“Something bit you. I hope it wasn’t a snake.” Landry hated snakes. With a passion. So many were poisonous. What if Nickolai had been bitten by one of them and she didn’t get him to the hospital in time? She bore down harder on the accelerator.
“Slow down. It wasn’t a snake. There’s one little puncture mark here. Snake fangs come in pairs.”
“A spider?” She’d seen documentaries about spider bites. Black widows. Brown recluses. Some of that venom ate flesh and left holes in people’s skin. She sped up just a little more.
“Maybe, but if so, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Must not be one of the very poisonous ones.”
She wanted to let out a sigh of relief but realized he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t know what had bitten him, so he couldn’t know the level of danger he faced at the moment.
Oh, Lord, please let me get him to the hospital in time. Please, God.
“Tell me about your dad’s business. I heard some rumors, but I’d rather hear the truth from you.” Nickolai’s head was against the seat and his eyes were closed.
As much as she hated talking about it, she wasn’t going to deny him. Not when, number one, he’d shared such personal and emotional details of his life with her and, number two, she needed to keep him talking in case he was about to go into shock. “Dad’s memory began slipping more and more, but he refused to back off of working. Said he needed to make sure all the bills were paid.”
Oh, the memories of her father’s concerns.
Nickolai rolled his head to face her and opened his eyes. “Was there a financial strain?”
“Well, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t realize how much he’d cleaned out the savings for Mom’s care and funeral. He didn’t want to worry me, but I wish he’d have told me.” It hurt that he’d kept her so in the dark. She could’ve been helping them financially for some time. Had she known.
“You can’t help when you don’t know help is needed.” He said the same thing Marcie had told her time and again, but from him … it was just different.
“Yeah, but I should’ve known. Especially when he was diagnosed. I should’ve looked into everything right then and there.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She cut her eyes to him.
“I’m not judging; I’m really just asking.” His tone held no malice, so she couldn’t be offended.
“My dad was always a very proud man.” Tears stung. “He always took care of my mom. Gave her everything she ever wanted. I never wanted for anything. He took great pride in providing so well for us.”
“There’s nothing wrong with taking care of the people you love.”
“No, but if I’d known …” Landry wiped away the tears and concentrated on the road again. “Anyway, when he still had cases to work but started forgetting things, I stepped in and helped. Before long, I was doing the actual work. I didn’t mind. I was good at it. Finding insured art items and recovering them challenged me, and it kept Dad working.”
“So why was there all this hoopla in the rumor mill about your dad’s reputation being tainted or something?” Nickolai’s words started to slur.
“Because we never told the insurance company he worked for about Dad’s condition. We never told them I was helping Dad at all. I would do the work, recover the piece, have Dad sign off on the report, and take it in as if Dad asked me to bring everything by.” She paused and glanced at him. “You okay?”
“I’m feeling a little woozy, but hey, they got their knickers all bunched up because you did your dad’s job for him?”
“They said we deceived them, which we did.” She knew better. Always had known it was wrong but kept trying to justify it to herself and even to the Holy Spirit when she felt convicted. “So, they straight-out asked and I told the truth. They fired Dad on the spot, told everybody in the business what had happened, and Dad never had another case before he died.” She’d always felt that not having a job had pushed him further into the pit of dementia. Idleness fed his disease.
“Mmm.” His head rolled away from her.
“Nickolai, come on, stay with me.” She reached for his hand. Her shoulder tinged with pain, but she ignored it. “Come on, stay with me.”
Landry glanced at the cell—less than a mile until they would arrive at the hospital. “Come on. We’re almost there.” God, help me out here. “Nickolai! Nickolai!”
The computerized voice telling her to turn right on West Southern Avenue and the destination would be on her right was her only response.
Where was he?
In the recesses of his mind, Nickolai recognized the symptoms of drugs in his system. Understood, on some level at least, that narcotics ran through his veins and altered his perception.
Chanting filled Nickolai’s mind. Even though it wasn’t English, he understood. He was being told it was okay. Everything was okay.
Nickolai opened his eyes into the darkness. The darkness except for one pinpoint of light. A fire. His pulse thrummed, but the chanting continued. Was he awake or dreaming?
He could feel something close to him. Inanimate, but bright. Yellow. Gold. Lots and lots of gold. The mine. He’d found it.
The chanting stopped, and Nickolai broke out into a sweat. His head burned. He grabbed at his clothes, tearing at them. Hot; so hot. Couldn’t breathe.
An Indian appeared from the fire. Taller than him. Wider. Stronger. He pushed the gold from Nickolai’s vision. Before he could argue, the chanting returned. So did the peace.
Nickolai exhaled. Inhaled. Slowly. Inhale. Exhale.
He slept, or at least thought he must have, because he was awake now. Awake and feeling like himself again. No heat, no chanting, no fire, nothing but the stench of sickness and bleach mixed making him gag. He struggled to sit up, but there was too much … stuff around him.
“Hold on there, buddy.” A man’s voice seemed to echo inside his head.
Nickolai tried to open his eyes, but the light nearly blinded him. He groaned. The remnants of his dream curled around his mind.
