by Sandra Cox
“I appreciate the offer but I’m the one working through a guilty conscience.”
“I’d argue with you if I thought it would do any good but you’re as stubborn as a mule. I don’t like it but we both can’t be gone and that’s a fact.”
She swatted at a horsefly that buzzed past her nose. “I’ll be fine.”
He snorted. “You get lost in Madison.”
She watched a sly look cross his face and knew he was gearing up to talk her into something she wouldn’t want to do.
He stuck his hands in his jean pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. “You gonna call Bella and see if she wants to go with you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Now why would I do that?” A bay mare shoved her nose in Maureen’s back from the stall she was leaning against. Maureen patted her.
“Since Price has her amulet too, you could say she has a stake in it.”
“I’ll think about it. Can you finish up here?”
His cell phone rang before he could answer. He flipped the cover. “Hello.”
He grinned at Maureen. “Hello, Bella, we were just talking about you.”
Maureen made a frantic motion with her hand while shaking her head.
“The detective called you? Cardoza? Oh, the other one.” He frowned, his expression sour. “Yes, she’s planning on going. You’ll drive? I’ll tell her. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
She glared at him, her hands fisted on her hips. “You didn’t really commit me to travel with that blonde bimbo did you?”
“Watch your mouth, missy,” he warned in a quiet voice.
She threw up her hands. “She wears stilettos, tons of makeup, jewelry and clingy clothes. What will we possibly have to talk about?”
He winked at her. “How about me?”
As she stared at him, he turned and headed for the end stalls, his hands in his back pockets, his stride easy and long-legged.
* * * * *
A car horn blasted. Bella. Maureen drew out a sigh from deep in her belly and tossed her duffle bag over her shoulder. “This is going to be one long ride,” she muttered to Wolf. “I still don’t see why I couldn’t go by myself.” Passing the mirror she took note of her scowl and thrust out bottom lip. She smoothed out the scowl and pulled in the lip. A smile would be pushing it. Between dreading the ride with Bella and her driving need to see Jack she could feel a doozy of a headache brewing right smack behind her eyes.
She walked out the door, through the house and outside. Hank was leaning on the driver’s side of a bright red sports convertible. Well let’s get this party underway.
She trotted briskly to the car. Reaching it, she threw her duffle in the back. She glanced at her driver. No wonder Hank was leaning on the car with a slack-jawed expression. Bella wore a crisp lemon yellow blouse with a matching scarf tied around her hair and spotless white shorts. I would never last a minute in white shorts.
“Get in, shug.”
An expensive perfume melding with the scent of green grass and sunshine drifted her way as she shut the door.
“You take care of yourself, honey.” She blew a kiss to Hank.
I’m going to throw up.
He stepped away from the car. “You too, Bella.” He looked over at Maureen. “Be careful, Marnie. I wish I was going with you,” he said his expression troubled.
“Don’t worry, shug, I’ll take care of her for you.”
Don’t roll your eyes. Maureen managed a tight smile.
As they rolled out of the drive, Bella switched gears and glided smoothly down the road at a sedate pace at odds with the flashy sports car. “Wave to Uncle Hank.”
Maureen turned and waved to the lonely-looking figure standing in the drive watching the car.
Hank waved back.
Maureen watched him ‘til he disappeared from view. She wished her foreman was with her now she could use his strength, integrity and gritty humor.
“Fasten your seat belt,” Bella said.
“I didn’t think we were going fast enough to need it,” Maureen sniped, but did as she was told and just in the nick of time.
Bella threw the car in fifth gear and stomped on the gas. The little car shot forward, doing what it was born to do, fly over the pavement.
Maureen grabbed her hair as the wind whipped it around and stung her cheeks. “Slow down, you fool, before you get a ticket.”
If anything, Bella sped up, passing a white sedan as if it were sitting still. “We may get stopped but we won’t get any tickets.”
Maureen snorted in disbelief still holding her hair.
A few moments later, Bella was motioned over by a state trooper but true to her word was back on the road a few minutes later traveling at the same rate of speed.
“If you’d batted your baby blues a couple of more times he probably would have given you his shield and gun.”
“You don’t like me very much do you, shug?” Bella said calmly, her left elbow resting on the side of the car.
Maureen gave a heavy sigh. “It’s more what you represent. I call a spade a spade. You call it sugar.”
Bella laughed a throaty sensuous sound.
“I don’t have time to fool with makeup and girlie girl stuff. And its so…” Maureen raised her hand in the air helplessly.
“Frou-frou.”
“Exactly,” Maureen agreed. “It all seems so shallow.”
“It’s all in what you make it shug, but just one teensy weensy piece of advice. Appearances can be deceiving.” Bella pressed further down on the pedal.
“I’m learning,” Maureen shouted into the wind. She heard the whip-whip-whip of a siren and turned her head to see a squad car motion them over.
