“Stay where you are!” Jax ordered. “The police have given you protection and you’re in no shape to travel. I’ll make arrangements and go look for Maieli myself.”
“Absolutely not! You think I’m going to give you a choice assignment and let you fly off to Italy? Remember, it’s my name on the shingle!” she teased. “Seriously Jax, I have to follow through on this one. Besides, you’ll be much more valuable in Washington. You need to decipher who’s behind all the killings.”
Jax remained silent. Then he relented. “You win. At least on that point—we may be getting a little closer. I’ve left messages for both Doiron and Avery and I’m waiting for them to return my calls. But I also checked out Erog at your suggestion. At first I wasn’t sure what to look for until I remembered the one link between the three scientists was climate change. Get this: Erog’s wife and two sons are on various boards whose companies are into green energy. In fact, the same companies Erog himself served on before he was elected to the Senate. And the same companies that received stimulus money. Not sure about conflict of interest, but it certainly raises suspicion.”
“It could be a possible motive for Spark’s death—if Spark knew. But it doesn’t explain the deaths of the three scientists.”
“What if Spark had to give Erog some inkling as to the testimony to get him to agree?”
“Then Erog may have thought it would jeopardize his personal enterprises as well as his position on the committee.”
“Especially if he was peddling his clout.”
“It could be a likely scenario but keep digging. Jax, also check back with the chief. I was able to convince him to have von Boehmer’s body autopsied. He’s also going to try to track down Doerfinger’s Lexus. Get this, he even promised to follow up with the police investigation in Saint Léger du Ventoux.”
“Another one of your miracles?” he jested and then acquiesced. He had met his match and lost. “Will do, Boss—reluctantly. But please be careful. And call me as soon as you arrive.”
“Promise.” She hit the red phone icon.
Max was getting restless waiting for Stanton. But in the meantime, she needed help to get out of her hospital garb and into her street clothes. She knew she had little time to spare. As she was about to hit her call button, she caught Yungst standing in the doorway.
“You look like hell, Doc,” she ribbed, trying to make light of the whole situation.
“I could say the same for you.” He smiled.
“Seriously, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine Max, considering your visitor was running around with a curare-filled syringe.”
“What do you mean?”
“The toxicology report showed over a hundred milligrams of pancuronium bromide. It’s a pretty nasty drug. Basically, it causes the muscles to relax totally, paralyzing the diaphragm and lungs. Needless to say, causing a person to suffocate.”
Max shivered. “Yeah Doc, I’m aware of the drug. Thank God you’re okay.”
“Thanks to you, I’m still kicking. It’s good to be alive.” Yungst tightened his expression and then steered the conversation away from himself. “The nurse tells me you’ve decided to leave our lovely establishment. With or without my okay.”
“For your safety and others, I think it might be a good idea.”
“Max, I really don’t want to know what you’ve gotten yourself into. But if you ask for my medical opinion, leaving the hospital in your condition is a bad idea.”
“Doc, I almost got you killed. And the longer I stay here, I’d be placing other lives in jeopardy as well.”
Yungst exhaled, puffing out his cheeks. “I thought I’d give it a shot— no pun intended.” He chuckled and then said, “So, are you ready?”
Max nodded as she pointed to her dangling limb.
Carefully, Yungst lowered her leg, freeing her damaged ankle from the sling and laid it on the bed. He could see that she was trying to be stoic but caught her wince. “Here.” He handed her two bottles of pills. “This is Percocet. Take one every six hours for pain as needed. The other is Promethazine. You can take it in conjunction with the Percocet if you become nauseous. Max, try to keep your foot elevated as much as possible and ice it whenever you can. It’s best to use the crutches and not put any weight on your ankle for at least another week. But against my better judgment, I’ll give you this walking boot to be used when absolutely necessary. By all means, don’t leave the stitches in for any more than two weeks.” Slowly, a sympathetic smile crossed Yungst’s lips as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Other than that, I wish you well. Seriously, please be careful out there.”
Max returned the smile, genuinely grateful for his care.
Suddenly Stanton appeared in the doorway and her pain was replaced with relief.
“Is there anything else you need?” Yungst asked, noting the expression on her face. He assumed the official-looking visitor was the one to help her leave the hospital.
“No, thank you. You’ve been great Doc, really.”
“Then I’ll go sign your release orders. But promise me, you’ll see a doctor no later than two weeks. Seriously, you’ll need the stitches taken out.”
“Promise.”
“Sure you will.” Yungst turned to leave but as he was about to walk out of the room, he looked back one last time. “Good luck, Max,” he said, displaying a bit of regret.
“You look like hell,” Stanton said, as he leaned against the doorframe, brandishing a friendly smile.
“Why do people keep saying that?” Max pouted, and then with sincerity she admitted, “It’s so good to see you.” She eased back into her pillow.
Stanton walked over to the bedside and touched the bandage on Max’s head and then kissed her forehead gently. “Well doll, you’ve really gotten yourself into a fine mess. And you’ve been a P.I. for how long?”
“Not you too. I’ve already received a lecture from Jax, and God knows where Noble is, but I expect he’ll give me an earful as well. Enough!” Max knew it was time to get the hell out of there and abruptly ended the teasing repartee. “Stanton, please grab my clothes out of the locker.” She handed him the key.
