was sixteen and had always dreaded her turn at the dishwasher.

  The bell on the door to the cafe chimed as it had at least a dozen times before in the last hour. There were always stragglers coming in late, but the tell-tale lift of Lisa's voice caught Allison's attention. She looked across the kitchen into the dining room where she saw Lisa being relentlessly charmed by her boyfriend. Allison smiled widely through the steam from the dishwasher and headed out to Lisa's rescue. Charlie was a terrible flirt. Then again, she thought, he was actually pretty great at it. She didn't worry, however. She knew where his heart was and she wore it proudly in her pocket.

  "Should I be jealous, Charles Eagen?" Lisa mocked, her hands on her hips.

  "Oh, no, dear," Charlie feigned horror and whispered loudly toward Lisa. "She's caught us! Better make a run for it!"

  Lisa burst into a fit of giggles and waved the two lovers off. "Go on break. Casanova here will have us all swooning if he had his way. Shoo!"

  Allison tossed her apron behind the counter as she grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled him out the door. Charlie had been trying to get her to marry him since they got out of high school, but she kept him at bay. It wasn't that she didn't want to be married. It was simply economics. She took night classes and he worked at a garage. In a year, she would graduate and they could settle down. Allison had already asked Lisa to be her Matron of Honor, so she knew that the answer to Charlie's constant question would change sometime soon.

  Drew's phone rang on the way out of the Old North Church. Senator Stephanie Brandt had been a member of Father Donovan's church for years and had been a major part of Drew's decision to join the police force. Her speeches about crime prevention and citizens stepping up had inspired him. It sounded much like the work that he had already been doing behind the scenes, but a great way to get the community safe from even the human danger. Now, she was on the line with a desperate plea.

  "We're on our way," Sam’s ears perked up.

  "What's up?"

  "We have another coma." Sam left his rental car on Salem St. and hopped into Drew's sedan. Within minutes they reached Massachusetts General Hospital.

  The hallways leading to the isolation section of the hospital were busier than Sam had expected. It was very much like hospitals in New York. The closer they got to the I.C.U., the quieter it became. Sam followed the chief as he seemed more familiar with the layout of the place, and they soon found the correct room. Drew began to knock when a doctor walked up and interceded.

  "Excuse me, sir, the family that is in there has asked for privacy. I hope you understand." The doctor was tall like Drew, and also like Drew he had the crew-cut russet hair. Even without the muscle mass of the chief, the doctor could have easily passed as his brother. Drew and Sam showed their badges and his demeanor changed.

  "Of course, is there any problem though?" the doctor looked concerned. There had to have been sixty beds in that unit alone and if there were any trouble, he would have to be first to be notified.

  "Not that we know of, Doctor," Drew answered. "The senator is a friend of mine."

  "Okay, that’s fine then. Let the senator know that I will be stopping in shortly." He nodded and stepped away quickly toward another room. Sam followed Drew into the sterile room. There were no flowers or other gifts to be seen and Sam noticed the sign forbidding gifts of such kinds. Heartwarming, he thought, although he understood the dangers if ignored. A woman with brownish hair stood up quickly as they walked in. There was a young man who seemed to give off an aura of protection that Sam could appreciate. The man never took his eyes off the two visitors.

  "Drew," the woman exclaimed softly as she came up to give him a hug. "I am so glad you came so quickly."

  "I couldn't stay away. How is she?" Drew asked. Sam thought the girl looked fragile, as if she would crumble if she were touched. The mother didn't look much better as she was pale and her eyes were dull.

  "No change. She has been like this since yesterday morning."

  Drew looked over at the man standing beside her bed, Stephanie motioning him over to the two men who had entered. "Michael, this is Police Chief Drew Shafer from the Boston Police Department."

  Michael relaxed instantly. Drew wondered what exactly he was expecting that would have him ready for a fight. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife and he suspected that it was about more than a loved one being ill. Drew introduced Sam to him and the senator but wasted no time getting to the point.

  "What's going on, Stephanie?"

  "Like I said, we have been here since yesterday. Sally and I were having lunch and she just collapsed. Early this morning, I received a call on my cell, but all my calls were supposed to be forwarded to my answering service. I blew it off until I heard him. He was terrifying, although he didn't threaten me openly. At least, not at first."

  "Go on," Drew urged. Seeing her at wit's end like this was unnerving.

  "He made it clear that he did this to her. He put her in the coma. About an hour ago, he called again. Oh, Drew, why would anyone do this to my little girl?" Stephanie shook as she started to weep. Michael was quickly by her side.

  "He knew things that he shouldn't have been able to know," he continued. He left out the details as he was determined that Sally would wake up and they could go on with their plans to surprise her mother about the wedding. "He said he is calling back at seven and if the senator does as he says, Sally will wake up. If not...Is there anything that you can do?"

  Just then, the door to the room opened and the doctor entered. He was uncomfortable with this many people being in the room, but in the circumstances, he wouldn't object. He offered his hand to the chief.

  "Hello, I am Dr. Thomas Mathers."