“Hang tight. Let me dim this light for you. It’ll help,” the man’s voice said.
A click blasted in the room, then a steady drone of beeping. Nickolai squinted and opened his eyes again. The light was much dimmer and didn’t split his head. The man standing beside his bed wore navy scrubs. He was thin, almost sickly so, with scruffy blond hair.
“Where am I?” Nickolai asked, but his voice sounded warbled and distant, even to his own ears.
“You’re at Banner Goldfield Medical Center. You were brought in to the emergency room by a little lady who has worked herself into a tizzy not being allowed back here.”
“Landry.”
“Yep, that’s her name. She was beside herself when she drove up here with you unconscious in the front seat. Then when she was told only family could be back here, well, she almost flipped. She’s been asking the nurse for updates every ten minutes. I think the nurses are ready to throttle her.” The guy chuckled, but Nickolai wasn’t amused.
“Are you my doctor?” Nickolai hoped he wasn’t. If this kid was his doctor, he needed to get out of here immediately.
The young guy smiled. “Nope. I’m your nurse. Marvin.” He wagged his finger at Nickolai. “Now no rude jokes about male nurses allowed.” He grinned and checked the IV bag Nickolai just noticed hanging next to his bed.
“Landry. The lady.”
“She’s in the waiting room.”
“Bring her back here. Please.”
Marvin put his hand on his hip. “Policy is only family is allowed back in the treatment rooms.”
“She saved my life. She’s my friend.” As soon as he said it, Nickolai realized it was true. He did think of Landry as a friend.
“Well, I think that does get her some pull, too. Hold on, I’ll see what I can do.” Marvin disappeared behind the curtain.
Nickolai straightened in the bed, adjusting the pillows behind him and straightening the covers up to his a
rmpits. He had no idea where his clothes had gone but did his best to cover as much of himself as possible. Why hadn’t they put one of the gowns on him? At least he wouldn’t be bare chested for pity’s sake. He ran his hand over his hair, trying to tame the wildness he could only imagine. He did the same to his beard.
The curtain’s metal holders rattled in their groove as Marvin pulled back the curtain and let Landry in the little area. “Now remember, shh.” Marvin held his finger to his lips, smiled, and then backed out of the semiprivate room.
“Thank the Lord you’re okay. They haven’t told me anything except you were unconscious but stable.” Landry took his IV-less hand in hers.
“Hey, I heard you saved my life.”
“I doubt that, but you nearly scared me half to death.”
Nickolai smiled at her. She truly cared about him. The concern in her voice was 100 percent genuine. It’d been a while since someone really and truly cared for him. Well, a woman anyway.
“What did the doctor say?” Landry asked.
“I don’t know. I woke up and saw Marvin. He told me you were in the waiting room and I asked him to get you. That’s all I know. What happened?”
“You climbed up the rocks, and near the top, you just let go. You fell down, but it looked to me like you were having an allergic reaction. Well, like I do when I eat tree nuts. I didn’t know what else to do, so I grabbed my EpiPen and injected you.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I remember most of that. I remember getting in the Jeep and talking. You were telling me about your dad.”
Her eyes went sad.
He squeezed her hand. “Then I started getting dizzy. We figured out something probably bit me.” Nickolai held up his IV hand. Sure enough, there was a big red welt on the palm. He hadn’t even realized his hand sat on an ice pack. “I don’t really remember anything after that.”
“We pulled up here, and I laid on the horn in the emergency entrance until your nurse and others ran out with a wheelchair. I told them what I knew, and they whisked you away. That’s all I knew, except the nurses telling me you were still unconscious but stable.” She ran her fingers through the top of his hair. “You really scared me.”
Nickolai’s heart rate sped as her fingers fluffed his hair.
The curtain rattled, and a man joined them. Older, white hair, glasses, and decked out in a nice, long white coat.
“You must be the doctor,” Nickolai said.
He smiled. “I am. Dr. McCormack. And you are a very lucky young man, thanks to this lady.”
Nickolai squeezed her hand again.
“You were stung by a scorpion, which you are obviously and apparently allergic to. You had a severe reaction. Had this young lady not recognized the symptoms and had an EpiPen available and used it, we might very well not be having a conversation at all.”
“A scorpion? I’ve never been stung. To be honest, I’ve never even seen one.”
“Clearly not from around here.” Dr. McCormack grinned. “While the epi took care of the symptoms of the allergic reaction, your body still reacted to the venom itself. It got you pretty good. You’re receiving antibiotics in your IV, along with some fluids to keep you hydrated, and we’ll keep monitoring your site. As you’ve noticed, we’re keeping it iced to reduce the swelling and further spreading of the venom.”
“Wow.” Landry’s eyes were beautiful in this light.
Dr. McCormack nodded. “We’ll keep you overnight to make sure you have no further reactions and monitor the actual site, but I fully anticipate you’ll be able to be discharged tomorrow.” He signed a chart and handed it to Marvin, who’d returned. “We’ll get you moved to a room for the night. I’ll check on you in the morning, and of course, the nurses will keep me apprised of your condition.” Without another word, he turned and was gone.
“I’ll get your admittance started and then come get you.” Marvin took the chart and left.