He handed over her clothing and asked, “Need any help?” A devilish grin crossed his face.
“No! Turn around,” she ordered. Max tried to get dressed the best she could, but found it difficult to pull the left pant leg over her newly donned cast and surrendered. “Stanton, turn around.”
He immediately saw her predicament and the devilish grin returned. However, with some extra tugging, he managed to slide the pant leg up to her thigh.
“I can finish from here, thank you.”
“Okay, princess, now let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter 24
BOTCHED ATTEMPT
It was late into the night and the senator was alone in his office. His corpulent figure cast an ominous shadow on the wall illuminated by the only lamp turned on. The corridors outside were empty and eerily silent. He was restless, repeatedly wringing his hands, waiting for the dreaded phone to ring—not the one on the desk, but the one in the drawer. Finally, the call came, breaking the deafening silence.
He grabbed the receiver. “It’s about time!” he groused.
“She’s gone,” the caller said.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
“There are cops swarming all over the place. Somehow she slipped out of the hospital. I’m checking all the airports now, but security is really tight. Evidently POTUS is in town.”
“She wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital alive. For Christ’s sake, she was in traction. How could you let that happen?”
“A doc walked in as I was about to send her nighty-night. I had to get out of there pronto.”
“You botch this one—we’re all going nighty-night. I promise you it won’t be painless. Now find out where she’s headed and finish the job!”
Chapter 25
BUON VIAGGIO
The doc was corre
ct. It did hurt like hell. The moment Stanton helped her up onto the crutches, she could feel the blood rush to her ankle. But she had little choice. Now buckled into her seat, waiting for the plane to take off, she once again had little choice. So she spent the time mulling over the bizarre events that had taken place over the past three days. Any sane person would think they’re figments of my wild imagination—except for the fact they actually happened. She gave into a slight shudder at the thought. Then Stanton popped back into her mind.
As promised, he arrived bringing reinforcements. And once he confirmed the hospital floor was secure, they moved into action. Stanton had prearranged to use the helicopter landing pad on the roof of the hospital to whisk Max away to the Miami International Airport—in none other than the president’s private helicopter. He saw it as divine providence with the president being occupied delivering a speech, followed by the usual luncheon. After all, he needed only to borrow Military One for a short time, and the copter was sitting idly on the tarmac. He would have three hours before the president would need transportation to Tampa International Airport. It was a calculated risk, but he deemed it a worthy cause.
Stanton in his wisdom, arranged for a direct flight to provide Max with both ease and safety, for which she was grateful. His actions also included clearing her to carry a firearm. The accompanying cast and crutches provided her with additional privileges, making the boarding process manageable. The first-class seat was a nice added touch. And for the first time since her flight to Sarasota days earlier, Max was finally able to relax. Thanks, Stanton, you covered all the bases. She readjusted herself into a more comfortable position as the plane lifted off from the runway—and then finally it hit her. In nine hours and fifty-five minutes she would arrive at the Fiumicino airport in Rome, Italy to begin her hunt for a missing scientist.
“Would you care for breakfast?” the flight attendant asked.
“Breakfast?” Max was clearly confused coming out of her slumber.
“We’ll be landing in about an hour.”
She realized that she had slept through most of the flight, but in a way she was relieved. She still had a mission to accomplish and needed to be sharp. “Yes, please,” she responded and moved her seat into an upright position. After devouring her meal, her next order of business was to find a flight attendant to help her to the lavatory. She reached over and pushed her call button. Seconds later a smiling attendant appeared. With some effort and a lot of discomfort, Max managed to get out of her seat and sling her handbag over her shoulder. Then with the attendant in tow, she hobbled along on her boot cast, opting to forego the crutches. Fortunately, the lavatory was only a few rows away.
“Thank you,” Max said as she managed to wiggle into the toilet on her own. “Egad!” Not until that moment had she thought to look at herself in a mirror. With all the commotion, she had forgotten that her head was still wrapped in gauze. Gingerly, she unwrapped the seemingly never-ending cloth until she reached the end. Then she took a deep breath and stared back at her reflection. Above her left eyebrow was a row of stitches in a nimbus of black and blue. “Que sera sera. Nothing I can do about it now,” she sighed and then tossed the gauze into the trash bin. She was glad for the few bare essentials in the toiletry kit, compliments of the airline. Starting with one of the prepackaged facial cloths, she carefully cleansed her face and then brushed her teeth. She ran a comb through her hair and tossed it back up into a bun. As a final act of vanity she put on some lip gloss. Then she leaned back against the lavatory wall and reexamined the results. “This is as good as it gets!” She was semi-pleased, but more important, she was beginning to feel like her old scrappy self.
The plane had fortunately landed on time, but Max found the disembarking slightly more cumbersome than the boarding. But the wheelchair waiting in the gangway made it doable, coupled with the airport attendant steering her through customs at warp speed. While she imagined he drove his car the same Italian-devil-may-care way, she was thankful he had succeeded in delivering her to the driver waiting outside without incident. With his help, she managed to slide into the back seat of the Audi. The driver attended to her luggage. In no time she was on her way. And hopefully, closer to finding Antonio Maieli.