  "I'm Chief Andrew Shafer and this is Detective Sam Wesson. Is there any change?" Dr. Mathers looked over to Senator Brandt for approval before answering.

  "Nothing as of yet, I'm afraid, but we are always hopeful. It baffles us as to the cause of these comas, but we have the best team on it."

  "You said comas," Sen. Brandt had noticed. "I don't understand." The doctor realized his slip and didn't bother trying to cover it up. He had to be honest with her.

  "Yes, ma'am. There have been a few cases of these mysterious comas but they have ruled out anything contagious, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. There are only two cases, at the moment."

  "There is another patient?" asked the chief. "I had asked Admissions to alert me if there were additional cases." Sam pitied the doctor. Drew didn’t tolerate sloppy administration and this reeked of it.

  "Yes, but I'm not at the liberty to…"

  "Listen, Doctor," the chief was vehement. "I am not about to listen to you talk about doctor-patient confidentiality when there is so much at stake. There is an open case involving a blackmailer who may or may not be causing these comas and if you are half the doctor that I think you are, you will lead us to the other patient right now."

  Dr. Mathers stood speechless for several seconds before he composed himself.

  "I can take you now. She is my next visit."

  "We will be back in here before seven, Stephanie," Drew assured her as he and Sam followed the doctor out to the hallway. Once out in the hall, a familiar voice called out to them.

  "Hey, wait up," said the petite redheaded detective as she half sprinted do
wn the hall. "I got here as fast as I could. I was on a call. Hey, Sam." Sam couldn't help but smile. The girl had moxie, that’s for sure.

  "I texted her on our way up," Drew explained. "Faith, it looks like we have two more cases. The one in here is the senator's daughter."

  "Senator Brandt? Damn. Her daughter and I went to high school together." Sam could tell that this one hit too close to home for her, but she was tough.

  "Yeah, but the doctor was just about to introduce us to another one. Come on." Faith and Sam followed the doctor and the chief down a few doors and across the hallway from the senator's daughter. The door was closed. Dr. Mathers knocked cautiously and they heard someone say to come in. The man who had answered the knock wasn’t prepared for strangers.

  "What is the meaning of this?" He growled.

  "Mr. Morgan, these officers are from the Boston Police Department," explained the doctor, purposely averting the man's eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by the detectives.

  "Mr. Morgan, I am Chief Shafer, these are my associates, Detective Sam Wesson and Detective Faith Sullivan. We know this is a difficult time for you, but we need to ask you a couple of questions."

  "Can't you see that my wife is ill, Chief Shafer?" Morgan asked.

  "Yes, sir, and again I apologize but we have been investigating other comas in the area and we just need to ask a few questions in order to include your wife's illness or not. May I ask, when did this happen and the circumstances, if you will." Chief Shafer could turn on his charm to help him get through to people who were stressed, but Sam suspected that it wasn't stress that made this man irate.

  Chance Morgan looked none too pleased with the line of questioning but reserved his opinions for a later time. He returned to his chair at his wife's bedside but stared beyond her. He wore a clean-pressed, pin-striped suit that Drew assumed cost more than his annual salary. His shoes were immaculately shined and his hair and nails were neatly groomed. In comparison, his wife looked like death warmed over. Her face was gaunt, almost as if her dentures, if she had any, were removed. There were deep purple circles under her eyes, and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been touched since she had been there. Something felt off.

  "This is my wife, Bernice. She was found by our housekeeper two days ago in our dining room. I was out of town. Now she is here, and these imbeciles still have no idea what is wrong with her." Morgan's last remark was cut directly toward Dr. Mathers who continued to make notes on his clipboard as he read the machines surrounding her.

  "Mr. Morgan, as I have said before, we are doing everything we can possibly do for your wife."

  "Which is nowhere near enough, I can assure you. This is taking time away from important matters and time is money. The sooner you cure her, the sooner she can be at home, and I can try to make up for the millions your incompetence is costing me."

  Dr. Matters continued to ignore Morgan's rantings in preference for doing his job, but Sam caught the slight dilation in his eyes and a twitch in his temple. Doctors had the patience of saints, apparently. Unfortunately for Morgan, the chief did not. Sam noticed that his jaw was clenching and his eyes were bloodshot with anger.

  "Chief," Sam began.

  "Detectives, would the two of you and the good doctor here please leave Mr. Morgan and me alone for a minute? There is something we need to discuss." The chief and Chance Morgan's eyes were locked and Sam and Faith knew there was nothing they could do to remedy the situation. Sam nodded and guided Faith by the elbow out the door. Dr. Mathers gladly followed them. Once alone, Shafer stepped right up to Morgan and grabbed him by his lapel, lifting him out of the chair. Morgan's face flushed at the sudden move.

  "I...I will call the police!" he stammered.