“Well, looks like you’re going to be okay.” Landry smiled, and it did really strange things to his gut.
Speaking of strange things … “Hey, has there been a really tall Indian around? Maybe chanting or something?”
She raised her brows. “Chanting? Not that I’ve seen. No one like that has come in since we’ve been here, but maybe someone was back here that I didn’t see. Why?”
Now he felt silly. He shook his head. “I probably had a dream because of all the medications.”
Landry patted his hand. “Maybe. Or you might have overheard something. Do you remember anything specific?”
“Do you know what ‘Sadnleel da’ya’dee nzho’ means? Or the word Gopan?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Exhaustion weighed her every move. Soreness tugged at her shoulder. Landry eased out of the Jeep and made her way to her motel room. The bed wasn’t as comfortable as her memory foam mattress at home, but it would be just as inviting as drained as she felt.
“I know what you did.” The woman’s voice behind her caused Landry to turn.
She faced a very angry Vanessa, who pointed her finger in Landry’s face. “You used what I told you about Tarak to get into his house. What did you do?” She took a step forward. “What did you do?”
Landry stepped back. “I didn’t do anything. I just looked at his map.”
“You want to find the treasure.” Vanessa spat at Landry’s feet. “You will not find anything. You try to interrupt Tarak prayer vigil. You are evil. You stay away from Tarak. And me. You stay away.” She spat again at Landry’s feet. “The treasure is cursed and those who hunt for it, cursed as well.” Vanessa turned and stomped away.
Landry started to call after her, to apologize for upsetting her, then decided to remain silent. It probably didn’t matter what she said, the woman would believe what she would. Besides, Landry didn’t have the energy to withstand another outburst.
She made her way to her room and went to insert her key into the door, but the door pushed open.
Great. What now?
She flipped on the light and gasped at the sight before her. She leaned against the doorjamb as she tried to take it all in.
Her laptop lay on the floor, smashed. Papers were torn and scattered everywhere. Her clothes were tossed all over the place. Makeup and toiletry items were dumped on the beds, on her clothes … everywhere. The room, totally destroyed.
Her heart free-fell to her toes as she went to the bedside table and checked in the narrow space between her bed and the table.
Her gun and case were gone.
She sat on the edge of the bed, fending off the tears threatening to take control. No. She couldn’t allow that. Dear Lord, help me. I don’t know what else to do.
Of course she knew she had to call the police, but everything seemed so overwhelming. It’d been a very long, very emotional day, and apparently, her night would be more of the same.
She called the police from her cell phone, since the cord of the room’s phone had been yanked out of the phone, and then called the motel office. Kohl, the owner and manager, hadn’t sounded very pleased. He’d offered to send housekeeping to clean up after the police came, but she declined, pretty sure Vanessa wouldn’t want to clean up after this mess.
Unless, Landry considered, she’d been the one to make the mess.
Hmm. It was possible. She’d been angry enough, that much was obvious. Angry enough to act on it, too. But would she have destroyed the room, knowing she might have to clean it up? Maybe. Anger tended to render most people unable to think rationally.
“Goodness, what happened here?”
Landry stood and faced the door. Phillip Fontenot loomed in the doorway, surveying the mess that had once been so neat. “Obviously someone broke into my room.” Her sarcasm really showed when she was beyond tired.
“Are you okay?” He stared at her face, as if to make the determination himself.
“I’m fine. I wasn’t even here. I was at the hospital with Nickolai.”
“What?”
She quick
ly told him about the scorpion sting and following hospital visit. “But the doctor wanted to keep him overnight to watch him. He should be released in the morning.”
“What were y’all doing out in the mountains anyway?”
Something about the way he asked … “Just looking around. Seemed a shame to hear so much about the Superstitions and be so close and not even get closer to see them. It is beautiful out here.” Not that she didn’t trust him, but … well, she didn’t trust anybody at the moment. Except for Nickolai.
“It is that. We don’t get this much outdoorsy stuff back home, do we?” He smiled.
“That’s true.”
“Why don’t I sit out here and wait for the police with you? I’d feel mighty uncomfortable leaving you all alone right now.”
It was nice to have someone care. “I think I’d like that.” She joined him outside, sitting in the plastic chair outside her door.
He pulled the chair from beside Stan’s door and sat across from her.
Remembering from earlier … “While we’re waiting, tell me about Stan.”
Phillip glanced at Stan’s motel room door then back to her. “What do you want to know?”
“You’ve known him a long time, right?”
Phillip nodded. “Many years.”
“Give me your impression of him. As a person. As a vice president for Winslet Industries. As a friend to Mrs. Winslet.”
He paused, staring at the ground. “Well now, let’s see. He’s done a fine job as vice president. As a member of the board, I have no complaints whatsoever with his quality of work. As far as his work ethics go … well, he’s a good vice president, I’ll just say that.”
Ah, so she hadn’t misheard. “What about as a friend to Mrs. Winslet? She must trust him a lot to not only keep him as an employee, but bring him into her confidence for Nickolai’s and my investigation.”
He clenched his jaw, the muscles tightening. “I suppose she knows she can trust him based on past experiences.”
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