The driver effortlessly maneuvered the car through the winding hills of the Tuscan countryside almost as deftly as the airport attendant wielded the wheelchair. Relieved to be on solid ground and once again being left little choice, Max sat back and marveled at the unfamiliar scenery. There appeared to be endless rows of majestic cypress trees lining most of the roads surrounding the hillside towns. Staring at them out of the black reflective window was almost hypnotic, until she felt a sudden tightness in her chest, along with the staccato beat of her heart. Instinctively, she grabbed the left side of her bosom. Then came the Eureka moment. It’s not a heart attack you damn fool. She knew full well what it was—it was the sudden confrontation with harsh reality. I’ve traveled all the way to Italy on a hunch? What am I—nuts? Uncharacteristically, she began to question her own instincts, wondering or rather hoping her self-doubt could be attributed to the anesthesia. A second later the onset of uncertainty turned to impatience, forcing herself to refocus. She glanced at her watch. They had already been on the road for over two-and-a-half hours. By her estimate, the time of arrival should be momentary. Evidently, she was correct. Minutes later, the driver turned off the main highway and ascended up a steep, narrow, paved road.
“Signorina, siamo arrivati,” the driver announced.
Max assumed as much, having just passed the gigantic bronze angel-like statue holding a ribbon displaying the emblazoned word Capannelle. She also saw on top of the hill, above the towering piece of metal, a large stone building that she suspected was the winery and hotel. The driver continued to follow the hotel signs leading the way until he pulled into the circular driveway. The car came to an abrupt stop.
Before tangling with her luggage and crutches, Max reached into her handbag for the envelope of euros Stanton had given her and proceeded to hand the driver four crisp bills in hundred denominations, the prearranged fare. Separately, she tipped him an additional fifty euros for his service.
“Grazie Signorina; molto generoso.”
Max was aware that Italians were unaccustomed to receiving large tips American–style and that sometimes it was overkill, but she thought under the circumstances it was warranted. She was also hoping for a little assistance. It worked.
The driver leaped out of the car and rushed to open the passenger-side door to help Max steady her crutches on the gravel driveway. He then retrieved her luggage and pointed to the sign marked Guests. Allowing her to proceed, he walked closely behind as Max maneuvered her way along the cobblestone path. After rounding the corner, they walked onto a large terrace. Both were taken aback by the breathtaking views overlooking the charming village of Gaiole. To her right she entered the stone building and walked into a stunning living room. It was elegant but rustic at the same time. Nothing one would expect in a hotel. She began to wonder whether she had intruded upon someone’s private residence, but she was sure she saw the sign for Guests.
The driver placed her bag on the floor next to the sofa. “Va bene.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Buonasera, Signorina,” the driver said, as he bowed and then departed.
Max let out a huge sigh of relief. She had finally arrived thanks to Stanton, who had also arranged for a private car to drive her to Capannelle, and provided her with an untraceable amount of euros. Now only Jax and Stanton knew where she was—and of course, there was Sam.
Chapter 26
A NIGHT IN THE VINEYARD
“Anyone home?” Max called out.
On cue a beautiful young woman bounded into the room. “Benvenuto. Welcome. I am Valentina.”
“My name is Max Ford. I have a reservation.”
“Si, Signorina, we were expecting you. Please follow me.” Valentina picked up Max’s luggage and carried it into
an adjacent room on the other side of the sofa from where they stood. “We have several beautiful rooms upstairs and outside in the other building, but this one will be more comfortable for you, madam.”
“This is lovely. Thank you.”
“The person who made your reservation also arranged for your lunch and dinner meals to be served in the hotel. Normally we serve breakfast only but we are happy to accommodate you under the circumstances. Also, we lock up the house at seven-thirty when the staff leaves for the night. Only the guests have access. Would it be possible to serve your dinners at 7:00?”
“Of course. I don’t want to be a burden.” Oh, yes, Stanton, you thought of everything. Max smiled as she listened to the delightful woman pass along further instructions in her melodic Italian accent.
Valentina began by familiarizing Max with the layout of the house. “Directly from the living room, past the French doors, you will find our tasting room, a small library, the dining room and our kitchen,” she explained with pride. Then she proceeded to inform Max about the breakfast hours, the pool, and the evening cocktails normally served at six o’clock on the terrace. “Next to your phone you will find a number where the office manager can be reached after hours.” Valentina discerned that new guest understood all she had conveyed. “Signorina, please let us know if there is anything else we can do for you.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll be fine—” Max started to ask Valentina if they had a guest registered by the name of Antonio Maieli but resisted. She had no idea what danger may have been lurking. Thoughts of the doctor resurfaced and then her thoughts trailed off. I have to find Antonio Maieli on my own. Then what?
Valentina noted her expression and quietly left the room.
At the sound of the door closing, Max checked her watch. She had about forty minutes to unpack, acquaint herself with her foreign surroundings, and place a call to Jax as promised. She decided to use the cocktail hour as an opportunity to scour the guests firsthand, in hopes of finding her missing scientist.
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