  "Go ahead," seethed the chief, just inches from his face. "they would get here eventually. Until then, you are going to listen to what I say and you won't be interrupting me, got it?" Morgan nodded quickly although there was anger in his eyes. "Now, these good doctors are doing their very best for your wife. You’re a businessman and maybe you can appreciate this. They are not in the business of killing off their patients. Another thing, and you need to pay very close attention to this, Mr. Morgan, there have been nine other comas. One is lying just down the hall from you, struggling for her life just like your wife is doing now. The good thing is that that sweet young lady doesn't have a pompous blowhard of a husband like you to make her not want to live. Your wife can hear everything you say, even while she is in this state. Do you think she would want to come back at all knowing that you put your business fears ahead of your fears of losing her?"

  "Losing her?! No one said she would die. You can't scare me." Morgan started to struggle in his grip.

  "I said losing her, and I wasn't bluffing. Do you know how many have woke up out of those other nine? Two. That's it. The others? They are all dead. There is just those two, plus your wife and the lady down the hall. Six dead from something that I think we can stop if you can just get your head out of your ass long enough to help us!"

  Morgan looked ashen as the chief let go of his shirtfront and he collapsed back into his chair. It was difficult for Shafer to hold back from punching the sorry excuse for a human being. He stepped back to the foot of Bernice Morgan's bed without taking his eyes off the man sitting prone just a few feet away. Morgan slowly looked away from the policeman and laid eyes upon his wife as if she had just appeared.

  "So he wasn't lying."

  "Who wasn't lying, Mr. Morgan?" inquired the chief, allowing his heart rate to slow.

  "I got a call the night I came in. I had just got off the plane from Moscow. I had had my phone on airplane mode, so I don't know how the call came through. The man said that a bird that flies from his roost cannot complain when his nest is invaded. I hung up. My driver was waiting for me at the gate and I had almost walked past him, I was so angry. When I got here, I got the doctor's assessment, stayed about an hour or so and went home to sleep. He called again around three in the morning. Said that such a frail woman would not last long in the state she was in. He implied that she was tired of waiting for me so he helped her sleep. He hung up then."

  "Has he called again?"

  "This morning. He gave his ultimatum. I am supposed to sell my stock in my company. I told him to go to Hell, so he added that I had to sell it to Kenmore Enterprises." Morgan's face hardened.

  "Kenmore Enterprises?" Chief Shafer wrote in his notepad. If there were someone in that company that would directly benefit from this blackmail, he wanted to find him.

  "Our largest and most hostile competitor. We create software for hospitals such as this one and for labs all around the world. Kenmore is in the same kind of software. If I sold my stock to them, not only would I lose my position on the Board of Directors but I would be forced out of the company. Everything I have worked for would be lost."

  "And if you don't? What will your losses be, then?" the chief asked calmly. Morgan looked at his wife as if pleading for her to wake up. He reached over and took her limp hand in his for what Shafer was certain was the first time in a very long while. Shafer stepped over to the door to the hallway and opened it slightly, signaling the detectives to re-enter the room. He was surprised to find that Morgan's face was wet with his tears.

  "I don't know what to do," Morgan moaned.

  "We will find who is doing this. Let us know if you get any more calls." Chief Shafer handed him his card and lead Sam and Faith out of the room. In the hallway, the chief exhaled heavily. "Sometimes we have to be reminded about the stakes. He's alright," he answered Faith's unspoken question. "I saw it in his soul. He’s just scared."

  13

  F aith and Sam followed the chief back down the hall to Sally Brandt's room and walked in without knocking. It was a quarter to six and the caller wouldn't be in contact with the senator for another hour. There was much to consider. Two lives were on the line and they were no closer to finding this monster than they were that morning. Shafer ordered takeout from a deli down the
street to be delivered to the nurses’ desk for them.

  Sam thought about what Drew had said earlier about Morgan and quietly took him aside.

  "What did you mean when you said you saw it in his soul? Chance Morgan. You said you saw he was scared."

  "Yeah, it’s a fringe benefit about what we do, me and Faith. We can look into someone's eyes and see into their souls. In our line of work, on and off the force, it’s the best lie detector there is."

  "Ever use that thing on me?" Sam asked warily.

  "Oh, yeah," he answered. "Remember when I said I knew I would be asking you to join us sooner or later? That's how I knew. I saw something in you back in the day. You were tough, but fair. Rough around the edges, but we all were at some point. Thing is, you have a quality that we look for. It's special, Sam."

  "Well, I wouldn't call it special but if you think I can help you guys, then alright."

  Faith sat close to the senator, watching her old friend in the bed. She was furious that she felt so helpless. Sam put his hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. She attempted a smile, but failed. She was simply too angry to pretend, even for her partner.

  The food arrived and they ate in silence. Michael and Drew passed the time making small talk and taking turns grabbing coffee. Tensions mounted so high that, although it was expected, everyone jumped when the senator's phone finally rang.

  "Hello?" the senator punched the speakerphone button. Her lips were pursed and she was determined to show no fear although her eyes betrayed her.

  "I am sure your daughter is appreciating all of the wonderful attention she is receiving. Are you enjoying your guests, Senator?" the deep voice laughed, stripping her of any sense of security.

  "What do you want?"

  "Now, now, senator, let’s not be rude. I am a caller bearing gifts, after all," he taunted. "but that is neither here nor there, is it? I am willing to give your daughter back her soul right now."