* * * * *
He should have started his search for the power amulet by now. But he couldn’t tear himself away. He kept going back to the hospital to admire his handiwork. Poor Dr. Wolfe, all he could do was widen his eyes when he, Victor, dropped by to say hello. He had never dreamed that seeing fear in another man’s face could be so exciting, watching his victim’s color drop and his heartbeat quicken on the monitor. The good doctor was no pushover but he was no match for a syringe filled with poison. Even if it was detected no one would connect the tiny prick with blowfish poisoning and a few other little delicacies he’d concocted to paralyze the vocal chords. He laughed an eerie half-mad sound. He loved the creativity amulet almost as much as he did the healing amulet. And when he had the power amulet the world would tremble at his feet.
Chapter Twelve
Bella screeched to a halt in front of the hospital and pulled into the no-parking zone.
Maureen felt like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet. At least it had kept her mind off Jack but as she turned and looked at the red brick building with people hurrying in and out, she began to tremble. Tension tightened her shoulders, crept up her neck and held her temples in a thundering vise of pain.
Her heart thudded against her breast and she clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling. She hated hospitals. And she was afraid of what she might find. She wanted to curl into a ball and hide not go into the ugly sterile building that would smell of sickness and alcohol. She didn’t want to see Jack in the condition he’d been described. The last time she’d seen him he’d been warm and vital and full of life. She couldn’t bear to think of him as anything less.
Bella reached over and covered her icy fingers with a warm hand. She gave her a squeeze. “Want me to come in with you, shug?”
Maureen bit her lips together and shook her head.
“I’m going to go by the police station then and see what I can find out. I’m not sure how long it will take but I’ll get back as soon as possible. You got my cell number right?”
Maureen nodded wordlessly.
“Shug.”
She looked over at Bella.
“It’s going to be all right.”
Maureen smiled her thanks. She pressed one hand over the other against her stomach took a d
eep breath and forced herself to get out of the car.
Biting down on her lips she walked through the entryway. People sat in chairs reading magazines or watching TV, waiting with endless patience for word of loved ones. She straightened and walked up to the wooden desk. A middle-aged woman with curly brown hair streaked with gray looked up at her from the newspaper she read. “May I help you?” Her voice was polite, her expression distant.
“Jack Wolfe. What room is he in?”
She looked on the computer screen. “310,” she said and went back to her newspaper.
Maureen walked down the hall. The drab green walls seemed to narrow as she walked down the corridor. Her heart pounded and she panted for breath. She stopped and leaned against the wall as cold beads of sweat popped out on her forehead.
“Miss, are you all right?” An orderly in blue scrubs stopped and looked at her, his face filled with concern.
Somehow she managed to drum up a small tight smile and pull herself off the wall. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“Could I get you a glass of water? Do you need to set down in the waiting room?”
“I’m fine, really.”
He gave her one last searching look. “All right then,” he said and hurried on his way.
She made it to the elevator and pressed the button. The round disc with the number three lit up and the gleaming silver box glided upward.
Motioning for the older couple in front of her to go ahead, she straightened her shoulders and stepped out just before the door glided shut.
She followed the arrows pointing out the hall for 300 to 320 and turned down it. Stopping outside 310, she finger-combed her hair and straightened her chocolate colored shirt. Lifting her chin, she pushed open the door.
He lay motionless on the bed. An occasional tremor passed through his face and hands.
“Oh God, Jack.” She pressed her hand to her heart, staring in disbelief. Tony had told her on the phone but the reality was so much worse.
She found herself standing beside the bed unaware she’d moved. She could feel her eyes dilate. Grabbing his hand, she squeezed. It felt cold and slack in hers as if his bones had done a meltdown.
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice came out a whisper. It wasn’t ’til warm tears plopped on her hand that she realized she was crying. “This is all my fault. I didn’t believe you. I thought you were working with that monster.” She slumped into the chair by the bed, laid her head on his arm and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” A tremor from his arm rippled across her cheek. She lifted her head. His eyes were open.
“Jack!” She jumped up, her breathing shallow, not daring to hope. “Jack?”
He blinked.
She bent closer and studied him. He lay in the same position unmoving, not even turning his head to look at her. “Jack?”
He blinked again.
She lifted his hand. It was an effort, his arm was the texture of Jell-O. A chill chased down her spine. “Jack?”
He blinked.
“Can you hear me?”
He blinked again.
Resting an arm on the rail, she leaned forward, headless of the tears dripping on him. “You listen to me. I’m going to get the amulet back. Come hell or high water I’m going to get it back and when I do everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be all right.”
She could feel his sluggish pulse jump beneath her hand. He blinked several times. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. Bella is with me. And Tony Cardoza has put me in touch with one of the detectives on the force. He’s the one that tracked you down.” A shudder passed through her. What if we hadn’t found you? If you’d been left to waste away until you died? What kind of monster would do this to another human being?
She continued to talk, forcing a cheerful note into her voice. “Pegasus is fine. Though I think he misses you.” She cleared her throat. “You found Victor in Chicago didn’t you?” She watched closely for his response.
He blinked again.
“Well if you found him I can too.”
She heard the door open.
His eyes fluttered. Blink. Blink. Blink.
She turned just in time to see it close and catch a glimpse of blond hair and a white-shirted shoulder before the door swung shut. The brief outline she’d seen had pictures flooding her brain. Victor’s satanic face when he ran her off the road, when he shot her, and when he used a taser on her and stole the amulet.
A mirror on the wall threw back her dead white reflection, her eyes huge and frightened. Her breath coming in short pants, she looked back at Jack and watched his rapid-blinking eyes. “No it can’t be,” she whispered.
He continued to blink and the heart monitor began to race.
“Victor?”
He blinked again.
“Oh God.” She dropped his hand sprang up from the chair, reached the door in two steps and threw it open then looked up and down the hall. He’d disappeared as if in thin air.
She ran to the nurses’ station. “Did a good-looking blond-haired man just go by?”
The nurse on duty, a heavyset, middle-aged redhead, laughed. “Honey, if he had I wouldn’t have let him get away.” Her gaze sharpened. “Is something wrong? Did he steal your purse or something?”
“Yes.” So much easier than trying to explain.
“I’ll notify security.”
Maureen nodded then made a dash for the stairwell. She leaned far over, her hair swinging in the air. He was on the first floor landing. “Victor Price!” she yelled out.
“Miss Sinclair,” he called up and blew her a kiss before opening the door to the first floor. Almost tripping over her feet in her haste, she grabbed the cool steel rail as she ran down the stairs as fast as she could go and opened the door. She pushed past a tall thin man in front of her and raced for the door. Standing on the steps as people streamed by her she looked right and left at the sidewalk teeming with people. Victor had disappeared.
Frustration raced through her along with body-shaking rage. That son of a bitch. Had he been doing this to Jack regularly, taunting him? Well that was coming to an end. She would find him, deal with him and get the amulet back. She had to get it back. Jack was depending on her.
She picked up the phone and dialed. “Bella, are you at the police station?”
“Yes.”
“You’d better grab our contact and get over here. I just saw Victor Price.”
“We’re on our way.” The dial tone sounded.
No, hysterics, no questions, just “We’re on our way”. The fluffy-haired blonde with lots of makeup had just moved up another notch on Maureen’s Richter scale of respect.
As the sun beat down on the pavement causing the heat to radiate upward and her clothes to stick to her body. She took one last look around then hurried back in the building and upstairs.
She entered his room and knew immediately something was wrong. His eyes were closed, his face blue as he gasped for breath. “Hold on Jack, hold on.” She ran to the bed and pushed the button. “I need someone here now. This man can’t breathe.” She ran out into the hall and yelled, “Someone help me please.”
A young nurse came running. She pushed past Maureen took one look at Jack and went racing across the hall. She threw the door open. “Doctor, we have an emergency in 310.”
The doctor, a balding older gentleman with glasses balanced on the tip of his nose, came rushing in. He took one look at the monitor and ordered, “Get this man on oxygen, stat.”
Maureen stood in the far corner out of the way. She looked at the monitor and felt cold clammy dread creep over her. His heart rate was dropping as he fought for air. Sixty-five. Sixty. Fifty-five.
The nurse pushed an oxygen mask on his face.
“We’ll have to intubate the trachea.” The doctor’s gaze darted back and forth between Jack and the heart monitor. “No, wait.” The monitor leveled off to a near normal rate. With each nerve-racking minute his breathing seemed easier. His chest didn’t rise and fall like a
squeezed accordion. Color crept up his neck and back into his face.
“He’s stabilized.” For the first time he took note of Maureen. “Young woman, are you family?”
She didn’t blink, didn’t hesitate. “His sister. Can you tell me what’s wrong with him?”
“Let’s step outside.”
They stood in the hall, quiet now except for a couple of visitors walking down the corridor.
She turned to the doctor. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s dying.”
Her breath lodged in her throat and like Jack moments before she fought for air. “What!”
“He’s wasting away before our eyes, his muscles are gone, paralysis has set in and now respiratory failure. I give him a week at the most.”
A wave of heat washed over her followed by bone-chilling cold. Her breath coming in short sharp pants, she fisted her hands. “What the hell kind of doctor are you anyway? Are you just giving up on him? All you can tell me is he’s dying in the same tone you’d tell me its raining outside?” She jammed a finger in his chest. “Well you do something and you do something now.”
Gently, he removed her hand his fingers warm against the chill of her skin. “Let’s go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee and get you something to eat.”
She yanked her arm away. “Screw your cafeteria. Don’t treat me like some wayward child in the middle of a tantrum. You tell me what’s wrong with him and what you are going to do about it.”
Fingers as smooth as silk clasped her forearm and an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Problems, sugar?” Bella’s sensuous perfume cut through the nauseating odor of sickness and antiseptic permeating the hall.
Maureen had never been so glad to see anyone in all her life. “The doctor here says,” she took a deep breath into her belly and pushed it out, fighting for control, ”that our brother is dying.”
The doctor looked at Bella and his eyes glazed over. “You’re this young woman’s sister?”
“I sure am, sugar. Maureen here was a late life child. Mamma and Daddy just had to have one more go at it.”
Maureen couldn’t help it, she giggled. The tension in her muscles loosened. Laughter the best medicine.